One by One

May 27, 1998- my youngest sister, Makenna was born. I don’t remember much of my mom’s pregnancy, as I was only 8, but I remember the morning of her birth day as if it was yesterday. I was so excited for her to be born. I spent the day thinking about what a wonderful gift it was for my mother to be able to bring my sister into the world and what it would be like for me to one day be able to do the same. As I rode my bike around the cul-de-sac under the watchful eye of Helen Smithson , I couldn't help but feel as if it was Christmas morning. I was so anxious for my dad to call and tell us she was here and that we could come to the hospital to meet her. I remember getting my other two sisters all ready, with hair in pigtails, to go see Makenna. As I stood there at the doorway, with a long hospital hallway in front of me, I was overcome with emotion. My little 8 year old self couldn’t wait to hold a precious, little baby- my sister. I love the smell of hospitals, as it brings back this wonderful memory.

Last night, one of our friends mentioned that his wife was having contractions and that they might be having their baby very soon. As we drove away, I told Coulton how I can’t even begin to imagine how excited I would be to be able to say that I am having contractions and that we will be having a baby soon. To be able to grab that pre-packed diaper bag, car seat, and newborn onsie, get into the car and drive to the hospital is beyond my comprehension. Coulton then told me that he had thought about that too and felt the same way. He said it would be like Christmas morning.

In the beginning of April, Coulton and I had made a trip to Provo, UT and on our way home, we decided to spend the weekend with my sister and her husband. They had blown up an air mattress for us to sleep on and put it in their spare bedroom. Coulton and I were in the room, getting settled in. We were just sitting on the bed, when Senaka, my sister, came into the room and sat down. She motioned to Austin, her husband, to come in and he sat on the bed as well. Senaka looked at me and said, “So…” That’s all she had to say and the only thing I could get out was, “Are you serious? Are you serious?” and then sobbed. I tried to look up and give them a smile or a congratulations, but all I could do was get my wet mascara all over my sweatshirt sleeve. I sobbed as Coulton rubbed my back. I finally gained enough composure to say, “That is so exciting,” but then sunk back into my dark realm. The feelings were similar to those of when my brother announced that he was pregnant almost exactly 3 years previous, but these emotions nearly took my heart out and crushed it, literally making it hard to breathe. How to deal with this, I do not know.

The week of April 19th, my sister-in-law and I were FaceTiming and, as usual, we were talking about my infertility issues and what we were going to do. I nonchalantly mentioned to her that there is an infertility specialist who comes up from Sandy, UT once a month to my doctor’s office and that I should see him sometime. She then simply said, “Make an appointment.” For some reason, I needed that simple push. I instantly hung up with her and called to make an appointment. As I was talking to the receptionist, giving her my information and setting up the appointment, I felt so good about it and really felt this was the right thing to do. Before I hung up with her, she mentioned to me that the consultation would be free because it was National Infertility Awareness Week. What?! I was shocked. Through my tears, I eventually got a “thank you” out. Heavenly Father hears my prayers.

We met with the infertility specialist on May 5th. He was so helpful, hopeful and optimistic. We talked about our history and he gave us instructions on what we need to do when my next period comes. I really appreciated that he was willing to push forward and not wait for anything but my period. So, when my period comes around (hopefully at the end of this month) during days 2-4, I will get blood work done, testing the thyroid stimulating hormone, prolactin and hemoglobin. I will also have a ovarian assessment report done, which tests the number or amount of eggs in my ovaries. Coulton will also have a semen analysis done. During these days, I will also have a vaginal ultrasound done to check on things in regards to my surgery. The specialist stated that because I had a large septum in my uterus, there is a good chance that the entire septum was not removed. The ultrasound will tell us if there is some remaining, and if so, I’ll have to have another surgery to remove the remainder.

During days 5-11 of my period, I will have a hysterosalpingogram done. This is an x-ray test that looks at the inside of the uterus and fallopian tubes. A dye is injected, allowing them to see inside. I will have to be sedated during the procedure, as the force of the dye coming out my fallopian tubes, which are the size of a strand of hair, can cause severe cramping. The specialist wants to do this x-ray to see if the endometriosis has caused any scar tissue and/or blockage in the fallopian tubes, making it impossible for the egg to be accessible. He mentioned that if there is blockage, most of the time the dye will clear them. I asked him what our step would be if they are blocked and the dye doesn't clear them up. IVF would be our next step.

So we wait, wait for my next period, then wait for results. Once the results get in, then we’ll go from there. I am so excited for these next steps and for some answers. Heavenly Father hears my prayers.

About a week ago, I became eligible to sign up for insurance through my fairly new employer. As I was talking to my mom and going over the different plan options and which would be best, we noticed one special thing that was covered in all of the offered plans- infertility. Heavenly Father hears my prayers.

So many friends have answered many of my prayers. One friend in my ward messaged me on May 7th and sent me a link to an infertility article and mentioned how it had brought her peace and comfort and thought I might like it. I asked her if they were dealing with infertility and she opened up to me and told me how they have been struggling to get pregnant now for a few months and how she’s afraid she might have endometriosis. We met up that evening for frozen yogurt and talked a few hours about the pain, heartbreak, and loneliness that comes from not being able to carry a little one of our own, and how baby showers and church are painful a lot of the time.

Another friend in my ward unexpectedly sent me a text on Tuesday, asked me how my appointment went with the specialist, then asked me if I had ever considered a surrogate mother. I told her that it had crossed my mind, but that it would probably be a last resort. She then, with all her kindness and Christ-like love, told me that if we could never physically have a baby, she would by my surrogate mother. Seriously, how did Coulton and I get blessed with such wonderful, selfless friends? Heavenly Father does hear my prayers.

A family member messaged me about a month ago and told me thank you. Thank you for being open about infertility because it had inspired her to post her story and ask for prayers on her behalf. She told me that it is nice to know that she is not the only one going through this.

For anyone reading this who might be going through something similar, you are not alone, it’s okay to be uncontrollably upset and angry, and most importantly, Heavenly Father does hear your prayers.

Mother’s Day sucked. The silence of my morning, as Coulton was at meetings, was a harsh reminder that I was not a mother, for a mother is someone who has little ones who call you “Mom.”

I have been working in the baptistry of the Rexburg temple on Wednesdays. This last week, I realized something. I’m sure Heavenly Father could simply say that baptisms could be done in bulk and they would be accepted, thus making the work go much faster. But He doesn't do that. The baptismal prayer is offered for each and every person. The baptism is performed individually for each and every person. Why? Because Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love us and know us individually, each and every one of us. And that I am thankful for.

3 Nephi 17:21- “...and he took their little children, one by one, and blessed them…”

What Is It That Ye Shall Hope For?

“Moroni 7:

 40 And again, my beloved brethren, I would speak unto you concerning hope. How is it that ye can attain unto faith, save ye shall have hope?

 41 And what is it that ye shall hope for? Behold I say unto you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life eternal, and this because of your faith in him according to the promise.

 42 Wherefore, if a man have faith he must needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope.

 43 And again, behold I say unto you that he cannot have faith and hope, save he shall be meek, and lowly of heart.”

My Bishop shared this scripture with me as he and my Stake President paid me a visit last night. As we all shed tears together, I finally realized that, all along, I have been hoping for the wrong thing.

Satan would have me hope for something unguaranteed, uncertain, unsure- a baby- so that every month when my period comes, I doubt, I’m let down, saddened and my belief and trust dwindle a bit more.

However, the Savior would have me hope for something stable, grounded, firm and sure- Himself- so that when yet another year passes without a baby, my faith and hope will still be sure and firm because it is placed in Someone who is sure and firm.

All along, I’ve been hoping in the wrong thing…

Constant, Consistent Reminders

I’ve always been pretty good at not getting up and leaving in the middle of church meetings, so as to not disrupt the Spirit and others. However, last fast Sunday, I could hardly stay sitting on the bench. With my husband on the stand, I sat alone listening to the beautiful baby blessings that were offered, one after another after another. Fathers participated in the incredible opportunity to bless their babies with a name, to be watched over, and to someday marry in the temple. Mothers and fathers and grandparents then proceeded to offer heart-felt testimonies regarding their new child and how incredible it feels to be a new parent. My heart literally ached, ached. I just wanted to leave, my body and spirit sinking deep into misery and hopelessness. I put my head in my hands and tried my best to block out the noise and the image of the baby blessing dress I had tucked away in the back of our spare bedroom closet.

The list of expecting mothers in our ward keeps getting longer and longer and the hole in my heart seems to just be getting larger and larger. After finding out about one pregnancy in particular, I came home and felt lost and completely confused. I attempted to walk upstairs to change, but the climb to my room was just too difficult. I gripped the hand rail, and with my chin to my chest, sobbed. Someone, please someone, tell me why this is so hard?!

When someone blesses their baby or announces they are pregnant, it is not the specific person or couple I am angry at. Everyone is entitled to have a family whenever and however they choose. But announcements and blessings come as regular reminders to me of what I want so dearly and don’t have, and that’s what makes me angry, sad, and heartbroken. My Facebook is flooded with pregnancy announcements, gender reveals, newborns, and toddlers crawling, walking, crying, laughing and sitting on Santa’s lap. Constant, consistent reminders.

The other night, my husband and I went to a small group “party” celebrating the end of one of his classes. It consisted of mostly of men, so I felt safe, knowing (hoping) that the conversations would be mostly of video games, dirt bike riding and food. My hopes were shot. Husbands were asking other husbands when their wives were due, how crazy it is to see their baby moving in the woman’s body, or if they had found out if it was a boy or girl and how they paid extra money to find out the gender early. As my stomach sunk, I looked over at Coulton and he immediately brought something else up, as he pushed his own longing and pain aside. There is no safe ground, only consistent reminders.

A few weeks back, I spoke to a new grandma. We spoke of the brand new baby and how excited she was to be a grandma. She then asked how long Coulton and I had been married. I told her 3 ½ years. She then asked if we had any children, and I humbly told her no. She then asked, “Oh, so you guys are waiting a while to have children then?” Constant reminders.

During our Sacrament meeting Christmas program, a member of the Stake Presidency spoke of the sweetness and innocence of babies and children. He spoke of Baby Jesus and how He had to be taught by His parents. He spoke of how precious little ones are and how we are to care for and love them. Consistent reminders.

I just recently found out a friend in my ward experienced a miscarriage a few months back. Not ever going through that myself and only having an inkling of an idea of what she was going through, my heart went out to her. As we sat in her car talking about the experience, she said something that I couldn’t agree with more. She told me that after she lost her baby, people had good intentions and told her that she would have her baby in the next life, families are eternal, other babies would come, and that Heavenly Father still loved her. She knew all of this was true, but she was mad and upset, and she wanted people to let her be mad and upset. That is how I am feeling throughout this post. My testimony of the love of my Heavenly Father and the reality of eternal families has not been shaken. I am so grateful for my husband and the gospel in my life.

But for now, I just want to be upset because it absolutely and completely sucks that it is nearly impossible for me to fulfill a righteous desire, when so many around me have been blessed, some multiple times. So until my next dosage of hope comes, I am going to be angry and cry until there are no tears left.

Reverence for Life

I came across this talk given by Elder Russell M Nelson back in April of 1985. I knew I had to share once I read it.

I pray for the Spirit of the Lord to help me communicate his mind and will on a very vital and sensitive subject. I apologize for the use of words repugnant to me and ill-suited to this hallowed pulpit. I do so only for clarity of communication regarding reverence for human life.

As sons and daughters of God, we cherish life as a gift from him.

A heavy toll on life is included among the evils of war. Data from all nations are appalling. For the United States of America, one hundred thousand were killed in World War I; over four hundred thousand died in World War II. In the first two hundred years as a nation, the lives of over one million Americans were lost due to war.

Regrettable as is the loss of loved ones from war, these figures are dwarfed by the toll of a new war that annually claims more casualties than the total number of fatalities from all the wars of this nation.

It is a war on the defenseless—and the voiceless. It is a war on the unborn.

This war, labeled “abortion,” is of epidemic proportion and is waged globally. Over fifty-five million abortions were reported worldwide in the year 1974 alone. Sixty-four percent of the world’s population now live in countries that legally sanction this practice. In the United States of America, over 1.5 million abortions are performed annually.  About 25–30 percent of all pregnancies now end in abortion. In some metropolitan areas, there are more abortions performed than live births.  Comparable data also come from other nations.

Yet society professes reverence for human life. We weep for those who die, pray and work for those whose lives are in jeopardy. For years I have labored with other doctors here and abroad, struggling to prolong life. It is impossible to describe the grief a physician feels when the life of a patient is lost. Can anyone imagine how we feel when life is destroyed at its roots, as though it were a thing of naught?

What sense of inconsistency can allow people to grieve for their dead, yet be calloused to this baleful war being waged on life at the time of its silent development? What logic would encourage efforts to preserve the life of a critically ill twelve-week-old infant, but countenance the termination of another life twelve weeks after inception? More attention is seemingly focused on the fate of a life at some penitentiary’s death row than on the millions totally deprived of life’s opportunity through such odious carnage before birth.

The Lord has repeatedly declared this divine imperative: “Thou shalt not kill.” Recently he added, “Nor do anything like unto it.” (D&C 59:6.) Even before the fulness of the gospel was restored, the enlightened understood the sanctity of life. John Calvin, the sixteenth-century reformer, wrote: “If it seems more horrible to kill a man in his own house than in a field, because a man’s house is his place of most secure refuge, it ought surely to be deemed more atrocious to destroy a fetus in the womb before it has come to light.”    

But what impropriety could now legalize that which has been forbidden by the laws of God from the dawn of time? What twisted reasoning has transformed mythical concepts into contorted slogans assenting to a practice which is consummately wrong?

These slogans begin with proper concern for the health of the mother. Infrequently, instances may occur in which the continuation of pregnancy could be life-threatening to the mother. When deemed by competent medical authorities that the life of one must be terminated in order to save the life of the other, many agree that it is better to spare the mother. But these circumstances are rare, particularly where modern medical care is available.

Another sympathetic concern applies to pregnancies resulting from rape or incest. The tragedy of this despoilment is compounded because, in such relationships, freedom of choice is denied the woman who is innocently involved.

But less than 3 percent of all abortions are performed for these two reasons.  The other 97 percent are performed for what may be termed “reasons of convenience.”

Some argue for abortion because a malformed child may result. The harmful effects of certain infectious or toxic agents in the first trimester of pregnancy are real.

The experience of a couple whom I shall identify as Brother and Sister Brown (fictitious names) is instructive. Sister Brown was only twenty-one years old at the time, a beautiful woman and a devoted wife. In her first trimester, she contracted the dreaded German measles.

Abortion was advised because the developing baby would almost surely be damaged. Some members of her family, out of loving concern, applied additional pressure for an abortion. “Don’t burden yourself financially with a handicapped child,” they argued. “You are too young and too poor.”

Devotedly Brother and Sister Brown consulted their bishop. He referred them to their stake president, who listened to their serious concern and counseled them not to terminate the life of this baby, even though the child might have a problem.

He quoted this scripture:

“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.” (Prov. 3:5–6.)

They chose to follow that counsel and permit their child to be born—a beautiful little girl, normal in every respect, except for a hearing loss, that became evident later. After an evaluation at a school for the deaf, Brother and Sister Brown were advised that this child had the intellect of a genius. Now, some twenty years later, she attends a major university on a scholarship.

When recently asked how they felt about their once-weighty decision, the mother quickly responded, “She is one of the great joys of my life! She is such a choice spirit! Though she lost the sense of hearing, she has compensated with augmented ability otherwise. Her eyes are alive with constant attention. She excels in dancing, even though she perceives the sounds of music from vibrations. She has served as an officer in school. But most significant is her guileless spirit, her unconditional love. She has taught us to serve and to share. Her spiritual insights have helped us to know God and his purposes. My husband and I are so grateful that she is one of our children.”

Consider another individual weighing the consequences of her pregnancy. She was beyond the normal age for bearing children. She announced to her doctor that her husband was an alcoholic with a syphilitic infection. One of her children had been born dead. Another child was blind. Another had tuberculosis. Her family had a history of deafness. Finally she confessed that she was living in abject poverty. If this true historical situation were posed today, many would recommend abortion. The child born from that pregnancy became the renowned composer Ludwig van Beethoven.

But the principle involved extends beyond those who may become great. If one is to be deprived of life because of potential for developing physical problems, consistency would dictate that those who already have such deficiencies should likewise be terminated. Continuing, then, those who are either infirm, incompetent, or inconvenient should be eliminated by those in power. Such irreverence for life is unthinkable!

Another contention raised is that a woman is free to choose what she does with her own body. To a certain extent this is true for all of us. We are free to think. We are free to plan. And then we are free to do. But once an action has been taken, we are never free from its consequences. Those considering abortion have already exercised certain choices.

To clarify this concept, we can learn from the astronaut. Any time during the selection process, planning, and preparation, he is free to withdraw. But once the powerful rocket fuel is ignited, he is no longer free to choose. Now he is bound by the consequences of his choice. Even if difficulties develop and he might wish otherwise, the choice made was sealed by action.

So it is with those who would tamper with the God-given power of procreation. They are free to think and plan otherwise, but their choice is sealed by action.

The woman’s choice for her own body does not validate choice for the body of another. The expression “terminate the pregnancy” applies literally only to the woman. The consequence of terminating the fetus therein involves the body and very life of another. These two individuals have separate brains, separate hearts, and separate circulatory systems. To pretend that there is no child and no life there is to deny reality.

It is not a question of when “meaningful life” begins or when the spirit “quickens” the body. In the biological sciences, it is known that life begins when two germ cells unite to become one cell, bringing together twenty-three chromosomes from both the father and from the mother. These chromosomes contain thousands of genes. In a marvelous process involving a combination of genetic coding by which all the basic human characteristics of the unborn person are established, a new DNA complex is formed. A continuum of growth results in a new human being. The onset of life is not a debatable issue, but a fact of science.

Approximately twenty-two days after the two cells have united, a little heart begins to beat. At twenty-six days the circulation of blood begins.    

Scripture declares that the “life of the flesh is in the blood.” (Lev. 17:11.) Abortion sheds that innocent blood.

Another excuse some use to justify abortion relates to population control. Many in developing nations unknowingly ascribe their lack of prosperity to overpopulation. While they grovel in ignorance of God and his commandments, they may worship objects of their own creation (or nothing at all), while unsuccessfully attempting to limit their population by the rampant practice of abortion. They live in squalor, oblivious to the divine teaching—stated in the scriptures not once, but thirty-four times—that people will prosper in the land only if they obey the commandments of God.    

How can God fulfill his promise to prosper his children in obedience if they worship idols or destroy life created by him—destined to be in his very image?

They will prosper only when their education includes faith in and obedience to the God of this world, who said,

“I, the Lord, … built the earth, my very handiwork; and all things therein are mine. And it is my purpose to provide. … But it must needs be done in mine own way. … For the earth is full, and there is enough and to spare.” (D&C 104:14–17; italics added.)

Now, as a servant of the Lord, I dutifully warn those who advocate and practice abortion that they incur the wrath of Almighty God, who declared, “If men … hurt a woman with child, so that her fruit depart from her, … he shall be surely punished.” (Ex. 21:22.)

Of those who shed innocent blood, a prophet declared: “The judgments which [God] shall exercise … in his wrath [shall] be just; and the blood of the innocent shall stand as a witness against them, yea, and cry mightily against them at the last day.” (Alma 14:11.)

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has consistently opposed the practice of abortion. One hundred years ago the First Presidency wrote: “And we again take this opportunity of warning the Latter-day Saints against those … practices of foeticide and infanticide.”    

Early in his presidency, our beloved President Spencer W. Kimball said, “We decry abortions and ask our people to refrain from this serious transgression.”    

Why destroy a life that could bring such joy to others?

Now, is there hope for those who have so sinned without full understanding, who now suffer heartbreak? Yes. So far as is known, the Lord does not regard this transgression as murder. And “as far as has been revealed, a person may repent and be forgiven for the sin of abortion.” Gratefully, we know the Lord will help all who are truly repentant.

Yes, life is precious! No one can cuddle a cherished newborn baby, look into those beautiful eyes, feel the little fingers, and caress that miraculous creation without deepening reverence for life and for our Creator.

Life comes from life. It is a gift from our Heavenly Father. It is eternal, as he is eternal. Innocent life is not sent by him to be destroyed! This doctrine is not of me, but is that of the living God and of his divine Son, which I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I've Won the Award

You know how when you were young (or for me, still today) it was difficult to sleep on Christmas Eve night? Well, that was me yesterday morning. I woke up randomly at 3am, unable to fall back asleep for a while because I was so excited and anxious for what the day held. I could hardly wait. I got out of bed around 5:40am, put on some comfy clothes, brushed my teeth and hair, and slid on my slippers. I was ready!

The night before, Tuesday, Coulton gave me a Priesthood blessing. He blessed that I would have comfort and peace, that the doctors would be guided by the Lord's hand, and that I would receive the desires of my heart. It was so beautiful. I am so grateful for such a wonderful husband, one who has stood beside me through all of this. 

We walked, hand-in-hand, through the emergency room doors, and a kind lady who had been working all night, admitted us. She walked us through the same doors I walked through the previous day when I got lab work done in preparation for the surgery. She led me to the room where I would be staying before and after the surgery. The nurse came in, gave me a gown and had me sign some paperwork. I changed into the gown, then lied down on the bed. As she proceeded to put the painful IV in my hand, the anesthesiologist came in, asked me a bunch of questions and had me sign more paperwork. Yay, I was so excited! He then told me they had to put a breathing tube in me, that made me nervous, but he assured me I would remember nothing. 

The nurse then put compressors on my legs, making it so blood clots didn't form. She then told us that at 7am, they would be ready to roll me out. She then left us alone for a few minutes. So much was racing through my mind. In all the excitement, I was nervous that the doctors would get in there and notice that everything looked good, and could see no problems. That kind of news would leave me hanging and confused, not sure what to do next. But I trusted. 

7am, the nurse came in and had three different sedative medicines in her hand. She told me that they wouldn't knock me out completely, but they would make me feel a bit out of it. She injected them into my IV and little stars started forming around my eyes. She then rolled me out as I said I love you to Coulton. As I was rolled into the operating room, I remember a lot of people and two large lights above me. Then I saw my doctor. He was standing right over me, and I was thrilled to see him. He proceeded to explain to me for the 5th time what he was going to do. They then put the anesthesia over my mouth and nose, and the thing was squishing my right eye. I was about to ask them to fix it, but when I was about to say something, I was all of the sudden in the recovery room. 

My doctor came up to me and the first thing he said was, "You win the award!" I smiled and thought to myself, Oh, because I was such a good patient. But I was wrong. I asked, "What for?" He then said, "Doctor Lovell (the doctor who helped with the surgery) has been doing this procedure for over 30 years and he has never seen such a large septum in a uterus." So they found something!!! I thought. Even though I was still out of it, I was excited. 

Everything they had planned on doing in the surgery, they did. We all thought I had endometriosis, but there was no way for them to know if I did unless we did surgery. Sure enough, I did. They cauterzied my endometriosis, getting rid of about 95% of it, I think I remember him saying. He said that my endometirosis was a level 2 out of 4. 

We also knew that I had a bicornuate uterus, or heart shaped uterus. They weren't sure if they were going to be able to fix this, not knowing how bad it was or if it was going to be possible to remove. Referring to what Dr. Lovell said, it was the largest he's ever seen and they were able to remove and shave it all away! The heart shaped uterus can cause infertility and miscarriages. There is basically a wall separating the uterus. Most of the time, the fertilized egg will implant on this wall. There is little nutrients and blood flow in this wall, making a very unfriendly place for the baby to grow. The egg will then die and slough off. My doctor said that this could have been happening to me. I could have had multiple fertilized eggs implanting on this septum wall, but they all died off, just coming out in my period. If this was happening, the zygote would have never lived long enough for me to know that I was pregnant. 

All of our hopes and prayers had been answered! I was so relieved to know that they found issues and were able to take care of them.

My husband has been my angel through this all. He sat at my side all day yesterday, except for when he went to get breakfast at 2 in the afternoon. Poor guy. He has been so concerned for me and so helpful. He is so willing to do anything and get anything for me. I have learned so much about him and about our marriage through these experiences. It has brought us so much closer together, and for that, I am eternally grateful. 

I am also grateful for doctors and technology and medicine. Without them, we may have never been able to figure these problems out.

And above all, I am grateful for my Heavenly Father. I know that without his help, support and love for me, my husband and I would have never had so many questions answered. He has been holding my hand through it all. I know that grief, sorrow and pain will give me experience to be able to be more like our Savior. He is my award. 



Therefore, how can you and I really expect to glide naively through life, as if to say, “Lord, give me experience, but not grief, not sorrow, not pain, not opposition, not betrayal, and certainly not to be forsaken. Keep from me, Lord, all those experiences which made Thee what Thou art! Then let me come and dwell with Thee and fully share Thy joy!” -Neal A. Maxwell

Three

This month marks 3 years- 3 years of growing, 3 years of crying, 3 years of laughing, 3 years of learning, 3 years of trying. It was during the October session of General Conference in 2011 that we both felt we should start expanding our family. I never thought the next 3 years would bring me down this road.

Coulton and I fasted a couple weeks ago to know what we should do- continue with the multiple medications or go into surgery. We both got a clear answer- surgery. So, I met with the doctor to let him know that surgery is the route we wanted to take. He said that surgery was definitely an option, but he insisted on doing more tests and trying different pills. He offered it almost as a sales pitch, one where I couldn’t argue or get out of. I left the office disappointed and upset- I didn’t want to do another year of tests or medication, especially when I knew what we should do. I felt lost. I felt frustrated. Tears streamed as I drove to work.

That afternoon, I called the nurse and said that I didn’t want to do any more medication; I want to do the surgery. She said, “Okay, let’s schedule it.” So, to make a long story short, I am getting surgery done next week. I am beyond excited. Even though there are multiple things wrong and I feel my body is broken, I am so grateful that this might give us some answers, grateful for technology and doctors, and fasting.

President Thomas S. Monson said, “Our mortal life…was never meant to be easy or consistently pleasant. Our Heavenly Father, who gives us so much to delight in, also knows that we learn and grow and become refined through hard challenges, heartbreaking sorrows and difficult choices.”

In the Church News for the week of September 28, 2014 under the “Church News Viewpoint” article Why is There Suffering? it states “empathizing with others meets its highest elevation when the comforter knows exactly what the sufferer is going through. In this way we also become like Christ.” I hope, that by some small mean, I can become more like Christ in being able to comfort a sufferer because of my suffering.

Here’s to the next 3 years; I believe in Christ, so come what may. 

With life up in the air...

On Friday, I ran into a friend at Wal-Mart. As we were catching up, she mentioned that I hadn’t blogged in a while and that she enjoys reading what I have to say. So…here it is. There have been numerous thoughts and feelings over the past few weeks, but having to relive those feelings so I can put them into words is difficult, yet comforting.

On Friday, June 13, my mother-in-law passed away. While overhearing the telephone conversation between my husband and his father, confirming the passing of Julie, I had a deep ache for her loss, yet a thrilled realization to know that she was with my children. I knew it. She was hugging them, talking to them, and teaching them, all looking at Coulton and me as we cried over her death. My children are her grandchildren, and she loves them. I am so grateful for her life, for her giving life to my husband. I am also grateful for her life on the other side of the veil. For now, she will be their guardian.

Life and death are such interesting things. My husband and I are doing everything we can to bring life to this earth, and everyone else was trying to keep Julie’s life on earth. It’s like we don’t want anyone to be in heaven; we want them all here. I think that’s because this life is all we know and have. Yes, I believe in the premortal life, in life after death, and that we’ll live forever with our families. But the only life my physical body and mind can comprehend and remember is this life, a life where I don’t have children yet, a life where loved ones are dying- this is what makes it so painful for me.

A couple of months ago, my mom sent me a baby doll. She told me that when she was first married, when she longed for a child, would hold this doll and it would bring her comfort. She gave her to me in hopes that she would bring me that same comfort.  She wears a long white dress, has yarn hair, painted eyes, and sewn on fingers. Just the other day, as I walked into our spare bedroom to clean it and saw her lying in my rocking chair, I put aside any logic, and held her. I stroked her yarn hair, looked into her painted eyes, and held her sewn on fingers. It felt so good to just hold something in my arms. Guess my mom was right.

My doctor said that we could try one more step before surgery, a procedure called an IUI- Intrauterine insemination. They take a sperm sample from my husband and inject it directly into my uterus, making the swim shorter and easier for the sperm. So, when the ovulation test came back positive last Monday, we went to the doctor to do the procedure. Before the injection, the nurse had us look at a small sample of the sperm under a microscope. It was truly the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen- so many little sperm, my dear husband’s sperm, swimming around, desperately and frantically trying to find my egg. I’ve seen plenty of sperm because of a pregnancy class and TLC birth stories, but never my husband’s, never the little guys who could potentially become my sweet babies. So miraculous.

My family was aware that I was doing this procedure. Later that day, I was talking to my youngest sister and the first thing she said was “So, are you pregnant?!” It was so sincere and sweet. I explained to her that I would have to wait until I missed my next period to know, that it wasn’t instant. I can’t wait for the day to tell her that she’ll have a new little niece or nephew.

Now that I’ve waited until I started my period, I can tell her that no, I am not pregnant. This really is a roller coaster ride. Going up- taking Clomid to help me ovulate, having the IUI procedure done, having a blood test done to see if I actually ovulated, waiting for the nurse to call to tell me the blood test results, missing her call and getting off work too late to call them back and find out, then hoping but trying not to get my hopes up, praying, wishing, waiting. Then going down-starting my period. That’s really all there is to going down, but it’s always a steep, fast drop. Then, ever so slowly, back up.

Through all of this, I have grown closer and closer to my husband. He has learned how to comfort me, what to say, what to do. Friday morning, as I crawled back into bed after using the restroom, he scooted close to me and asked “Did you start?” When I told him yes, he put his arm around me and let out a sigh that told me he was just as disappointed and sad as I was. He’s on the roller coaster ride too.

“With life up in the air, my faith has learned to fly. I know whose hands are covering my eyes.” –Cheri Magill