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.

                                                       

Still Falling for You

Happy Anniversary to us! It's been nearly 8 years since Jonathan David walked into my life randomly on a boating trip in Cody, Wyoming. I'm still falling for this man.

A Testimony from my Father

I love my Dad. I have been a Daddy's Girl for as long as I can remember, and I have always admired his faith and commitment to the gospel. My parents have been asked by our bishop to prepare our young men and young women for trek this year. Tonight he went all out, dressed up like Brother Brigham, and shared his testimony of the pioneers who sacrificed everything to journey to Zion. I was so touched by what he shared with our youth tonight. The spirit of God, like a fire, was burning as he shared his testimony. I feel like what he said really reached the hearts of so many in the room, and our young men and women needed to hear and feel it all. So I asked him to send me his thoughts so I could have a record of his eloquent words forever. 

Willie & Martin Handcart Companies    

When I heard the reports of those good brothers and sisters in the handcart companies and their 
incomprehensible, arduous pain, suffering, and deprivations with freezing cold and starvation, I buckled to my knees in heart wrenching supplication.  Why? Why I pled, did they need to suffer so? They are good faithful saints who had implicit trust that a loving God Omnipotent would provide for them; an all-powerful God who with the breath of his nostrils could blow a warm breeze that would make even the nights “comfy;” a God who could provide for their nourishment as He did for the children of Israel with manna from heaven. He should have at the least caused an “Indian Summer” and delayed the raging, ravishing winter. But no, winter was unleashed early in all its fury. Why? Why, I cry. Then comes the solace of the Holy Ghost and I feel joy and praise God for their salvation! They have proven worthy and paid the price to be encircled in the robes of righteousness and embraced in the loving arms of a dear, omniscient Father. Glory be to the Father! In his infinite wisdom we have the eternal example from these faithful saints of what it means to be obedient and to 
sacrifice. God’s ways are not our ways, our ways are not God’s, His purposes will be fulfilled and we will come to understand that to accept God’s will is what is eternally best for all.  As we search the journals of individuals and the miracles that occurred in their personal lives, we will see that God did not abandon His loyal saints. He sent ministering angels to protect, provide, and comfort them in their dire straits.

I sincerely hope that by the end of this summer each of you will not only have a better understanding of obedience and sacrifice, but that you will have a greater desire and ability to live these two basic laws. And that you will have it stamped into your heart that to obey is better than to repent and that sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven.

So let’s have a brief overview of the handcart companies.  By 1856 many humble people in the British Isles and Scandinavia had been converted to the Gospel, which had been restored by Jesus Christ through the prophet Joseph Smith in the year 1830.  These faithful saints recognized and felt the truth that the fullness of the gospel had been restored and that Zion must be established and the Kingdom of God built and strengthened so that the Kingdom of God can be united with the Kingdom of Heaven so that Christ can return and personally reign on the earth. Immigration from Europe to the valley of the Great Salt Lake was very costly and these faithful brothers and sisters cheerfully sold all that they had to pay for ocean passage to America and then to travel on river boat to meet with other saints for the manual trek across this continent.  Many of these poor saints by the time they arrived to begin the trek were practically destitute and could not afford the price of a wagon and oxen to cross the plain.  So Brigham Young was inspired to have them build handcarts, which they could pull and 
push, loaded with their meager belongings. The first three handcart companies departed winter quarters the end of July and successfully arrived in the Salt Lake Valley the end of September and the first of October; showing that this manner of transporting can succeed. The fourth and fifth companies (Martin and Willie, respectively) didn’t depart winter quarters until August 17 and 27. This late departure and the subsequent consequences will be the focus of our attention.  The next five handcart companies that left winter quarters by late June or early August between 1857 and 1860 were all successful with limited casualties. This made a total of ten handcart companies that made the manual trek. After 1860 wagon trains were dispatched in the early spring from Salt Lake to pick up the immigrants and return in the late summer or early fall.  The transcontinental railroad was being built and the journey was greatly facilitated thereafter. From the ten companies there were a total of about three thousand faithful saints who made the arduous journey with handcarts.

So let’s turn our attention to the Willie and Martin companies in August 1856.  The day is warm and it is hard to imagine what the weather would be like when the season changes and the cold snow blows. The saints have sacrificed greatly to cross the ocean and get this far in moving toward Zion.
They are faithful; they are committed to the cause and thy want to obey the revelations to prepare the way for the fulfillment of the great and marvelous work that God has begun with his prophet.  There have already been enough delays and we know that God will prepare a way for us to accomplish his commands.

Levi Savage used his common sense and knowledge of the country and declared positively that to his certain knowledge they could not cross the mountains with a mixed company of aged people, women, and little children, so late in the season without much suffering, sickness and death.  He therefore advised waiting in winter quarters until next spring.  He was rebuked by the other elders for want of faith and finally declared: “Brethren and sisters, what I have said I know to be true; but seeing you are to go forward, I will go with you, will help you all I can, will work with you, will rest with you, will suffer with you, and, if necessary, I will die with you.  May God in His mercy bless and preserve us.”  So it begs the question why would they depart without delay so late in the year?  Why would Brother Savage humbly submit himself to such a precarious adventure?  The answer will never be found in secular history books. Worldly authors refuse to recognize the hand of God and that he directs the outcome of this world.  From their sterile sanitized perspective, mistakes were made and the leadership is responsible for poor judgment.  What historians fail to recognize is that these saints had received an absolute witness from the Spirit that they were engaged in the work of the Lord and that as God lives this is His Church. They will be obedient and observe to the best of their ability their role in bringing about God’s will even if it means sacrificing everything.  And as stated earlier, the Lord was with them as reported in many journals, in spite of the extreme hardships encountered. Because they sacrificed so much, you are the beneficiaries and can witness that the Kingdom of God has grown, become strong and is nearly ready to usher in the great and dreadful day of the Lord of which should be your joy to participate.

The purposes of God were accomplished.  The faithful were blessed, tested, and proven worthy to enter into His presence.  And we have a live example to teach obedience and sacrifice.  As you are required to do things that for you might be difficult, remember the example of your heritage and do the difficult to receive the blessings of heaven. 

Rex Mecham

Having been born of goodly parents...

That One Time I Turned 30

When something like this happen in your life, I find it is best just to embrace it.

And so I have officially said goodbye to my twenties and welcomed the year of "Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving" whole-heartedly. My goal is to dance my way through life, both literally and figuratively speaking, and to stay young at heart. In some ways it is easy to remain youthful and fun, especially with the cutest most darling 2 year old who I get to be with all day every day. She is the greatest little thing. And yet, becoming a mother (twice!) has given me greater feelings of anxiety and worry than I ever thought possible.

I thought I loved fiercely. I really did. Then, these two came along.

Cuteness overload.

And my days are filled with simple tasks like making food, changing diapers, singing songs at the top of my lungs, teaching the alphabet and how to count to ten, wiping dirty fingers and faces, tidying up the scattered toys and books strewn across the living room, painting pictures, playing barbies, and putting off that ever dreaded huge pile of clean laundry that still needs to be folded. I will forever have laundry coming out my ears now. I need to embrace that too I suppose. 

And while my daily tasks and responsibilities of striving to be a good housekeeper are simple, my job of being their mother is far from simple.

It is my calling and my purpose. 

 And I am exhausted and I often feel guilty that I need to spend my time in more meaningful ways with them, what mother doesn't? But there are some moments that everything syncs together, like when we're playing in the snow or creating something with playdough or just laughing at each other. 

And in those moments, I am filled. 

Being a mommy is truly the best thing that has ever happened to me, because I have never given so much of myself and my time and my service to anyone before.

To be honest, I am naturally a rather selfish person. But to really feel like you've had a good mommy moment, there is little room for selfishness. 

The stomach bug overtook my girl for nearly an entire week. It was awful. But the extra snuggles were pretty tender.

I turned 30 in the midst of motherhood. And every day I sit and think how these three are my entire universe, and how blessed I am to have them forever. 

And I will continue my prayer to be in the right place, at the right time, I sure hope I do something right today.

:) 

Thoughts Regarding Motherhood and Feminism

An angel just fell asleep in my arms.
And so I felt inspired to share a few thoughts.

I used to worry about being a mother.
When I nannied a few years back, I was particularly concerned. My job as a nanny gave me anxiety, rarely fulfillment. I wondered if I could survive each day staying at home with my own children. I look back at those thoughts and just chuckle to myself now.

The experience is completely different when the child is your own, belongs to you, of your own making. Amberly is such a part of me, I truly cannot imagine not spending this many hours of my days, weeks, and life with her.

Time is so fleeting as it is.
This nearly one year old baby has already changed so drastically. The thought of me working during the week, rather than nurturing her every day and being there for each milestone moment, seems impossible to me.

Perspective.

It is so crystal clear, so deeply obvious that I am exactly where I need to be each day as Jon leaves for work and I get Amberly from her crib to nurse her and cuddle her. I find it very interesting that the world tried to convince me otherwise, and that I was so worried at one point about being a stay-at-home mom.

Every day, I find fulfillment. No, not in doing laundry or dishes or dirty diapers or all the mundane things. But knowing I am here with my daughter, doing the best I can to mother her. I am not perfect, but I am learning. And I am so full of gratitude that this is my role, to keep things running on the home front, so that Jon and I can have a Christ-centered home and a stable family to build together.

I know many mothers may not have the financial stability to be able to stay at home with their children. But Jon and I are so grateful that I can. And neither of us find my role demeaning in any way. I am not apologetic when asked what I do - I stay at home to nurture and raise my child.

My Amberly Faith who is my entire universe. It is the best job I have ever had.

I know there are a lot of questions regarding women and the Priesthood. And I understand that many of the questions raised are valid questions, that many women are hurting because they do not feel their roles in the church or in the temple are equal to those of men. Many questions in this life may not be answered until we meet with God Himself. I have a feeling that many concerns we deal with in mortality will dissipate in that eternal moment.

And this I do know: I have never felt belittled or less of a person because I do not hold the Priesthood. As a woman in the Mormon church, I have always felt validated and important. I have found myself in various leadership positions in the wards I have served in, and every bishop I have ever encountered has asked for and sustained my opinion and leadership on church matters. When I am not serving in leadership positions in the ward I reside, I find joy in magnifying whatever calling I do have and building God's kingdom as much as I possibly can. We can expend our energy to building Zion in our homes, our wards, our communities. We can focus on service. I am currently an Activity Days leader, and I feel guided each day on how to magnify this calling and please my Heavenly Father as I reach out to these young girls who are about to enter the Young Womens Program.

And finally, I know that when I surround myself with sources of truth, rather than confused opinions or worldly perspectives, I am happier. I am full of light. I am confident, and I feel closer to my Father in Heaven. I have chosen to refrain from reading certain blogs and articles that were filling my soul with doubt and uncertainty. And in so doing I have found light and truth and ultimately, my true self again. I feel closer to my Father in Heaven when I engulf myself in the Book of Mormon and General Conference talks - sources of scripture, of truth. My spirit soars and I feel a confirmation from the Holy Ghost that our modern day prophet and his apostles are men of God, righteous men who lead Christ's church on the earth today.
These are the things I know. And this is why I have joy every day.

 

15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.

16 Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?

17 Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit.

18 A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.

19 Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.

20 Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.                                Matthew 7

By turning to the correct sources, I have found that good fruit, and I rejoice in it.
This post is not to stir the pot or to be controversial. It is to state what I know and how I live, because I feel that my Heavenly Father would like me to use my voice from time to time.

And that's all I have to say on the matter for now.

Life Lessons from Laie

Our vacation to Hawaii was wonderful. I am making a Shutterfly book of our memories so we can cherish them always, and I can post the finished product on my blog. But before I forget, my husband encouraged me to blog about one of the greatest lessons the people of Laie, Hawaii taught me.

 

And that is, there is so much joy in living simply.

My intent is not to rip on Utah culture when I say the truth of the matter: the people in Salt Lake County generally live a much more materialistic life than those in Oahu. It's simply the truth. Huge, new, nice homes being built everywhere. Perfect pinterest projects to improve a home that is already extremely comfortable. I know I am not alone in having moments of discouragement: I am not a good enough decorator, housekeeper, or crafter. I am incapable of remodeling my own bathroom or kitchen on my own, blah blah blah.

There is a home next door to me that qualified to be in the Parade of Homes this year.
That is fine if having a glamorous home is a passion or an outlet for creativity, but what really truly matters?

Does having such a living space matter so much that it makes us feel bad if we don't measure up to a certain standard? Who set that standard anyway?

The people of Laie Hawaii live simply. They spend most of their lives outdoors, on the beach, or in the kitchen preparing food for masses of people, for their brothers and sisters. The more who come to share a meal, the merrier.



Charity. I am still learning it. The Polynesian culture is an excellent example to me of this virtue.
Perspective. I hope to remember this lifestyle as I raise my family in the beautiful state of Utah. There are good saints everywhere, and I choose to blossom where I am planted.

I want to focus my energy on being with my children, reading good books that engage my mind, keeping my body and spirit healthy, enjoying the outdoors, fixing good meals for my family and friends, and keeping a clean home that reminds me of the temple.

 

To me, that is what really matters.

 

 

 We miss you, Hawaii.

 



Remembering Lydia

Amberly has a cousin on her Daddy's side of the family.

She would have turned two years old last Saturday.

And we have not forgotten.

Families are Forever

As if she knew exactly why we were there,

Amberly pointed to that phrase completely on her own.

 

Life is full of heartache and sorrow.

Pain unimaginable.

 

But because of the gospel of Jesus Christ,

I believe in

hope,

healing

and the promise of light dawning in the morning.

 

I believe in miracles,

and I pray for them every day.

 

We love you Lydia, and we have not forgotten how special you are.

A Time and a Season

Exactly one year ago today, we did our first round of Intrauterine Insemination.
I couldn't allow myself to count on it working for the very first try (20% chance) -
But it did.

It was finally time.
8 months later to the day, Amberly Faith was born.
Eight months!
Life can change so quickly and drastically.

And today marks her precious life of four months.
I have a four month old baby! It still feels like a dream sometimes.
Indeed, these past four months feel like a blur.
Wasn't Halloween just a few weeks ago? When I dressed my prego belly up like Humpty Dumpty?

I keep thinking of this scripture lately, as it seems to be my theme in life.
Happy 4 months to my precious daughter. Crossing my fingers that her immunizations go much better the second time around...

10 Years

Life has slowed down immensely as I have become a mother -
In a really really good way.

I have so much more time to just think
and self reflect
and thank my Father in Heaven each day for my miracles.
For my daughter
And my husband who is still my best friend.

When Baby Girl and I walk with Jonathan to school,
I get to take the long route home
And just enjoy this gorgeous immerging spring. Spring and fall taste and feel so very different from each other, don't they. It is almost tangible.

The smell of the grass,
and that familiar feeling of change and rebirth in the air.

And today as I walked around the park I reflected on these past ten years.
Ten years that Provo has been my home, and suddenly that is all about to change. I have learned to truly appreciate this little town.

It is time to gather the moving boxes and begin that lengthy process that I love and dread at the same time. I love throwing things away and starting afresh in a new place. But I hate feeling overwhelmed with all the work that awaits me. Maybe our last move to Ohio and back again just left a bad taste in my mouth.

I know my real home is wherever Jonathan and Amberly are. So begins a new fork along the road of our lives as a family of three.

Let the new adventures begin.

Insights on Mothering: Lesson 1

#1: This Too Shall Pass

After doing the research of exactly which vaccinations my 2-month old baby would be receiving today and what diseases we are preventing by doing so, Jonathan and I decided it was the responsible, safest thing to do. We would do anything for our daughter.

I thought I was so brave today as I comforted her while they administered the shots in her little legs. Legs that have only been exposed to this world for nearly nine weeks. My sweet girl, just starting to smile. And then the pain. A rude awakening to life on earth, right? We live in a world of opposition I know.

The first couple of hours weren't so bad, and Jon and I took all the credit thinking that giving her infant tylenol beforehand would make this experience less heart-wrenching. Then two hours later, right as Jon was leaving for class, my sweet Amberly Faith registered the pain in her legs all over again.

By the sound of her shrieking, it was like they were administering those awful shots time and time again. I would have them stick each of my legs ten times to take away that devastated cry, to remove her pain. My child is the most important part of me, and I lost my strength as I tried and failed to calm her tears. There was nothing I could do for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. There was no way I could remove the pain from my precious girl.

And today as I held her in the crook of my arm with my own tears streaming down my face, I remembered our first night in the hospital together. She was afraid and lonely in her little bed, and I pulled her in close to me whispering "Mama's here. Mama's here."

A glimpse into our future swept through my mind as I lay here with her today. I saw Amberly in grade school, then college, and then a grown woman. What future scenarios will bring her back to the crook of my arm, so I can try yet again to comfort my daughter? A favorite broken toy, a group of friends leaving her out, trying out for a team and not making it. A fool who might break her heart, or her agony knowing that she broke someone else's. As a married woman, will she have a hard time getting pregnant? Have a miscarriage? Lose a loved one? I saw each of these potential heartaches, and I saw her crying in the crook of my arm. I won't be able to take her pain away, but I will cry with her and hold her close. I will tell her yet again "Mama's here."

Because that is who my mother has always been. That is what a mother does. And that is what I will now always do. Today was not an easy day; it was heart-wrenching. But I took great comfort in knowing that the dreadful pain from her shots would not last forever. Eventually the pain in her legs will go away. Because just like everthing else, This Too Shall Pass.

I will have my happy, curious baby girl back in my arms in time.

Lesson number one on my journey of mothering. When my heart is breaking for my child and I cannot take the pain away, know that the moment will pass eventually. I will repeat that to myself over and over as I cry with her in the crook of my arm and stroke her beautiful face.

I am so grateful to be married to a man who honors his Priesthood, who quickly returned home when I called and asked for him to give her a blessing. It scared me to hear her cry like that for so long. God bless those with children who have chronic illnesses. 

The House that Built Me

Memories of my entire life and childhood echo within the walls of my now empty home in South Jordan. I think even without these pregnancy hormones flowing through my body, I'd still be pretty emotional about this transition. My parents moved in to this house when I was just one year old. This is the house that built me.

9674 Jordan Way
South Jordan, UT

My room throughout elementary and middle school, shared with my little sis.

My room throughout high school and whenever I came home from college.

A view of the upstairs hallway.

See I really wasn't as spoiled as you might think. I shared this bathroom with four older brothers. :-)

Mom and Dad's room

Okay maybe I was somewhat spoiled. Daddy bought me that baby grand right there. :-)

Our family room.

I forgot to get the dining room and the kitchen, but at least I snagged a couple of pictures of my home the last night I was there.

Forever my humble home.

How strange it will be to drive by my home and see someone else living there. I try not to think about the fact that my children will never know my home from my childhood and grade school years.

My parents are building a new home, just down the road from the house I grew up in. It is beautiful, and more accomodating for our growing family, and suits the needs of my parents as they grow older.

But I still shed a few tears saying goodbye to 9674 Jordan Way, especially when I listen to this song.

Ode to BYU International Folk Dance Ensemble

 

 Sometimes I find myself reflecting on the "glory days" - 2007 through 2009.

 

Ukrainian Hopak 

Classical Indian - My Favorite

 

 Modern Indian - Bollywood - Okay another favorite

Southern Waltz

 

Russian

 

Mo Li Hua - China

 

Some of the closest friends a girl could ever ask for.

 

                                       

Irish

My feet are in the middle. (My calves were always the wimpiest!)

 

 

Peforming our Pioneer Dance in Eastern Europe

 

Budapest, Hungary performance

 

 

Modern Clog

 

 

 

 

 

Traditional Clog

 

 

 

 Polish children attacking me after a show - a standstill moment.

 



Our good luck beauty marks for Slovakian

 

Seeing billboards of ourselves throughout mainland China!

They were the most warm and welcoming culture of people ever.

And I always get shivers when I think about the day that missionaries can finally proselyte there.

Feeling Famous.

 

Sisters.



 

 

And family.

 

I still have dreams of performing with each of you. And the adrenaline before every show, and a prayer to be a performing missionary on stage. And a burning desire to share light through the beauty of dance.

 

These were some of the happiest days of my life. This was my mission.

 

And while I refer to them as the "glory days" my soul was never complete until I met my other half- that amazing man I am so lucky to be married to. But I do miss belonging to you, dear Performing Arts Company of Brigham Young University, 2007-2009.