1. My Name Is Not Kristta

My name is not Kristta, and boys are a very important part of my life. Why? Well one, because I am a girl, and two, because I grew up in a house with not one, not two, not three, but seven guys! (If you include my father.) Being a Mormon family, many people were not surprised with the great number of children my parents had, but in reality, having seven kids was not my parents' original plan at all.

My dad didn't really have a preference with the gender or number of kids he had. (He has told me that even though he would have been terrified to have six girls instead of six boys, he knew that God would help him out if he really needed it.) My mother, though, was an entirely different story. She grew up with a sister that was only a year younger than her and they had so much fun that she knew she wanted that for the daughters she would undoubtably have.

So my parents started having kids and child after child after child all turned out to be boys. Although my mother loved each of her sons with her whole heart she couldn't help but wish for the little girls she so desperately wanted. She prayed and prayed and FINALLY... God answered her prayers. It was her sixth pregnancy and the doctors told my mom that there might be something wrongly with her pregnancy and that she would have to go take this test at a lab in a town three hours away to make sure everything was alright. It also just turned out that this test could very accurately determine the sex of your child. So she drove herself the three hours to the test and the three hours back. After a few weeks her doctor received her results from the lab and gave her a call. The first words he said were, "Are you sitting down?" She was so worried! Was there actually something wrong with her baby?! But no, the doctor just knew how excited she would be. "You're results are fine, but I just thought I'd tell you........ you're having a girl." My mother was overjoyed! She told me that she might actually have fallen if she hadn't been sitting down.

Just a few months later my mother gave birth to me. My parent's prayers had finally been answered. She, my father, and my brothers all decided to name me Kristta, but a few weeks after bringing me home, my mother just knew that the name didn't fit. Kristta was a beautiful name, but it just wasn't my name. So down on to the County Courthouse my parents went and they changed my name. So now my name is not Kristta, it is Kira. I used to hate the fact that my name is not Kristta. I used to get mad at my parents for changing it and I would demand that my friends call me Kristta instead of my legal name. Eventually I accepted it though, and I really don't mind any more. Now, I kind of like Kira.

However, after all this excitement, my mother still wanted that special relationship she had with her sister for me. So I did not remain the youngest child for long. Soon my mom was pregnant once more and once more, she was praying for a girl. (I often tease my little brother about this fact.) They soon found out that it would be a boy though, and they both knew their family was complete. They had seven beautiful children and even though she only had one daughter, my mother was absolutely in love with the family God had given her.