Easter thoughts

As I began to think about my feelings on Easter, and what to say and how to share them, I think my first thoughts were questioing and cynical. What can I say about the Savior that hasn't already been said? What can I say about Easter that hasn't already been said?

Do you ever sometimes feel like church, fasting, and life is just going through the motions? Does it ever feel repetitive and meaningless? Why do we do the same things over and over again?

I have fasted and prayed many times before, and each time it was a different experience with differing levels of the spirit present. I hoped that Friday's worldwide fast would be intensely spiritually uplifting, and physically not as taxing as it was. But I really struggled with it. Of the times I've attempted to fast, I feel like this was one of my weaker--my head hurt more, my body felt tireder, and I couldn't keep myself warm. I wanted to be filled with the spirit of hope, but largely I felt frustrated that I was struggling so much. How could I be fasting for a miracle for the world when my own body felt like it couldn't handle it? Was my fast good enough, even though I had to stop early? Is it good enough even if I wasn't able to spend as much time focusing on spiritual things because I was too busy taking care of day to day things? Was it Ok even though I had a really hard time with it?

In the last conference, Sister Joy D Jones shared a conversation that she and several children had with President Nelson in which he said:

"Of course it's hard. Everything to do with becoming more like the Savior is difficult. For example, when God wanted to give the Ten Commandments to Moses, where did He tell Moses to go? Up on top of a mountain, on the top of Mount Sinai. So Moses had to walk all the way up to the top of that mountain to get the Ten Commandments. Now, Heavenly Father could have said, 'Moses, you start there, and I'll start here, and I'll meet you halfway.' No, the Lord loves effort, because effort brings rewards that can't come without it. For example, did you ever take piano lessons? ...What happens if you don't practice?"

Pearl: “You forget.”

President Nelson then responded.

“Yes, you don’t progress, do you? So the answer is yes, Pearl. It takes effort, a lot of hard work, a lot of study, and there's never an end. That's good! That's good, because we're always progressing. Even in the next life we're making progress."

The Lord loves effort.  Did I make an effort?  Yes.  I am trying and that is what counts.  And I keep trying every day.  As Elder Holland pointed out in a talk in April 2016

"When there was a controversy in the early Church, regarding who was entitled to heaven's blessings and who wasn't, the Lord declared to the Prophet Joseph Smith, 'Verily I say unto you [the gifts of God] are given for the benefit of those who love me and keep...my commandments, and [for them] that seeketh so to do.'  Boy, aren't we all thankful for that added provision 'and...seeketh so to do'!  That has been a lifesaver because sometimes that is all we can offer!  We take some solace in the fact that if God were to reward only the perfectly faithful, He wouldn't have much of a distribution list."

On Friday, I was under the category “seeketh so to do”.  I tried hard to fast. That matters.

Going through the motions, whether it's fasting, going to seminary, reading the scriptures, saying our prayers, attending church, taking the sacrament, or any other host of repeated tasks we do to enrich our spirits could be likened to breathing. Just because I do it thousands of times a day, does it make it meaningless or unimportant? How about eating? Just because we eat every day, multiple times a day doesn't mean it doesn't count, and it doesn't mean we don't need the food.

In the example President Nelson gave, where the Lord commanded Moses to go up Mount Sinai, do you think after 1387 steps, Moses decided "I've been putting one foot in front of the other over and over again, and nothing has happened, so this really doesn't count.  Why am I even doing this?"  Maybe he did think that.  But still he kept stepping until he got to where the Lord needed him to be.

Well, what does this all have to do with Easter? Easter is a celebration of Christ overcoming death and sin. He felt every pain. We learn in Mosiah 3:7 that His experience was so difficult and painful that if a mere mortal would have had to endure it, they'd have died. The Come Follow Me manual suggests two questions: Why did He suffer? and What does it mean for me?

When man fell, we lost our ability to be in God's presence. Our bodies are mortal, our flesh is weak and we struggle to keep up with its demands, needs, and desires. As evidenced simply by fasting, it takes a lot of effort just to stay alive. And sometimes we feed the wrong desires or passions and we make mistakes, and we grow further away from God. On our own, there simply was no way for us to return and overcome.

Christ didn't just build a bridge so we could get back to Heavenly Father, He IS the bridge back to Heavenly Father.  He suffered so He could become that bridge.  And that means now I have a way back home.  He also suffered so that He could understand all of us, so He would know how to comfort us, inspire us, and help us keep going on our long journey to our own personal Mount Sinai, as we try to get to where the Lord wants us to be.

Is it hard to get to where we are supposed to go?  Yes.  Are we going to endure tragedy?  Obviously, yes.  Spencer W. Kimball in his talk "Tragedy or Destiny" said 

"Being human, we would expel from our lives physical pain and mental anguish and assure ourselves of continual ease and comfort, but if we were to close the doors upon sorrow and distress, we might beexcluding our greatest friends and benefactors.  Suffering can make saints of people as they learn patience, long-suffering, and self-mastery.

If we looked at mortality as the whole of existence, then pain, sorrow, failure, and short life would be calamity.  But if we look upon life as an eternal thing stretching far into the premortal past and on into the eternal post-death future, then all happenings may be put in proper perspective."

Even though I am not a big fan of this pandemic, I think it has begun to make saints of people.  And although I fasted for relief from Covid 19 and that life will return to normal, I suspect that we still have many steps on our journey before it's over.  But Christ felt all this pain.  And He overcame death, so all this death and dying is not the end.  All these people have left mortality, but because of Christ, they will rise again in perfect, healthy bodies.

I've mentioned before that I've been very afraid since the beginning of the pandemic.  I don't want to have to bury any more family members.  The longer this goes on, the more likely it seems that this very thing may happen.  It scares me still, but I keep being reminded that death is not the end.  It hurt so badly to bury Gideon.  It still hurts to know that he's not here, that I don't know what his favorite children's book is or what his favorite food would be.  But I  feel beautiful joy knowing that I will get to know him and spend time with him when he is resurrected.  And he will be resurrected, we all will be, because of the Savior.

Over and over again, we are told to "remember".  It is in the sacrament prayers.  We are to always remember Him.  It's easy to go through the motions and forget why we do them.  Easter is an especially good time to stop and truly remember Him and appreciate Him.  Just because the truth of His redemption and resurrection has been discussed before doesn't make it any less true, and it doesn't make it any less important.  Just like this breath is no less important than the one I took 10 seconds ago, or the one I'll take 10 seconds from now.  Continuing to breathe (mundane as it may be, repetetive as it may be) is pretty important.  Continuing to do the things that allow the atonement to work in our lives is also important, and part of that work is done as we choose to remember Him, over and over again, just like breathing.  And as we put forth our efforts, even if they're less than perfect or don't turn out how we hope.  The Lord loves effort and He loves us, and we need to remember that.

Spiritual Earthquake

So, we had an earthquake this last week. It was a 5.7 magnitude, with the epicenter about 35 miles south of my home. It lasted for probably 10-15 seconds, and I woke up to both the feeling and the sound of my home shaking. I could hear pictures banging against the walls, hear the washing machine thumping a little bit as the ground rattled, and I could feel that the bed and house were definitely shaking. Thankfully, nobody was hurt, (not even closer to the epicenter) and our home has no damage. The foundation must be good, and the earthquake was not too severe. People were already buying in a panic because of being nervous about Covid 19 and hoping to be prepared to go into lockdown if necessary. After the earthquake, though, people realized that there is a whole different level of preparedness that they may want to have in place, and panic buying happened again, but with some different supplies and plans. Emergency bags, in case you had to leave quickly. Cars full of gas, and maybe even some gasoline storage. People thought of different things like: are my shelves secured so that things won’t fall off of them or they won’t tip over? Those types of things aren’t the same as what you’d need for an outbreak of a virus. And being prepared for a fire wouldn’t be the same as being prepared for an earthquake. It made me very aware that there are multiple layers and levels of preparedness, and I may not be ready in all areas, and I feel like it’s something that I need to work on.

These last two weeks have been a little bit of an earthquake on my faith. I feel kind of shaken up and confused. I firmly believe in God, I know that He is real and that He is aware of me and all of His children. I feel comfort when I read HIs words and when I listen to the voice of His servants. But I have definitely felt overwhelmed by fear and worry many times. After losing Gideon, I have become ultra afraid to lose another member of my family. It’s a pain I don’t want to have to experience more than once. Since his death, the nightmares I have where I lose another child are much more jarring and painful, and since Covid 19 and then an Earthquake, I have felt quite a sense of foreboding. It has affected my ability to sleep well, and has affected my confidence in God’s plan for me.

But the Lord is still reaching out to me, if I look for it and pay attention, and thankfully I have learned to pay attention for his nudges and to his nudges. One way that he reached out to me is through the message that President Nelson gave a few weeks ago. https://newsroom.churchofjesuschrist.org/article/president-nelson-message-covid-19

I felt so much sincerity and love and inspiration as I watched and listened to this. I truly feel so grateful to have a prophet, and I felt loved by that prophet as I watched that message. Looking into his eyes, I can feel the spirit and the truth as he testifies that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ know us and love us for certain. And as he talks about optimism for the future, my worries calm down and my hope and faith begin to take center stage and crowd out the despair.

Another way I felt the Lord reaching out to me is through music. As I worried and struggled to focus my trust and faith, I’ve begun praying and asking the Lord for help. I believe He inspired me over the last few years as I sought to write a few hymns which I submitted to the church. Whether or not they end up becoming a part of the hymnbook we sing from regularly, the Lord inspired me with those songs, and perhaps for my own good. This week, one of the hymns that I wrote keeps popping into my mind, and has brought me comfort and reminded me of a few things. The first verse says:

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart. Be not wise in thine own eyes. He will direct thee, don’t depart. Ask the Lord, He will advise.

I realized as I keep humming and thinking of these lines that I have not been trusting the Lord with all my heart. I’ve been trusting Him with part of my heart, but not all of it. I know that He is able to make amazing things happen in the middle of extreme trials. I have seen great things come out of pain. I have seen faith and perspective grow from loss. I have learned so much as I let him lead my life. And as I have resigned myself to trust him, I feel happier and more whole.

I’ve also felt inspired to look for the positive and for the good things. I’ve felt inspired to try to share light and goodness with others in whatever way I can. D&C 98:1 says “Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks.” I believe looking for ways to rejoice and give thanks will help me not to fear.

Thankfully, I have a firm spiritual foundation, and so I don’t think there will be any permanent damage from the spiritual earthquake I have had. Earthquakes of faith will happen sometime, and so it is good to be ready. It’s a kind of preparation that is very different than preparing for a physical earthquake or a fire or a viral outbreak. Two things that I think have helped me to be ready for an earthquake of faith are: 1. Gaining a testimony that I am a child of God. When I remember that relationship, it makes everything else easier. A part of how I gained that testimony is through learning to pray and feel that the Lord is listening. That means I can’t rush through a prayer and move on. It means I stop to feel, to wait as I pray. It means I open up my heart as I open up my mouth. And when I do this and I feel a sense of His love, or when I do this and I get an answer, my testimony that I am His child grows deeper. Number 2: Learn to feel and recognize the spirit. This is how most of the answers to prayers come. It is how most comfort comes. And it’s how we nourish our faith, and keep it alive and growing. We need daily nourishment in our bodies, and in our preparations for disease outbreaks or fleeing an earthquake, we plan for food and water needs. We need daily spiritual nourishment as well, which I’m pretty sure is why the Lord asks us to read our scriptures and pray each day. This is something I could do better about, but I have more good days than bad ones.

Even with the reminder from the prophet, with feeling His love, with feeling inspired to trust the Lord with my whole heart and the comfort that came from knowing that He is trying to comfort me and reach me, I am still having aftershocks. It is a scary time, and I’m sure the aftershocks will continue. But I will continue to prepare for whatever spiritual earthquakes and aftershocks might try to rock my world.

I’m kind of bummed that my family is not going to get to take the trip to Arches over spring break. We went a few years ago, and I really wanted to have time to show some of the younger kids who don’t or can’t remember it. Hopefully once things die down with this virus, we’ll still get that opportunity. As I’ve thought about cancelling our trip, though, I remember thinking a little bit about how I felt one of the first times we have drove down there. Much of Utah is a barren desert. And it seems like you drive for hours (It’s about a 4 and a half hour drive total) and nothing changes and you’re going nowhere. The scenery isn’t very exciting and without a certain knowledge of the road I should be on and the direction I should be travelling, I wouldn’t have been very excited about the trip. I may have doubted that I was going the right way, or even that anything cool could possibly be at the end of such a journey. But once I got there and saw it and experienced the awe and joy of the amazing place, I definitely was glad that I trusted the road and the directions.

I feel like this journey through a viral outbreak (and really through life) might be like that. There’s a lot of desert. A lot of uncertainty. A lot of wondering when we’ll get there. But if we stay on the covenant path and trust in the road and that the destination is going to be awesome, we’ll be glad that we did.

Isaiah 41:10 says “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea I will help the; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness."

As a mom, I hope we are prepared for whatever may happen in our home and in our family. I hope each of my children will prepare spiritually for the earthquakes that will rock their testimony and test their foundations. I hope we will be prepared physically for the trials that lie ahead of us, whether it be earthquakes or sickness.

Holiday Season 2019

This paragraph was written in November 2019: As we’ve approached the holiday season, I have thought so much about my little son who’d be 5 this year. What if I was given the gift of an hour with his 5 year old self? I’d hug him and look him in the eye and tell him that I love him. I’d hold him on my lap (if he wanted) or just sit right by him and read some of our favorite children’s stories—whichever ones he chose, and I’d sing him a few of my favorite songs. I’d use my phone to take pictures of the special moments, but not to text or Facebook with other people, not in that precious hour. And I know an hour wouldn’t be enough, but it would be such a blessing. Even now, I’m still learning from the loss of my son. It dawned on me, I need to treasure the “gift of an hour” I have with my husband and my kids that are still here. Things still have to get done, but my goal this week of Thanksgiving is to use the “gift of an hour” with each of my kids and my spouse, because I forget way too often to treasure the time I have with them, and to give them time that really makes life rich and full of love and connection. Tonight I held the baby longer than usual and tried to keep my perspective in place as I paced with her. I’m tired, I’m overwhelmed (like most moms with young babies) but I’m grateful that she’s here, and that I get this time to snuggle her and watch her grow. As you consider things to be grateful for, don’t forget to be grateful for (and to use wisely) the gift of each hour you get to spend with people you love. 

One thing that has been fun with having teenagers, toddlers, and an infant is that the kids are all excited for Christmas for each other, not just for themselves.  The kids tag teamed to buy each other gifts, and they were excited to discuss and plan what they'd get for each other.  I think having some younger kids who still feel the "magic" makes the older kids more respectful of who the "magic makers" are, and the older 2 boys even helped me to put out the Christmas presents on Christmas Eve.  While the house and the routine fall by the wayside over Christmas break, it felt like our stress and our short tempers also took a break.  The bigger kids played with the little kids, we watched a few movies ALL together (which is so rare anymore) and I loved the extra relax time. 

My kids hate taking pictures, but I am grateful to finally have one that has all 6 of our living children in it.  I do so wish that I had pictures with all 7 children, though. 

One thing that has been fun with having teenagers, toddlers, and an infant is that the kids are all excited for Christmas for each other, not just for themselves.  The kids tag teamed to buy each other gifts, and they were excited to discuss and plan what they'd get for each other.  I think having some younger kids who still feel the "magic" makes the older kids more respectful of who the "magic makers" are, and they wanted to be a part of that.  The older 2 boys even helped me to put out the Christmas presents on Christmas Eve.  While the house and the routine fall by the wayside over Christmas break, it felt like our stress and our short tempers also took a break.  The bigger kids played with the little kids, we watched a few movies ALL together (which is so rare anymore), and we worked on a few projects together.  I loved the extra relax time.  Miriam loves to match with her big sister, but she now has the ability to match outfits with the baby sister, and she was so excited to get some matching pajamas with the baby.

Uncleaned pans of bacon grease left an opportunity for a fun message for mom to find later. 

 Alydia loves to create.  She REALLY wanted a quilt making kit, but it was cheaper to buy the pieces of fabric.  I ended up deciding that the deal was so great, we'd get everyone fleece for Christmas and work on making blankets together.  Here is Alydia's finished blanket, (Miriam's is in progress on the floor), we worked on it while watching a movie together (Grandma Wight gave us The Fighting Preacher, which we all enjoyed.)       

 Over break, we went to the Leonardo museum.  They actually worked together on building this block "jail", and I'm a sucker for any time the bigs and the littles work together on anything, so it made me really happy.

Toddlers and teenagers post 1 of many

Ok, I have seriously debated about changing the name of this blog to "toddlers and teenagers".  But that name could only be temporary, because a few years from now, there will not be any more toddlers.  And a few years beyond that, there won't even be any more teenagers.  And my heart is already afraid of the emptiness those days might bring (although the peace and quiet doesn't sound all bad).  I am getting to be such a sentimental mommy, holding a young baby as I watch my 16 year old walk in the door after high school sometimes makes me tear up as it vividly reminds me how fast the time has flown by, how quickly they're all growing, and I just wish I could get it to slow down a little.

This is a post I shared on Facebook a few weeks back, as I'm trying to balance it all, and continue to focus on blessings, not burdens.

  "One of the great struggles in any life, but I’m especially feeling it with a large family that includes teenagers & an infant, is balancing my time. Today I went to my son’s jr. high to try and get his schedule changed. A few classes he currently has got switched and we hoped he could switch back to keep his schedule more like what he has, except there’s a kid in a few classes currently who has become a pest especially to this son of mine. Those we hoped to switch so he wouldn’t have so many together (currently they share 4/8 classes.) We discussed things, we tried juggling changes, and we just couldn’t figure a way to shift things perfectly, so we agreed to leave his schedule “as is”. As I was leaving with my 2 little girls, the secretary apologized that it had taken my time and no changes were made. But I’ve thought about it since she said that, and I don’t think it was wasted time. My son and a counselor and I discussed options, explored possible solutions, and weighed outcomes and then left his schedule alone. He knows I care, he knows his counselors care, he knows that sometimes we can’t get everything we want in our schedule (if that’s not real life, what is?!) and he made some hard decisions. And he hadn’t told me about this problem boy until we discussed changing his schedule two days ago. It was time well spent. That has me wondering to myself: How often do I think that I wasted time, when it really was well spent? Time reading with kids, time helping them organize, time snuggling, time enjoying a movie with my husband...I beat myself up about “wasted” time way too often and I need to change how I see things. This is just one more “blessings, not burdens” shifts of mind I need to make."

Having toddlers and teenagers can make it feel ridiculous to balance life, fun, and family time.  Sort of like many of the meals around here, it's hard to find things that everybody loves.  Sometimes what might be fun or exciting for a few is not fun or exciting for all, and that's OK too.  There are all kinds of different needs and interests to try and encourage and balance.  But I do love the moments when we find things we ALL love.  Everyone enjoys watching the baby laugh.  We all enjoy nature, so many trips to national parks and national monuments and beautiful places are on the horizon.  We all enjoy laughing, so we can pull up family friendly comedy and everybody has a good time together.  And we all enjoy science, so my older kids still look forward to visiting places like the Natural History Museum of Utah, which is where we went 2 weeks ago on a Wednesday evening.  I am so happy that my bigger kids still look forward to going places with everyone in our family (not every place, mind you, but I'll take any enthusiasm from the teenage crowd and be grateful for it.)  I feel blessed by my family, they challenge me regularly, but I have learned so much about humanity, about triumph, about love and life from them, and I continue to learn on this crazy journey.

Overwhelmed, but it's not about me.

A few of you who know me well know that Philippians 4:13 is my favorite scripture. “I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me.” While it’s still my favorite and I have firm faith in its truth, that doesn’t ever stop me from being human. I feel overwhelmed. I feel unsure of myself. I feel like I don’t know what to do or how to do it. And I’ve felt particularly overwhelmed lately. I'm trying to find time to help my teenagers with their homework, to make sure my oldest child is getting in his driving hours before he gets his license, trying to teach piano, trying to teach my 4 year old to read, nursing a baby, making home cooked meals.  I want each member of my family to know they are loved, and sadly, often my husband comes last.  We're trying to do better about reading scriptures together, there's just so so so much to do, so much to think about, so many lives to balance. The house has been a disaster since before Christmas.  Not an EPIC disaster, but there's a little clutter here, there, and everywhere.  In trying to squeeze in all these important things, the house has just not taken a high enough priority to declutter and organize it all.  And organization is not a gift of mine, so it really does take some high effort for me to make it happen.

One of the beautiful things about this scripture is that it’s not about me—it’s about Christ. I don’t have to do it all, I don’t have to know everything, because He’s helping and that’s what counts. I am still feeling very overwhelmed and unsure, but I also feel grateful for so many blessings.  While Christ can't really help me with cleaning the house, (well, He could, but He's pretty busy with other things), knowing that He is busy with other things reminds me that it's OK that I'm sometimes pretty busy with other things too.  

And sometimes, my overwhelmed isn't an overwhelmed that's an overload of struggle, sometimes it's a heart so full it feels like it'll burst.  I watch my teenagers snuggle my baby, as I watch my 4 year old sing to her when she starts to cry, as I watch my 11 year old try so hard to get her to laugh and the whole group gathers around.  My sweet husband and I have been married almost 19 years, and he still makes me smile every day, and he does kind, thoughtful things that make me feel so treasured.  My children are all growing and developing into talented, smart individuals.  They're pretty kind to others, now I just need to get them to be kind to each other...

So I know Christ is giving me strength and perspective through all this craziness, and I'm doing my best to enjoy the ride.  

Burdens and blessings and balance

For the last few days, I've pondered what I could do and change in my life as we roll into a new year and a new decade.  One thing that I definitely think I'm learning, but need to continue developing is the way I view many of the critical components of my life.

Having a big family is not without its share of responsibilities.  It's often overwhelming and frequently frustrating, but there are also many moments where it's excessively exciting and fabulous fun.  These moments all can even happen at once, as children are figuring out the world, want to be independent, they can say and do the darndest things.  For example: during holiday baking, I decided to let my younger kids help me, I even let them crack the eggs...and there were some messy failures and they were worried I'd be angry, but I told them I knew what I was getting into when I let them take a chance at learning, and we talked about how they could've done it differently and we cleaned it up.  It was fun and exciting and overwhelming and frustrating all at one time, but it was part of our learning journey.

I was wondering about ways to lighten my burdens, and I had an epiphany.  Many of the things that I view as burdens are simultaneously blessings in my life too.  My family.  Paying bills.  A job.  Responsibilities I have in my church calling.  Home responsibilities.  Every single one of these things feels like a big burden, but each one of these things is also an immense blessing if I choose to look at it that way. 

When I was pregnant with Gideon, I kind of thought he'd be my last baby.  However I had a massive change in my heart when I learned that we were most likely going to lose him.  For that one week, I treasured the time, not just with him but with all my children and my husband.  Every minute I got to spend, each song I got to sing to him, each laugh I shared, the few snuggles I got to give, they were (and still are) a pearl of great price to me.  My attitude about my kids shifted from focusing on them as an overwhelming burden to an overwhelming blessing.  That is partly why, since Gideon passed away, we have had 2 more.  I honestly don't know that we would have chosen to do so minus that metamorphosis.  The change doesn't so much lie in how much time and effort it takes to raise them well, but in my viewing that time spent as a privilege rather than just a price to pay.

And this week, I've realized that I can re-balance my attitude about more things than just my children.  My responsibilities in other areas of life can also be given a sense of wonder and gratitude and I can learn to value them as blessings, rather than burdens.  I'm grateful to have a small part time job.  I'm grateful for my husband's job, even when it's somewhat demanding.  I'm grateful for this home.  I'm grateful for enough clothing that I have to do so much laundry.  I can even be grateful for the aches and pains I experience, because I've experienced healthy moments and will experience healthy moments again.  Blessings, not burdens.  That's the change I want to make in my life going forward.

Loss is still changing me

I was talking to someone about how you feel when you are very first given the news that someone you love is in the hospital, especially when their life is in danger.  It hurts, it's terrifying, in some ways it feels like everything freezes the moment the news breaks.  I remember feeling like it was wrong, 100% wrong for the whole world to continue turning when mine had just spun off its axis like that.  How could people continue going to work?  How could I carry on with life?  I'm sure anyone who's experienced a sudden tragedy, a death, an accident, an illness that really stopped them in their tracks can relate with that feeling.  Just for a few days, couldn't the entire world stop while I came to grips with what was going on?  Some days, I still wish the world could stop turning again, just to give me a minute to think, to feel, to remember, to not rush on with him gone.

A few months ago, a friend of mine received the horrifying news that her oldest son (in his early 20s) had passed away.  He had a genetic condition that was related to the health problems that caused his death, but it was still unexpected.  She is a therapist herself, and it has been so eye opening to me to see her post about the trauma and stress that she has experienced and that she's able to recognize in her life as a result of losing a child.  Her openness has helped me to realize that some of my issues are pretty normal for a parent coping with loss. 

Nightmares have become a huge part of my life since Gideon passed away.  I can't tell you the number of times I've had a dream where I watch one of my children drown or fall off a cliff since he passed away.  I have come to terms with the loss of my child, but my head and heart are terrified that I'll ever have to face the tragedy of losing a child again.  

My heart shatters with people I know if I hear that one of their children has died.  It hurts so much and I feel my own pain all over again as I sympathize with them.  I have shed tears with every friend of mine who has lost a child since I lost mine, whether they have known it or not.  

I still miss the milestones.  I miss him on his birthday, and on holidays.  I miss him when my other kids have their special moments: when we celebrate them getting A's, or at recitals or soccer games, or when they participate in their firsts.  The memories are something I did not get enough of, and I long for more.

I have a harder time now when my children leave my sight, to go to school or other places without me.  That sounds a little weird, but it is true, I'm afraid to lose them, I'm afraid to hurt again.

And both pregnancies I've experienced since Gideon's have been filled with far more anxiety than my earlier pregnancies were.  I am still eager for each ultrasound, but I'm also a little terrified that they'll find a problem that is life threatening and I'll have to endure it all again.

It's a rough road, it's definitely bittersweet.  There are a lot of things in my life that are harder since losing a child.

However, like the sky after a thorough rainstorm, there are some things that are clearer and more beautiful in my life as well.  And if all I did was talk about the negatives, I wouldn't be acknowledging the beautiful blessings I've experienced since Gideon passed away.

Along with the terror and fear of losing my children has come a sense of treasuring who they are and the moments that I have with them.  I'm grateful for the perspective that reminds me to love and treasure these moments, especially now that I have teenagers and a preteen who have quite the delightful temperament at times.  It helps me cope with this difficulty and at the end of the day, I can still hug them and sincerely love them, despite their occasional abrasive nature.

Along with the fear in the pregnancy came a realization of the miracle that a healthy human baby is.  When Miriam cried out in the hospital, I shed tears of joy, because this child could breathe, she could cry.  And even though a crying baby is no fun, I appreciated the fact that her lungs were that developed, and that she didn't have to spend time in the NICU.

The milestone days are hard, they are.  I want to know who he would be, so badly I wish I knew him better.  Again, though, this has taught me not to take the chances to get to know people for granted.  We live in a world where we're often very preoccupied by screens and not reality.  And I'm still guilty of spending too much time in those arenas too.  But I love the chance to have a sincere heart-to-heart with ANYONE, but especially my own family members, because all people are precious, and I am so grateful when I get to make those kind of real human connections.

There's nothing good about nightmares.  I can't think of a silver lining on that one.  I don't think I learn much from them, except to be grateful when I wake up and realize that I'm alive, my children and husband are OK.  But most of us have experienced that after a nightmare, I don't think I am the only one.  They're not fun.

I have also realized that, though the world never stops turning for anyone or anything, moments count.  Any moment can be precious if it's treated that way, made to be precious, and made to count.  Pictures capture moments, and I'm so grateful for the technology that allowed us to take pictures in the hospital and to remember the few moments we did have with Gideon, and for the memories I can capture and review through photographs or videos now and in the future.

Many people are absolutely baffled that I am pregnant again.   I honestly hate being pregnant.  It makes me so sick, it's uncomfortable, it's stressful, and I like my normal body so much better.  This is actually my 8th pregnancy, we had a miscarriage before I was pregnant with Gideon.  And I fully own that I'm at least a little crazy for doing this so many times, especially since I don't love it.  However, after Gideon's loss, I came to realize that, at least for me, raising a child is easier than burying one.  I love being a mother, even though it's incredibly hard.  Watching my children grow up, taking the moments to hold those babies and toddlers and to teach them, nothing else comes close to that experience.  Each human life is its own miracle, and my desire to participate in that miracle only grew as I felt and continue to feel the loss of my little boy.  Believe it or not, I actually thought Gideon was going to be the "caboose" in our family.  The changes my heart experienced definitely opened up my heart to the possibility and desire of having more children after we buried him.  The little girl we added to our family after Gideon brought so much joy into our family, and gave our waiting arms a chance to hold and love a little one, which we had TRULY felt like we missed.  Sometimes I feel a little bit bad for the children I had before Gideon's loss, because I didn't love and treasure their babyhood as much as I have after burying him and wishing he was here to cuddle and love.

I don't explain that because I think everyone who loses a baby should feel what I have felt, nor do I explain it because I am trying to talk anyone into dealing with things the way I have.  I don't expect anyone or everyone else to react to loss in the same way that I did.  Nobody should feel bad for deciding that, after a loss, they can't do it again and put themselves through the possibility of more pain.  Not everyone who loses a child will want to have more children after that, and that's OK.  Another thing I have realized and continue to be very aware of is that everyone's experience with loss is NOT THE SAME, and, as people, we have to allow grief to happen and heal in whatever way works for each individual.  Even my own husband and I do not always feel grief at the same level, at the same time, or always completely understand what the other one is thinking or feeling as we've journeyed through grief.  Even though many of our experiences with his loss were shared, we still don't feel exactly the same about everything.

One HUGE thing I've learned from this journey through the loss of my sweet boy is that life is such a different experience for each of us, and we can't expect any solution to be "one size fits all".  In our very polar world, many political parties assume that their "answers" should fit each and every person in the world.  I do agree that there are some rights and truths that should be universally applied to ALL people, but I think too often, we expect that one solution, one method will work for everyone.  We are all on such a different road, with different experiences and education, with different perspectives and power, with different abilities and gifts, that we have got to stop expecting everyone to have the same opinion as we do, or to do things the same way we would do them.  It is OK for us to realize that we are all on our own journey, and to appreciate the learning and perspective we can gain from each other, without having to agree on how its done.  Life and perspective is a blessing we so often take for granted, and I am grateful to have so many friends and family who don't see things in the same way as I do, but who have loved me and allowed me to be me through this journey.  I'm sure a few friends and family have wondered about me having more kids, about why I've shared my feelings, about why faith in God is so vital to me, but I appreciate that, despite our differences, they have let me share my perspective and been respectful, even if they don't agree. 

I'll share one last thought about something I've learned and am still sorting out how to deal with.  Each person who lives has so much potential to change the lives of the people around them.  Even my little Gideon, who only lived for a week, has massively impacted my life and the lives of people in my family.  How much more impact should I be able to have, having been alive over 1000 times longer than he?  I think those of us who are still so blessed to be alive often don't realize our potential to make the world better.  Feeling the impact of a human being who only lived a week has made me realize that my own impact could be so much greater, and that all people have an amazing potential to enlighten and uplift others, whether we seize the potential or not.  I'm not constantly motivated (because, really, who is?!) but I have noticed that since he died, I want to use that potential more and more. 

I keep on learning from loss, I keep growing and changing.  It's hard, painful growth, like when muscles break down and rebuild themselves stronger and better.  Superman said "No pain, no gain" and there's much wisdom in that.