Running With The Sas {Our First Half}

Ladies and Gents...We Did It!

In May, Abby {or 'The Sas' as she is affectionately called} and I ran our first 5k! 

We enjoyed running together so much that we decided to dream bigger and began training for a half marathon. Neither of us fancy ourselves to be runners nor did we even think in our wildest dreams that we could run for two solid hours, but we did!

 We didn't follow a set training schedule nor did we set out to obtain any records, we just wanted to prove to ourselves that we could run a Half Marathon. 

We had pretty perfect running weather and the best fan club we could have asked for. 

They were loud and encouraging and it made me smile to see them.

{Abby really did enjoy the run, not so much this particular incline.}

And with us always, my beloved daughter. 

She has made me stronger than I ever knew I could be.

I am pretty darn proud of us. 

I could not have asked for a better sister/roomie/running buddy! 

She keeps me grounded yet motivated and I adore her. 

Off to train for a marathon {just kidding Sas}. 

I am just giddy that we ran 13.1 miles...check that off the Year29 Bucket List!

Thank You for Sharing...

When I first learned of his affair, I was not sure how or even if I would openly share. 

There was a fine line between over sharing and casting stones while balancing being authentic and protecting the innocence of my deceased child. 

It took me months...and several drafts mind you...to put my shock factor feelings aside and turn my true feelings into cohesive thoughts. And for the record, he read and we discussed the post before I published because I wanted to be open with him before I put it out there for the interworlds to know. 

I shared to free myself from hiding, to lay it all out, and to be downright real.

What I never considered was how my story would impact others.

I didn't start my blog for any other motive then to just write about me. 
This is my journal where I write out life as I live it.

In the past eight months after sharing my story, so many have reached out to me to share that they too battled infidelity. There is refuge in knowing that on some level, someone understands. Some remained together while others are left with a crumbled marriage and a divorce decree. Some are years removed, while others are knee deep in the midst. Some were newly married while others had been together a lifetime. Some were pregnant (no, I am not alone!), some have young kids at home, and some have kids that have their own kids. With each story, my heart breaks.

I catch myself gasping, "What is wrong with people?"

And then wanting to shout, "You vowed to FORSAKE all others not FORNICATE with others."
 I guess I can see how you could confuse those two words because they both start with f...#UmmNotAtAll.
Sorry, was that too far? Please accept my apologies if I crossed the line. Forgiveness is a work in progress.

It makes my heart ache to look into the eyes of those who just learned of the affair and feel their fresh pain. To see them battle self confidence, and raw anger, a broken heart, and be left yearning for the life they thought they knew. 

 What a broken world we live in. 

I, in no way claim to be an expert. I don't have it all figured out nor do I always have good days. 
But, opening up has stirred up conversations that I think need to be had. Authentic and real conversations about life.

So, to those who have reached out to me to share your own battle, I just want to say thank you. 
Thank you for being brave and honest about how hard life can be.

I feel your pain.

I see the emptiness in your eyes.

And though our stories may not be identical, I sense your hurt.

But more so, Jesus knows your pain, your emptiness, and your hurt.

In the face of my healing, I continue to cling to the hope promised in Jeremiah 29:11.

I am certain that God has a plan bigger than I can comprehend. And though it doesn't always feel like you will surface or ever utter the words 'it is well,' I believe in the promise of a future...for me...and for you.

So friends, keep your heads up. 

Surround yourself with those who support you in the muck.

And cling to faith in a Creator that is capable of redemption grander than we can fathom.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. 

And, I am not alone.

 

I stopped counting the number of momma's that I know that have lost babies when all my fingers were full. That is a lot of mommas just in my life who have felt the pain of loss whether that be a miscarriage, still birth, or infant death. Knowing that I am not alone, I turned to my fellow grieving friends and asked them to share their deepest struggles and what they desire for others to know. 

Our stories are different...expected loss opposed to unexpected loss or stillbirth in comparison to infant death, just to name a few...but this day is to recognize each baby who is longed for. Forever their absence will be felt.

----- 

"The obvious answer to the question of what has been the most difficult is the moment we were told that our beautiful daughter would not be with us for long.  No matter how long she did stay, it would never be as long as we wanted.  But we found that was just the start of a different part of our lives, the end of “Before-Maisy” time.  So within our new journey, the hardest choice for my husband and I was how to balance the desire to tell others (family, friends, etc.) about Maisy’s progress without getting the extreme reaction.  We chose to carry her and were blessed to have almost 9 months with her safely cocooned in our love.  We wanted to celebrate her milestones even if they were always shared with an asterisk, *yes we know she is still very sick but today was a good day in perspective of all the possibilities*.  We often didn’t get that chance.  If we said she sure was moving a lot or she was super cute in her ultrasound pictures people would respond with either the “she’s still sick right?” or they would change the subject.  We talked about her every day in our little family and hardly at all outside of that, our little way of protecting her from people’s thoughts or comments.  It evolved into not letting others inside our small circle and not having enough support when we really needed some extra strength shared by those around us.  I would tell my best friend how much I appreciated her asking the “normal” questions about the pregnancy and Maisy, not because she wasn’t aware of what the bigger picture was, but because she had so much faith in things bigger than any of us here on earth that she just assumed none of us really knows what will happen the next day and therefore we can simply enjoy the moment we’re in, we can live just that moment.  Our other children were so innocent in their understanding and their acceptance, we truly envied this.  They would pray with us every day that we would be blessed with meeting our little girl and yet they accepted that this might not happen.  Sharing each milestone with them was nothing but joy because there was no asterisk for them, it was just what their little sister was doing that day. 

 

Looking back now this is also the one thing that still greatly bothers me, not sharing more of her earthly journey while I carried her.  We all want to shout from the highest point about our children and our love for them.  Choosing to be quiet then has lead me to be louder now.  I bring her or her name or anything about her up whenever I have the chance.  I make sure to always celebrate her now, even though I didn’t always know how to do it then."

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One of the most dearest people whom I have met through Alexandra's House, like me grieves a daughter but her journey is so very different than mine. Her daughter, Mia, was healthy yet stillborn as a result of a full term cord injury.

"Acceptance that it was real was the hardest facet for me. One minute I had a perfectly healthy baby and the next she was dead. When I got to the hospital, they took me off to a quiet part of the maternity ward. I wanted to be with other momma's. In hindsight, I'm glad I wasn't. I was upset they didn't hook me up to heart rate monitors. I mean, what if they were wrong. What if the sonogram was wrong. Even when holding my baby who wasn't breathing and didn't have a heart beat, I thought this just couldn't be. She was FINE yesterday. How did this happen?"

"What I want others to know is that just because I have another baby, doesn't mean I have moved on or forgotten Mia. I have three daughters even though you only see two. She will always be a part of me and it will always be hard to watch the baby grow up as I will forever think I never got to see this with Mia."

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"One of the most difficult aspects of being pregnant with a son who's life was expected to be limited was finding the balance between grief and hope while Jack was still with me. But proving more difficult than that was watching my baby die in my arms. He was born alive and he died. My child whom I had just given life to, died in my arms. And when the time came, we had physically gave my baby over to someone else never to see him. Never in this lifetime will I hold him, touch him, or see him again."

"In the days following death, the pain changes as it morphs into grief. Questioning how the reality of having a deceased child will effect my life forever and trying to come to terms with the new person I have become coupled with the doubts about the decisions made seeping thru. In the face of it all, trying to remain brave and strong when I am not, yet sensing others discomfort when the walls crumble and my true feels surface. There is the struggle to embrace healthy babies, baby shower invitations, and everyday conversations centered around the reality that others with healthy children face...lack of sleep, a fussiness, or the cost of child care. What I would have given to be fretting over 3am feeds, a stretched budget, or having to rock a inconsolable child. Resentment built when it was expected for me to 'get better' and my faith wavered as I tried to grasp God's plan through it all. One minute, I felt ok and the next I was anything but. Sometimes I put on a front just to try to convince myself that I was making it but my heart was never fooled. Despite how I appeared, I was broken, I was empty, and I am anything but whole."

"What I want, is for people to never pause in mentioning him.  I want to talk about him just as I talk about my other children. I want him to be remembered."

-----

For me, the most difficult aspect of my pregnancy,  were the 11 weeks I carried her knowing her prognosis. If I could have hid from the world, I would. In the comfort of my cocoon, I relished my pregnant body but with the obvious came questioning from strangers. Good willed at heart, the innocent questions posed toward a pregnant woman stung because my heart didn't know the excitement of an expected life with a healthy child. Coupled with the difficulty of just being pregnant were the what seemed like never ending decisions that had to be made.  Burial or cremation, whether to wear the heart rate monitor during delivery, the funeral home that would collect her body, the songs to be sung at the memory service, and the selection of the only outfit ever to be worn. How could I decide when I didn't even know what I wanted for myself? What I wanted was to be preparing for my daughter's life not to be planning for her death.

The day of her birth was one of the most incredible yet one of the most unbearable days of my existence. She was born alive and laid upon my chest just like in the movies. She made me a momma and in the blink of an eye, I was handing over her lifeless yet perfectly swaddled body. A moment that will forever be etched into my memory. Was I ready was the question posed. Was I ready for them to take her body? How could I have been. I felt it in my heart as she was carried out the room, a part of my heart left in that moment and it will never be remade whole.

What I want others to know is that it is okay to talk about her and to ask questions. Bringing her up isn't going to make me sad, I already am. Bringing her up acknowledges her existent. I carried her, I birthed her, I held her in my arms, and forever I will mourn her. I just want her to be remember and her life celebrated.

---

"If you know someone who has lost a child or lost anybody who's important to them, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died, they didn't forget they died. You're not reminding them. What you're reminding them of is that you remember that they lived, and that's a great, great gift." - Elizabeth Edwards

 

Words of Affirmation

I remember sitting at a restaurant with my best friend back in March. And, can we pause for a moment and address how simply amazing my bestie is. If there was an award to be given out for the most faithful and dedicated friend, she would hands down take the cake (literally and figuratively). She accepts me regardless of my mood, is on speed dial for vent sessions, has a couch that has a collection of my tears, and a deep love for my Addy despite never being able to meet her. My bestie, she loves well.

Okay, back to our dinner date. I was sharing with her the radical idea that I had conjured. I explained that I had figured out what it was going to take for me to heal from the devastating end to my marriage. I can remember thinking it was going to be the solution, the answer, the way to end the hurt that I had been harboring. 

I was going to ask him to write a letter to me.

I learned a long time ago that my love language is words of affirmation. I save every card that I have been given, file the most touching emails, and screen shot messages that encourage me. So, it made perfect sense to me to ask him to write a letter validating me. I wanted a piece of paper that proved that despite his decision to have an affair that I was a good wife, that I was pretty, that I made him happy, that I was worthy. I thought to myself that this said letter, the very words affirming my role, would hang in my home for others to see and be worn as a coat of armor.  I would carry it around and when I began to doubt myself or when I felt I was being judged because I was 'lacking something that resulted in him choosing to have an affair,' I would be able hold up his words for all the world to read. This letter would allow me to say,  "Yes, my husband had an affair. But look, I was a really good wife." or "Yes, my marriage ended in divorce. But see, these are the things I did well."

As I was explaining this brilliant idea to my best friend, I felt so relieved as I just knew that his validating words would heal me. He broke me and I needed him to fix me.

And so, I called him. 

I reminded him of my love language and shared exactly what I needed him to do. 

I gave bullet points of topics that it would be helpful for him to touch on and that he could end by explaining what he misses the most from the life we spent 12 years building.

Yes, I did that.  I really did. 

And, he agreed.

Four days later , I was reflecting on the weekend that I had just had at Hope Spoken and replaying my conversation. I was anxiously anticipating his healing letter. As I got out of the shower, I had a moment of ultimate clarity so real that it stopped me in my tracts. I looked around and it was just me. 

In a split second, loud and clear I heard the words, "But Aly, to me you are worthy and to me you are enough." They flooded my head and penetrated my soul. Standing alone in a little hotel bathroom, I looked around expecting to see someone uttering the words to me. They were so concise, so convicting, and so liberating.  A defining moment of healing for me. 

This letter that I thought would heal me, would simply be words. 

Empty, broken, weightless words. Regardless of how eloquent, they would be from him and he doesn't define or validate who I am. His actions were independent of my role as his wife and he isn't the foundation of my worth. His words could not heal me, they could not free me, nor could they ever liberate my spirit.

I don't need his letter to validate who I am. 

To the King of Kings, I am worthy and I am enough.
Worthy & Enough. Praise Jesus that he can make all things new.  

------

And for the record, I hesitated to share. But, I was dinning with yet another friend recently (I recognize I am abundantly blessed by the people in my life) and sharing with her how I struggle with meeting new people. It might seem odd given that I share pretty openly on this little blog or on my IG account. But to me, this is safe because if you don't want to read, you would unfollow me or close the window and I would never know. But in person, that isn't the case. Opening up to strangers is scary because it leaves me vulnerable to how they will respond to my story. My dear friend explained to me that perhaps sharing in person or sharing of the most intimate moments of healing would be just what someone else needed to hear. That maybe, just maybe, God would use my broken and redeemed story to encourage and draw others to Him. It seems crazy to me. I am just being me and sharing my authentically messy self but if my words could possibly help someone else, I will share. You too are worthy and you too are enough. Did you hear that? You are worthy and you are enough.

And also for the record...that letter, it never came.

Shawn's Day That Came

Growing up with six siblings wasn't always peaches and cream.

 

I can distinctly remember sobbing when I found out my mom was pregnant with my youngest sister. I was eight and I was very clear that "we already had enough kids in this family."

I always shared a bedroom, a bathroom, a birthday month, and my super hip clothes (denim overalls are not surprisingly making a comeback!). Although, being the eldest girl meant the hand-me-downs were from me and not to me! 

Contrary to what you might expect, it was never cool in middle school to be picked up in a conversion van and every time I had a friend over you could count on a sibling to two who insisted on being the center of attention. There were constant fights over the hot water, the front seat, the last of the milk, and the old school desktop computer so we could instant message with friends. 

I didn't appreciate what it meant to grow up in a big family as a child.

 But, the older we get, the closer my siblings and I have become. 

Sure we still bicker, and over share our unsolicited opinions, and poke fun a little too deep at times. But, we defend and protect. Celebrate and mourn. And we we share a fierce love and loyalty. 

So, when our eldest brother wed, #teameagle was in fully force to ensure their vision....the one where every detail was maliciously planned...was brought to fruition. There was pie baking, veggie chopping, flower snipping, and moss gluing. There was U-Haul driving, tent propping, ribbon tying, light stringing, and chandelier hanging. There was cake icing, centerpiece spritzing, card alphabetizing, and groom reassuring. 

But, that is when I am most proud to have so many siblings. 
We rally at the needs of another, I can attest as the repeated recipient.

And, that big brother of mine, he made certain that my beloved daughter was remembered on their day. She was the honorary flower girl.

 Their day was one of my most favorite family events to date. 
The ceremony, the speeches, the 'I won't be able to feel my feet the next day' nonstop dancing, and the celebration of their love. 

All because this day came for them.
 Welcome to the family. 

Being Aunt Aly

When divorce becomes your reality, you think about the splitting of the obvious...the house, the bills, the finances, the "stuff." The task of dissecting it all was deeply painful but I think what has proven harder is the splitting of relationships. 

There was an unspoken understanding of 'these being my people,' of you taking these friends, and of each of us retaining our families. That is hard. I don't care so much about the stuff (unless you are talking about Addy's things and in that case, MommaBear won't part). But, it was hard for me to accept that those whom have become my family wouldn't maintain their role in my life.

Those very people that stood in the room with us on the day my beloved was born, those whom held her, and had the opportunity to take in her presence...those people were no longer our people but mine or his. 

Blessed am I because what I have found is that those very people love and care about me just the same as before that little divorce decree changed their title.

This was so abundantly clear to me one Sunday when I had the opportunity to spend the day with his niece and nephews...the kids whom I met the day they were each born, whom I have watched grow up, have celebrated their milestones, and love deeply. As we jumped in and out of the pool, hearing "Aunt Aly look" or "Aunt Aly race me" or "Aunt Aly catch" was such an incredible blessing. To them, I am still Aunt Aly. And, that role is not something I take for granted.

So in being a good aunt,  I treated them to ice cream after our swim with only one rule...the bowl was the limit. I let them each fill it as full as they could with ice cream, candy, and every topping their little taste buds fancied. And then I watched as they joyfully indulged. It only felt appropriate to fill them full as they were unknowingly filling me.


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Also, I want to share the sermon from Sunday. 
It was Matthew 5:4. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

As I sat in the pew, I cried, I nodded in agreement, and I felt like I needed to shout "amen." So, I wanted to share. Friends, life is hard. Maybe you haven't lost a child or a marriage, but we all mourn something. A parent, our health, a dream, a job. Whatever it is for you, Jesus wants to meet you in the middle of your grief. Listen and be encouraged. I was.

Veggetti and Meatballs

If you asked Abby, I think she would tell you that her favorite Whole30 meal was meatloaf and cauliflower "mashed potatoes." But for me, hands down it was veggetti and meatballs.

The Veggetti was a purchase in the midst of our Whole30 journey and it was well worth the $14.99 price tag! Run and get it because it can turn veggies into pasta or lo-mein noodles!

Simply twisted and like magic, the zucchini and carrots were noodles!

 To cook the veggetti, just toss them into boiling water for three minutes and then drain.

As for the meatballs, I could not find a Whole30 recipe that I totally jived with (mainly because a lot of them had mushrooms, bison, or pork which I wasn't so sure about) so I combined and came up with my own.

Ingredients:

1lb Beef (I use the leanest ground available)

1 Handful of Fresh Spinach (Shredded)

1 Small Sweet Potato (Peeled and Grated)

1/2 Tbsp Dried Parsley

1/2 tsp of Paprika

1 Egg

Salt and Pepper

Combine and roll into golf ball sized balls.

 To save time on the weekdays, I made the meatballs on Sunday and left them rolled in the fridge until I was ready to bake them. 

Coat the pan with coconut oil, spread the meatballs, and then cover with foil.

Bake at 375 degrees for 40 minutes.

Toss them over the cooked veggetti and top with sauce (if you are eating Paleo or Whole30, I highly recommend Costco's Kirkland brand of Marinara).

I told you the Whole30 meals were delicious! 

You can do it!

Day31 of The Whole30

So what did we eat on Day31 following the Whole30?

We indulged! Self-serve frozen yogurt with all the toppings for the win!

It was as if it was meant to be when a little email landed in my inbox on the morning of Day31. We were already planning (one of us may have taken the planning part very serious!) to treat ourselves but getting such an email made it feel all the more needed.

And it was good. Like really good.

And, my colon handled it like a champ {insert fist pump}.

Sorry if that is TMI but I say the word 'poop' or some variation at least 100 times a day for a living. 

But since we actually really enjoyed the Whole30, we plan to stick with the meal planning, prepping, and eating of real foods when we are at home. We stuck to every rule over the 30 days but now we will be a little more lacked if we are out and about (as in my purse won't double as a lunch box).

Whole30

It was about a year ago that I began to get serious about getting healthy. I had been a grieving momma for 18 weeks and yet still had no idea that a little message would pull the rug out from under my feet. Nonetheless, last July I started to get serious about refueling my weary body because the last thing I needed was to near the end of Year28 and look in the mirror only to realize that I didn't help myself. Certainly, I could go for mashed potatoes and 'so good you can eat it with a spoon gravy' from Stroud's, or Cinnamon Roll French Toast from Kate's (maybe even with a side of biscuits and gravy), or the biggest bowl of chip and salsa from Margaritas, or some de-light-ful BBQ from OK Joe's...oh BBQ, how I love thee. But, I knew that eating my feelings would only be a temporary fix and I would be left still doubting me. 

You see, after I learned of the affair, my self esteem was depleted. If only I was _____. Fill in a word and chances are, I thought it...funnier, smarter, prettier, skinner, more free spirited, or more outgoing. With an empty tank on my self esteem and a world that felt completely chaotic, how I cared for my body felt like the only thing I could control (well that and my eyebrows so they were well tended to). So, I got serious. You can read more about the start of my journey here.

Over the course of the last year, with the help of the little goldmine that is Pinterest, Instagram, and the new magical library card I acquired (sidenote: when I redid my bedroom, I opted to ditch the TV and it was the best decision as I have come to enjoy reading!), I was set. I searched for recipes and books about clean eating and landed upon the Paleo approach. It is a life style geared toward eating real foods. I spent a year doing my approach to Paleo and since clearly cavemen drank diet coke and ate the occasional Mexican dinner, I did too. When I was at home and cooking for myself, I ate Paleo. When I was eating out, I didn't fret about the indulgences. 

Coupled with my diet change, I got back into boxing. An hour of wailing on a bag honestly became a form of anger therapy for me. There may or may not have been a few times when I was jabbing with all might as tears streamed down my face. The instructors looked at me unsure how to respond and then just let me do my thing. Therapeutic I tell ya. 

Shortly after moving in, Abby encouraged me to sign up for a 5K with her. I am in no way a runner but slowly we worked our way up to three miles and completed our first race in May. What I discovered was running became tranquility for me and somewhat spiritual too. No worries, I have not lost all my marbles. I assure you, my former self would have rolled her eyes at my current self but running has become a time for me to clear my head, to focus, and to listen. Trust me, I don't rise with the sun because I love to exercise, I have just really come to appreciate the serenity that the open run has provided. 

This summer I picked up a copy of It Starts With Food and after reading, Abby was gung-ho to start the Whole30. So while she was on a mission trip in Guatemala, I cleaned out the pantry, fridge, and freezer of all non-compliant foods. I made a calendar and a binder of meal ideas. And then, I restocked with lots of fresh veggies, fruits, and meats. And for 30 days, there was no cheating! Although I will confess...our budget didn't allow for strictly grass fed, free range, or completely organic foods, we just made the best choices based off our budget.

And we did it! 30 days of nothing by clean, nutrient rich, real foods! 

That is an entire 30 days without Diet Coke for me! At first it felt like a crime against humanity to pass a QuikTrip, see the sign for 79 cent fountain drinks, and keep driving. But rest assured, I made it. 

Surprisingly, it was much easier than we anticipated. And honestly my biggest surprise was how many foods I actually like that I thought I didn't! Things like sweet potatoes, nectarines, salmon, blueberries, cashews, and watermelon. 

We made our weekly grocery store run on Sunday and then food prepped for the entire week. With the dinner calendar on hand, weeknight meals became relatively easy as everything had been prepped on Sunday. And we were really surprised by how many of the meals we absolutely loved!

I won't pretend to be a expert on anything Paleo or the Whole30, but here are some pictures of the foods we have been enjoying. And let me tell you, there were some really, really good meals! 

........

I did have to set my alarm to get up about 15 minutes earlier to prepare breakfast but it was worth it to me. Usually I made eggs (either scrambled or fried in coconut oil), a side of a veggie (either a pile of raw spinach, stir fried peppers & zucchini, or a grated sweet potato), and a Whole30 compliant chicken sausage (which I found at Costco).

 When I was craving pancakes, I found a recipe for a sweet-and-savory blueberry tortilla and it was delish!

I kept lunch pretty simple and typically stuck with leftovers or a salad of some sort. Sometimes it was a taco salad with spinach and guacamole and beef, peppers, and onion that I cooked on a prep day. Or a garden salad with Sunday prepped chicken, carrots, macadamia nuts, hard boiled eggs, and  homemade ranch (of which the base is Paleo mayo), or tuna salad (using the same mayo as the base). 

Snacking consisted of carrots or a fruit with handful of pistachios, almonds, cashew butter, or almond butter. My go-to snack was Monkey Salad (it was also good with strawberries, blueberries, or nectarines in place of the bananas). We treated ourselves to caramelized apples with dinner one night.  And then there were sweet potato...lots and lots of sweet potatoes. Microwaved, grated into hash browns, or baked into fries. I am a convert to lover of sweet potatoes.

 

Dinner was my jam though. Probably because I had someone to cook with who was equally as motivated and excited to try new recipes and eat yummy foods. 

We made zucchini lasagna. 

Actually the first time I made it, I made extra of the stuffing and froze it so this time I just had to thaw, slice fresh zucchini, layer it up, and bake!

There was ginger chicken on stir fried lo-mein noodles (made from zucchini and carrots), meatloaf (@whole30recipes on IG) and cauliflower "mashed potatoes," and garden fresh peppers stuffed with beef and veggies. 

Before you go doubting, I am a mashed potato loving girl and was pleasantly surprised by the cauliflower mash...I mean I thought I didn't like cauliflower. 

The key to the mash is coconut milk!

 

And one of my favorites, salmon cakes!

Or my other favorite, veggiti and meatballs! For the love of meatballs, they were delightful (and I couldn't find a recipe that I was totally on par with so I made one up and will share it soon). For now, behold the beauty. 

And for one of our last meals, we decided to go out with a bang.
Grilled steak with veggies and pineapple.

There was only one small causality in the Whole30...

Turns out my chopping skills were sub par and the stuffed peppers resulted in a trip to the urgent care. A couple of quick stitches and all was well.

......

Because I know you will ask, I lost 5 pounds and Abby lost 8.

I didn't do the Whole30 to lose weight, I wanted to be more mindful of the foods I was eating and the ways they affected my body. Obviously no one is going to complain about dropping a few lbs or of feeling less 'fluffy' but really what I feel like I gained was a better palate for foods that I didn't even know I would like and a challenge to take the time to better fuel me.