Inspiration

Today's Facebook post is funny, but it's sad how true it is:

If you give a mom a yummy recipe, she will want to make a tasty dinner.
To make the tasty dinner, she will need to clean the kitchen.
To clean the kitchen, she must do the dishes.
To do the dishes she needs to empty the garbage.
While taking out the garbage, she will spill and decide to change her clothes.
When she goes to change her clothes, she will notice the messy living room.
As she picks up a few things, she is reminded she needs to change.
As she goes to change, she remembers she needs to do laundry.
As she does laundry, she sees her laptop and remembers she needs to do some homework.
Mid homework, she remembers she never at soup in the slow cooker.
She will head back to the kitchen, only to be reminded how terrible the house looks after a week of not feeling well.
Then, she will get on Facebook and try to forget it all.
But then, she sees another slow cooker soup recipe.....

This is good for a laugh now, but at the time I was so frustrated and discouraged. I text Jason that I wanted to drop out of school. He pointed out I have "A"s and am doing fine, but supported me if I needed to drop out because of emotional stress. He said he loved me, and sent a flirty text. I hate to admit I was not appreciative of his efforts and his support. I finally talked myself in to staying in school, but I am still wondering WHY.....

I didn't get any homework or studying done, but my kitchen looks great! After dinner (we had sandwiches.... never did get soup going...) I saw something that got me really upset. I am part of an LDS Single Moms group, and although I am not singly anymore, I stayed in the group because I have a lot of friends in there, and sometimes I get great advice, or like to try and offer support to the other women. There are quite a few women in the group that are pregnant. Anyway, today I got on to see a post that did not help my mood.....

This woman posted something about being pregnant. There are a few pregnant women in the group, but most of them were married when they conceived, and the rest I just try not to judge, I am far from perfect myself. She has posted a few times now, about how excited she is to be having her boyfriend's baby, and what a miracle that baby is because she had to do IVF when she had been married, but this time she "only" had sex three times........ I'm going to back track a bit here.....

For 8 1/2 years (cumulatively), I cried and prayed for the opportunity to be a mother. I was not sure why I could not be granted such a request, when it was a righteous desire. The scriptures say that we should multiply and replenish, but I couldn't. The scriptures say that we need to ask, and if our desires are righteous we will be blessed. Yet this most worthy of causes, to be a mother, could not be fulfilled by any amount of praying, fasting, pondering, studying, or temple and church attendance. I magnified my calling, and I cried every one of those months that I did not get pregnant. Though my life is different now, I still remember the heartache, and there are scars in my heart.

I was MAD, and HURT by the way this woman just boasted about how she had broken commandments, and was now "blessed" for doing so. I struggled with my testimony during the divorce. I struggled to stay morally clean, and often I faltered. But I worked really hard to get to the temple, and Jason and I try to attend regularly. We consult with the Lord for our major decisions and pray for our kids daily. We read the scriptures fairly regularly. And yet, Heavenly Father, for whatever reasons, did not allow me to keep the baby we felt so strongly about having.

I know that Heavenly Father has a plan for each of us, we all have our own unique trials, and it is not fair to compare. But as I looked at her picture, and read her comments, and the praise so many women offered her for "being strong" the hurt surfaced, and as soon as I dropped the teenagers off for their activity, I started bawling. I don't understand. I haven't lost my faith, I know that there are reasons I cannot comprehend for things like this. Doesn't change the fact that it is a challenge.

I text my friend Emily, who said (basically) to go ahead and be mad today, then pray to be able to forgive tomorrow. What a wonderful idea. So I cried, and let the emotions out. I prayed through my tears, and then my amazing husband called me. Talk about inspiration.... as I explained my feelings (this blog barely scratches the surface) he said "I hadn't thought of it like that" and somehow, that made it easier to let go. It's NOT "like that" and I was letting my emotions control me.

Before I knew it, my husband had left work and come home to comfort me. How is that for a great man? He held me, and I found comfort and peace in his presence.

Of course, after all this, I had to get on Facebook again (yeah, I know.... I'm addicted...) and immediately saw a quote from Henry B. Eyring: "Logical thinking will not be enough to get answers to the questions that matter most in life. We need revelation from God." With that, I was able to let go of the hurt, and feel the love of my Savior and Heavenly Father. They do not want me to hurt, this is not personal, and somehow this will be for my own good.

Line Upon Line

If you've been a member of the "Mormon" or "LDS" church (properly known as Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) for more than a few years, chances are you've heard the phrase "line upon line, precept upon precept". If you've been a member more than 30 years, you probably know the song, too (of course I'm not that old....).

Sunday as we drove to the celebration of my niece's 18th birthday, I had a new understanding about this well-known scripture. Faith (5) was holding a bowl of fruit I was taking along, she had begged to hold it. I was concerned she would spill it, but she was pretty excited and I gave in. She opened the container and took a piece of watermelon. But she put the lid on like a pro and my fears of spilled fruit subsided. Before we got on the freeway, I watched in the rearview mirror as she tilted the bowl to herself, trying to get a piece in her mouth without using her fingers..... I watched half the bowl fall into her lap.

As a mom, I try to stay calm, but it's not my strong point. My first instinct was to yell at her, chastise her siblings for not noticing what she was doing and stopping it. But I stopped in my tracks, as a thought struck me, which I now realize could only be a prompting. Faith cried most of the drive to Tooele, and I normally would have lost my cool after a few minutes, but somehow I kept calm. As she cried, begging to change her clothes, I wanted to point out all the problems with this idea. How everybody would have to be even more late to the party, how disappointed her cousins would be that we were so late, I was getting anxious thinking about the domino effect it would have. I wanted to try and point it all out to her.

Faith is still just a baby. She has no comprehension of the anxiety she was giving me, or how her demands were unjustified. She didn't care that others would be sad or disappointed, she only knew her clothes were wet (barely!) and she wanted to put dry clothes on. (side note, I wish she cared about wet clothes when I tell her not to play in the water).

This thought has stuck with me for the last 3 days. We are all still learning, line upon line and precept on precept. Heavenly Father knows us better than we realize, and he knows what we can handle. This is not a new idea, I've known that my whole life. I have witnessed time and time again the hand of God in my life as He turns down my requests, only to provide something better later, and in better timing.

When I was going through infertility, if I heard stories of miscarriage I would say something along the lines of "Heavenly Father knows that the fertility struggle is hard enough on me. I couldn't handle a miscarriage." Infertility was my trial and I wasn't supposed to be faced with any other complications in pregnancy, let alone miscarriage. Now, here is my personal inspiration, and it may not be true for others. But I realized how true this statement was, at the time. I couldn't have handled a miscarriage in those years. 16 years after I struggled to conceive my first child, I have faced other trials, and been strengthened as I work through them. Because of the strength I have gained in trials, Heavenly Father trusted me to be a vessel to carry that perfect spirit, HIS child, that needed a body, and then would return to HIM. Line upon line, trial after trial, day by day, I gained the strength to be where I am, and to face the challenges that come in the future.

I still feel such a loss. I felt that spirit, that tiny baby starting to grow inside me. I don't know what will happen with that spirit in the life to come, but I have faith that Heavenly Father will make sure it works out for the best. That whether that baby is still "mine" or not, I will be happy. And because of that knowledge, I can be happy now, too.

Fighting the Guilt

Since last Sunday, I have spent most of the week in my room. One day Jason offered to take me out, and when I declined I don't think he knew what to say or do. I always want to go out. He's the homebody, never wants to go and I usually have to drag him out. I haven't kept up with much of anything. Haven't been cooking or cleaning, laundry is seriously behind. But Saturday my kids had soccer, so I had to get out. After the soccer games, they went with their dad so I had the afternoon free. I finally made it to the last part of the last day of DoTerra convention.

On the way there, I started crying, nervous about seeing my brother-in-law, sister-in-law and mother-in-law. There is no reason for the anxiety, but that's kind of the definition of anxiety. I haven't known Jason's family for very long, but they have been pretty supportive and shown nothing but kindness, patience, and love to me. Especially this past week.

Once anxiety sets in, negative thoughts tend to pour in. Bipolar disorder means I have VERY intense emotions, and when anxiety sets in, I tend to get hit hard with all the other fears. I cried most of the drive, thinking of all the things I did wrong that must have caused the miscarriage. It was because I lifted heavy bags of dog food. Or I carried my kids. Or I was not eating healthy enough, and my body was not in good shape. It was my fault, 150% because Jason's part was obviously successful. Even knowing how untrue this is, I had to fight the emotions away, and remind myself that I did a lot of those things with the other 4 pregnancies and did not miscarry. I sat in my car in the parking garage, and cried for a few minutes but managed to pull myself together.

I finally got myself going, registered, and to the last presentation. It was hard, but it was SO good for me. Christine hugged me and showed sincere excitement that I had made it. Leon smiled and asked how I was doing, telling me it was OK if I was not OK. Bonnie immediately hugged me, and I wondered why I had been so nervous. Bonnie and Leon invited me to a gathering of their DoTerra team, and Christine invited me to her house, but they all made it clear I didn't have to go, but they wanted me to. I told them I needed to go home, but I knew that if I did I wouldn't do what I needed to. Bonnie put her arm around me and said "then come. we want you to, and it will be fun".

I drove up to Farmington where they were meeting, and sat in my car trying to talk myself into socializing. Jason called just then, and I cried and told him of my guilty feelings. He told me what I already knew, but it was wonderful to have my loving husband remind me and reinforce the knowledge that I couldn't have stopped this miscarriage, and blaming was useless.

I ended up visiting with my friend Emily, who has managed to put up with my depression, when I was on the wrong medication and suicidal, my eating disorder, and all the ups and downs of my divorce. Always my friend and support. She suffered a terrible miscarriage experience and she was just the "medicine" I needed. We talked for about 6 hours, and I told Jason that she "helped fix me".

I never did make it to hang out with Bonnie and Leon and the group. But being invited, and knowing that I have so much love and support made a huge difference.

The Spiritual Aspect

When I first started going through divorce, before we had even separated, a friend of mine told me there would come a time when I would have to rely on divine intervention, and I would feel the hands of angels comforting me and carrying me through the worst of it. I think the same applies to my latest trial, and all struggles we are faced with in this life. There haven been miracles all around me, but I usually don't notice those tender mercies until I look back.

Yesterday was by far the worst day for me so far. I keep telling myself it's not so bad, I'm doing OK. Then something will remind me of the heartache. Like all the baby things we bought to tell the kids. The case of fortune cookies sitting in my bedroom. The wrapping paper we used for the baby items. Seeing another pregnant person, or a new baby. Even the period tracker app reminds me.

Then...... it happened. [Skip to the next paragraph if you want to avoid my TMI section]... Just after I left work. I could feel the symptoms, but I've had the physical pains and discomforts for a few days. Something struck me as especially bad, and although I had hoped to go to the DoTerra Convention with my family, I knew I had to go home. There I had the physical evidence of my miscarriage. I sat in the bathroom, crying that my baby was really gone, and I had to flush all the evidence of his or her life down the toilet. Once I regained my composure, I went to the kitchen to get some lunch. I knew I needed something to eat, I was getting ill. I again collapsed when I noticed I had missed a small speck of blood on the back of my hand. The dogs came running to me, licking me and climbing on me, trying to comfort me.

I sent a text to Jason telling him about it. Just after I sent it, I got a text from my friend Cameo: "It is times like these that I am so grateful for the atonement and what Christ did for us. The suffering that he did, because we couldn't do it all on our own. You are never alone. I love you so very much." I told her I had been praying to let go of the burden, and lay it on the Lord since it had already been suffered for. When I told her of her amazing timing, and said I was home alone crying and mourning, she said "I know you weren't alone. So many angels were there I'm sure." Then, the tears started coming again.

My sister reminded me of the atonement too, earlier this week she said "the atonement works for broken and breaking hearts." My sister has reminded me of this MANY times. Today, when I told her about the events yesterday, she said "just think how lucky you are- you are the mother of a perfect baby! You will be blessed with [him or her] in the next life, and in the meantime your family has another guardian angel!"

I know these things are true. I have to give my heart and mind time to let it all sink in. I can't get myself to do much..... I go through the motions, making dinner, doing dishes, trying to keep up with everything. But it's hard. I had that spirit growing inside my body, and now it is gone. I feel such an emptiness. Such a loss! I try to remember the "big picture" that I can't see, and I know it will one day make sense. Oh, how I miss that spirit, the feeling of life inside of my womb!

People keep asking if I am OK. Well, not really. But I will be, because of the atonement, my guardian angels, a wonderful husband and family, and my loving friends.

Numb

Today I have had a hard time. I went to work, but it felt different to be there with this new weight. Why does a miscarriage seem so difficult? It's not like I ever held the baby, or even knew the baby's gender. But it's so much more than that. That baby was a dream, and a symbol of so much for our family. I saw a baby, and had to look away instead of smile at him. I saw a pregnant woman and had the hardest time. When I folded the laundry that I left in the dryer on SATURDAY I kept thinking, "when I put this in the dryer, my baby was still alive."

All day this has been in the back of my mind. At the gas station, I stood by a pregnant woman and Carson said something about how the baby should still be there (patting my belly). This woman asked if I was pregnant, and I told her about the miscarriage this week. She apologized and said she understood, she had been there. That's a common response "I know how that is. I have been there." and it's comforting to know. But I still feel so alone.

Let me compare this to a completely different experience:

When I did IVF, my egg retrieval day was the worst experience of my life (up to that point anyway). The medication was supposed to just leave you relaxed, but still awake. The staff explained that most women don't remember a thing, but they are awake the whole time. I remember EVERY DETAIL. I was awake, but my body was paralyzed. I couldn't move, but I could hear and feel everything. I couldn't talk, and the best I could do to communicate the pain I was in was to occasionally flinch my toe or finger. Once, I got my leg to move and heard the Doctor say "give her a little bit more in the IV, she's moving." Unfortunately, that didn't change things and I could still feel everything but now I couldn't even move my toes or fingers. My body was just heavier.

After a while, I heard the doctor say "OH NO!" He was really panicked, and I could feel something dripping down me. One of the nurses said "that's a lot of blood. What happened?" He told the nurse to get the other doctor in the clinic. The other doctor stuck his head in and my doctor said "I nicked one of her nerves. I slipped on her blood! Help me clean it up?!" Through the rest of the process, I could hear the commentary about my "record blood loss" and "good thing she can't feel it!"

In the recovery room, 3 other women came in, had the procedure done, and left while I was still trying to come out of the anesthesia. I was throwing up (if you know me at all, this is REALLY rare). I couldn't walk. I had to take 3 days off work, and all I could do was sleep.

When I was on that table, I tried to "escape" the nightmare around me. I tried to get myself to stop feeling everything. I finally got to a point where I felt like I was floating above it all. No near-death experience or anything, I wasn't actually floating, but I guess it was my body's way of escaping this terrible experience.

This has been me today. I have been trying to "escape", I felt like this can't be real. Jason pointed out it is the "numb" stage. I have been through the grief process before, I am familiar with mourning. I could give a long list of loved ones I have lost. I know it passes. I know how to get through. I know that Heavenly Father is watching over me, and I know I am not alone. I know the stages. But today, I just want to escape it all. Pretend I was never pregnant so I don't have to miss the baby I never knew, and I don't have to be part of a circle of women that have suffered miscarriage. I want to "float" above it all.

Instead, I write about it, shed a few more tears, and pray I will sleep without any cramping or back pain, so I can forget for just a little while.

Strength in Heart Break

When I blog, I never know how it's going to turn out. So forgive me if this one doesn't make much sense, as I'm rather emotional today.

A short history:

The day Jason proposed, I had a strong feeling that we needed to have a child together. I pushed it aside, because 1) I didn't even know if we were going to get married. 2) there are already 10 kids and 3) I have struggled with infertility before and the last thing I wanted to do was face that storm again. Without a lot of details, 2 of my pregnancies were thanks to the miracle of IVF (in-vitro fertilization). The other two were miracles, but took about 2 years to conceive... so in 13 years with my ex-husband, and only a few months of birth control, I conceived naturally twice. I was blessed with 5 healthy babies, and 4 picture-perfect pregnancies.

Later I would find out that Jason had the same feelings, but we both thought it was CRAZY to consider, since we already had 10 kids to worry about.

A few months after we got married, we could not ignore the feelings anymore. We decided to pray about it, and make sure we were doing this for the right reasons. I was afraid to try again, because infertility was a real trial of my faith and I didn't know how I would handle it if we didn't conceive. In April, we decided I should have my IUD removed and we would leave it in God's hands.

Every month (yes, I know it's only been 5 months) I would get anxious, waiting to see if we had conceived. On August 22, I was trying to talk myself out of taking a pregnancy test. I know myself, I have been on this road before, and I was afraid it would be negative, and yet worried about a positive. Jason said "just take it" with a smile. I took the test as he was leaving for work, the timing sucked because we couldn't talk much, but we were both thrilled with the positive! It only took a few months, and Heavenly Father had blessed us with this miracle.

We both added apps on our phones to keep track of the baby's progress. We made comments quietly to each other, loving the fact that we had this special secret. I spent $120 on custom fortune cookies with the announcement inside, for our family and friends. We went to Dollar Tree and bought 9 "baby" items, wrapped them individually to tell our kids (the 10th gift was a T-shirt for Faith that says "I'm the Big SISTER!"). On Thursday September 3, I shipped 3 packages overnight, each one with fortune cookies. One to Jason's brother (and family) in Alaska, one to his brother (and family) in Maryland, and one to his Dad (and stepmom) in Alabama. Friday, the messages were popping up with excitement for our news. We asked them to keep it quiet a few more days.

Friday night we used my parent's anniversary as an excuse to take them out to dinner. We placed the fortune cookies on the table when my parents got up to fill their plates at the buffet. I took video of their reaction, and my dad didn't show much emotion but asked several times when he could brag on Facebook.

Saturday I anxiously waited for Jason to get home. We were SO excited to tell the kids. We got all the gifts out, and told the kids they would have to share all of them. The reactions were better than we had hoped. I was worried the kids would not be too thrilled, but they all seemed excited.

On Sunday morning, we attended my niece's baby blessing and my nephew's confirmation. Nathanael let it slip in front of my brother's wife that we were expecting. By now, the only ones that hadn't heard were my oldest brother and his wife. I didn't want to spoil their big day so I asked everyone to keep it quiet for a little longer. But I couldn't shake this feeling that I wasn't pregnant. I kept telling myself we KNEW that I was, and tried to brush away the nagging feelings.

That evening, we had planned a BBQ with Jason's brother and his mom. We had the salad ready, the fortune cookies packed. When we got home from church, Jason was out doing fast offerings when I found out why I had that feeling. I called him, but his phone was still on silent from church. I ran next door (seriously, it's such a blessing having my parents there!!!) my mom immediately knew something was wrong. I tried to hold back the tears as I said "I'm bleeding". My dad drove around, found Jason on the fast offering route and told him I needed him. When I saw Jason, I couldn't hold back the tears.

We spent a few hours in the ER, running tests, trying to hold onto hope and ignore the feelings that something was wrong. When we finally got the ultrasound done, we saw our baby's heartbeat and felt such peace. The baby was alive! We were so relieved. Then the doctor came in, and told us the baby's heartbeat was so slow that he felt we were headed towards miscarriage. There is nothing to be done. He told us to go home, told me to take it easy and follow-up with my doctor in a couple of days.

We came home and told the kids, I was amazed at the love and support offered. It was heartbreaking when Faith asked if she could still wear the t-shirt. Nathanael cried and said he really wanted a new brother or sister. The teenage girls all hugged me and cried with me. Less than 24 hours after we told them about the baby, the baby was slowly dying inside me.

Because of the physical pain, I knew the baby would not make it. I still held on to a tiny shimmer of hope. Faith was my 3% chance of conception. I have seen miracles time and time again. Maybe we would be lucky.

Today, after another several hours in the doctor's office, we confirmed that I am miscarrying our baby. I don't want to take the pain pills, I want to FEEL everything as my baby leaves. I sit here crying and mourning with my husband and best friend Jason.

I know I will be OK. I know without a shadow of a doubt that Heavenly Father has been with us every step of this heartbreaking weekend. I feel so blessed to have a husband that will help me through this, and take care of me and my kids. I am grateful to a loving family that has offered help and love. I am in awe of the strength I find in my children, all 10 of them.

I don't know what the future holds. I don't have all the answers. But I know that trials make us stronger. I know that my kids (the ones I birthed and the ones I didn't) will help me, and we will all become closer through this.

A Day in the Life of Depression

My alarm wakes me at 4am most days.
Today it goes off at 5:00 and I am relieved to be done with the battle.
The battle to find sleep when my mind and body cannot seem to shut down long enough to allow rest.
I slowly get ready, dreading the day. I try to stay positive, feeling the darkness gather as I face another "low".
Even well medicated, the depression can come on strong. I have been feeling it for a couple days, and have been trying to avoid it, knowing that is the wrong way to handle it, but not feeling strong enough to fight it off.
By 5:30 I am dressed. I wake my husband for prayer, but it feels wrong. Insincere. I am just going through the motions.
In the kitchen, I stare emotionless at the pantry, the fridge, the cupboards. I hear the words in my mind "you don't need to eat. You are fat, and you don't deserve the food anyway."
I know it's untrue. I know it's the depression talking. But I listen.
Driving to work, I try to fight the voice. "I am worth it, I deserve to eat, I need to eat to take care of my kids. I have to take care of me."
Today, I lose the battle and leave my protein bar in the car so I'm not tempted.
After a few hours at work, my head is hurting and my heart is racing. I am still fighting an internal battle that nobody around me knows anything about, and I tell myself they don't care anyway.
I fight back tears, and leave my office long enough to calm myself. For a short time, I fight back the blackness and I know I should eat something. I buy a small vegetable tray from the break room. As I eat, the battle continues.
"you don't deserve that food"
"you have to eat to take care of your kids"
"you are fat and the quickest way to lose that weight is to stop eating."
"the food is necessary. I just have to eat better"
"you should spend your money on something more worthwhile. That was stupid to leave the protein bar in your car. You should have just gone to get it instead of wasting money on crappy vending machine food."
I make idle conversation with coworkers in the break area. Fake a smile, but I feel hollow inside.
I return to my office and go through the motions. I complete every necessary task, but my heart is still racing and I still wonder why I am even alive. "you are a waste of a human" the voice says. I fight it "my kids love me and need me!"
I go home, my baby girl runs to my arms, shouting excitedly "MOMMY! Mommy!" and embraces me. THIS is why I live. Take that, voice!
We go to the house, and I make her lunch. But I don't eat anything, I had those vegetables not too long ago I will be OK and I don't deserve anything more anyway.
I take apart the dryer, it's been making weird noises for a while. I find the rocks, sucker stick, glow stick, pennies, and debris, the reassemble the dryer. I feel good, I'm not a total waste. I can do things! I am strong, and the voice has subsided.
I go to my room to practice the piano, but I am discouraged at the difficulty of the song my instructor has assigned. "you'll never get this. Just give up."
I call out to my precious baby girl, to remind me why I live. She comes to my room, "What mommy?!" Together we cuddle, she says she loves me. I smile, a real smile. I love her SO much.
I fall asleep until the kids come home from school. I feel slightly better, but that damn voice is back. "You are so lazy! Your kids deserve better. You never do anything. You didn't deserve that nap."
Everywhere I look, I see signs of my failures:
The torn book, I should teach my kids to take better care of things.
The game that got left out, I should have played that with them and made sure it got cleaned up.
The unfolded laundry, I should be better at keeping up with that.
The chewed up toilet paper strewn about, I need to be better at keeping the house clean and training the dogs.
Every single mess reminds my of my inadequacy. My failure, my laziness, and each one adds to the darkness in my mind, encouraging the voice of depression.
But it's Wednesday, which means we have all 10 kids. Jason will leave work early and help me. His hugs make things better.
But he has to take the kids to track, pick up their friend, take one to soccer. "you don't deserve his love and help anyway."
I make the kids do some cleaning up. They all whine and complain, fighting with each other, arguing with me. The darkness grows, and I feel like I am falling in a bottomless pit with nothing to hold on to. "You are such a horrible mother. Good moms don't yell at their kids and their kids don't fight and destroy things like yours do."
As my son helps me make dinner, I feel the darkness dissipate slightly. But it's still there, and I can't get it to stay away.
I get the kids fed, eat a few bits to keep my hunger at bay. Tell the kids to turn on Netflix and head to my room, leaving the food out for the rest of the family when they come.
Jason and kids arrive, and I stay hidden. "You are unworthy of the things happening out there."
He comes in to tell me that he has to run to work again. I drop the older kids off at the church for their activity, smiling and conversing but still hollow and alone.
I KNOW that I'm not alone, and I KNOW the depression is taking over. I KNOW the voices are untrue, and that I am a good person. But it doesn't change anything. I reach out to a group on Facebook and get the typical responses "you have to take care of yourself!" "you just have to....." Things I already know, but can't seem to get them through the darkness to light my life back up.
I tell the young ones to get into their pajamas, brush their teeth.
We read scriptures, we pray. But it's still just the motions. No feeling.
I ask one of the kids to read a story to the others so I can practice the song I feel discouraged about. Every few seconds I have to stop and tell the kids to get back in bed.
Before I know it, the older kids are home and Jason is stuck at work so I take them to their mom's house. Their chatter and silliness make me smile. Reminding me of simpler times. But still, the darkness is there and I remember it always has been, since I was their age......
On the drive back, I can't stand the thought of being home and seeing all my failures.
I drive slowly. Stop to buy a diet coke, then beat myself up for spending the money.
"you dummy. you need to get home."
I stop at the church parking lot to think. To pray, and try to chase away the darkness with the light my faith has always provided.
Jason calls, asking if I am almost home. I start the car and go home.
He holds me, I am unable to communicate all that has happened and all the feelings involved. I try, and he does his best to understand. Finally I fall asleep in his arms.....

The Perfect Wedding

My wedding day was beautiful. It was perfect in it's imperfections. I got to be sealed to an incredible man for ETERNITY. The temple was peaceful and spiritual. I know we are meant to be together. All our trials of the past are worth it, because of what we have learned and what has brought us to this point.

I know that loved ones from BOTH sides of the veil were in attendance. As I knelt across the altar, and looked in his eyes, I once again knew that I was right where I should be. Jason is an answer to prayers, my own prayers, and those of my loved ones that have wanted me to find happiness. Our crazy, chaotic life is perfect, in all the imperfections.

After the sealing, we went out for pictures with family and friends. The photographer wasn't there. She went to the wrong temple even though Jason had confirmed with her the day before. I forgot to leave my car key with my niece so she could bring my kids to the temple. When my kids and the photographer showed up, everybody else was so cold they didn't want to do many pictures. But it was perfect.

The luncheon was perfect, too. I forgot the video with our love story that we had wanted to play. I requested the DVD player and big TV be set up in our banquet room, and had nothing to play on it.

I got to the church for our reception at about 4:00. The ladies in the ward were wonderful helping to get everything set up, and help me provide the food. I realized I had forgotten to pick up the picture we had printed and matted for people to sign (instead of a guest book). I didn't plan logistics very well, and everybody was asking questions about who was driving whom and what time, and what jobs each person had for the reception. Yeah, it was pure chaos. Perfect chaos.

About 30 minutes before the reception was to begin, the photographer showed up. The girls were still getting their hair done. The photographer didn't get any of the shots I wanted and wouldn't listen to my requests. She took pictures without Karleah in them. The flowers didn't show up. Turned out the flower shop wrote "Saturday the 14th" on their paperwork instead of "Wednesday the 14th" so they didn't even have my flowers. They offered to bring some anyway, and dropped them off without saying a word. They were bright yellow and orange. My colors were turquoise, black, and white. They looked horrible. But it was still perfect.



I danced with my dad, to "I Loved Her First" and Jason danced with his mom to "I Won't Take Less Than Your Love" then Jason and I danced to "All of Me". We forgot most of the dance steps my niece and her boyfriend taught us. But it was perfect. We stared into each others eyes and mouthed the words "love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections." Everything was perfect in its imperfections.We danced and visited with friends and loved ones. The wonderful women of our ward helped with clean up when we left.

There was some confusion when we booked our cruise, and we didn't know where to go for our shuttle services. We didn't get to sit together on our flight. The person that was going to watch the puppy backed out at the last minute. But it was perfect. Perfect because I am sealed to my wonderful husband, and I get to be treated wonderfully.

My kids have more people in their lives to learn from, that love them. I have 5 more kids to love and spend time with. It's chaos, it's crowded, it's hard, and it's perfect.