The burden of feeling joy

I have always experienced days where I felt like I was not good enough.  I think that's part of being a human being that is invested in what they are doing...you can't help but wish you were better at things or had more hours, or knew more about what to do. 

Since Gideon, though, when I feel "not good enough", there is a lingering doubt that maybe I just wasn't good enough to be his Mom on earth.  Maybe I am too busy, maybe with my other children, I just couldn't meet his needs, maybe I don't have enough patience.  Or worse, maybe the things that I enjoy are more important to me than he was.

There are moments when I am grateful for the sleep I am getting since I don't have a newborn waking me all the time, and then I beat myself up about being glad for being well rested, and I wonder maybe if I like sleep more than I like having a new baby, and that's why he couldn't stay.

One day when I was feeling these feelings, feeling like I wasn't a good enough Mom, like our family wasn't a good enough family, I really felt strongly that Gideon didn't want me to blame myself, or to ever say "we weren't good enough" when I talk to my children about Gideon.  And I keep reminding myself that it's not really true.  If I didn't want him, I wouldn't have had him.  Why can't myself figure this out?

That thought that "I loved other things more" refuses to leave though, it haunts me persistently.  I keep watching people's children, especially young children, because it helps remind me that I LOVE having babies around, that I don't mind changing diapers, that I'm OK with holding a baby while I do dishes or play piano (yes, I can practice with a baby on my lap, but it's difficult.).  Being around other young children, having them in my home helps me say to myself: "See?!  I could have handled more than 4."  I feel like I'm still trying to convince myself that I am capable, that I love kids, that I wanted Gideon in the first place.

It's awful.  I have my happy days, where I see the growth in myself and my family that has come as a result of this experience.  I have my OK moments, where I am doing good things and feeling good about all I am doing.  And I know I need to be busy doing good things, because I'd go crazy otherwise.  But sometimes, good moments (such as doing well on a quiz for school and feeling great about it) are burst by the ghost of my thoughts "You enjoy school so much, maybe it's a good thing Gideon died, so you can be doing this." 

I LOVE doing good things.  I do love to be busy helping people, loving people, serving people, learning & growing myself, and helping others learn and grow.  And having a new baby makes it hard to focus on anyone besides the baby, which I have struggled with before.  It's overwhelming, and I feel bad when I can't give my other kids and my husband the attention I want to when I have a new baby.  I have been glad for the opportunities I've had to keep helping others learn and grow since Gideon passed away.  And then I feel guilty for feeling glad.

I was trying to balance focus on Gideon with focus on the rest of my family during the time he was in the NICU.  We were told initially that he would likely be there for 12 weeks, (if he'd been a healthy 28 week old, that probably would have been true), so I was trying to spend mornings at home with my other kids, help them get jobs done and help them each do a little bit of learning (reading, writing, whatever) before I left to go see Gideon.  I didn't think it was fair to spend 12 weeks living at Primary Children's and leave my other kids motherless during that time.  I wanted a balance I could keep up for weeks on end, and I felt like I had a good balance between his needs and the family's needs.  Then we learned that he was going to die.  Well....let me rephrase, because obviously he was going to die, we all do.  We learned that he had very few days to live.  At that point, besides feeling dread at losing him, I wished and wondered why I hadn't spent more time with him.  Why didn't I give my newborn all my attention?  I could have stayed at least one night with him in the NICU, why didn't I?  I had one week to be with him, and I treasured the moments I did have with him, but why didn't I have MORE moments with him?  I think that the hospital experience is part of what has driven my guilt.  And it's stupid and I should stop.  It's unfair of me to wish and wonder and question why I didn't do this or that.  At the time, I was trying to take care of my body (after just having a baby), my emotional needs, and the needs of my other kids.  But I feel SO bad for not spending more time with Gideon, and I wonder if I just didn't have a high enough priority on him.

I sometimes wonder if this will ever end.  Will the guilt ever quit?  Will I ever just be able to feel happy about doing well in school, about taking care of my garden, about making meals for my family?  Am I always going to feel like he was never a high enough priority for me in the first place?  And I don't know.

I should quit beating myself up.  It's not fair to me or my family.  It's not fair to Gideon who I know doesn't want me to feel like I wasn't good enough.  I don't know how to stop.  I have tried ignoring it, which is making it worse.  Feeling joy now carries a heavy weight with it. 

I have some goals, and I will let everyone know how they all turn out.   Until I was writing this down, I didn't realize that I haven't prayed specifically about these feelings.  Goal #1: I will pray about it.  I do know God listens to and answers prayers, and I know that he is a master healer.  Goal #2: I will spend time finding scriptures about mercy and forgiveness and also happiness.  I KNOW that human beings were created so that we could have joy and ultimate happiness by becoming like God and eventually having eternal life.  I have been seeking to find joy through this whole thing, but it's joy with a side of guilt and questions about my priorities.  Goals #3 &4: I need to find peace in the temple of God and ask for another priesthood blessing.  I haven't had one since before he was born, and this is a new reason for needing help. 

Temples are a place where I feel closer to God than anywhere.  I feel a sense of who I am and who I want to be, of what will help me be truly happy.  I have had inspiration there to help me with struggles in my daily life. 

The power of priesthood blessings is very strong.  I was in a very awful snowmobiling accident years ago, and was promised in a blessing that I would heal completely and quickly.  Serious back injuries don't usually do that.  And mine has.  I have been given blessings where the Lord communicated to me answers to things that were in my heart that I hadn't uttered aloud.  God knows me, and can help me through this. 

I will report on my 4 goals in future blog posts.  I realize this may be a process I need to repeat for the rest of my life (more prayer, scripture study, temple worship, and priesthood blessings to cope with guilt, questions, and doubt), but I know I can't go wrong following the pattern, so perhaps this will be one of those things that will give me experience and be for my good.

Masterpiece in progress

Back in May, our family went to Bryce Canyon National Park.  It was beautiful, and we were amazed at the miracle of the way the hoodoos and the different formations have come to be.  I loved hiking around and learning about the area with my family.  I was pregnant, it was before we knew there would be problems with Gideon, but was after the time when I felt sick.  Such great timing for me, I was so excited and happy.  And God's creations are so gorgeous, and I felt amazed at the diversity of beauty in the earth.

Yesterday, Scott was talking to me about how he sometimes feels like our journey through life is like the slow transformation of the earth.  Most of the time, erosion happens a little at the time, the masterpiece of what God wants us to be is happening almost imperceptibly.  It took many years for Bryce to become what it is now, and it continues to change little by little.

Other times, it's like a flash flood that runs through and takes massive amounts of debris and reforms and restructures what we thought things were going to be in our lives.  Gideon's death was like that, and some of our really sad, really humble moments since have been like that.  It's sometimes painful, the changes we experience, the pain at what we thought was going to be washing away completely.

But in the end, it's going to be a masterpiece.  It is hard to go through this much reshaping, the floods of tears and emotions, the wondering what to do now.  We are trying to trust in God through the whole process to see what we can become through his powerful hands.  Some days it feels like nothing is happening, that it's boring and uneventful.  Some days, we can see obvious changes in our lives and evidence that God is working a mighty work in us.

Chutes and Ladders

OK, how does Chutes and Ladders relate to my situation?  Well, I will tell you all. (I have a WEIRD way of finding life parallels in the simplest and oddest of situations.  Some time I'll have to tell about the awesome spiritual parallels I found with nose picking, and puking, or playing with playdough.)
 
My 9 year old was having a rough night tonight.  After he said his prayers, he began talking about how much he missed Gideon.  And he started to cry...hard.  And of course, I was crying and trying not to cry, and trying to help counsel him through it, but I also understand his emotions very well.  Poor tender soul.  He whispered "Why did Heavenly Father have to do this?"
 
It was one of those quick "Dear Heavenly Father, please help me to say the right thing to help this child." moments.  Those have happened a lot in my life, but especially lately.
 
So I gave him a scenario.  "Let's pretend that heaven is like a giant scrumptious candy bar."  (James REALLY likes food.)  "You and I are going through life and working hard and learning and having experiences, and we still haven't earned our candy bar.  Gideon only had to be here for a week and he got his.  So...who got the better deal?"
 
My sweet James replied that Gideon got the good end of the deal, and then said he wished he could have traded with Gideon (which was NOT where I wanted this to go) because then Gideon could have had more experiences on this earth, since he (James) had already gotten to see and do so many things.  More tears. (I LOVE being a Mom even during these hard moments.  They help me to step back and see the awesome spirits I am raising and the potential they have, and help me to remember the most important things.)
 
So then we talked about the resurrection.  I recited the 10th Article of Faith for him.  (The Articles of Faith were written by Joseph Smith as a response to a question from a newspaper editor about what we believe.  There are 13 statements, that pretty clearly state our beliefs.  Most of the beliefs aren't unique to members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, as they come from scripture.  We share most of them with people from other faiths.)  The 10th one talks about the restoration of the 10 tribes of Israel, the establishment of Zion on the earth, that Christ will reign upon the earth, and that the earth will become a paradise.  We talked about Gideon getting to be resurrected and live on the earth when it's a paradise, no thorns to step on, no wild animals to be afraid of.
 
And then I related it to Chutes and Ladders.  When we play games like Candyland or Chutes and Ladders at our house, we all get to win.  It's just that the first person to "arrive" is the first winner.  The second person is the "next winner", and so on until everyone has had the chance to get to the end of the game.   High fives all around. 
 
I asked him, "When I am the first one to get to the end of Candyland, do I just sit there while you play, or do I get up and do other things?"  And he said "You get up and do other things."  And I said that was correct.  There are a lot of good things that need to be done around the house, so if I get done with the game, I go fold laundry or run and do some dishes or whatever. 
 
And THAT is what Gideon is doing.  It was like on the first turn of Chutes and Ladders he got to take a ladder right to the end of the game, and he is the first one done.  And the rest of us are still playing the game, and he is busy doing other good things in heaven.  (And I really believe that the spirits in heaven ARE doing good things.) 
 
James said "It's like he got a first class ticket." 
 
 
 

"Yes!" (He gets it!!!  He's not crying!  He isn't still wishing he could trade places!!) (although I CAN relate.  I sometimes wish I could have given him the chance to see and feel and do things here and traded with him.) 

 
I felt so happy and excited myself, as I thought about how this is really how it is.  We are stuck on a long journey through life where we are walking, sometimes trudging along, and Gideon got a first class ticket on the fast train to heaven.
 
Then we talked about how we will still get to where Gideon is if we keep moving, but it's going to take us a lot longer.  And the only way we won't get there is if we give up and quit trying.  It takes only hours to cross this continent if you are on an airplane, but takes months if you are walking.  So we keep walking.  And we hurt, and we wish he was with us.  My arms ache to hold him.  Sometimes it feels like my chest is being sat on by an elephant, it's just so heavy, so tight.  But we keep on walking and trying to do our best, and even more to BECOME our best.
 
I thought about how upset I feel lately when I learn about people who throw their babies away, or kill them, or other crazy things.  I just want my baby so badly and wish people would consider giving theirs to someone who would treasure it, before they do something horrible and destroy life.  AND I told James how grateful I am that Scott and I were married in the temple and sealed forever and our children are ours forever, and that even though right now I can't hold Gideon in my arms, he will still belong to our family always.  Unless I throw it away.  If I choose not to keep the promises I made to God and to Scott in the temple, I will be throwing my baby away too.  What a realization...I do NOT want to do that!

 I am so glad that we got to have time to enjoy Gideon on this earth, even though his time here was so short.  We have precious pictures (as you can see) and at least a few memories with him.  Gideon came and played the "game" with our family.  We all got to see him, and hold him, and feel the spirit he had.   Sometimes when I play Candyland with the kids, and I am the "first winner" I am relieved so that I can go and do other important things.  He was our "first winner."  And he was perhaps also relieved to be done with the burden that life can be, and so he can get to doing important things for Heavenly Father.  The rest of us will keep playing, until we all get to the glorious end.  I am excited for that round of high fives, when we have all become winners.

The Kindness of Others

There are so many people earning "heaven points" for blessing our lives.  In Matthew 25:40, Jesus says "inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." Imagine with me, doing all of these things directly for Jesus.

So I am impressed at all the wonderful things people have done for Jesus by serving us.

I have received beautiful blankets and quilts made with love by friends of mine who want me to have something to remember my baby with.  One was made before he passed away, and that blanket was part of every snuggle, every time I held him.  My friend made a small and a large one, and I sleep with the large one on nights when I really miss him.  The feel of it reminds me of holding my baby, and it's such a treasure.  Sometimes when I've been holding it all in, I pick up that blanket, and brush my face against it, and the emotion leaps up and out.  It is good to have something that feels like him, even though I ache for him when I snuggle it.

 

It's the blue and brown one that Gideon's arm is touching in this picture.

 

A niece of mine wrote a beautiful poem for us, and gave it to me on the day of his funeral.  I want to make sure it's OK with her before I post it on my blog, but it touched both mine and Scott's hearts.

 

People have brought in meals.  Good, healthy food, that I didn't have to prepare, enough said.

 

My sisters in law came and cleaned my house.  Really cleaned it--my fridge was cleaned out, laundry caught up, windows, walls, you name it.  Beautiful!  And during my pregnancy, when I was so sick, I had the help of several women and young women who also served me by helping clean my home, I don't know if I can count the times my mother has come and helped catch me up on laundry folding and sorting and etc.

 

Many people have watched our children for us when we needed it, and have continued to help watch Hyrum for me when I am in class.  (School is helping me a lot, by the way.  I feel less "broken" when I am there learning and working hard.)

 

One dear friend of mine has ironed for me a few times in the last 2 months.  She came over, got whatever needed to be ironed, and returned some AWESOME looking shirts to us.  Even my young boys were impressed.  (I detest ironing, and so their shirts are not very often looking so crisp and neat.)

 

Many others have brought us treats.  It's a funny thing, the whole "sugar makes life better" mindset that we have.  It's true though, when you give a kid a shot in the leg, you just have to give them a lollipop after, and all is well.  So people are proverbially trying to soothe our "booboo" with some sugar.  This is a good and bad thing, when I am trying to lose the last few pounds of pregnancy weight, but my kids LOVE it, and it's like Christmas for them, even more so when I only eat one of the treats and let them have the rest.

 

Speaking of Christmas for them, a friend of mine knew that we would need back to school supplies, and looked up their lists and bought everything for them.  She doesn't live close so she mailed them to us in several boxes.  She put their names on it, and made them each a personal note wishing them luck in whatever grade they were entering.  And she even thought to give Hyrum some crayons and coloring books so he would feel part of the excitement.  It was like Christmas when we opened those packages up.

 

Many people have been generous financially, knowing we would have medical bills to pay and funeral expenses as well.  We have been given money, gift cards, and services to help us to be able to make it through and keep our financial stability.

 

Knowing that I love plants, I have been given several plants both for in the house and out of the house which I can see and be reminded of Gideon, and how he still lives, just not right here with me right now.

 

One wonderful neighbor of mine is going to make a memory book of Gideon's pictures for me.  She is very good at it, and I know it will be a beloved keepsake.

 

Family members have brought us over for meals or just for some fun family time, where we could enjoy good company without having to clean up or worry about hosting, and gave us some wonderful fun memories.

 

Many people have sent us cards and messages, letting us know that they are thinking about us, praying for us, and hoping for our happiness.  Many of the messages have helped us to cope, to gain perspective, or just to feel understood and loved.  So many people put their hearts into it, and prayed for our well being, I feel like this was not just my baby, it was everybody's baby.  I know many of you are mourning with us, and supporting us through this hard time.

 

Even complete strangers have given us kindnesses.  A few days ago, we were at a car show, and I was approached by someone who was participating in a "pay it forward" type thing, who gave us a $40 gift card, and told us to find a way to pay a kindness forward to another person.

 

Today, in the mail, I got a package with a beautiful baby quilt.  It had a lovely, personal letter written from a friend of mine who used to live close, but doesn't anymore.  I can tell she put a lot of thought into it.  She designed each square with light and dark colors, to show both the happy and sad times, our blessings and our burdens.  She put musical notes on the quilt, in the lighter fabric, because music is such a blessing to me, and has helped me through this trial.  She put red in the center, to show the heart at the center of our home.  She remarked that she sometimes wished she could fix everything, and we had the same wish.  She also mentioned that she knows that's not how it works (just having everything fixed all better.)  We still sometimes wish it--can't we just fix everything?  Everyone be healthy?  Be immune to hard times and struggles?  We need struggles to grow, though. 

 

In trying to be healthy and do things to help myself feel happy, I have been walking a little bit more, and have thought a few times about this concept.  Our muscles don't grow unless we work them hard enough that they have to break down and form anew.  There has to be some burn, some pain.  Then our body decides we need the extra muscle and reforms it with more efficient, awesome cells to help us do what we need. Weight bearing exercises help our bone structure to be stronger.  And for sure, this has been a "weight bearing exercise" for our family.  There are times when it hurts and it feels like my chest is being squeezed.  It's not so much hard to breathe as it is surprising that I still can breathe easily despite the tightness in my chest.  It's heavy to carry sometimes.  But our muscles are growing.  And we have people helping ease the pain and weight by sharing so much love and kindness with us.  When I was in high school, the fastest I ever ran the mile was when a friend of mine (who ran a lot and a mile was no biggie to him) ran with me and cheered me on and encouraged me to keep running, even when I wanted to stop and walk.  I think maybe this is like that. 

 

I hope to be able to put these blankets and quilts to use with another baby in the future after I have had some recovery time.  I am so grateful to have them, to be able to feel love through something I can touch and keep and look at and snuggle with.

 

I was talking with a dear friend of mine who pointed out that having a common experience gives us the chance to bond with people in a way we couldn't before.  For example, once you become a mom, it's like being part of the "mommy club" where there is an immediate level of understanding of certain issues, things you experienced while pregnant, etc.  I have found that I am immediately closer with women I know who have also lost a baby, and do feel drawn to those who have similar experiences.  I appreciate their understanding, and taking time to talk with me about their feelings and thoughts, and helping our family.  I hope to be able to make friends I perhaps wouldn't have from this experience.  I appreciate them sharing and reaching out to me with an understanding that only they can have, having gone through it themselves.  That small tidbit helps me to be grateful to have had this experience, hoping that some day, I will be able to help someone else through it, if needed.

 

I just feel so loved, so blessed by so many people.  I feel overwhelmed at the thought of paying all of this forward, but also excited for the challenge to pass on the love and kindness to others.  I hope to be more sympathetic to others in need, like people have been to me, to be kind and helpful and responsive, and to be able to be as thoughtful in giving as people have been to us.  Truly, you who have shown us kindnesses, think of how cool it would be for you to have made a blanket for Jesus, to have brought a meal to Jesus, to have given a hug and a kind word to Jesus when he felt like he was carrying a huge burden, etc.  I have been blessed by so many of his disciples, and hope to bless others to be more like him, to give more like he would give.  I hope to be able to touch people's hearts and make them feel as loved as I have felt in the last few weeks.  Know that my heart swells regularly as I feel the love of many others, and that I am so blessed by so many of you. 

 

I know the Savior felt all our sadnesses and burdens, but I hope he also got to experience all of our joys and feelings of relief, happiness, and love, because he deserves it.  If that is part of the "inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these my brethren" deal, you should all know that Jesus feels so grateful for your love, prayers, thoughtfulness, and kindness.

 

 

 

 

 



Measure in love

9-11 is such a day of memories, stopping to think and remember the tragedies that occurred 13 years ago.  I was newly married, still attending college, and my husband came home from an early morning class and choked up as he told me to turn on the news.  We were both horror struck.  We arranged to meet in between our classes to be together a few extra minutes, it was just so crazy, and we wanted a few extra moments to come back to the safe that we feel with each other. 

Since Gideon's life, I have made it a point to count miracles and to really treasure moments and feelings.  I think that the two biggest things I have learned from this whole experience are that God's hand is there if we are looking for it, and that life and love are so precious, and I need to make each moment count.

Today, my 11 year old said to me that 9-11 meant more to him and took on a new meaning than it ever had before.  When I asked him why, he said that because of Gideon passing away, he had a better understanding of how people must have felt when they got a phone call from a loved one trapped in one of the towers, or when they learned that their family member had died.  He also recognized that it was different and probably worse, because they were killed instead of dying of natural causes, but said he felt like he could imagine the feelings a little better. 

Why is that a miracle?  My Ethan is not usually so good at putting himself in someone else's shoes.  He doesn't think that way naturally.  He can, but I was very surprised and pleased when we talked about it today.  I feel that Gideon's life and death have touched him in a way that is helping him to become a better Ethan, more understanding, more sympathetic and empathetic.  It is something I have been trying to encourage in him for years, and today, it seemed spontaneous.  A miracle.

Also today, I caught myself singing a beautiful song from the musical RENT.  Not my favorite musical, but definitely one of my favorite songs, and I haven't thought of it or sung it for many months.  I have some lovely memories tied with it, it was sung at graduation every year at my high school, and I remember as a Senior, preparing to sing it, and the feelings of being afraid of what the future would hold for me, but also being excited (maybe sort of like jumping off the diving board for the first time.)  

If you have never heard the song, and aren't familiar with the lyrics, this link has both.  Seasons of Love Lyrics on screen

As I hummed and thought of the words, it seemed like it so perfectly fits now, treasuring the moments.  Measuring Gideon's life in love, not in the number of minutes he lived (which was about 10805--he lived a week and five minutes.)  Remembering the way he died, the way we feel when we think of him, the miracles that have come and are coming because of his beautiful life.  His story will never end, and we celebrate and remember his life.  And the story of those who passed away on Sept 11th or any other day doesn't end with death either.  I LOVE knowing that death is not the end.  That helps me to function from day to day, when otherwise this could have been crippling.  We remember the love, we celebrate the moments and the lives they lived, and know it is not over. 

Life is precious.  It's so obvious in a fragile newborn, especially in the NICU, where a baby is hooked up to monitors and machines that ding and beep every time there is a problem.  Our bodies are so miraculous, so fragile.  God and mothers make a miracle every time a baby is born healthy.  There are a ton of machines that have been invented, and that work to help "finish" what a mother's body will naturally do for a baby when it is carried inside her to full term, but life is a miracle. 

 So on 9-11, I am grateful for my life.  I am grateful for the life of my family.  I am grateful for the security I feel in my home and community.  I am grateful for Gideon's life, for the precious 10805 minutes we had with him. (Truly minutes WITH him were less than that, because many of those minutes were minutes when I was sleeping, or at home, or in the other room at the hospital while I was recovering.)  I am grateful for the miracles I have seen and continue to see because of his short time here with us.  And I'm grateful to be able to measure in love, because his life looks much bigger when you measure it in the love that people had for him, for the prayers said for him, the miracles recognized because he was here.  His life continues to help me feel love more deeply, purely, sincerely, and more freely, even though I can't hold him anymore.  He is still very much alive when we measure in love that is still growing.
 

Not what I ordered

Today, I was having a conversation with one of my husband's sisters.  I love all my family including my in laws, and we were discussing plans for when I get to babysit for her darling daughter. (Yes I have been hanging out with a lot of babies lately.  It's not what I always do, but it really, really helps right now.  My husband thinks I'm a little crazy for wanting to be around MORE children and babies so much, but it feels terrific to me.  Anyone who has children and needs a break, THIS is the time to call me.)  I am going to get to watch her baby girl tomorrow for a few hours, and I mentioned that I would pull out our pack and play for her to sleep in, since she has started to roll.

Steph replied that she had ordered one, but it hasn't come yet.

That struck me as what had happened to me in a sense.  I had ordered a healthy baby, but it hasn't come yet.  So I said so.

Then, as I thought about it, I thought that perhaps that was a very negative way of looking at things, and that I probably just put her in one of those "How do I respond to this?!" situations. 

So I added "However, Gideon came with a healthy dose of spiritual strength.  In fact, I'm not sure I could have gotten a higher dose. "  (True.  Not sure how anybody gets more perspective all at once than from losing a dear one.  If there is a way, I don't think I want to find out...)

She said "Sometimes we order something, and when it comes, it isn't quite what we thought we wanted/ordered, but we enjoy it anyway."  Thanks, Steph!  That was a wonderful bit of perspective that I needed.

Today, when I was talking to my doctor, I told him we were doing the best we could with a sad situation and trying to find positives.  I mentioned that I had hopes that this experience with Gideon would help to keep my children a little more "grounded" during their teenage years.  He said to me that he bet it would, and that even though Gideon was only here for a little while, that doesn't mean his legacy won't just keep on going and going.  He also thought that the idea of sharing my milk with the milk-bank was a great way to pass along the good from this pregnancy and birth, keeping his legacy alive by paying it forward to another baby/babies who might need help.

It felt good to have my doctor pick up on that idea so quickly.   He understood.  I want the legacy to live on, I want him to live on through my kind acts, through the good choices my other children make when they remember him.  Through the hugs I hold onto longer because I know I should appreciate them more, because of Gideon.  I have tried to be more generous and kind, because of Gideon.  I want his life and legacy never to end; I know how much he touched my heart.  And if I can keep touching hearts, then indirectly, he touches more and more lives, like the ripples in a pond. 

I put in an order for a baby.  I got a baby.  But only for a week.  He had to be returned.  But I also got some things I didn't expect.  Things I get to keep forever, I hope.  Like a greater appreciation for everyone I love, for the time I have here on earth.  A desire to do the very best things with the time that I have here, because time on earth is precious and fleeting.  My perspective on what matters to me has deepened, and I want to remember to focus on those things I know will help me and my family to be happy, more now than ever.  I got to be the recipient of so many kind acts of love and service from friends, neighbors, and family, and I get to see the miracle of my children learning and growing from this experience too.  My friendship and love for my sweetheart has grown and deepened.  So...this isn't what I ordered, but I know that God knows what he is doing, and when he changed my order, he gave me what he knew I would need to grow and be the best person I can be.  And today, I am thankful that God changed my order.   I'd have loved it if I got to keep my original order AND got all the extra stuff too.  But really, Gideon is in my family forever, and though he is not physically here, and that sometimes makes me ache and cry, he is still my baby.  And when he is returned to me again, he won't have broken kidneys or lungs.  He'll get to grow up and run and jump and play.  Because of Jesus, Gideon will get to be resurrected whole and healthy and will be my baby, and I will get to raise him, and I am so much more aware of and grateful for that gift.

Talking to my doctor today, I was able to ask about having more children, and it felt more possible and real, and less scary than it has since Gideon was born.  When I was leaving, he told me that he hoped to see me within a year, perhaps with a positive pregnancy test.   It felt terrific to talk about it, even if I'm not brave enough within a year to make that leap.  I think I will perhaps need to be a little more "specific" about my next order. 

My James is working on that for me.  Tonight, as part of his prayer, he said "Please bless us with a baby girl that we get to keep,(pause) or a baby boy, you choose.  But please let us be able to keep it, no matter what you choose."  That sounds like a good, specific order.  And I will try to specify a little more too, perhaps the next time, the order will be what I want, as well as what I need.  Meanwhile, I'll keep growing and learning from what God gave me with that last order, even if it was not quite what I expected.

rough patch

The last few days have felt like a little bit of an emotional nosedive with a few ups and twists and twirls.  I don't know why some days are harder.  There have actually been a few days in the last 2 weeks where I have not cried.  The emotions are not always this volatile. 

Maybe it's still post pregnancy hormones--I'm only 6 weeks postpartum. 

Sometimes I think it's because I question my "babymaking" abilities.  Maybe I didn't take enough of this or that vitamin, should have exercised more, should have slept more.  Maybe I try to do too much, and I shouldn't.  Maybe I have a genetic defect...I miscarried the one before this. 

Sometimes I hurt because I question myself as a mother.  I wonder if I was a better mother, if I had a more peaceful, clean house, would that have helped?  Could Gideon have stayed if my home was the picture of peace and perfection, and if my children were harmonious?  Did he get to take a look at us on a day when his brothers were yelling at each other, ready to throw punches, and think "Are you kidding me?  I'm not staying with them!"

Sometimes it's because I feel jealous of other parents with healthy babies, and then I feel mad at myself for being jealous.  I got to hold that foster baby last week, whose parents have had to let him go at a month old.  How come they got to have a healthy baby?!  And a sweet couple in my local congregation blessed their baby boy last Sunday (and I sat at the organ and cried) as the father blessed him with a long and healthy life.  And I'm SO happy for them that they have a healthy baby, and I wouldn't take it away for anything, but I feel jealous, and I DO NOT LIKE TO FEEL JEALOUS of other people, especially when I have a bajillion reasons to be happy and grateful.  (Such as four beautiful children, a great extended family, tons of wonderful friends who watch out for me and keep checking on me, a husband who is loyal and loving, the chance to go back to school because so many people are helping with my 3 year old, musical talent, a nice house, I can go on.)

As I sat in my meetings yesterday, I was looking at pictures of Jesus with my 3 year old, and we saw one of Jesus sitting, teaching a large group of people.  I looked at it for a while, and a few words from the Sermon on the Mount came to mind:

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.... Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.  (Found in Matthew 5 or 3Nephi 12)

 

I didn't remember ALL of that word for word.  I did remember pieces of it, though, and I am grateful for reasons to look up happy promises in the scriptures.  Those words were the comfort I needed to get through yesterday.  I am mourning, and I WILL be comforted.  More than ever now, I am trying so hard to be righteous, to be the best self I can, because I know Gideon was such a special spirit, and I know that my thirst for hunger and righteousness will be filled.  My spirit hurts, and it is more humble now than it probably ever has been, but if I can go to the kingdom of heaven by being poor in spirit, then I will take the blessing that goes with the pain.

 

Truly, the words of those scriptures were powerful in my heart, and helped me so much yesterday.  It was still hard.  I cried a lot.  Today has been hard, I've been on the verge of tears quite often.  The current chapter in my Human Development textbook is covering pregnancy and birth...and I'm sure that has something to do with it.  It makes those feelings fresh and tender again.  And I'm afraid for tomorrow.

I have my post-partum Dr. appointment tomorrow, and I have never dreaded going to the doctor so much.  It's not the speculum (though that's definitely no fun...), it's the memories.  Even the smell of the soap triggers memories of ultrasounds, worry, hope, fear, excitement, the sound of his heartbeat.  And I don't want to talk about it.  I feel like a kid--when they are feeling all uptight and upset and over-reacting, and you ask them what's going on and they reply "I don't want to talk about it."  That's totally me right now.  (And so I'm blogging about it...oh the irony.)  Blogging is easier than talking, though, I can share without having to hear my own voice, or other people's voices. 

Sometimes I can talk about it just fine, there are moments when I can very matter-of-factly tell children  who ask (my kids' friends and my piano students) or even adults about what happened and why I lost my baby, but throw the Dr. and the nurse who were there for the pregnancy into it, and the office with the ultrasound machine where my doctor said "I've never seen hydronephrosis that bad" (hydronephrosis is fluid backed up in the kidneys) and I'm not sure I will be just fine. 

Maybe it shouldn't be a big deal, and I keep trying to tell myself that I shouldn't psych myself out about it. Anyone who knows me knows that I worry and sometimes overthink and stress when I shouldn't.  And I'm stressing about tomorrow.  I'm afraid I'll be diagnosed with postpartum depression.  I shouldn't fear it, but I do.  All along, I had planned that I should still be seeing this doctor for a healthy pregnancy for the next month and then deliver my baby later this month, or early in October.  The way things happened was just...well, not the way I had planned it, and I know tomorrow will remind me of that.

I keep trying to remember that Gideon is still mine.  The pregnancy was not for nothing.  BUT HE IS NOT HERE.  And that's been REALLY hard the last two days.  And the rain...the rain.  God loves me, he takes care of me.  I feel a little bit crazy with the swirling emotions of the last 2 days. The blessings and emotions both fall like rain, there are bright spots like lightning, and there are times when the pain is as real and strong as thunder.  I feel loved.  I feel hurt.  I feel lost.  I am glad to be busy with harvesting and homework.  I love the memories I have, and I treasure them, and they hurt.  I love holding babies, it feels so good, it helps.  But it hurts a little too.  It feels so good, but I miss him.  I love being busy with school, it helps.  But even that hurts, as we talk about human development, and baby instincts, and bonding.  I don't want to forget him, but there are those moments... 

I know if he could, he'd probably tell me to quit fussing and worrying.  I do feel that he is happy where he is, and that he's where he's supposed to be.  (It just wasn't what I had planned.)  I do feel that he is busy doing good things.  I have a sweet sister-in-law who was a friend and example to me, and she is with him, and both of my Grandpas, and my husband's aunt, and many others are with him.  I know he's a special spirit, and I know I need to be busy doing good things here and now, and that I need to hug my kids more, learn more, teach more, be better.  These last few days, it has been hard to be grateful in my trial, but every day isn't this hard, because I do see that I am hungering and thirsting after righteousness more, being made humble, teachable, poor in spirit.  And I can see it in my family.  And I know I will be blessed for all those things, and our family has had a huge lesson in what is most important. 

But I still don't want to go to the doctor. 

Cherished moments

Today brought me a few special treasures.  Moments I want to remember forever.  So here they are for me to remember and for anyone who wants to share in them with me.  And I hope you will treasure the joy I had in them, even if you couldn't experience it for yourself.

Every day brings special treasures.  One thing I learned from the brief time we had with Gideon was how many good memories you can make in a short time, or in the thick of a bad situation.  If you are surrounded by people that you love and that love you back, wonderful times and memories can be created and shared.  Another thing I have learned is how much you can squeeze into a week, or even a day, when you are focusing on really important things and savoring each moment, each hug, each snuggle.

  I miss my baby, but I don't want to miss out on the joys of the other loved ones in my life, and I am trying to do better at treasuring my time with them: laughing instead of feeling frustrated when my kids do something silly, actually stopping to read them a book when they ask (although I have limits, because my kids would go for 30-40 books back to back if I didn't stop them), hugging a little tighter and a little longer, snuggling with my husband every morning before I start my day.  I LOVE these moments.  I love being a wife and a mother.  It's the hardest job.  And it brings daily rewards that I had started to not see until Gideon reminded me how precious eye contact can be.  How precious the chance to hear a baby cry can be.  (I never heard him cry.  Not once.)  How much a snuggle can soothe.

Today, I got to snuggle a baby who was born 6 days after Gideon.  (A foster baby of my good friend's.)  Of course, this was a full term baby, now a month old, so he felt quite big comparatively, but he was still small enough to do that curl up and snuggle on your chest thing.  I think my heart beats differently in those moments when I am holding someone dear and the moment is so special.  And it did that special heart beat thing.  And I teared up, because I miss that "happy heartbeat" that I only got to have a little bit of with my sweet baby.  And I teared up because it felt lovely to experience it and share it with a boy near the age of my son.  A little boy who has already had a bit of a difficult time (obviously if he's been placed in a foster home at 1 month old), and I was glad to share my snuggle, my tender heart, with such a tiny young fellow that has so much potential.  I hope he felt loved in that moment, because I sure did.  I NEEDED that snuggle.  I needed to give love like that to a little boy.  I needed to feel that "happy heartbeat".  I told my friend that I don't think it's an accident that he was sent to her now.  (Not that everything is about me...but I feel like things lined up just right that I was able to have this chance to share some special moments with a boy my son's own age.)

I gave him a bottle, burped him, changed him, and just held him.  Talked to him when he cried, made eye contact with him.  All kinds of things I missed with Gideon.  It felt so good, and it hurt because of the longing and the heartache.  "Hurts so good" were the words my friend used, and they are very fitting.

Also, tonight, I had a serious discussion with my kids when my 9 year old asked me if we were going to try to have any more babies.  That's a bit of a tender subject.  I want more (which is why we were having another one), but this has scared me a bit.  I don't want to go through it again.  I know it's going to take a lot of faith.  And I hope I don't go crazy with anxiety and worry during the pregnancy if we get pregnant again.  I was very honest.  I told my children about my feelings.  I also explained that they could pray to ask Heavenly Father to help me, and to talk to Heavenly Father about anything they wanted and needed. 

We have talked before about how much I have prayed for help and strength through this hard time.  And we have recognized that God gave us a week with Gideon, who likely shouldn't have survived at all, and how precious that gift was.  For about 2 weeks after Gideon passed away, each of the children would nightly pray "Please tell Gideon 'Hi' from me and that we miss him."  Sometimes they still do.

So tonight, a part of my 9 year old's prayer (he still asks me to listen to his prayers at night, and in treasuring the moments, I take the time to go listen) went something like this.  "Please bless us with a little baby girl that we will get to bring home.  Or a baby boy that we will get to bring home.  Or twin girls that we can bring home.  Or twin boys that we will get to bring home.  Or any baby that we can bring home.  And please bless my Mom during the pregnancy that she will be OK and not worry too much."  Touches my heart.  I sit here and cry just thinking about it.  And I LOVE that he specified "that we will get to bring home" each time.  I know the kids feel bad that Gideon never really got to "come home".  He spent his whole life at the hospital.  And we do have great memories from the hospital, and I'm very grateful for those, but it hit home tonight just how much the kids wished we could have brought him home.  The sweetness and the sadness of that moment was very profound to me.

My treasures.  Family.  Friends.  Snuggles.  Sincere prayers that touch my heart.  Books. Scriptures.  Music.  Memories.  Learning moments.  I just feel overwhelmingly grateful for the treasures that came my way today. 

Opposites

I read my 3 year old a book today that had a lift the flap page about opposites.  High-low, tall-short, wet-dry and etc.  We had fun laughing and lifting the flaps back and forth as we'd repeat things like "on, off, on, off, on, off" as fast as we could.  The thought of the opposites page that we were playing with struck a chord with my thoughts, and so I will share.

My life feels like a lot like that lately.  My emotions are going "Happy, sad, happy, sad, happy, sad" back and forth so fast.  My parenting style keeps quickly alternating between "mellow, uptight, mellow, uptight" and my brain is going "here, there, here, there".  Even my weight is starting to go "up, down, up, down, up, down" as I am trying to eat healthy, but also have a tendency to eat emotionally. 

Since mid-July, our family has gone on a big family campout, attended a beautiful wedding, had a trip to Bear World in Idaho, had a baby, lost a baby, started school (kids) and started school (me).  It's a lot of up and down, and it has been probably the best and worst six weeks of my life. 

In this time, and through this journey I have had so much quality time with my family.  And I have loved it.  Even some of the sad moments have been so tender because my heart really connected with one of my children, or my spouse, or a sister, or a friend.  I have had a lot of time to really think and feel and spend time with the things and people that matter most to me. And I am really grateful for that aspect of this journey.

It's also been so wonderful because so many people have served and helped us.  I am the kind of person who sometimes has a hard time accepting help.  OK--often has a hard time.  Maybe even always I have a hard time accepting help.  I have felt so much love as people have offered service, watching my kids or cleaning my house or bringing over dinner, as people have given us money, knowing we would have to unexpectedly pay for a visit to an NICU as well as a funeral, people have prayed for us, reached out to us.  People have been so giving, so generous, of whatever they could.  Sometimes it was just a hug and a listening ear.  I have felt loved.  I know that I have friends and family who love me, but I have REALLY known it over the last 6 weeks.

It's been the worst few weeks for very obvious reasons.  Losing a loved one is really hard, it just is.  I know everyone dies.  I know everyone has lost someone they love.  I know many parents have done it, and that death is a part of life.  And that helps, but it also doesn't help.  This was such a terrible surprise for our family, we had an idea that things were bad, but we didn't know how bad until they decided to admit me to the hospital and give me steroid shots so we could deliver the baby ASAP, and they told me his condition might be lethal.  Surprise!  And it was CRAZY hard to not hold him, and only to be allowed to hold him after we knew he had a very short time to live.  And then to have him die in my arms.  (The moment in this picture was NOT the "moment" when he died, but it was not terribly long after this picture was taken, and we knew it was coming.)



Even some of the things that help me feel happy are also sometimes the things that make me feel sad.  For example, the song "Give Said the Little Stream" says 

"Give" said the little stream.  "Give, oh give. Give, oh give.  Give" said the little stream as it hurried down the hill.  "I'm small I know, but wherever I go the grass grows greener still."  Singing, singing all the day "Give away, oh give away."  Singing, singing all the day "Give, oh give away."

If you aren't familiar with it, here's a beautiful video of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing the song, with some visuals of people giving and helping and touching lives.

 Give Said the Little Stream Mo-Tab

 
My 11 year old loves that song, and pointed out to me on Gideon's last day that Gideon was like that little stream.  He gave us time.  He gave us tender hearts.  He gave us reminders about what matters most to us.  His life was small but gave so much, like the little stream.  And so we sang it at Gideon's funeral, even though funerals are usually pretty sad, and it's a happy little song, and a happy little tune.  And we sang it at his grave last weekend when we took flowers.  And it makes me cry.  I feel so happy, and I feel such longing, and I hope his life keeps giving and giving to those who love him, and I miss him, and I'm so glad that my 11 year old thought of that, and I feel a sense of pride that he found deeper meaning in a song that people often sing without even thinking of what it might mean.  I hope one day to be able to sing it without it tugging at my heart strings and bringing tears to my eyes, but now is not that day.

One thing that has not been so up and down and back and forth has come because of the words of God.  I hold dearer the scriptures I study, and I find so much comfort in their words.  I appreciate and enjoy reading my scriptures now more than ever.  Here few favorites I have read over and over during this hard time: 

(New Testament) Phillipans 4:13 (of course--my favorite) "I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me."  I don't even have to read this one, I just keep reciting it to myself.

Obviously this has been a hard thing.  But we're not promised that we can do most things through Christ, or that we can do anything with our own strength.  That scripture promises we can do ALL things through Christ.  I have appreciated the strength of Christ bearing me up.  I can't tell you how many times people have told me "You are so strong.  I don't know how you are handling this.  I couldn't do it."  It's not me. That's how.

(Old Testament) Proverbs 3:5&6 "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths."

People have also remarked how strong my faith is.  That may be true, but it's something I have worked at for many years, and continue to work at.  Faith takes effort, takes some trust.  And I know some people think faith and trust in God are silly.  Well, it makes me happy to trust God, it helps me to feel purpose behind this tragedy, even if I don't understand it.  I truly believe this was part of God's plan for my family.  I don't think I'll know why in this life, but I fully intend to keep trusting God and hoping I can feel when he is trying to direct my paths.  And if people think it's silly that I'm trusting in God and it's helping me be happy, then I'm OK with that, but I sure don't think it's silly, and I'll take the happiness it brings me.

(Book of Mormon) Moroni 7:13  But behold, that which is of God inviteth and enticeth to do good continually; wherefore, every thing which inviteth and enticeth to do good, and to love God, and to serve him, is inspired of God.

Gideon inspires me to be better.  His life has been an invitation for me to grow closer to God, I want it, and I need it.  And I never doubted that he was from God--babies are a special gift from God, but reading that verse really rings truth to my soul.  Gideon is of God.  I want to be better, to do more with my life because I had him.  He was from God.

(Book of Mormon) Ether 12:4 "Wherefore, whoso believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh an anchor to the souls of men, making them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God."

Ether 12 is a favorite of mine from the Book of Mormon.  The prophet Mormon abridged the Book of Mormon (hence the name "Book of Mormon") from the records of other prophets.  His son Moroni finished the work, and after abridging a section where a people from generation to generation grew more and more wicked and turned away from God, Moroni inserts a little treasure commentary here.  He talks of faith and hope and trust in God and all the good things that the people were missing out on.  I love the little tidbit about how the hope comes from faith and makes an anchor to the souls of men.  I feel like I have needed an anchor.  My hope for a better world, for a resurrection where Gideon's body will be whole, for Jesus being the king, that hope has been an anchor for me during this time of "happy, sad, up, down, here and there."  I am so grateful for that anchor, for my hope and faith.  I treasure it more, and I need it more.

So...if you have wondered how I am surviving the tossing and turning and swirling vortex of emotion, it's because I have an anchor stronger than Earth.  I have had terribly sad moments.  But the sadness is also sometimes overpowered by overwhelming gratitude, faith, and the feeling of connecting with people who love me.  The opposition, the back and forth is often overwhelming.  Having an anchor at the very least makes it less treacherous.  "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."