"Jane"

After Jane passed, someone told me that they learned the best way to help someone grieving is to let them say the name of the one they lost. I have found this to be very true. Every opportunity I get to talk about Jane makes me smile. I feel happier and like 10 pounds of sadness was lifted from my shoulders. Others remembering her and saying her name has the same effect.

The further out we get in our grieving, the less and less I feel like I can talk about her. Like she is in past and it's too uncomfortable for others to bring her into the present. But she is MY present. She is my future. She is as much a part of my identity as my name is. Even more so actually, I can change my name. But I cannot ever change that Jane is my daughter.

Our mortal eyes may see this pregnant lady with two boys and think I am having my third child, but I am having my fourth. They may not see that I have already been blessed with a daughter, but I have. I have four kids; 3 sons and 1 daughter.

I am very fortunate to have many people in my life that let me talk about Jane in casual conversation. That when I talk about my children, or each pregnancy, each delivery, struggling with taking care of 3 kids, etc. they know that includes Jane. She is constantly on my mind and talking about her is just natural being her mom.

I have been more able to leave her out of our family count to passing strangers or in light-hearted conversations with people who don't know about her yet. It used to make me nauseous, my head spin and my skin would tingle when I was asked, "How many kids do you have?",
"Oh three boys! Maybe you will get a daughter next!",
 "So you just have the two?"

Whenever I am hit with those comments now (and yes it feels like a punch), I am able to just respond "yep" and leave it at that. With Jane in the forefront of my brain during the whole interaction. It is sometimes not worth the immensely awkward bomb of, "I have a daughter. She died a year ago."

Thank you for letting me talk about her. Thank you for letting me keep this blog going so I have a place to share her with everyone. Thank you for not making me move on because the death of a baby is just too hard to talk and hear about. Thank you for asking me questions about Jane.

Most especially, thank you for having moments of letting her touch your heart.  And when you feel appropriate sharing them with me. That is the greatest gift you can give me. Let her matter, let her change you for the better.

My Waiting Place

Last year I thought it would be the worst year of them all. Our wounds and pain were so raw and fresh and new. But there was a lot of learning, love and progression in that first year of losing Jane. Our lows were very low, but in contrast our highs were very high. 

I haven't written much on here lately because I haven't felt inspired by anything that I felt would be worthwhile. Like I said, last year we grew and learned a lot. I had a lot of things running through my brain all the time. 

I suppose it was naive to think last year was just one to get through and we would have made it through the worst of it all. 

Last year was trying to find our new normal. It was like trying to survive without a limb. It was a very difficult adjustment, but made easier through many inspiring tender mercies, many prayers in our behalf, many notes and texts and messages of love and concern.

This year is just as hard but in a different and unexpected way. I feel like I'm stuck in some painful waiting place. Just stagnant. Jane feels farther and farther in the past but also even further into our future. We are stuck somewhere in the middle waiting for her. Our wounds aren't as fresh but they are still there. Very much so. Our limb is still missing and we have learned to manage without it, but life is still painful and difficult. A part of me misses the pain, because at least I felt alive. And it was always followed by powerful moments of feeling Jane near. 

This murky waiting place is more numb. Less acute pain, but also less acute joy. 

I have noticed in the last few months I, again, am a person I don't recognize. This "waiting place" has left me unsure of who I am, what I am supposed to do and how to deal with this new me. Is it a phase that will get better with time or is my character different? These are the questions that take up most of my brain lately. How to find and force progression in myself and my life despite feeling stuck.

Navigating through grief is messy. There are so, so many levels of grief. Many twists, turns and backslides. It's hard to distinguish what is grief, what is depression, what is pregnancy, and what is just the dross of everyday life. This is my great battle right now. I suppose finding my "new normal" is going to take a lot longer than expected. 

I refuse to settle though. I refuse to believe this is how my life will be forever. I know better and I deserve better. One of my dearest friends shared with me how important remembering is. In these stagnant times of my life, I have a hard time seeing beyond a fog surrounding me. I can always remember who I was in the past. My experiences who made me who I am now. The powerful and sacred instances that my Savior and Heavenly Father were so close to my heart that I knew there was much more in this life yet to come. ""O, remember remember..."

Chasing Simplicity

A year ago we were trying to get through our first Christmas without Jane. It was difficult figuring out our new normal, our wounds of grief were fresh and painful. But we were still in our "bubble" of spiritual strength. You know that feeling around you after you have a new baby in your home? Our bubble was just like that but magnified. Heaven was around us and carrying us. We were surrounded by so much faith and love and service, both on earth and heaven. We felt so many people cheering us on. We had several packages coming every day, so many prayers and texts and gifts and visitors to help us feel buoyed up. Last Christmas was hard, but definitely our most spiritually centered one yet. 

I thought this year would be easier because I had survived one Christmas before. It was easier in the sense that Jane's death isn't so fresh and new. But this Christmas season was just a difficult as last. With neighbor treats to bake, Christmas cards to mail, gifts to buy, packages to wrap, several (Fourteen!!)  holiday parties to attend, suitcases to pack, hundreds of miles to drive and all the busy-ness that comes with Christmas. All of those things are nice and fun, but our simple Christ-centered Christmas we felt last year seemed to slip away too easily from us. 

I craved that last Christmas. We just cherished every quiet moment with our little  family and felt connected to Jane. This year in the rush of meeting all the Christmas to-do's it was hard to feel her near. 

The weeks leading up to Christmas were a whirlwind and I had to intentionally schedule time for myself to just be still. It was more difficult to find still moments then rushed moments. I was reminded of an incredible conference talk by President Uchtdorf several years ago. Finally, on Christmas evening, after getting to a point where I wasn't a person I recognized or enjoyed being. I lost my emotions to a pillow; I gave myself the time, even though I felt like I should be doing a half dozen other things, to read it again. The talk is called "Of Things That Matter Most." 

I realized this month how badly I NEED quiet, calm and relaxed time every day. I cannot handle an over scheduled life. It makes me, grumpy, stressed and anxious and I lose the closeness of the Holy Ghost that I desperately need to endure this life. I don't feel Jane near me often, but the only times I ever have felt her near were in those alone and quiet moments. There has never been a busy, franctic day when I have felt her close. There is a lesson to be learned in that. There are many opportunities for growth in our lives that we are missing out on because we have overscheduled ourselves. 

"Let’s be honest; it’s rather easy to be busy. We all can think up a list of tasks that will overwhelm our schedules. Some might even think that their self-worth depends on the length of their to-do list. They flood the open spaces in their time with lists of meetings and minutia—even during times of stress and fatigue. Because they unnecessarily complicate their lives, they often feel increased frustration, diminished joy, and too little sense of meaning in their lives." (President Dieter F. Uchtdorf "Of Things That Matter Most") 

It will be my personal goal this next year, and especially next December, to simplify life. To chase after simplicity because it is harder to find than busy. And for now I will enjoy one of my favorite months, January. 

When I was first married my Mother In Law taught me one of my favorite lessons. For years January was dreaded because all the fun holidays were over. She taught me January was the beautiful calm after the storm. A time to just be and reflect and enjoy life. I love January! "Of Things That Matter Most"

Reality check: I'm still the mom of an angel baby

Today is hard. So often people tell me I am so strong, I handle losing my baby with grace and faith. And it's always nice to hear that, but sometimes I just want people to see a reality check on my life. Some days, I just can't move. I can't focus. I want to lay in bed all day. I'm so emotionally exhausted that my body aches. I have strong boughts of anxiety wondering, "what will happen next?" I live in this reality where "it probably would never happen" really happens. Losing your daughter totally unexpectedly to an illness that still nobody can figure out is highly improbable, but it's my reality. 

I worry sometimes that other angel moms read posts I have written that are optimistic and feel like they are failing somehow. That they compare their bad days to my good days and think that they just aren't strong enough. That would be the opposite of what I ever wanted someone to learn from my experience. 

I am human, my heart breaks over and over and over, I cry hard, I wish she was here again, I get depressed seeing toddler girl toys that I won't get to buy my princess for Christmas this year. I have these days too. I'm not superhuman. 

So here is my reality check post. For myself, for other angel moms and for my friends. Unfortunately, I don't live graciously and thankfully every day. Today is just another day I can say that I survived. And not much more. 

The Power In Women

Today as I sat in the women's meeting at church I learned a seemingly obvious, but powerful message. It's not that I didn't know this before, but I really understood it today. The instructor asked us to think of and share an example of a woman that has influenced our life. I'm pretty sure every eye was wet in the room as examples of gentle, but influential women were shared. 

As a group of about 40 women sat crying together I could see the real power in women. In our tears we all recognized the most influential women in each of our lives were the gentle, loving, kind and sympathetic ones. 

Today I really learned that women are powerful! Powerfully compassionate. Powerfully selfless. Powerfully sympathetic. Powerfully faithful. Powerfully noble. Powerfully gentle. I could list a hundred more attributes, but you get the picture.

In a society that is well-intentioned in trying to make everything between women and men equal, we tend to sometimes miss the point. Us women do not need to feel inferior to men because we are different. We have some qualities that are similar, but why can't we be proud and embrace that women tend to be more compassionate and tender-hearted then men? That certainly doesn't make us less important that we sympathize and care for people in a different way. Though impressive and praise-worthy, we don't need to command armies, rule a nation or even a corporation to have the most lasting and sincere positive influence on this world. In fact as we all thought about the women who we are grateful to for their example, not a single politician or CEO was named. It was mothers, grandmothers, church leaders from our youth, neighbors, teachers, and friends who found us in our most desparate times and never gave up on us. 

"When the real history of mankind is fully disclosed, will it feature the echoes of gunfire or the shaping sound of lullabies? The great armistices made by military men or the peacemaking of women in homes and in neighborhoods? Will what happened in cradles and kitchens prove to be more controlling than what happened in congresses? When the surf of the centuries has made the great pyramids so much sand, the everlasting family will still be standing." -Neil L Maxwell 

I love being a woman! I love that I cry easily for my friends and family when they are in pain or turmoil. I love that I see ways to serve others. I love that I think of friends who are struggling and take a moment to pray for them. None of these make me weaker or any less important then my husband who is literally keeping people alive in surgery. In fact, he may save lives but I can create them. I love that my strengths, while different then Bryan's, can match in magnitude to his. 

November

The reality of this month has come crashing into my life today and found itself a spot to reside in my heart and nerves for about 4 weeks.

Jane's birthday on October 1st was tough for me, I anticipated it being really hard but hoped the anticipation would be worse then the actual day. It wasn't, the whole day was just trying to survive. I really did love all the #elizajanelove that was spread that day. It made me feel less alone, more loved and that Jane still lives in so many people's hearts. But the sadness and anxiety of what I didn't have was still almost too much to bear.

As we are exactly two weeks away from the anniversary of Jane becoming an angel, my mind floods with vivid memories and flashbacks of that horrific day, my nerves are on edge, my body aches to feel her body again. The further out we get, the less I can remember the feel of her tiny body, and that breaks my heart.

I have said about a dozen times already today I just want to skip this month. I want to decorate for Christmas tomorrow and pretend that November doesn't exist. I don't know how I am supposed to survive this month again. I don't know what is expected of me and what I need to learn, but right now I don't want it. I want this month to just be any other 11th month of the year and not have any special significance to our family.

But as I was perusing Facebook, something really struck my attention. Someone asked the question, "How early is too early to put up Christmas?". The response from someone that they love having a month and holiday completely dedicated to seeking out their blessings and recognizing them helped me realize I need that in my life right now. November we celebrate gratitude and the many things we do have in our life. And that is probably what I need to combat the attitude of focusing on what I don't have.

An apostle from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints said in a talk this last April, "It might sound contrary to the wisdom of the world to suggest that one who is burdened with sorrow should give thanks to God. But those who set aside the bottle of bitterness and lift instead the goblet of gratitude can find a purifying drink of healing, peace, and understanding." -Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf

I do have a literal perfect daughter. She has attained heaven and all it's blessings without having to endure the trials and suffering of this life. I have two sons who adore and love their baby sister with all their giant hearts. I do have a husband who is pretty much the epitome of perfection packaged into a hot little gift for me. I do have legions of angels on earth and in heaven who constantly surround me with their love. I do have the indescribable joy of getting to have my daughters spirit that is full of the purest love come visit and comfort me in my times of deep sorrow. My daughter has become my greatest spiritual teacher. I learn from her and she comforts me. Our roles have been reversed for a time.

I will try to continue in my month of gratitude because I need it. We all need it. In the seasons of our life when we feel desolate and empty, how much more do we need to force ourselves to see the good that still exists?  

"How much of life do we miss by waiting to see the rainbow before thanking God that there is rain?" -Elder Uchtdorf

Part of that gratitude just may be gratitude for free agency to put up Christmas whenever I want. I love Christmas and it makes my heart happy. I can be grateful with some snowmen and angels around, right?

I Can Do Hard Things

I wrote up a post several days ago updating on our family situation. It has weighed on me the last couple days and I haven't felt like I should publish it. This has never happened, I have never felt so conflicted about whether I should publish a post. 

To sum up the last post; I haven't been well. Pregnancy is a hard thing for me. Being sick and tired constantly are hard enough, but my anxiety has been the worst of it. It has been barely tolerable at best, and totally dibilitating at times. Laying in bed for hours waiting for a moment when my anxiety eases to fall asleep, then waking up at 4 am to a panic attack every single day isn't the best way to start your morning. 

I asked Bryan to give me a priesthood blessing a week ago, the night before Jane's birthday and also the night before my first OB appointment. What Bryan and I both felt was that this pregnancy is a trial I have the opportunity to grow from. That through this deep trial, I will have compassion and appreciation for those around me who experience similar symptoms in pregnancy. 

That honestly is not what I wanted to hear and I have dug my heels in, said enough is enough and I want to be better. But that didn't work either. 

Today I have watched two Mormon Messages videos that have brought me back to humility and helped me remember that Heaveny Father did not leave me comfortless after I lost Jane and He isn't going to start now.

 The first lesson I learned is: I am enough. I don't need to impress anyone with my put-together house and cute outfit. I don't owe anyone an explanation to why I haven't had makeup on in over a week or why my son watches 3 hours of tv a day so I can take a nap. My love for my family is enough. My messy, but mostly sanitary, house is enough. My strength to just play for a little bit and then let the boys play on their own for most of the day is enough. 

The second lesson I learned today is: I have the power to endure. Every morning for the last month I wake up feeling like I will explode, but so far I have kept living another day. The power I have is enough to make it through another pregnancy. I can endure this because I have enough faith that my Heavenly Father loves me and has a greater plan for me than I have for myself. 

Some may think it logical to question God's existence at this point, after all He isn't answering my prayer the way I want Him to. But I have felt the reality of my Heavenly Father in such miraculous and sacred ways this year it would be so short-sighted of me to turn away now. Especially when I obviously need divine comfort more then ever. He has answered prayers with such mercy and love I can certainly try to have a little faith for a few months while I pass through another trial. 

Just like any parent teaching a child a difficult lesson...learning to ride a bike or eating healthy food...the difficulty yields greater blessings. In these cases; having fun and growing a healthy body. 

I can survive this pregnancy because I can do hard things