Back in October 2011 I had just started seriously dating some guy. To be honest, it was the first time I'd 'seriously' dated someone... ever.... I blame that on my ridiculously small high school and lack of normal social skills. But this guy had somehow decided that I was worthy of his charismatic awesomeness. I mean, he was a popular kid. It only took him a few weeks after he had moved into my apartment complex and he already had probably four times the amount of friends I had - not that I cared at the time. I spent most of my days watching Friends reruns and eating Nutella by the spoonful and I promise, I was quite content. Then all of the sudden he was this huge part of my life. We spent every single day together - and when he had to go back to school we spent every night on the phone and I missed him. I missed him like crazy. He was constantly on my mind. Exactly 2 years ago I made a weekend trip up to see him and we watched general conference by ourselves on his couch. He made us pancakes and was surprisingly a diligent note taker. We had only been dating a few months. It was then that we had our first conversation about our future together. I remember my face felt so hot when the word "marriage" was brought up and I was so embarrassed to even be thinking of that. But we talked about it. It was what we both wanted, and as far as we knew we wanted it with each other.

It's surreal to think that it was only two years ago that we took these pictures - just starting to date, nervous, self-conscious, wearing matching bracelets that we had just won at nickelcade... Sometimes I really miss the excitement of our budding relationship.

But then I look at this dude, who is right now blowing of some steam playing Battlefield while I sit on the bed with my laptop resting on my gigantic uterus pinning yet another load of stylish baby clothing. Every twenty minutes or so he'll turn and grab my foot, ask if I'm doing okay, smile, and then declare in a ridiculous voice that he loves me. Last night he dropped everything and spent over two hours patiently helping my sobbing pregnantness when I was so hopelessly frustrated with my online class I could have puked. He is not one to carefully read instructions, but does so almost completely willingly while I sit on the floor and watch him labor away putting together an ikea crib for our unborn baby boy. Lately he's been spending countless hours planning out a budget that will keep his family afloat for the next year. When I fart loudly, he publicly takes the blame. He knows that when I ask for a drink from the gas station it is always a 44 oz diet coke full to the brim with ice, and sometimes a snickers bar. If I enter our room and he's watching Firefly he will immediately switch it off and turn it to something else because he knows just how very much I detest that show. Every day he tells me I'm beautiful, kisses my stretched out belly, then whispers some obnoxiously dirty secret to his baby just loud enough so I can hear, laugh, and smack him.

These photos are quite telling. I love looking at them, because I see two things: First, the shy beginnings of our relationship (and the ridiculously good looking stud I fell in love with). Second,  I feel like they are so descriptive of what we have in our relationship now. It's just so comfortable. Within a few weeks we'll have added a third member to our tiny family and to be honest I'm terrified. Scared of the responsibility, definitely, but more so of how it will affect our relationship.  Ideally it will do wonders and we'll be more in love than ever, but I am wary of how difficult it might be. So now I'm doing all I can to just soak up the awesomeness that we have right now. Andy man is amazing. And if you couldn't tell by this long sappy post, I love him a lot.

-btw thanks Emma for letting me steal these pictures off your facebook page. Have I told you lately that you are an amazing photographer? Gracias.

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