Young Love and New Beginnings The next year brought more challenges than I could have ever imagined. I was living with my parents, navigating the rollercoaster of pregnancy, while my husband was off at basic training. Communication was nearly nonexistent—no phone calls, and only the occasional letter. Every day felt like an eternity, waiting for updates, longing to hear his voice. When he finally completed basic training and started school in California, things didn’t get much easier. Desperate to stay connected, we spent every penny we had on phone bills and plane tickets, even though we could barely afford it. Back then, unlimited long-distance calls were unheard of, and every conversation felt like a luxury. After school, he was assigned to Naval Hospital Orlando, but before we could even think about the move, I went into labor. It was a long, grueling process, but eventually, I held our beautiful baby girl in my arms—8 pounds, 6 ounces of pure love.
He left for Orlando soon after to find us a place to live, and once he called, we packed up and made the long trip south. For a young girl who had never been away from home, Florida felt like another world. The heat was suffocating, and the humidity was relentless. My daddy let us borrow his old truck, which had no air conditioning, so our outings were reserved for evenings when the temperature eased just enough to breathe. The bugs were unlike anything I’d ever seen—giant “roaches” as I called them, though down south, they called them Palmetto bugs. I’d walk into a room, flip on the light, and watch them scatter. It made me long for the cool mountain air of West Virginia and the comfort of home. But life had other plans.
One evening, I got a call that would change everything. War was breaking out in the Middle East, and he was put on 24-hour alert. Just like that, he was gone again, this time deployed on the USNS Comfort. My mom and dad drove to Orlando to help me pack, taking me and our baby girl to Universal Studios as a small distraction before heading back to West Virginia. If there’s one piece of advice I can offer any military spouse, it’s this: never watch the news during a war. I spent months glued to the TV, sick with worry, convinced I’d end up a widowed mother raising our daughter alone. But then, one day, the call came—he was coming home. He flew into Bethesda, Maryland, and his sister and I drove through the night to meet him. The moment I saw him, all the fear and anxiety melted away. We embraced, and for the first time in months, I felt whole again. That night, we watched my NBC interview together, laughing at how I sounded like a “young hillbilly” stepping into the big world. It was a moment of levity after months of uncertainty, and I’ll never forget it.
Becoming a Military Wife We weren’t in Orlando for long before my husband received new orders, this time to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina. The movers came, packed up our belongings, and just like that, we were off again. I didn’t know it at the time, but this move would be the turning point in my life—where I truly began to find my independence. North Carolina was different, but it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as Florida. I found myself surrounded by other young military spouses, each navigating the same unpredictable lifestyle. At first, I kept to myself, unsure of how to adjust. But soon, I realized I couldn’t sit alone, waiting for life to happen. I forced myself to step out of my comfort zone, introducing myself to neighbors and building friendships. These women became my lifeline, my family away from family. While my husband went through rigorous training—scout sniper school, airborne school, and countless other programs—I learned how to manage life on my own.
I took pride in making our house a home, even when he was away for weeks or months at a time. I tackled everything from budgeting to fixing things around the house. On one of his deployments, I even decided to go on a diet and completely transform myself. By the time he came home, I’d lost a significant amount of weight and surprised him with a brand-new truck. I was so proud of myself for handling it all, even though I’ll never forget how he almost walked right by me, barely recognizing me! Life was a delicate balance between deployments, field time, raising our daughter, and finding moments to simply enjoy being together. Each goodbye was hard, but each reunion made it all worth it. I learned to savor the small moments, whether it was a quiet family dinner or a weekend trip to the beach. As much as I thrived in my role as a military wife and mom, the deployments were never easy. When another deployment came, I packed up our belongings again and moved back home to West Virginia to stay with my parents. It was a bittersweet decision—I hated leaving behind the life we were building, but there was comfort in being surrounded by family. Once his deployment ended, we received orders to a small base in southern West Virginia: NSGA Sugar Grove. It was a quiet, isolated place, nestled in the mountains, but it turned out to be one of the best assignments we’d ever had. The community was tight-knit, and I formed friendships that still hold strong to this day. My friend Cissy and I even started a Girl Scout troop for our daughters. Life felt stable, almost normal, for the first time in a long while. It was during this time that I started thinking about expanding our family. The itch to have another baby grew stronger, and it wasn’t long before I found out I was pregnant again.
Growing Our Family Life at Sugar Grove was peaceful, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. With our daughter now in kindergarten and the quiet of the mountains surrounding me, I started longing for another baby. It didn’t take long before we got the news: I was pregnant again. This pregnancy was different from the first. There were minor complications that kept me on edge, but I was determined to stay positive. The excitement of growing our family outweighed any worries I had. The biggest surprise came during the pregnancy—I was convinced I was having a boy. We had a name picked out and everything, and I’d started imagining life with a little brother for our daughter. When the time came, we faced another challenge. We lived over the mountain, and the nearest hospital was an hour away. To make things easier, my doctor decided to induce labor, but our baby had other plans. After hours of waiting and no progress, I was sent home. That Friday, my dad took one look at me and said with a smirk, “You’re wasting your time. That baby isn’t coming until my birthday.” I laughed it off, thinking he was crazy—but he was right. On May 25th, his birthday, I went into labor. As the contractions picked up, my husband turned to me and said, “If this baby is born today, we’re naming her after your dad.” I thought he was joking, but by that afternoon, I was holding another beautiful baby girl in my arms. She had my daddy’s name, and in that moment, everything felt perfect. Adjusting to life with two kids was a whirlwind, but I found joy in the chaos. Our oldest daughter took to her new role as a big sister with pride, and our little family felt complete. Sugar Grove, with its quiet simplicity, became the backdrop for some of our happiest memories. This chapter of our lives taught me the beauty of embracing the unexpected. I’d gone into the hospital ready to welcome a son, but I left with another precious daughter—and a connection to my dad that would last a lifetime.
To Be Continued…
One Response
It was a beautiful life that we will never forget. Seeing you both growing as the years went by. Adding to your family with children and animals. Memories that will live on forever. Just sad to see Scott thriving in his last few years, only to be taken from us. Leaving a hole in our hearts that will never heal. Gone but never forgotten.