Christmas thoughts and feelings that I am finally putting into words

The last few months have been filled with moments when I and the people around me do not have any words to say.  I do not even think the word "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" would work here, and it's supposed to be ideal when you don't know what to say. 

I know that it has been several days since Christmas, and perhaps my post is a little late, but I have not known how to put into words all my thoughts and feelings.  I want to share, but sometimes there just aren't the right words to share.

I have seen lots of people on the bandwagon of "it's been a great year" videos on Facebook.  And I have even smiled as I have viewed a few of people's videos, but mostly I just feel sad.  Sometimes it seems really unfair that the world keeps turning when you are going through something really hard.  Life keeps moving, even when you want it to stop.  I don't expect everyone to be sad with me, I don't expect their lives to all experience upheaval just because mine has.  But I feel a little left out.  My year was great in ways, but very terrible in others. 

For the first time in my life, I have understood why some people hate the Christmas holiday season.  I do not hate it myself, but I think I can understand why it is hard for many people, because it's now really hard for me too.  I still love it, but I have taken measures to help myself love it.

Christmas is a time for family and loved ones.  And it's a time that reminds you of what you don't have in the way of family and loved ones as well.  I had a very difficult time as I watched my family members taking pictures of their babies near the Christmas tree, wishing my baby was there to be a part of it.  I felt left out.  I felt sad, I felt like it was unfair.  I think a lot of people experience that at Christmas time, as they see people gathering with those they love.

In some ways, I feel more crippled now than I ever have before.  Because it's supposed to be a time of cheer and giving and bright spirits, it makes me painfully aware of the sad that is a part of my life.  I carry pain around with me all the time.  I am often fighting with myself about whether to try and forget about it, to ignore it and never think about Gideon, or whether to think about him and really let all the feelings flow.  And I'll be honest with you, there are a lot of times that I fight away my grief, that I smile and try not to think about him, and it feels good to be distracted and having fun.  Often later, I feel a little guilty, like I have been betraying his memory.  I think there is a balance to be found; I have been able to go to holiday parties without crying, happy moments are a part of what life is about.   Questioning one's self is also a part of life, unfortunately.  I didn't have a meltdown when I saw my 4 nephews all together in front of the Christmas tree, but it's not because I didn't feel a jab of pain that my baby wasn't there.  I just decided not to think about it, not to feel.  I feel like not breaking down and crying in that moment was probably the better thing to do, and my ability to turn from the sadness is a gift, not a curse or a betrayal.  I suppose that many other people fight with themselves in similar ways through the holiday season, wishing to only be happy and bubbly, trying to bury all the sadness, and then feeling guilty for not taking time to remember their loved ones.  It's really hard, and I am sorry if you have to deal with this.

Of course, there is pressure to buy and give gifts.  We have been very blessed financially this year, when it could have been so much worse.  We were financially prepared for this emergency, we had a Health Savings Account which had enough to cover ALL of the medical expenses (and there were a lot).  Otherwise, this could have put us into a crisis right before the holiday season erupted.  This was not an aspect of Christmas that stressed me out, and I am grateful.  But many other people are not so blessed.  Lets face it, life throws curveballs at you, and sometimes they smack you in the face.  And finances are hard anyway, but at Christmas, it's even worse, and people are much more painfully aware of their ability (or lack thereof) to give gifts.  We had offers to be part of an "angel tree" program, which we turned down, feeling like we had enough.  Kind neighbors and strangers still ought of us and worried about us and donated gifts and treats to our family.  (THANKYOU!)  Many people have given VERY generously to our family since Gideon's death, and I have been overwhelmed and touched by the thought and love that has gone into those donations.  Our Christmas was great (gift wise) this year.   As you can see, we did not suffer from a shortage of awesome presents...

Our tree on Christmas Eve, after all the gifts were placed.  I got tired of wrapping, as evidenced by the gift in the lower left corner.

Gifts are a nice distraction from what is missing, even though there is still emptiness there.   On Christmas Eve, I still got asked by my children if I missed Gideon.   I am so grateful, though, that I didn't have to stress about whether my children would have gifts this Christmas.  I personally know people who were very stressed about the holiday season because financially they are in trouble.  It's yucky, and it's not fun to be reminded over and over about what you feel like you don't and can't have and can't give.  I think that's one reason it's a hard season for so many.

And oh the busy, busy, bustling of the holiday season.  One thing that always amazes me after I have left the hospital is how the world has kept turning despite what has been happening inside the hospital.  There are times that I have felt like it is so unfair for people to keep going about their usual business when I have been going through an ordeal.  (I think we maybe all have a little bit of that "I am the center of the universe" complex in us.)  Not that I expect the world to revolve around me, but that it seems like tragedy of this magnitude deserves a break.  Life should slow down, things should just stop.  You should get an exempt card from hard things for a while.  I think I'd have loved to just be home and read books with my kids and not have anywhere to be, or any shopping to do.  However, It doesn't work like that.  And around the holidays, things not only don't stop, they move at a frantic pace.  So much to do, and the time to do it keeps shrinking.  I would bet that many people don't like the holidays for that reason also.

With all the feeling sad and sorry and upset, the thing that I found helped the most was seeking earnestly to GIVE to other people.  This year, we did a 12 Days of Giving Christmas.   Rather than choosing to bless one family, we just set a goal each day to find ways to serve others.  I am not SO secure in our finances that I felt like I could give to everyone and everything with gobs of monetary generosity.  I'd have loved to have enough security that I felt comfortable giving away more money to people I knew were struggling.   However, I was able to send a few people money anonymously (they probably don't read my blog...).  I babysat several children for free.  Our family went caroling in an assisted living center.  We made treats and delivered them to several of our neighbors.  We gave the kids' teachers treats and I wrote each teacher a personal note thanking them for all they do for my children.  We made and delivered dinner to two families we know who have new babies.  We put a box of food together for a family who has been struggling financially.  I gave time to help others with musical things, donating time to play piano to accompany several musical numbers.  I don't say any of this to brag, that's not the point.  The point is that giving felt good.  I wanted to do things I knew I wouldn't have been able to do if I had a young baby myself.   I donated my time and talents more than I donated money or gifts.

I had a realization that helped me a lot through the holidays.  I wanted to give more, but we are wanting to have more children still.  And wanting to be prepared for that means not emptying out our bank accounts any more than they've already been depleted this year.  I felt like I should pass on generosity, but didn't feel like I could be as generous as I wanted to in monetary ways, without jeopardizing our financial security in the coming year.  However, ANYBODY can give their time and talents.  You don't have to be rich to give those kinds of gifts, and they still mean a lot.  And they meant a lot to me as the giver.  I needed to be a giver this holiday season, more than I needed to be a receiver.  I wish I had given more, and I hope to keep giving more.  It has lent more healing power to my heart than anything.  Seeing lonely people smile or cry or sing along as my family sang to them really made me feel happy.  I hope my children learned from the experience, because that means that besides giving to the people in the assisted living center, and the people we gave treats and dinners to, that I gave my children experience and lessons in kindness and generosity, and that you don't have to have tons of money to give things that matter.

I have thought a lot about Emma Smith, wife of the prophet Joseph Smith, who translated the Book of Mormon and was the first prophet of the Mormon church (whose full name is actually "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints", but got nicknamed Mormon after the book of Mormon).  She bore many children who died within hours after child birth.  Over and over she experienced tragedy.  I remember once thinking about all she was able to accomplish, and wondering if it was partly because she had more time and ability to dedicate her time to serving outside her family because her babies went to heaven.  And there may be some truth to that thought, and I have wondered if maybe that is partly why Gideon came now.  Are there things I am supposed to be doing now that I couldn't do with a baby?  I hope I am doing them.  I spent my 12 days of Christmas trying hard to find ways to serve people that I wouldn't have if I was tied up in nursing, changing diapers, and feeling tired.  I still wish I had my baby here, but working hard to serve others, to give back to others has made me feel so much better.

And of course, I thought about the real reason for Christmas, which is Christ.  Focusing on the REAL reason for the season does not cause pain, does not create a sense of frantic urgency at all I need to do right now.  It does not create stress, it doesn't come with feelings of frustration or sadness at what I am missing.  It only helps me feel loved and grateful for the best gift ever, and to have the desire to share that gift.

This has by far been the hardest holiday season I have experienced.  I have still loved it, but it has been much harder to enjoy.  I understand why it is so hard for so many people, and I am sorry for ever thinking of anyone who hated Christmas as a Grinch or a Scrooge.  I understand.  And I'm sorry for the pain that the holiday season brings up in your heart.  I hope you can find ways to give in ways that will heal your heart, whether during the holidays or not.

My year has been a good year, I have lots of great memories.  Making a pinata with my kids and my sister, family trips to Bear Lake and Bear World and Bryce Canyon, my brother's wedding, a temple dedication, campouts, fun holiday times, soccer games, the list goes on.  And sometimes those happy memories feel like they are from another lifetime, before everything changed.

I also have too many hard and sad memories.  I appreciate all who have been sharing in this journey of joy and pain with our family.  Thank you for being here with us and for us!  Happy New Year!

Hanukah and Miracles

I spent 2 years in Israel when I was 10 and 11, and I learned to love the country and customs of the Jewish people.  I first heard the term "Christmas Tree Jew" on the movie "What to Expect When You're Expecting", and I think if it's a real term, (it may not be at all...) then I might be a little bit of a "Menorah Christian."  I don't remember all of the holidays I celebrated from when I lived there, but I do remember Passover (Pesach), Purim, and Hanukah, and I have taught my children about them.  We have spent time talking about their significance to me, and I own a menorah which we have lit some years, (I am hoping to light it tomorrow, or possibly on the last day of Hanukah, but I may not light it all the other days of Hanukah) and I have some Hanukah decorations that I put up with my Christmas stuff.  I keep a few Hanukah books with my Christmas books.

I was thinking a lot about Hanukah today (first day began at sunset tonight), and two major thoughts went through my head.  1. I BELIEVE IN MIRACLES.  The condensed version of the history of Hanukah is that the Jewish temple and much of its oil had been defiled by the soldiers of Antiochus (I had to look up the ruler's name, I didn't remember that detail.)  As a people, the Jews have many special customs, ceremonies, and rituals, which have a very deep meaning.  Lots of preparation goes into their customs and rituals.  Not just any oil can be burned in the temple, it has to have been prepared.  So once the soldiers had been driven out of the temple, they found that almost all the oil was gone or defiled, and there was only enough to burn for one day, but it burned for 8 days, giving them enough time to prepare more oil to be burned in the temple.

Do I believe this story?  Wholeheartedly.  I am a Christian and a Mormon, but most Mormons have to believe in miracles to believe the history of our church.  Jesus himself was raised Jewish, and performed miracles, so most Christians believe in miracles, and should definitely respect Jewish customs, as Judaism is a parent to Christianity.  I absolutely believe that this miracle happened, that the oil lasted, and that it is a miracle worth celebrating.

The second major thought is: MANY TIMES, MIRACLES FOLLOW GREAT HARDSHIPS.
I can't really imagine what it would feel like (and I hope I never have to) to have soldiers from another nation come in and begin to seize control over things within my own country.  Not only governmental positions and places that are considered public, but also places that are treasured and sacred, to go in without restraint and destroy and steal and defile.  I am sure the people felt afraid and violated, doubt and frustration.  It is a miracle that they found oil at all and another miracle that it lasted for 8 days, and that it was able to give them hope and faith.  I am not sure I can imagine after all that devastation, the feelings of excitement and wonder at this oil lasting and lasting as they worked to purify and prepare new oil (which takes days.)

As I thought about this, I drew a parallel to my own life.  I've often drawn it to Jesus walking on water or feeding the 5,000 + with only a small amount of fish and bread (seems impossible, right?) but it absolutely applies to Hanukah as well.  This is the first year that I had these epiphanies, and I needed them.

Needless to say, there have been many moments filled with sadness lately.  However, when we are doing our best through trials and challenges, when we have faith and we go through our messy lives and come out lucky enough to find good, pure things, we should use those good things and trust that our Heavenly Father will make them more.  He will take what we can give and he will make it stretch and grow, even into the realms of the impossible.  He can't do that if we aren't willing to first search for it, and also if we aren't willing to put whatever we find to use, even if it doesn't seem like it will be enough.  And we have to keep working hard while the miracle is taking place.

This has been a part of my life for a very long time, but since August, I feel this SO OFTEN.  After the death of our baby, I just sometimes don't want to do anything.  There have been days that I just want to hide.  They are not all like that, I have plenty of good days where I can carry on as "normal" without extra effort.  Sometimes, though, I love being with my family, but it hurts.  I love seeing my friends, and I love serving others and doing good things, but sometimes I just want to not be around anyone.  It's easier, less questions, less memories, less noticing that Gideon is missing.  I know that being busy is good, and I know that doing good things makes me happy, so I take whatever good motivation I can find, which varies from day to day, and I put it out there for the Lord to make more.  And he turns my tiny offering into something that lasts and lasts, far beyond what should be possible. 

I feel like this is me every day.  I am that vessel of oil which keeps burning for 8 days, even though there is no possible way it could.  I search and find a small bit of strength, and I put it out there, and He magnifies it into a strength I never could have managed alone.  I find hope and joy in seeing this often in my life, and I celebrate that miracle. 

So to anyone who believes in God:  Happy Hanukah!  Jews & Christians alike can relate to miracles.  They are a real thing, I have lived it over and over! 

Mary, did you know?

I have been a big fan of Pentatonix before this year's Christmas album "That's Christmas to Me", but I absolutely adore their rendition of "Mary, Did You Know?"  If you haven't seen it yet, here ya go.
PTX official video, Mary, Did You Know

Every time I listen to it, I get goose bumps.  I do wonder how much Mary understood about the child she would have.  One of my FAVORITE scriptures in the entire New Testament is Luke 2:19 "And Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart."  If she didn't know, she took a lot of time thinking and feeling about these experiences, and about the words spoken to her by an angel. 

I am particularly touched by it this year, because I have thought a lot about what I would have done if I had known about Gideon.  What if I had known that he would pass away after a week?  What if I could have seen the pain that his death would cause?  As Scott and I discuss the future of our family, we realize that trying to have more children now carries with it a higher risk that they could have the same problem.  Will I choose to do this again, knowing what I know now?  The truthful answer is: I don't know.  I think it's "Yes", but there are moments when I feel like it's "No way."  This hurts, and I have a hard time thinking that I could choose willingly to feel this pain again.  My reverence and respect for Mary has increased leaps and bounds this year.



 Did Mary know that she would have to watch her son die?  She may have known he was God's son and would come to deliver us all, but did she understand the extent that he would deliver us?  Did she understand that he would have to die, that he would have to suffer so that we can give up our sins and not have to endure that same suffering? Did she know that because he would be resurrected, we now all can be?  Did she understand about the pain it would cause her to see people not understand, to crucify him because they couldn't see who he really was? 

Before we were told that Gideon could have a lethal condition, there were a few times that I had an inkling he wouldn't live long.  Perhaps it is just my worrying nature, but there were times I was reading scriptures or quotes of prophets and I was so moved, and I felt so sad for the loss of my child, even before we knew his problem was severe.  I had a small taste of the pain, and I dreaded it.  I hoped for some amazing way that he could live, that all would be well.  I tried my best to trust that no matter what happened, God would make it a good thing.

I think even Jesus himself hoped for some way that he wouldn't have to suffer, to die for us.  That is why he asked "Father, if it be possible, remove this cup from me."  He hoped he wouldn't have to feel that pain, to actually go through the suffering, the sacrifice, and the painful crucifixion.  I know simply with my own pain if I could wish it away, if there was a way I could not have to feel it, I'd love that.  It's hard to have any idea of the suffering you will experience and still go forward with it.  I wonder if Mary felt much the same way about her son.  "Please, if there's any other way, could he NOT have to do this?"  I am sure it was very heart breaking to her, and I can now sympathize with the heartache of losing a perfect son, though I will never pretend to understand Mary, because they were not even close to the same circumstances.

I have become more grateful for her sacrifice for being willing to do what needed to be done, to carry this child, to have to travel while hugely pregnant, to raise him and love him and help him to be the amazing person he was.  What a woman!  What a hero!  I want to be like her.  I want to be able to go forward in my life with faith, and do whatever God wants me to do, no matter how hard, no matter how much pain it might cause. 

I don't know how much she knew, but she had immense amounts of faith and trust, and perhaps that is what matters more.

He is the gift.  Heavenly Father is loving and merciful, He knew we'd do dumb stuff, and that we would need infinite help.  So he offered up His Son to make the difference.  I am sure it was painful to willingly give up your perfect son.  I prayed to Heavenly Father "If it's thy will that Gideon go home, then I will trust it", but I cried and felt like my heart wasn't going to be able to beat anymore as I said those words, they did not come easily.  If you haven't yet seen this video that puts Christmas in perspective, please watch it.  He Is the Gift video

I love that gift so much more now.  Because of him, I get second chances, we all get second chances.  When it is my time to be judged, I can be judged by someone who felt exactly what I have felt, and who will understand my heart and thoughts.  I get to be resurrected...we all do, including my Gideon.

I don't know the pain and challenges up ahead, but I am working to become like my hero, and to have faith and trust that no matter what pain I am called to bear, it will be for my good, and possibly for the good of others around me.  I don't know exactly how Gideon's death has blessed my life, or how it will continue to bless the lives of my family and friends, but I trust God does know, even though I don't.

How much did Mary know?    I don't know, and it doesn't matter.

 She had the faith to do what he called her to do.  And hopefully I will too.  She helped share the gift.  At all times, but especially at Christmas, I really want to help share that gift too.  I want to share His love, to give freely of my heart, to help others who have needs, to do for others what they may not be able to do for themselves, with faith and trust and hope for a better world. 

What I said

So, about a month ago, I spoke in stake conference.  A brief explanation of what that means for those who are not members of my church (Mormon or LDS, officially called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints--no wonder we shorten it!).

 A local congregation of about 300-600 is called a ward.  Typically a ward's boundaries are by geographic location, so usually people in the same neighborhood or close area would be in the same ward.  Several wards make up a stake (also geographic, but covering a much larger area, usually a section of a city.)  I believe our stake has 9 wards.   That's several thousand people.  The leaders of the stake are called by the leaders of the church, and twice a year, we gather as a stake, and receive counsel from them as well as those they ask to speak. 

I was asked to speak about faith in adversity.  WHAT A TOPIC.  I was also given 7 -8 minutes.  If you know me, you know what a daunting task that is.  I am not a person of few words.  (Clearly...look at my posts.)  I love words.  I love to explain things.  I love symbolism and description.  So I really had to choose those things which would be most important to say.  I know there aren't a lot of people who are still following my blog (I can check the numbers to see how many times each of my posts are viewed.  The first one was viewed more than 300 times.  The most recent one is at about 30.)  And I'm OK with that, no offense taken.  This blog is as much for me and my children as it is for anyone else who cares to share in it.  For those who have the desire to keep reading all I have to say (lots of words...I know), I thought I'd share.  I felt like it was a big responsibility.  God chooses his leaders, and his leaders prayed about who to speak, and asked me.  I prayed about what to say.  I went to the temple (a special building dedicated to God) and sat and thought about what I needed to say, what I have learned, and what people needed to hear to help them learn.  This is the final draft: 

This year has been one of the most memorable years of my life.  Early in the year, I felt impressed that it was time for us to have another baby, our fifth child.  It was a leap of faith, but we took it.  Our little boy was born this summer on July 25^th, 2 1/2 months early.  His hands and feet were so tiny, he had so much hair for a 28 week old, and he was beautiful.  The reason he had been born so early was that doctors had detected some problems with his development, and hoped by taking him early, they may be able to save his life.  We knew he would have a tough fight ahead of him, and that he would need to be a warrior, whether in this life, or whether he was sent home to live with our Heavenly Father.  So we named our little warrior Gideon.

We prayed for a miracle.  Our names were on many prayer rolls, our family fasted for us, we fasted for our baby.  I had a priesthood blessing before he was born.  Gideon was given a blessing when he was 4 days old.  I waited for him to be promised that he would be healed.

 He was not. 

The next day, Scott gave him a name and a blessing, as we knew he would probably not live long.  He was promised that “he had touched hearts and lives and would continue to do so.”  He was told that “your life, though short, has no less meaning.”  I cried. 

He died in my arms the next day.

My speaking to you today is one way that his priesthood blessing is being fulfilled.  I hope that the spirit will fill our hearts, and help us all learn, so that Gideon’s life can continue to bless others.

Our Heavenly Father is a master creator.  Take a look around at the amazing world we live in.  He has an amazing plan for each of us, we are each to become a masterpiece.  Like a piece of artwork in the making, it may not be perfectly clear what the end result will be, but because God is shaping it, we know it will be good. 

Trusting in that plan is hard sometimes.  My life has changed forever.  I do not see things the same way anymore.  In some ways, things have come into a clearer focus.  In other ways, I am often confused by the emotions that I feel that seep into everything I do.  This hurts, a lot.  Sometimes it’s hard to breathe.  Turning to the Lord more often has helped me so much.  I treasure words of scripture, my temple covenants, and Heavenly Father’s plan so much more.  I am more grateful now for the gift of the resurrection than I ever have been before.  My relationship with my family members has become even more of a precious treasure to me.  Even though I don’t know why this has happened, I do trust that it is part of God’s plan for me, to help shape me into who he wants me to be.

Many people have said to us: “You are so strong, to be dealing with this” I don’t think that’s really true.  We freely admit that we need the Savior’s help, we happily own up to the fact that we are too weak to do this without him.  Too often in the storms of life, we decide to just try and deal with things by ourselves, and we let the waves and winds give us a pounding.  I am guilty of this too.  We don’t ask our Savior for help so that he can calm the storm.  One thing I am learning is that I can’t ask him to calm the storm just once and never have another storm pop up.  Right now, doubts and sadness are something I have to deal with frequently, but I can choose to seek His help and doubt my doubts, or I can let the storm beat me up.

Everyone is given hard trials in their lives.  We are all different, and our trials are likewise all different.   I can’t tell you exactly what will help you with the trials in your life.  Thankfully, I don’t have to.  Whatever it is you need, God knows.  He wants to help you become something amazing, if you will let him.  When we seek his spirit, he will help our weaknesses become strengths.  He will help our strengths become stronger.

We will find what we are looking for.   Reasons why life is unfair are all around us, they ache in our hearts, they frustrate our lives.  Satan makes them easy for us to find.  He still hopes to take away our agency from us, and if he can wrap us in despair, he can make it easy to stop choosing, to stop living, to stop being happy, which is the object and design of our existence.

 If we are looking, though, we can also see reasons why we are being given more than our “fair share” of blessings.   Heavenly Father blesses our lives abundantly, but we sometimes fail to recognize it because we get caught up in our aches and pains and frustrations.  Because of my need for strength, I am trying to do better at looking for His hand in my life, and I am finding it. 

In the last few weeks, I have felt His spirit and the Holy Ghost comfort me many times.  I have used talents and gifts that Heavenly Father gave me during times when I am feeling sad.  My spirit has been touched by the words of scriptures, uplifting songs, words of apostles, and words of comfort and inspiration given to me by friends and family members who have followed promptings to reach out to us.  I could honestly spend hours telling you about the times my heart has been touched in the last few months, and the ways I have been helped.  I have already spent hours writing about many of them, so that our family will remember forever, and so others can share in this journey.

My spirit has become more sensitive in these last few months, and many things make me cry.  Sometimes, it is the power of truth, sometimes it is a longing that won’t leave, sometimes I just feel overwhelmed.  Briefly, I will share a few of the words and pieces of songs which have deeply touched my heart:

“Families CAN be together forever.”  Phillipians 4:13 “I can do all things, through Christ, which strengtheneth me.”    From David A. Bednar “It was the load that provided the traction.”  From Dieter F. Uchtdorf “those who set aside the bottle of bitterness and lift instead the goblet of gratitude can find a purifying drink of healing, peace, and understanding.”  “My life is a gift, my life has a plan, my life has a purpose, in heaven it began.”

Gideon’s life was a gift.  It had a plan.  My life has a purpose, and Heavenly Father wants to help me accomplish it.  “I Stand All Amazed at the love Jesus offers me.”  Because of him, the prayers of so many will be answered.  We all prayed for Gideon to live, and he will.  I will be resurrected and my Gideon will be resurrected, and I will get to raise him.  My spirit burns with the truth of these things. 

 

 

 

Giving thanks

First, let it be said that I love being grateful.  God commands us to do it, and I believe he knows what he’s doing, and have seen evidence in my life as to why being grateful is good for me. Beyond my own observation, studies have shown that showing gratitude is good for your health. Lest you not believe me, here are a few articles to back up my words.

How Being Thankful Can Help You be Healthy

Fox News, Thanksgiving Science

However, this has been one of the most challenging Thanksgivings I have ever had.  I am still grateful for much, but it was hard to focus on my gratitude today, as I have missed my baby so much.  Holidays and family memory days just bring it home, his absence is much more tangible. He was one of several babies born this year in my husband's family, and I got to see ALMOST all of them today.  Growing, crawling, playing peekaboo, snuggles, sleeping on shoulders, it was a little hard to see today.  Watching others with their babies and feeling it pull my heart strings isn’t what I had planned for my Thanksgiving this year and I felt it a lot today.  

I normally have a heart brimming full of gratitude, and it comes easily.  Today hasn’t been like other Thanksgivings for me.  My emotions have been close to the surface all day, and so have my husband’s.  I want it back, I want my happy, easy Thanksgivings back.  I am not sure it will ever be the same.

In my attempt to focus on gratitude, I thought that it might help if I started to list those things I am truly grateful for. My heart hurts, and gratitude is not the easiest thing to focus on, but when I muscle my way past my sad, it feels like opening the curtain to a beautifully set stage and watching a drama unfold. There's a lot behind that curtain, it's just a hard curtain to pull back sometimes.

1. I have a home.  A nice home with multiple bedrooms and a kitchen and electricity, and more than one bathroom and running water.  To many people in the world, my house probably seems like a mansion.  I am very grateful for my mansion.

2. I have access to modern, miraculous medicine.  Anyone who has ever been in an NICU or has been treated for strep knows the difference good medicine can make in your health.  And even though the NICU couldn’t save my baby’s life so that he was here with me this year, they kept him alive long enough for me to get to hold him, and for my kids to get to give him kisses and sing to him, and we have memories with him.  For a while, we weren’t even sure we’d get that, and I’ll take that miracle.

3. Perhaps this is a silly thing, but I am grateful for this flower, which bloomed today.

I love plants, I love gardens. This time of year, there aren't so many in bloom. We received this beautiful plant on the day of Gideon's funeral. It bloomed well for a few weeks, and hasn't bloomed again until today. I think that God and Gideon planned to let me know that he's not as far away today with this beautiful gift.

4. I am grateful for my children. I am in love with each of them, and my heart strings are plucked more frequently now than ever when I see them smile, when they finish their first chapter book, when they play a piano song in front of people, when they find good ways to solve their problems, when they smile, when they play nicely and give hugs. Sadly, my heart strings are also more sensitive to the sad moments, when my kids cry, when they fight, when they don't do well in school, and I am more prone to cry about things that normally wouldn't have hurt so much. I heard it said that with deeper pain comes a capability to feel more joy, which I have found to be true. I joy in many more things much more than I used to, but I also find sadness in things more than I used to.

5. I am grateful for my fabulous friends. I have had many who have been sensitive to my feelings, who have been paying attention and seen my hard moments, who have known what I have needed and helped fill that. I have many who have just listened, who have tried to understand, who have given me reassurance and empathy and love and who have let me have my sad moments and let me have my happy moments and not judged.

6. I am so so thankful to have a wonderful relationship with my family, including my in laws. I know lots of people who grunt and groan over spending time with their in-laws. Not me. I love coming from a big family (1 brother, 3 sisters) and I wanted to have a big family myself, and my in-laws are an even bigger family that I love being a part of. I have a bunch of brothers and sisters that I love and respect deeply, who are also friends to me. I love being an aunt, I am blessed with a plethora of nieces and nephews, and I adore them all. I was able to hold a few babies today, which helped my heart when it was missing my own baby. I am a huge fan of anyone in my family, on either side.

7. I am grateful for distractions. I teased my son a little bit about saying he was grateful for entertainment when we were listing things we were grateful for. (We have a fake tree. Each branch that goes on the tree has to have a "I am grateful for....") The truth is, though, that the entertainment and distractions have been very helpful to our family during the difficult moments. We are all big fans of America's Funniest Home Videos. When I would bring home bad news from the hospital, we would talk about what was happening, and then we'd cry, and then we'd watch AFV to laugh it off. I have needed the laughter release, and so I too am grateful for entertainment.

8. I am grateful for kind strangers. Yesterday, I got a phone call from a person who had heard me speak a few weeks ago, who said she felt like she needed to give me a CD of songs that might touch my heart and that were very relevant to my situation. She got my address and came and delivered it with a hug. My nurse from the hospital wrote to me and told me how much she had loved helping me and how sorry she was about our baby. People I don't know very well have been so kind, I have been grateful for the charity in the hearts of people. It restores my faith in humanity.

9. Scott. Oh my goodness, I don't know even how to say how thankful I am for my husband. Statistics don't look good for couples who have to deal with the loss of a child. 90% end in divorce, but I don't see ours going that way. If anything, our marriage has gotten better, as we have committed more firmly to our relationship. We want to be together and enjoy our living children. We don't want the mess of custody battles, we already know how it feels to lose a child, and we don't want to lose any more to each other. Nobody understands what I am experiencing like he does. And nobody understands him like I do. He's my best friend, my closest companion, and he has the ability to calm me in ways that nobody else can. I went into shock at the hospital and shook for almost an hour. I felt cold, I couldn't get warm, I just shook. The nurse brought me warm blankets, they kept pumping me with fluids, I almost fainted, I felt barely conscious. It wasn't until Scott wrapped his arms around me that I was able to quit shaking. I don't ever want to lose that, he's the best medicine for me. Ever.

10. This is as long as I will make this list, so I have to list the #1 thing that has helped me through (Scott is a very close second). My faith. I am so grateful for my faith. People who don't believe in God sometimes joke that believing in God or Jesus is like believing in Santa Claus. They see it as childish and petty and stupid. And if they want to see me as childish, petty, and stupid, I suppose I will deal with that. Here's the thing: our world, our solar system, the human body, they run more efficiently than any machine that humans can create. If I found a watch laying in the middle of the desert, I'd pick it up and know that someone had created it. I wouldn't just think it had spontaneously put itself together, I would know it had a creator. I think the same credit should be given to the creator of the earth, of animals, plants, and human beings. 

I am glad to know that God is my creator, that he has a plan for me, and that Gideon was part of my plan here on earth, and that he will be part of the plan for me after I am resurrected. I love reading the Bible and Book of Mormon, the scriptures bring me comfort and help me to feel his love. I have had inspiration that has answered deep questions and wonders in my life which has come from me praying and asking for an answer, and then having the words of a scripture come to my heart, or feeling that I need to go read Phillipians 4, or whatever other prompting in my heart. And I find answers. I have had healing come through priesthood blessings. I take great comfort in my creator. I don't know why this has happened to our family, I am trying really hard to be a good Mom, I feel like I should get to have my baby here, and I can't tell you why Gideon was only able to come for a brief visit. I don't have to know the answers now, though. I have practiced trusting in the Lord enough that I will trust that he has an answer to why this has happened and that one day I will know. Call it "believing in Santa Claus", but it's helping me to cope with dignity and strength and happiness, so I'll take my "Santa Claus" and all the joy it brings me over the destitution and emptiness that would be in my heart if I believed that it was the end. I am SO grateful for my faith.

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope all who read this don't have to try as hard as I do to pull back the curtain to find gratitude in your lives, but even if it is a challenge, I hope you take it. The stage is set, there is much to be grateful for.

Contagious!!

The last week has been a particularly trying one, not having so much to do with the loss of our Gideon as just life as a parent.  Hyrum got pinworms (diagnosed on Tuesday) , and then our James got strep on Saturday.  My life has become a whirlwind of trying to eliminate all potential germs/eggs.   I am not one to be OCD, but everything looks like germs to me lately.

Yes, those ARE Yo-Yos posing as germs....

I have bleached my kitchen multiple times (floor, counter, sink, cupboards, insides of drawers we use regularly), I have washed sheets, blankets, cleaned out the children's drawers and washed EVERYTHING in hot, often with some bleach.  I have dumped entire bins of blocks/toys into a bathtub of bleach water to try and eliminate germs/eggs.  I have missed classes so that I could keep our contagiousness home and try to get rid of it.

Scott and I talked about how nice it would be to have an "exempt card" once you have been through a rough, soul-shaking trial, where for a few months nothing bad could happen to you.  Sadly, life doesn't work that way.  We also wondered what we could learn from this, feeling now more than ever that there is a purpose to all we do.

So here are some of the things I have learned this week, from pinworms and strep, and particularly from being contagious.

First, I have to recite this awesome quote that I have loved for a very long time.  It's pretty much the theme for this entire post, so pay attention!

"Your attitude is contagious, is it worth catching?"

I have thought a lot about this, especially as our family has been highly contagious.  I have wished that positive attitudes and strong faith could be as contagious as pinworms.  Drop a few little hints at happiness, a few smiles, a hug, a sweet act of kindness, and even days later the effects could be felt, and truly, even felt stronger than when they initially started.  Wouldn't that be great?

And then I have thought about people who have touched my life in small ways, who were able to deeply affect my happiness, and who continue to influence me, even just in my memory.  My grandpa Kidd was a sweet man, very playful, such a tease.  I loved the way he said "Dad gummit" when he was frustrated.  (Perhaps he said worse things than that when his grandchildren weren't around, but that's what I remember.) I loved his hugs.  I haven't seen my Grandfather in 17 years, but his love and playful attitude have been something I cherish and foster in my life.  They were as contagious as pinworms.

Sometimes it has been the other way too.  People who have done or said unkind things, who have judged me wrongly in ways that hurt, as much as I try to just forget those types of things, they just don't go away.  Those too have been as contagious as pinworms.  Weeks, months, years later, the effects are still there, the feelings can still be hurt anew.  No amount of "bleaching", "cleaning", or "washing" can undo those things. (Yet...)

I don't know if we all realize how contagious we are.  Every day, the things you do may not only affect someone's life that day, but every day after this one.  An act of kindness, a smile, spending time with someone, giving a word of caution, it could save a life.  It could damage one.

To prevent spreading our negative contagiousness, I have made my children bath and wash A LOT.  All our  hands are pretty dry, and we are working on treating that too.  We are not only trying to keep the negativity from leaving our own bubble, but we are working on eradicating it IN our bubble.  Thinking about how contagious our attitudes are, I have concluded that the world would be an infinitely more enjoyable place if everyone decided to isolate and then eliminate negativity from the inside.  That includes me, I definitely have moments where I need to stop, wash the negativity off of myself before I go anywhere, and then work on getting it out of my heart.

Negativity (and pinworms) hide really well.  Nobody knew that we had them (until I posted it on facebook, which I did out of consideration for those who may have had any contact with us), even we didn't, until I saw them.  Pinworms and negativity are often both a slow, subtle progression, sometimes with no symptoms happening for a while.  I have become a very diligent cleaner, even though I am not a fan of cleaning.  I don't want these to be a part of our life, I want them out.

Negativity can do that too.  It's easy to hold on to anger, to frustration, to bad experiences.  Sometimes I think we even store them up so that we have "weapons" in our arsenal to use against other people.  In thinking about "what can I learn from pinworms", and my epiphany about being so very contagious, I feel that I need to be much more diligent about cleaning out my arsenal, because it gets pretty heavy to carry that stuff around all the time, and it just messes you up.

Sometimes, like strep, there are alarming symptoms that spring up out of the blue.  James was running around and playing in the morning, and by the mid afternoon, was complaining of being cold and a sore throat, and then a headache, and then he got a fever, and he didn't have any energy.  Unfortunately, he seems to get strep a lot, so I am getting pretty good at recognizing his symptoms, and they are often that way, he's playing and having fun and I have no idea that by the end of the day he will feel like death.  I think negativity can do that too.  Sometimes it doesn't build up slowly, sometimes it just comes on fast and hard and ugly and wipes us out, and if we aren't being careful to treat it and stay away from people, we have the potential to spread an awful lot of "nasty" all around.

On a positive note, in my crazy busy life, I have had more time at home with my kids, since we were trying to keep our "yuck" to ourselves.  I have loved the time with my family, even if some of it was spent bleaching my house and doing 38,241 loads of laundry.  (OK...that's probably an exaggeration, but it has felt like a never ending battle with daily sheet/blanket washing, towel replacing, and the cleaning out of entire sets of drawers/closets.)  The extra does make me look at the pictures on the wall more and miss my baby.  Time spent with my children does that now, it carries with it a taste of sadness that was never there before.  It also helps me to be grateful for their lives, for the things they say and do.  I am more inclined to laugh now than I was before at the silly things they have a fit over (Mom, that's a flowery pillowcase, and I'm a boy.)  I am getting better at not sweating the small stuff, and focusing on the bigger picture. (That being said, hand washing is no longer considered the small stuff, though.  That is a SERIOUS VIOLATION!!)

Pinworms and strep this week have made me realize that I am on a quest not only to rid my house of germs, but of fault finding, backbiting, guilt, anger, jealousy, dishonesty, and bitterness, and instead to fill it with laughter, trust, happiness, truth, peace, confidence (but not overconfidence), and love.  Just like bleaching my entire house, vacuuming and scrubbing floors, cleaning out closets and drawers, and washing all of everything and anything, that is a huge task.  Insurmountable, really.  But unlike cleaning my house and all it entails, which I am trying to do by myself so as not to spread germs to other people, I don't have to do the healing of my household by myself.

 I don't have to be the do all, catch all, be all peace maker, confidence instiller, love giver, honesty detector.  I can involve my Savior.  He makes it possible for me to one day be able to eventually get over those things that still bring hurt to my heart.  And I look forward to that time with my whole heart.  I look forward to that complete healing, but I also am grateful for the healing power that I can experience now, for the comfort I feel from him, and for his power to eliminate negativity, not only in my life but in the lives of those I might accidentally hurt.  What a super hero.  I am so grateful for his help in my life.

Today, I am grateful for the lessons I am learning, and for Jesus and his love and healing power in my life, but I still think an exempt card would be nice.

Memory triggers

My emotions have been very triggered by the video of the father who sang "Blackbird" to his newborn son.  It has gone viral, several of my friends have posted it on facebook.  If you haven't seen it yet, here is a link.

Viral Charge article/video: father singing to dying baby

This has pulled on my heart strings, bringing back memories that I have of our baby, of the background noises of the NICU, the scrubbing in, the tubes and wires, the "incubator" that kept my baby warm once he left the safety/growth of my body.  Seeing this has made me wonder if I should have posted our videos from our last day with Gideon, when we sang to our dying baby, also hooked up with cords, tubes, with the noise of the ventilators in the background.  If I could post them on my blog, I would, because I would love to share those moments with those who care to see them.  But I don't know that I want the whole world to see.  In some ways, perhaps it would increase the support system, lots of people praying and hoping for our happiness.  I am afraid to put them out there though, because there are always those trolls.  And for every 100 people that may say or do something positive, I am not sure if I could handle any comments that were rude, judgemental, or that downplayed and judged my grief, or anyone else's.  That is the #1 reason I never put our videos of singing to our baby out there.

If you haven't noticed in previous posts, I am REALLY not OK with people judging others trials.  Nobody can know what another person is going through.  None of us have identical memories, identical strengths and weaknesses, identical family situations, identical motivations, or identical situations.  We can feel empathy, and we should be kind and reach out to others who may be going through something similar, or even something that we think is hard.  But don't say "I understand" if you don't.  Don't say "I know what you're going through." when you don't.

Sometimes it's OK to say "I don't know what to say, but I am thinking about you, and my heart aches for you."  It's OK to say "I am so sorry."  Those are words with truth behind them, they mean something.

Our Gideon...When he was first born, I had been having some weird stuff going on with my throat.  My voice was raspy and hoarse.  Maybe it was from too much crying, or from celebrating at my brother's wedding the week before.  I wanted to sing to him, but had no voice.  When we knew he potentially had a lethal condition, one of the things I really hoped for was the chance to sing to him.  I prayed for some time, I prayed that my kids would be able to have the chance to see him before he passed away.  And I prayed that my throat would get better, so I could sing to my baby.  I love music, it is a huge part of my life, and was something he had heard in the womb.

Both of those prayers were answered.  He was here long enough, and my throat got better in time for me to be able to sing to him, not only by myself, but with my family.  He lived long enough for our kids to get to come see him twice, and they were each able to hold and kiss him.  Seeing the videos of this man, who was grateful for the four days he got to have with his baby, makes me even more grateful that I got to have a week with mine.  If you didn't follow the link, this is what he says at the end:

I am so thankful for the four unforgettable days I got to spend with him.

His mommy would have been so beyond joy to see him and to hold him, touch him, bathe him, sing to him – as I have had the privilege of doing.

I have been so blessed and honored to love him before he was formed, to cherish him while mommy carried him, meet him face to precious face, and hold his perfect little body while we said “goodbye for now”.

We held Gideon.  We sang to him.  I don't know how this daddy held it together when he sang because I struggled when I tried to sing.  I can't sing and cry, and I am not good at keeping my emotions inside of me.  I wish I could have sung straight through without having to recollect myself.  Some of the songs we sang to Gideon still make me cry.  Give Said the Little Stream is a sweet song, but we sang it to him when he was alive, and we have sung it at his grave more than once.  It holds now a sweet sadness, a different flavor than it used to.  I am so grateful that I got to meet Gideon, and that I haven't had to go through the loss of a spouse on top of it.  I am so grateful that I got 7 days, instead of just 4.  That my kids got to meet their brother.  I am grateful for the knowledge that it was not "goodbye" but just "goodbye for now."

At least one person has asked why we were smiling when this picture was taken.  There are a lot of reasons, but here is a brief explanation.  Our hearts were full of both joy and sadness that day.  It was a miracle that we got time with him at all.  I was so glad I got to sing to him.  We had a one week birthday party for him, and the kids colored on the tiny blanket that you can see in this picture, and gave it to him.  Those moments are beyond precious to me, and I was happy to have them.  I was happy to be able to hold my baby, even though I knew I wouldn't get to have him with me for very long.

Reading the story of the father and his tiny son, and watching him sing, I was so happy for him, for the memories he got to make, and I feel so glad that the father got the chance to sing to his son.  That song, those times, will probably always be so precious to him.  As I see people post about it, I know that our Gideon will always be precious to us, and that many people empathize for a loss such as this.  I am grateful for the strength and the courage of the man, for sharing his story and his words, because they have reminded me to be so grateful for the time I had with my baby, and to be grateful to still have the rest of my family with me.  His story has made me cry in sad and happy ways, it has been a terrific reminder to have a heart full of gratitude, and to remember that the end of life is not really the end.

Moments I might have missed, a party with lemons

All of these pictures have been taken since our sweet Gideon died.  In our efforts to make the most of it, we have had lots of joyous moments since then.   I am often painfully aware of all that I am missing out on by Gideon passing away.  I watch my sweet nieces and nephew make the progress that babies make: rolling, sitting with help, sitting independently, scooting, crawling, etc. and know that if he were here, he would get to do all these phases soon. 

However, if he were here, he would likely have only gotten home from the NICU just recently.  Our lives would have been full of hospital time, and we might have missed some of these moments.  So here's me looking at the bright side, the what I got to have with my family.
 


Hyrum, James, & Alydia, excitedly holding up a "monster" carrot.  We would not have had the time or energy to have had this moment, if Gideon had still been in the NICU.  Gardening would definitely have taken a back seat, and even if the kids magically were inspired to garden without us, I wouldn't have been there to be able to take this picture.

 

Here's an awesome one taken on or around the day I posted about Rain and Tears.   It's a gorgeous FULL rainbow, taken from my front lawn.  That garage on the left, and the flowers, those are mine.  There was so much rain this summer, and I cried lots of tears with many of those rain storms, but rain means rainbows.  It means gardens that are watered when a Mom and baby are in the hospital, and when Mom is recovering and too overwhelmed to keep the garden alive.  It means sweet smelling air, and it reminds me of a quote by Dieter F. Uchtdorf, one of the 12 Apostles.  "How much of life do we miss by waiting to see the rainbow before thanking God that there is rain?"  This post is an effort for me to "thank God for the rain" even though I still hurt a lot.

Rain & Tears & Rainbows

 
 
 
  My son was due right around my niece's first birthday.  I wondered if they might even share a birthday.  Our family was able to go to her party, watch her eat cake (or play with it) for the first time, and that probably wouldn't have happened if Gideon had been well and born on time.

This was taken on a hike about 10 minutes away from our house.  Scott and I went up here a few times to get away from things.  It feels really good to briskly hike when you are mad or upset or frustrated, and better to do it with your very best friend.  We took our children up one day as well.  This hike was quite therapeutic for the two of us.  Had I still been pregnant, I likely wouldn't have been so keen on hiking.  Had Gideon still been in the hospital, I likely wouldn't have made the time to go take a hike with my husband, to get away from it all.  I'd have too many things I had to do with the time spent at/near home.

 

 Not many days after Gideon's funeral, we were able to go to the Ogden Temple Open House with our family, see the beautiful new temple, and talk about eternity and heaven and Jesus with our children.  This picture was taken on that day.  Our summer was crazy, with weddings, campouts, and then "surprise" a baby coming 2 and a half months early and only living a week.  I had not made reservations for the open house.  A friend of mine had a reservation for 7 that she ended up not being able to use, and we were able to go.  She told me that the 7th one was for Gideon, and she figured he'd meet us there.  While I didn't necessarily feel him there, it doesn't mean he wasn't there with us.  I'm so glad we got to go.  

Hyrum as Spiderman

 Last, but not least, Halloween.  My original thoughts and plans were that I would be home with a newborn baby on Halloween.  I was going to let Ethan take his younger siblings trick or treating to maybe 10-15 houses that were close by, within eyesight of our front room, and that was it.  We were not going to go to any Halloween carnivals, parties, or etc with our newborn baby.  And while I'd have rather had the baby than all the trick or treating and carnivals and etc., we were able to have lots of fun making memories and enjoying time with friends and family. 

Life has definitely handed us a few lemons, and that's not very fun.  But when you have more lemons than you can even make lemonade with, why not share them?  Why not make lemon meringue pie, and lemon bars, and have a party?  That's what this post is all about.  I miss my boy, and wish I could have had so much more time with him, BUT I have been richly blessed with a gratitude for the time I do have here with my family, and I still have other beautiful and fun children, a terrific husband, and a huge and wonderful support group of family and friends who are all that much more dear to me.