Fall clips 2017

They Make Us So Dang Happy

Another random little clip from our private YouTube channel. 

How Desperately Would You Fight?

Heeding the signs warning me that I might pass out in the shower, I sit down in my bathtub and let the hot water fill to the brim. I rest my back on the cold porcelain and close my eyes. Deep breaths.

On the other side of the shower curtain I hear my children laughing with their adoring daddy.
My beautiful, perfect daughters. One so mild, the other so wild. They are my universe.
Their gleeful giggles are the purest notes of music to my ears and my soul sings: I am alive.

Tears of gratitude fall down my cheeks; I allow them to fall freely.
What if this shower curtain was like that veil that prevented them from seeing my face, feeling my arms around them, squealing in delight from Mama's tickles?
What if I could see them and hear them, but they could no longer hear or see me?

I thank my Father in Heaven for allowing me to stay.
With everything I have in me, I would fight to remain here with the three of them. And to be able to stay and bring more of these precious souls to our family.
To grow, to struggle, to ache, to love, to learn, to cry, to hurt, to stretch, to laugh, to dance, to play, to sing, to live. To be in the present day in and day out. And to choose to have joy every day.

I would fight. My purpose is here and now.

How desperately would you fight?

Life is Precious

Grateful to be alive today. The bleeding. Way too much bleeding and my nurse thought I might be hemorrhaging. Riverton ER. Freaking I hate the ER and avoid it at all costs. Waiting. Bleeding. Waiting. How am I still alive when this much is coming out of me?
More waiting.
Pelvic exam. PAIN.
I close my eyes and imagine having another baby with my best friend. I will walk through this valley of the shadow of death if I must.
Too much blood and clotting for the pelvic exam to provide any answers.
Nausea, more pain. Blacking out. Why do they only check on me once every hour when I'm losing not only blood, but what feels like my insides?
Alarm sounding for Dr. Elliott and help for revival in Room 9. That's my room, isn't it? The room is spinning and all I feel is fading away. Like a dream.
I'm worried about Jon. And I'm remembering a Priesthood blessing a few weeks ago saying that our physicians and doctors would know how to take care of me. I think of my daughters. I feel in and out of consciousness. The voices around me are urgent and there goes another IV in my left arm. They want me to live. I'm grateful.
Cold. So cold. But coming back. Jon has tears. They were preparing for cardiac arrest?? My face was as white as the bed sheets? Surreal.
So terribly cold!! The fluid now running through my veins is like ice!
What just happened?? Cue the shock. And now I'm shaking so bad you'd for sure think I'm having a seizure.
Three warm blankets directly on my skin.
Tears of relief. My best friend sure loves me. He was petrified.
Hours pass. They seem to check on me more frequently now.
I'm not nauseated so I'm happy.
But so much blood still. How can I be alive and bleed this much? Not just blood...much more than blood. So scary!
6:30 PM. An OBGYN enters the room with her nurse. They say let's get you home. 😭
Where were they six hours ago? I love them.
Morphine. I love them even more.
The nurse strokes my hand and leg and she is so soothing.
Modified D&C right then and there in the ER room. Painful but a breeze compared to the pelvic exam. Suddenly the cramping and gushing and flowing of what I thought were my insides is finished.
It is finished.
Life is precious.
And we were so naive! Naive thinking I could just take medicine for the miscarriage to pass through and it would be that simple. Naive in not knowing what the recovery of a miscarriage would look like. Reminder that I am not Wonder Woman. Reminder that God is in charge.
Grateful to be home and snuggle my girls tonight.