Three years ago.

Three years ago, I called my mom to tell her I was pregnant.  I was planning to do it in a cuter, more sentimental way, but I needed the answer to a question, and it was late at night, so I called.  "I keep fainting and I can't get up from the bathroom floor.  Is this normal?"

I definitely didn't want to be the high-maintenance pregnant woman.  If this was morning sickness, I could handle it.

Mom said, "call 911."

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Three years ago I was in the ER, and while the doctor was still walking toward me he identified the cause of my discomfort, "hemmorhage."

It seemed like immediately there was a bag of blood above me, and then I was shaking because of the blood going in me so fast, and then they gave me morphine and I felt much better.

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Three years ago tomorrow, I woke up with several incisions on my belly, one of them eight inches across.  The doctor came in and ordered two more units of blood.  That makes six altogether.  They told me that was about half my blood supply.

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So much has happened since that day.  A second pregnancy and loss, a new job for Ryan, moving to Alaska, a new job for me, and now finally... a third pregnancy.  And going strong at 17 weeks.  Our blessings are abundant.

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Here in Kodiak we don't have a blood donation center.  Once a year the blood truck comes to town on the ferry and we have a chance to donate.  Two years ago I donated.  Since then I have had two more opportunities to give, but I wasn't able to because I was preparing for fertility treatments at the time.  And now... I need to hoard all my blood supply for this precious little baby I'm growing.

I'm thankful today to be alive, and to be blessed with the ability to carry this pregnancy.  I wish that I were able to donate blood today, but I hope some of you would be able to go in my place.  Please, if you have a spare hour this week, go save a life and donate blood.