I was asked to speak on Mother's Day. And I type faster than I write, so here are my thoughts....
Happy Mother's Day!
I'm sure one reason I was asked to speak on Mother's Day is because I have a lot of kids, and the bishopric thinks I know what I'm doing by now. But the more kids I have, the more I realize how little I DO know. But since we do have so many kids, I hope an introduction takes up most of my time:
In 1998, shortly after graduating high school, I was introduced to someone I would later marry. I had always wanted a big family, so I wanted a honeymoon baby. I got married just before turning 19, and assumed it would be easy to have children. It took 2 years for me to finally get a positive pregnancy test. Karleah was born in October of 2001. Before her first birthday, I felt strongly that it was time to have another baby. I assumed it would be easier the 2nd time because my body had "figured it out". After about 18 months, we went to a fertility specialist, and after a round of in-vitro fertilization, I was blessed with Nathanael in December 2005. After he turned 1, I started another IVF cycle, and I was blessed with twins. Carson and Vanessa were born in March of 2008. 4 kids didn't feel like the big family I dreamt of, so I was a little saddened at the thought of being "done".
15 months later, I had 2 loved ones pass away. As I faced one of the darkest times in my life, and questioned worthiness to be a mother. The dark depression I faced had me convinced that Heavenly Father had only sent me children because I forced it when I did IVF. To help me through, Heavenly Father sent me a surprise, Faith was born in May of 2010.
Shortly after Faith turned 2, I got divorced. For 2 1/2 years I was a single mom, and it was by far one of the hardest things in my life. I believe I only made it through because I relied so much on the people I admire most, including my brothers and dad who held the priesthood. I stayed focused on scriptures and daily prayer. Thanks to personal revelation and many blessings, I knew I was meant to remarry. I started dating, (which, by the way, is not as fun in your 30s as in your teens.)
In August of of 2014, I met Jason through an online dating app. He proposed exactly 2 months later on October 8, in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple. In January of 2015 we were sealed in the same room he proposed to me. I became a stepmom to 5, Lucas, Lilly, Jeanine, Anthonio, (more twins!) and Caranina.
Jason and I felt strongly that there were more spirits waiting to join our family. We tried to ignore and deny the impressions, but that only went so far..... We got pregnant right away, but miscarried the baby we call Lydia on Labor Day weekend of 2015. By Thanksgiving, we were pregnant again and Travis (TJ) joined our family in July of 2016. I told everyone I was done having kids, hoping Heavenly Father would hear me and stop nudging us to have another baby, again proving that I know less with each child. Emily was born in June of 2018.
If you've been keeping track, that's 12 kids and one angel baby. 21, 19, 17, 17, 17, 16, 13, 11, 11, 9, 2, and 10 months.
When I was young and my mom got depressed on Mother's Day, I never understood. I couldn't wait to be a mom and have all the love and praise I thought moms had. I've realized more and more that most women tend to take something as meaningful and thoughtful as mothers day, and turn it into a guilt trip. We tend to focus on our friends' talents and strengths, and downplay our own. We think we are being humble when we minimize our own abilities.
Having dealt with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember, I can tell you I'm a pro at minimizing my strengths when compared to those around me. When our house flooded last weekend, I was beating myself up for the messes I hadn't kept up with, making the process of cleaning up so much harder. Another example from this week: Tuesday Morning I got a call from one of the kids' schools, telling me about some problems in class that day I broke down in tears of anger, hurt, frustration, and discouragement. Blaming myself for my child's problems. That afternoon, I received a message from another school, about another kid. I called Jason in tears. "How can I give a talk on Mother's Day when I am so clearly failing as a mother?" He said "you are the mother your children need" (before you give him credit for a great line, he was quoting a book I just finished.)
I have often questioned why Heavenly Father sent me children with their own emotional and social difficulties. Why he thought I was the right choice. I need constant reminders that HE knows why.
Time and time again, other moms in my life have helped me. I will list a few:
My best friend/visiting teacher Emily. She would drop everything to come help me, like the time my daughter needed stitches and my boys were in the bath, when I was going through a difficult time of depression and she checked on me daily, and when I separated from my now ex-husband and she was the only one to know the details and support me through it all.
My sister Angie who called me daily as I adjusted to being a single mom. Reminding me when I was overwhelmed, to "Let go and let God"
My sister-in-law Zoe who continued to show me love when I divorced her husband's brother.
My sisters-in-law Bonnie and Pam who have accepted me and loved me when I joined their family 20 years after they did.
My sister-in-law Chrystal, who has helped me adjust to being a step mom and who has relied on me as much as I've relied on her when emotional battles are just too much to handle alone.
My sister-in-law Megan who, after a difficult break up, told me I would find a man that would love me, and when she hugged me in the sealing room, whispered "I told you you'd find him!" and made me sob loudly.
My sister-in-law Julie, who died almost 10 years ago. She used to remind me that we are not meant to face our trials alone. She learned time and time again that she needed to rely on Heavenly Father, the atonement of our Savior, and the people around her. She taught me that asking for help in time of need is not a weakness, and that praying for strength is admirable.
I can testify that every mother is important, whether you have married into motherhood, given birth, adopted, or even if you're not called a mother of any sort but have loved children as an aunt, cousin, teacher, or neighbor, we all have a role. Even when we feel we are failing, we can remember these words: You were never meant to do it alone.
Sunday, May 12, 2019
Monday, March 11, 2019
Emily Rose
As I looked through old blog posts, I realized I never made a post about the birth of my sweet Emily Rose! So here we are, 8 1/2 months late.
Thursday, June 28th 2018. I was at work, and I remember thinking I was as miserable and uncomfortable as I had ever been in a pregnancy. My boss and a couple coworkers commented about how I looked like I was "done" or "ready".
When I got home, I just laid down. I couldn't eat, or sleep, or do anything but sit around. The kids enjoyed the freedom to eat and do what they wanted. I think I knew labor was beginning, but everything seemed so different than my previous experiences, and I did not want to get my hopes up too soon. I had an appointment the next day anyway, I just tried to rest.
I ordered Papa John's pizza for dinner, it sounded good until it arrived and then I didn't want it. I had barely eaten all day, but I wasn't hungry. Just miserable. I finally started timing contractions, and sent Jason a screen shot of the app I was using to track them. He asked if he should come home, and I told him to finish up. No rush.
I got the kids ready for bed, and we put on a movie. When Jason came home we told the kids we were going to the hospital and would see baby Emily soon.
Labor was slow and miserable. Again, I kept thinking that none of my previous experiences were like this at all. The nurses implied they might send me home if things didn't start picking up. I was angry, and discouraged. I thought maybe I should have waited at home longer or timed the contractions more consistently. After several hours, I was starting to progress so they asked if I wanted an epidural. I had really wanted to try for another unmedicated birth, and I wanted to say "no" but I had been miserable so long, and I just wanted rest.
When it came time for Emily to be born, my doctor was unavailable. The doctor on-call was the same doctor that had delivered Karleah! It was really interesting (I want to say fun, but let's be honest, labor is NOT fun).
As Emily started her entrance to the world, one of the nurses said "oh, she has a necklace!" it took a while to register, but I looked at Jason and Dr Hutchison and saw their focus. I knew that the umbilical cord was around her neck. When the nurses told me to try and relax, I flashed back to Nathanael's birth (my unmedicated experience.) I remembered how those nurses had told me not to push, and wait for the doctor, even though it had been less than an hour since they suggested maybe I wasn't really in labor.... I could NOT stop pushing, no matter what they said. Nathanael was born before I had been admitted, and before the room was prepped. The doctor literally walked in at the last second. With that memory, I knew why I had felt the need for an epidural. I know I would have continued pushing and she could have been seriously hurt with that cord wrapped tightly around her neck.
As I waited for Dr Hutchison to ease the cord from around her neck, I heard Jason and the nurses talk about my beautiful girl. I couldn't see her, and I was so anxious. I was feeling a little upset that I couldn't see her. When I tried to look, all I saw were her arms flailing around between my legs. (it's funny now... but not then) When my sweet Emily Rose was finally out, she didn't want to cry and take that big, deep breath they want to hear from newborns. This is mainly due to my bipolar medications. (I had the same experience when TJ was born, but my dose had doubled since then so I was a lot more nervous this time around.)
She never did take a deep breath, or scream out like we wanted, and I wanted to cry because I wanted to hold her so bad. I think I've made up for that now, because I hold that little angel every chance I get.
She is perfect and healthy and happy. She's fun and has such a sweet personality and spirit. Her single dimple on the right cheek gives me such a thrill. She is definitely a blessing to all that know her.
Emily Rose #emilyrose was born on June 29th at 4:24am weighing in at 8 pounds 2 ounces.
Thursday, June 28th 2018. I was at work, and I remember thinking I was as miserable and uncomfortable as I had ever been in a pregnancy. My boss and a couple coworkers commented about how I looked like I was "done" or "ready".
When I got home, I just laid down. I couldn't eat, or sleep, or do anything but sit around. The kids enjoyed the freedom to eat and do what they wanted. I think I knew labor was beginning, but everything seemed so different than my previous experiences, and I did not want to get my hopes up too soon. I had an appointment the next day anyway, I just tried to rest.
I ordered Papa John's pizza for dinner, it sounded good until it arrived and then I didn't want it. I had barely eaten all day, but I wasn't hungry. Just miserable. I finally started timing contractions, and sent Jason a screen shot of the app I was using to track them. He asked if he should come home, and I told him to finish up. No rush.
I got the kids ready for bed, and we put on a movie. When Jason came home we told the kids we were going to the hospital and would see baby Emily soon.
Labor was slow and miserable. Again, I kept thinking that none of my previous experiences were like this at all. The nurses implied they might send me home if things didn't start picking up. I was angry, and discouraged. I thought maybe I should have waited at home longer or timed the contractions more consistently. After several hours, I was starting to progress so they asked if I wanted an epidural. I had really wanted to try for another unmedicated birth, and I wanted to say "no" but I had been miserable so long, and I just wanted rest.
When it came time for Emily to be born, my doctor was unavailable. The doctor on-call was the same doctor that had delivered Karleah! It was really interesting (I want to say fun, but let's be honest, labor is NOT fun).
As Emily started her entrance to the world, one of the nurses said "oh, she has a necklace!" it took a while to register, but I looked at Jason and Dr Hutchison and saw their focus. I knew that the umbilical cord was around her neck. When the nurses told me to try and relax, I flashed back to Nathanael's birth (my unmedicated experience.) I remembered how those nurses had told me not to push, and wait for the doctor, even though it had been less than an hour since they suggested maybe I wasn't really in labor.... I could NOT stop pushing, no matter what they said. Nathanael was born before I had been admitted, and before the room was prepped. The doctor literally walked in at the last second. With that memory, I knew why I had felt the need for an epidural. I know I would have continued pushing and she could have been seriously hurt with that cord wrapped tightly around her neck.
As I waited for Dr Hutchison to ease the cord from around her neck, I heard Jason and the nurses talk about my beautiful girl. I couldn't see her, and I was so anxious. I was feeling a little upset that I couldn't see her. When I tried to look, all I saw were her arms flailing around between my legs. (it's funny now... but not then) When my sweet Emily Rose was finally out, she didn't want to cry and take that big, deep breath they want to hear from newborns. This is mainly due to my bipolar medications. (I had the same experience when TJ was born, but my dose had doubled since then so I was a lot more nervous this time around.)
She never did take a deep breath, or scream out like we wanted, and I wanted to cry because I wanted to hold her so bad. I think I've made up for that now, because I hold that little angel every chance I get.
She is perfect and healthy and happy. She's fun and has such a sweet personality and spirit. Her single dimple on the right cheek gives me such a thrill. She is definitely a blessing to all that know her.
Emily Rose #emilyrose was born on June 29th at 4:24am weighing in at 8 pounds 2 ounces.
Thursday, February 28, 2019
Making A Difference
When I was a teenager, my dad was a Bishop for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. During that time, people from our ward (congregation) were always telling me how lucky I was to have him as my dad. Or how much they loved my dad, and how he had helped them with something in their life. I was already a daddy's girl, so I just nodded in agreement. I already knew that! I knew he was making a difference for so many people. Even now, over 20 years later, I occasionally hear from someone how much he helped, or how he was their favorite bishop, or how they love my Daddy.
On another note, I have always been a pretty shy/reserved person. It has taken a lot of work for me to even smile at strangers, or say "hi" if I see someone I know. So, I have always kind of been the person people forget about, or don't think to invite. Not to be dramatic, but it's true. I've seen it so many times throughout my life. Maybe it's more than just my quietness that makes me forgettable. I often feel like it's because I'm unlikeable.
Let me tie these two things together...…
I remember one night in particular, when I found out about a get-together after it had ended. People I thought were good friends had left me out, and I was very disheartened. I cried to my parents about how I wanted to make a difference, and how I wanted to be seen, remembered, included. My dad tried to show sympathy. He told me that he felt that way, too. He told me everybody feels forgotten at times. Through my sobs, I said something about how he had to know that he was helping people, because even I heard about it all the time. Years later, I'm realizing that even the outgoing, loveable people sometimes feel forgotten.
In my attempts to "make a difference" I have shared a lot about my struggles with depression, anxiety, a bipolar diagnosis, and now questioning that diagnosis. I have had 3 different blogs (1 private, one pre divorce, one post-divorce) to share what I experience daily, the ups and downs, and the beauty of one thing that has always been life-saving for me, my children.
There have been so many positives; people thanking me for helping them understand a loved one with similar struggles, or help them put words to their own feelings. When I did a presentation in college, I was approached by many students and even the teacher with stories of their own, or statements of gratitude.
On the flip side, I have been accused of selfishness, lying, exaggerating, or attention-seeking. I've been told it's "not that bad" or to "suck it up" "think happy" or "get over it". Some say I am sharing too much. I have had some unfriend or unfollow me on social media because they can't stand it. A couple have even screamed at me, or completely cut me out of their life. One person said I was depressing and it was too dark.
After years of blogging and sharing, I feel lost. Like I've already shared my story, and nobody wants or needs to hear it anymore. Like the stories of other friends are more important now. It's like my time in the proverbial spotlight has come and gone, so I should get used to the dark. You may think this is just the voice of depression. Maybe you'd be right, but now that my blogs no longer have views or comments, I can't see any other reason. I have been trying for months to understand this feeling, to put my racing thoughts into something others can understand. So, there it is.... my most recent pains and feelings.
On another note, I have always been a pretty shy/reserved person. It has taken a lot of work for me to even smile at strangers, or say "hi" if I see someone I know. So, I have always kind of been the person people forget about, or don't think to invite. Not to be dramatic, but it's true. I've seen it so many times throughout my life. Maybe it's more than just my quietness that makes me forgettable. I often feel like it's because I'm unlikeable.
Let me tie these two things together...…
I remember one night in particular, when I found out about a get-together after it had ended. People I thought were good friends had left me out, and I was very disheartened. I cried to my parents about how I wanted to make a difference, and how I wanted to be seen, remembered, included. My dad tried to show sympathy. He told me that he felt that way, too. He told me everybody feels forgotten at times. Through my sobs, I said something about how he had to know that he was helping people, because even I heard about it all the time. Years later, I'm realizing that even the outgoing, loveable people sometimes feel forgotten.
In my attempts to "make a difference" I have shared a lot about my struggles with depression, anxiety, a bipolar diagnosis, and now questioning that diagnosis. I have had 3 different blogs (1 private, one pre divorce, one post-divorce) to share what I experience daily, the ups and downs, and the beauty of one thing that has always been life-saving for me, my children.
There have been so many positives; people thanking me for helping them understand a loved one with similar struggles, or help them put words to their own feelings. When I did a presentation in college, I was approached by many students and even the teacher with stories of their own, or statements of gratitude.
On the flip side, I have been accused of selfishness, lying, exaggerating, or attention-seeking. I've been told it's "not that bad" or to "suck it up" "think happy" or "get over it". Some say I am sharing too much. I have had some unfriend or unfollow me on social media because they can't stand it. A couple have even screamed at me, or completely cut me out of their life. One person said I was depressing and it was too dark.
After years of blogging and sharing, I feel lost. Like I've already shared my story, and nobody wants or needs to hear it anymore. Like the stories of other friends are more important now. It's like my time in the proverbial spotlight has come and gone, so I should get used to the dark. You may think this is just the voice of depression. Maybe you'd be right, but now that my blogs no longer have views or comments, I can't see any other reason. I have been trying for months to understand this feeling, to put my racing thoughts into something others can understand. So, there it is.... my most recent pains and feelings.
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Here we go again......
I've always prided myself on my ability to write. I could put words together on paper and it always came out so neatly. I could express things better that way. This is not going to be like that. Here is a brain dump, all the things running through my mind..... well, what I dare to share anyway.
When I was diagnosed bipolar 2, I had 4 young children. I was suicidal, and had been trying to find the right combination of medications to help me for at least 6 months. Once I got on the right medication, I found out I was pregnant. By the time that baby turned 2, I was separated.
Yesterday at an intense appointment, the psychiatrist I saw suggest maybe Bipolar 2 was the wrong diagnosis, or that possible things have just changed enough in my circumstances and my body (being pregnant a few times since that diagnosis....) that I no longer have the same "issues" for lack of a better term.....
Tonight, I try to express some of the things I am afraid of as I face starting a new medication, a whole new diagnosis (again) and months of work to get the right "cocktail" together, that will probably only last a few years before I get to start this all over again.
Mental illness is not like other illnesses. There isn't a way to test and decide which medication will work best, or what the exact type of illness is. The easiest comparison is cancer..... there are so many different kinds of cancer, and every type can be diagnosed, and a very specific plan put in place to treat it, from surgeries to medication, chemotherapy, radiation and more. Another example is an infection. When I had a kidney infection, a sample was sent to a lab, where tests were done to show which antibiotics would kill the infection. It took 5 different medications and several hospital visits, but it was "easy". This is different. So, so, so different. I wouldn't say "worse", but it is definitely full of struggles.
I am so scared to start down this path. I know I have to, because for over 2 years I have struggled. I am exhausted from trying to push away the dark. I am frustrated at the pain of constant racing, negative, dark, frightening thoughts. I am discouraged at the way I have been towards those who matter most to me. But I am terrified of what lies ahead. If I get suicidal again, or start crying without warning, or just shut down.... will I be home with just the babies? Will I be driving to pick up the kids from school? Will I be at work? In a public place? If I reach out to someone, will they be available? Will I lose friends again? Can I handle that again?
I am faced with an intense, burning hatred and jealousy for those "simple" illnesses that are quick to diagnose and treat. I am angry that when others struggle, they are given love and support and help when they need it. Appendicitis? We'll fix that. Fever? We have a medicine for that. Gall bladder? Back problems? Knee problems? Rest assured, there is a medicine or a surgery or a brace or something you need. And your loved ones will rally around you! Bring meals, call to check on you, offer help around the house as you recover, even a simple text message. But, a chemical imbalance in your brain? Behavioral or emotional struggles? Let's not talk about that. Stay in the dark with your terrifying thoughts.
Even worse, I find myself angry and envious of those I know who have dealt with mental illness and received help. So many people who've been hospitalized and were ashamed, yet still had so much support. I've never had a long term therapist, psychiatrist, counselor, or doctor. I've bounced around between crappy therapists and doctors that change practice or decide my issues are outside their expertise. I've had family doctors tell me I should stop relying on medicine. Friends tell me I'm just selfish and lazy. A counselor that questioned why I would be depressed when I have a good family, health, a steady job, a home, clothes, etc.
As I tried to express some of this to Jason he asks what I want. The truth is, there is no good answer for me. I would turn down all offers of help. I'd be embarrassed if I had to rely on someone else in any way. I'd be ashamed, and probably end up beating myself up for not keeping up on my own. I don't want people to pity me, I know I have enough pity parties for myself!
I just don't want to feel alone. I don't want to face the dark thoughts that are impossible to explain. The racing thoughts that leave me confused, unfocused, angry, irritable, frustrated. I know I'm not alone, and the last thing I want is more cliché comments about how I'm never alone. I know that deep inside. I know the Savior is there for me, and I know my parents, siblings, and extended family would help wherever possible. But this illness is very isolating for me. What I want is to curl up by the fire, cry uninterrupted, and drown out the awful thoughts that are racing around my brain. Maybe drown it out with chocolate and diet coke? But if that worked, it would have done so by now.
Saturday, January 5, 2019
Christmas Letter 2018
Better late than never! It's been over a year since I blogged on here. Oops. Well, here is a quick synopsis of 2018:
Lucas is doing awesome in the Navy. He was one of only a few to finish the schooling, it's very difficult and many people don't pass, or quit. But he did really well, and graduated in the fall, then he was quickly sent to Pearl Harbor, where it's a little too hot for his taste.
Lilly started school at a Community College, studying to be a journalist. She hopes to do a lot of traveling and learning. Currently, she is in Jerusalem, taking full advantage of her Jewish heritage and learning about the culture and the customs.
Jeanine recently returned from Thailand with her aunt, and got to experience life in the poor parts of Thailand. She says it really changed her perspective on life. She has been working as a waitress/hostess at a small restaurant and as a model for her aunt's clothing line.
Anthonio is a junior, doing great in school. He works hard and plays hard. Currently he works for "J Dawgs", a small hot dog restaurant that has carts at different events downtown. He also plays basketball and soccer, does boxing, and just about anything else to keep in shape. He is also an awesome artist!
Karleah (also a junior this year) had a job at the airport in a restaurant for a few weeks, but it was too stressful so she ended up leaving the job after she saved up enough money to pay for her extra curricular activities. She is in the concert choir, advanced theater, and "Lancer Action Team" which does various acts of service. The last one was a huge sub-for-Santa project to help several families in need. She did work at UPS with me for a few weeks, and says it's her favorite job yet.
Caranina is a Sophomore, and had the opportunity to go to Peru with her mom over the summer. She brought home a lot of beautiful souvenirs for the little kids. She is taller than all her sisters, plays basketball, and loves art.
Nathanael just turned 13, he is adjusting to Junior High life, and was thrilled to take part in his school musical, "Alice in Wonderland, Jr." he was on stage a LOT and had a couple lines as a sea creature and the 2 of spades card. He says he feels like he always has friends and comfort in theater. He loves to play games, and he is amazing at math.
Carson is 10 and in 5th grade. We are finally on a path to get an official diagnosis for his emotional struggles, and he is doing so much better this year. I guess the teacher he has is making a big difference for him. We still have a ways to go, but things are looking up! He loves to draw, paint, color, build, create, and destroy.
Vanessa is, of course, also 10. She loves school, socializing, talking, and watching YouTube. She is getting really good at doing fun hairstyles on herself and Faith. She is a typical tween, loves makeup, hair, and hanging with friends. Every time I go to the school, one of the staff is telling me about how wonderful and helpful she is. She takes care of the special needs kids in class, and helps with the babies almost every day. She will be a great teacher and/or leader one day!
Faith, age 8, is in 3rd grade. She is a great reader, and is doing much better at her Spanish, as she practices with TJ on occasion. She loves Unicorns and Rainbows, and all things girly, pink, and sparkly. She is really getting into drawing (thanks to the example of her older siblings) but has only ever drawn unicorns, kittens, and bunnies.
Travis (TJ) is 2 1/2, we call him "monkey" because he can climb on anything and get into whatever he wants! He can entertain himself with just about anything, and often it ends up entertaining all of us! He's learning how to dress himself, how to count, and knows several colors. He loves fruit and coloring on everything!
Emily, our newest addition is 6 months old. She is scooting all over, rolling like crazy, and a happy, healthy, perfect little "nugget" (Karleah's name for her). She loves to coo at her siblings, and is absolutely in love with removing her socks and eating baby food.
Chewy and Almond are still doing well, they put up with so much from TJ climbing and jumping on them. They love to lick Emily and wrestle with each other.
Jason and I are about to celebrate 4 years of marriage. It's a wild, crazy ride. Sometimes I don't know how we do it, or what we were thinking (haha) but there's nobody I'd want by my side for this crazy life. I'm forever grateful for the knowledge of a Savior and the opportunity He brings for us to be an eternal family. All these changes in the church are exciting and fun.
Much love to all of our friends and family! May 2019 bring you great blessings and joy, and the peace of Jesus Christ as your Redeemer.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Our Christmas Letter 2017
I used to be good at sending out Christmas letters. But I guess I'm getting lazy. So I'm just putting this here in case anyone cares :)
Lucas (19) decided in April that he wanted to join the US Navy. On November 16th he was sworn in and he is currently in Illinois completing basic, and will graduate January 12th. We don't hear much from him, which isn't that different from when he was here in Utah. Jason is very proud of him, you can see a sparkle in his eyes when we mention Lucas' name.
Lilly (18) is a senior this year, she can't wait to graduate and hopes to move to Portland area for college. She is a great student with several scholarships offered. She won first place in the school's art show, which was judged by professional artists. Lilly is a best friend to Carson, Vanessa, and Faith, whether she likes it or not. They just flock to her when she comes to visit. Her visit to Cambodia was a wonderful experience and she loves to talk about it.
Jeanine (16) started working at a pizza place in Salt Lake, but it was a bit too stressful so she decided to take a break from that. She is a beautiful person inside and out, and the kids love to sit with her. She draws amazing patterns with intricate details, which Vanessa and Faith love to have her draw on their hands and arms.
Anthonio (16) is still going strong in sports. He loves basketball, soccer, and cross country. He loves to tease and has a great sense of humor. He was involved in the state science fair and he is in in a math Olympiad group. We know he will be successful in all he does.
Karleah (16) is really getting in to theater. While working as a sweeper at an elementary school, she saved up enough money to go to New York and saw 6 Broadway plays in 5 days. She wrote, cast, directed, and performed in a one-act play. She performed in an ensemble and the Shakespearean Festival, and is going on tour next spring with the theater and music departments at her school. Another passion is music, and she saved up enough money to attend Imagine Dragons in concert, her favorite group.
Caranina (14) is also an amazing artist, with an eye for detail and beauty. She loves sports, especially soccer, and went to a RSL game for her birthday earlier this year. She is compassionate and gentle, a good student, and a loving, polite daughter. Always first to say "thank you" and "please", and she is such a fun sister for TJ.
Nathanael (12) is in 6th grade and can't wait to get out of elementary. He has a few close friends, and he had a great birthday party. He just received the Aaronic priesthood and is excited to start passing the sacrament each Sunday. He loves bowling, arcades, miniature golf, and YouTube. With his birthday money, he begged me to use it to play laser tag. He was so adamant, he even offered to help pay for his siblings to play, and we had a lot of fun.
Carson (9) is still struggling emotionally. He has a huge heart, and intense emotions for such a little guy so it can be a challenge. But he's improving and the happy times are starting to increase. He is funny and loves to do puzzles, dot-to-dots, or cut paper into tiny shreds all over the living room. He loves making things, especially gifts for friends, teachers, and parents.
Vanessa (9) is the DIVA of the family. She loves Disney TV and acts like a teenager. I often find myself saying "you obviously have 4 teenage sisters". Vanessa is a social butterfly, chatting the ear off every cashier, bagger, or cart collector at any store. She makes friends wherever she goes and she is a wonderful "mini mom" to TJ (sometimes he doesn't want anyone but Vanessa!)
Faith (7) is loving 2nd grade, and learning Spanish in the dual language immersion program. She is good at math, and an excellent reader. She loves to draw and color, and if I haven't heard any noise from her in a while, I can be certain she is getting into something and making a huge mess. She loves to laugh, and makes everyone laugh with her nonsense jokes.
TJ (1) is the light of our family. He loves to be chased around by the younger kids, and teased by the older ones. He knows how to climb on anything and is completely fearless about jumping off of whatever he climbs on. He is communicating with a few signs and learning a few words. His favorite word is "Papa" and he cannot wait to see Jason after work. His other favorite words are "ball" "there" and "Jesus".
Jason and Amberleah are staying busy with work, and all the kids' activities. It's hard to believe that we got married almost 3 years ago, but we are looking forward to many years to come, and love to make plans and talk about our dreams for the future, including a couples mission once the kids are old enough.
We hope that all of our friends and family have joy in life, and that you have had a wonderful spirit in your home all year, and especially at Christmastime.
Love,
the White/Stucky family
Lucas (19) decided in April that he wanted to join the US Navy. On November 16th he was sworn in and he is currently in Illinois completing basic, and will graduate January 12th. We don't hear much from him, which isn't that different from when he was here in Utah. Jason is very proud of him, you can see a sparkle in his eyes when we mention Lucas' name.
Lilly (18) is a senior this year, she can't wait to graduate and hopes to move to Portland area for college. She is a great student with several scholarships offered. She won first place in the school's art show, which was judged by professional artists. Lilly is a best friend to Carson, Vanessa, and Faith, whether she likes it or not. They just flock to her when she comes to visit. Her visit to Cambodia was a wonderful experience and she loves to talk about it.
Jeanine (16) started working at a pizza place in Salt Lake, but it was a bit too stressful so she decided to take a break from that. She is a beautiful person inside and out, and the kids love to sit with her. She draws amazing patterns with intricate details, which Vanessa and Faith love to have her draw on their hands and arms.
Anthonio (16) is still going strong in sports. He loves basketball, soccer, and cross country. He loves to tease and has a great sense of humor. He was involved in the state science fair and he is in in a math Olympiad group. We know he will be successful in all he does.
Karleah (16) is really getting in to theater. While working as a sweeper at an elementary school, she saved up enough money to go to New York and saw 6 Broadway plays in 5 days. She wrote, cast, directed, and performed in a one-act play. She performed in an ensemble and the Shakespearean Festival, and is going on tour next spring with the theater and music departments at her school. Another passion is music, and she saved up enough money to attend Imagine Dragons in concert, her favorite group.
Caranina (14) is also an amazing artist, with an eye for detail and beauty. She loves sports, especially soccer, and went to a RSL game for her birthday earlier this year. She is compassionate and gentle, a good student, and a loving, polite daughter. Always first to say "thank you" and "please", and she is such a fun sister for TJ.
Nathanael (12) is in 6th grade and can't wait to get out of elementary. He has a few close friends, and he had a great birthday party. He just received the Aaronic priesthood and is excited to start passing the sacrament each Sunday. He loves bowling, arcades, miniature golf, and YouTube. With his birthday money, he begged me to use it to play laser tag. He was so adamant, he even offered to help pay for his siblings to play, and we had a lot of fun.
Carson (9) is still struggling emotionally. He has a huge heart, and intense emotions for such a little guy so it can be a challenge. But he's improving and the happy times are starting to increase. He is funny and loves to do puzzles, dot-to-dots, or cut paper into tiny shreds all over the living room. He loves making things, especially gifts for friends, teachers, and parents.
Vanessa (9) is the DIVA of the family. She loves Disney TV and acts like a teenager. I often find myself saying "you obviously have 4 teenage sisters". Vanessa is a social butterfly, chatting the ear off every cashier, bagger, or cart collector at any store. She makes friends wherever she goes and she is a wonderful "mini mom" to TJ (sometimes he doesn't want anyone but Vanessa!)
Faith (7) is loving 2nd grade, and learning Spanish in the dual language immersion program. She is good at math, and an excellent reader. She loves to draw and color, and if I haven't heard any noise from her in a while, I can be certain she is getting into something and making a huge mess. She loves to laugh, and makes everyone laugh with her nonsense jokes.
TJ (1) is the light of our family. He loves to be chased around by the younger kids, and teased by the older ones. He knows how to climb on anything and is completely fearless about jumping off of whatever he climbs on. He is communicating with a few signs and learning a few words. His favorite word is "Papa" and he cannot wait to see Jason after work. His other favorite words are "ball" "there" and "Jesus".
Jason and Amberleah are staying busy with work, and all the kids' activities. It's hard to believe that we got married almost 3 years ago, but we are looking forward to many years to come, and love to make plans and talk about our dreams for the future, including a couples mission once the kids are old enough.
We hope that all of our friends and family have joy in life, and that you have had a wonderful spirit in your home all year, and especially at Christmastime.
Love,
the White/Stucky family
Silent No More
I thought we were past the point of depression being taboo. I thought that, even though it's hard to talk about, it is finally being more recognized. It is something that has to be addressed. I thought everybody understood that. I was wrong.
When I was 9, my mom started on anti-depressants. I remember the change in her, it was HUGE. She was fun, outgoing, and happy. I heard her talk to others about being on anti-depressants, and I didn't know what a taboo subject it was because my mom was so open. As I grew older, I learned that a lot of people had really judged her for that. I know that must have been hard. But she never stopped talking about it.
When I started anti-depressants and counseling in the summer of 1997, my mom encouraged me to talk to friends about it. I refused! I was embarrassed and afraid of judgment. I don't know why, when I had seen my mom talk so openly about it; but I was. The only time I have ever successfully gone off medication since that time was when I was pregnant with Karleah. We had tried for 2 years, and I think that elation overrode my depression for a while. When she was a few weeks old, I found a doctor and asked for a prescription. He told me it was stupid to expect to stay on it my whole life. I got my prescription and never went back to him.
When my anti-depressants stopped working in my early 30s, and I took several months to get on the right concoction of medication to help me, I was discouraged from saying too much about it. Some that I did try to talk to were uncomfortable.
In 2011 (I think) someone I knew was hospitalized for about 10 days for suicidal ideation. I was told to keep it to myself. I was left to deal with it all on my own, very few had any idea why this person was in the hospital.
In 2016 a close friend was hospitalized, after going to an ER and arguing that she needed help, even if she didn't already have a suicide plan in place, she needed some help. She was finally admitted, but finds it hard to find people that she can talk to about it openly.
In May of this year, another person I care about was hospitalized with suicidal ideation. I was told not to tell anyone. I was again left all alone to carry the burden. I cried for hours at a time, for several days. If the kids weren't home, I was crying. When they were home, I was fighting it. This time, I was jealous of the help she received. I needed that too, and I felt like nobody realized how seriously I was struggling.
Last weekend, yet another person in my life was taken to the ER with suicidal ideation. I have been told, once again, not to talk about it. I have been lashed out at for anything I say about it. I was told that because I dared say anything to anyone I had caused undue stress on others involved. Apparently they are embarrassed. When I told them they had nothing to be ashamed of and maybe if we talked about this more, they wouldn't end up going to the ER. I was again told to keep quiet about it all. I should have lied about why she is in the hospital.
Today, inspired by my mother's courage from 28 years ago, I want to stop the silence. I will not keep my struggles inside, I will not "cover up" what is happening. I will respect the privacy of others, but I will not keep trying to trudge through my struggles without talking about it, and reaching out. I will not let others dictate my life. So, here goes.....
I have been in the dark place since I was pregnant with TJ. It's been almost 2 years of constant racing thoughts, suicidal thoughts, discouragement, anger, jealousy, depression, and more. I have tried to just "tough it out". I have tried to dedicate myself to helping others, or being more devoted to my home and family. I even doubled my dosage, and it hasn't helped. I finally started counseling, and so far that hasn't helped either. I have had panic attacks nobody sees, and anxiety nobody knows about. I need help, and I can't get it. The only way to get any serious help, in a timely manner, is to attempt suicide.
We see commercials and posters about teen suicide rates. We hear about how high a percentage the US has of depressed people (especially teens) and we have crisis lines in place. We have psych wards, therapists, psychiatrists, and medical professionals. And yet, the ONLY way to be taken seriously is to overdose. Slit your wrists. Jump in front of a train. Pull out a gun. We have come a long way, but we have so much farther to go.
When I was 9, my mom started on anti-depressants. I remember the change in her, it was HUGE. She was fun, outgoing, and happy. I heard her talk to others about being on anti-depressants, and I didn't know what a taboo subject it was because my mom was so open. As I grew older, I learned that a lot of people had really judged her for that. I know that must have been hard. But she never stopped talking about it.
When I started anti-depressants and counseling in the summer of 1997, my mom encouraged me to talk to friends about it. I refused! I was embarrassed and afraid of judgment. I don't know why, when I had seen my mom talk so openly about it; but I was. The only time I have ever successfully gone off medication since that time was when I was pregnant with Karleah. We had tried for 2 years, and I think that elation overrode my depression for a while. When she was a few weeks old, I found a doctor and asked for a prescription. He told me it was stupid to expect to stay on it my whole life. I got my prescription and never went back to him.
When my anti-depressants stopped working in my early 30s, and I took several months to get on the right concoction of medication to help me, I was discouraged from saying too much about it. Some that I did try to talk to were uncomfortable.
In 2011 (I think) someone I knew was hospitalized for about 10 days for suicidal ideation. I was told to keep it to myself. I was left to deal with it all on my own, very few had any idea why this person was in the hospital.
In 2016 a close friend was hospitalized, after going to an ER and arguing that she needed help, even if she didn't already have a suicide plan in place, she needed some help. She was finally admitted, but finds it hard to find people that she can talk to about it openly.
In May of this year, another person I care about was hospitalized with suicidal ideation. I was told not to tell anyone. I was again left all alone to carry the burden. I cried for hours at a time, for several days. If the kids weren't home, I was crying. When they were home, I was fighting it. This time, I was jealous of the help she received. I needed that too, and I felt like nobody realized how seriously I was struggling.
Last weekend, yet another person in my life was taken to the ER with suicidal ideation. I have been told, once again, not to talk about it. I have been lashed out at for anything I say about it. I was told that because I dared say anything to anyone I had caused undue stress on others involved. Apparently they are embarrassed. When I told them they had nothing to be ashamed of and maybe if we talked about this more, they wouldn't end up going to the ER. I was again told to keep quiet about it all. I should have lied about why she is in the hospital.
Today, inspired by my mother's courage from 28 years ago, I want to stop the silence. I will not keep my struggles inside, I will not "cover up" what is happening. I will respect the privacy of others, but I will not keep trying to trudge through my struggles without talking about it, and reaching out. I will not let others dictate my life. So, here goes.....
I have been in the dark place since I was pregnant with TJ. It's been almost 2 years of constant racing thoughts, suicidal thoughts, discouragement, anger, jealousy, depression, and more. I have tried to just "tough it out". I have tried to dedicate myself to helping others, or being more devoted to my home and family. I even doubled my dosage, and it hasn't helped. I finally started counseling, and so far that hasn't helped either. I have had panic attacks nobody sees, and anxiety nobody knows about. I need help, and I can't get it. The only way to get any serious help, in a timely manner, is to attempt suicide.
We see commercials and posters about teen suicide rates. We hear about how high a percentage the US has of depressed people (especially teens) and we have crisis lines in place. We have psych wards, therapists, psychiatrists, and medical professionals. And yet, the ONLY way to be taken seriously is to overdose. Slit your wrists. Jump in front of a train. Pull out a gun. We have come a long way, but we have so much farther to go.
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