This morning, after a few hours of anxiety, everything changed and the sun started shining through my soul again.
The day began like any other, woke up started breakfast – except this time I turned on some LDS general conference talks while I prepared food.
There are things I’ve always known, but today I understood them.
One speaker quoted Neal A. Maxwell,
“Certain forms of suffering, endured well, can actually be ennobling. …
“… Part of enduring well consists of being meek enough, amid our suffering, to learn from our relevant experiences. Rather than simply passing through these things, they must pass through us … in ways which sanctify [us].”
I know I’ve sounded a bit like a broken record when it comes to trying to find the positive during difficult times, but I’ve passed through something that has given me new perspective on those who suffer depression throughout their life.
I have depression each time I’m pregnant…then I have had post-partum depression following the birth of each of my three children. So, beginning with my first pregnancy in late summer 2011 through, this month…I have constantly struggled [mightily] with things I didn’t quite understand for a long time.
The first time, I didn’t even know why I felt the way I did.
I wasn’t disappointed in the idea of having a baby, I just didn’t feel joy or excitement about anything. Things moms are supposed to feel.
When I held my firstborn after delivery I was in love at first sigh. I couldn’t sleep I was so happy.
The pure excitement and joy that followed the next eight months was in a constant battle with depression. All the changes in my life added to six solid months of no sleep and then eating little – it’s no wonder my brain was off balance.
Just before my first turned one, I got pregnant a second time. Several weeks later I miscarried. Six months following that, I was pregnant a third time and later gave birth to a second boy.
I love babies so much. Love them and yet…
I constantly felt like I was going to snap in half and I cried all the time. My husband couldn’t fix anything.
My fourth pregnancy (and third child) was a complete surprise.
A tender mercy my last pregnancy didn’t make me feel sick physically, but mentally I was still fighting a mess.
I was vacuuming my carpets three times a day. Three.
How did I manage to get along? I set my mind to face each day, to put one foot in front of the other and not give up, rest if I must, but not quit.
So, today, with a morning full of anxiety I heard, Elder Evan A Schmutz say,
“The purpose and mission of Jesus Christ included that He would “take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people,” “take upon him their infirmities,” and “succor his people according to their infirmities.”17
To fully receive these gifts our Savior has so freely offered, we all must learn that suffering in and of itself does not teach or grant to us anything of lasting value unless we deliberately become involved in the process of learning from our afflictions through the exercise of faith.
Then we can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland has taught: “There really is light at the end of the tunnel. It is the Light of the World, the Bright and Morning Star, the ‘light that is endless, that can never be darkened’ [Mosiah 16:9]. It is the very Son of God Himself.”20
We can take strength in knowing that all the hard experiences in this life are temporary; even the darkest nights turn into dawn for the faithful.
When all is finished and we have endured all things with faith in Jesus Christ, we have the promise that “God shall wipe away all [the] tears from [our] eyes.”21
Something about hearing those words sent light through my heart. I hope that hearing those words will send light through your heart.
I hope that we can all keep trying to be a little bit softer, a little bit kinder especially towards those things around us that we just don’t understand, yet.
Don’t give up, keep trying, you are loved. Things really aren’t as bad as they seem.
This summer raced by with record speed. My baby is officially eight months old today!
This breaks my heart just a bit, as she is the best, sweetest baby girl and I’m obviously going to need another baby sooner than I originally planned.
Because babies are my absolute favorite…and no, this is not a pregnancy announcement.
What on earth have I been doing this summer?
What have you been doing this summer?
I asked first…
Mostly just all the great mom things of laundry, dishes, cooking…I’ll be completely honest here and admit that I have not been reading many books to my kids this summer, there has been a lot more tv and I have zero guilt about this.
Last school year wore me out. Then in the spring I got pink eye and battled it all the way through July 4th weekend. I have not had any pink eye since that weekend, still have a bit of dry eye, but that is so much easier to deal with.
What we have had is lots of cuddles – indoors – lots of dirt in hair from the hours spent outside in the backyard, lots of forts. I got tired of putting the boy’s mattress back on the bed, so it’s still on their bedroom floor, surrounded by toys.
I’m gloriously less stressed these days.
I want to attribute the goodness in my life to God.
In the chaos of this world, He gives me peace and hope that good things will come.
In addition to having the support of my husband, the women of the Relief Society (the women’s organization from my church) have gone above and beyond to serve me here in Columbia, Missouri.
I hit the jack pot – and it’s not just the women in my LDS ward – there are women in surrounding wards who have served me too.
Those acts of service (making us dinner, taking my kids, swapping baby clothes, having us over to play, teaching my children) have lifted my load.
If only the news was full of the stories of these life transforming women – the world wouldn’t seem so dark to me – it would be the light of God’s love shinning. A beacon of hope for humanity.
The women I go to church with lift me with their testimonies, their compliments, their smiles, their friendship.
In return, those women let me take their picture. I wish I could tell their stories from a photojournalist point of view – as an alternative to the terribly distressing news as of late.
Motherhood (since I’m a mother)/Parenting takes a lot of work/sacrifice and without this village of helpful women I would have lost my mind long ago.
(Note about photos – all are SOOC (straight out of camera) photos – because I’m currently too poor for Adobe Lightroom or Photoshop.)
[Below are photos taken by a friend – with a nicer camera, nicer lens…nicer skills]
It helps to have a hobby.
Mine is record keeping. Family record keeping. Which is the main reason for blogging. It’s also why I love taking photos. I have made several family photo album books this year. It takes me awhile to make family yearbooks, but I enjoy reliving our time together as I pick through our photos from the year and write about our time spent together.
It is the reading of and looking through those memories that draw me nearer to my extended family and friends.
Anyone up for pictures? I can’t promise they will look mystically amazing, but I’d love the practice and you will have a moment of time captured forever of that day your three year old got gum stuck in his hair and your baby had poop up his back…
Today at church I briefly stood before my congregation and bore my testimony of God’s love, how sometimes in His love (and infinite wisdom) He asks us to do hard things…because He knows that it will make us strong.
Motherhood has been a struggle for me lately. Particularly with my first born. He is determined to help me be strong. Really strong.
After my testimony, I returned to my seat. Wiley was so happy to see me and said, very enthusiastically, “Mom, you did a great job!” followed by a sweet little boy kiss.
Floating – his kiss and exclamation had me floating the rest of the day! (much like the hot air balloon we saw fly over our home.)
God sent me a strong willed, funny, intelligent, happy, passionate, particular and loving boy we call, ‘Wiley.’
Wiley turned 4 years old last week.
Lord knows time is flying and somedays it doesn’t fly fast enough to bedtime…
I am well and healthy today, but the entire month of April I was sick. So, as Wiley’s birthday neared, I knew he wouldn’t care if he had a party, but I wanted his day to feel really special. I wanted him to know I thought he was special.
He started his day with cartoons. I had blown up several orange balloons to litter the floor and got him four floating balloons and two dinosaur puzzles.
[go Dollar General!!!]
I had to coax him away from the TV for a morning outing – just with mom.
I took him to the grocery store and let him pick out anything he wanted! Cause, I’m money bags like that.
The birthday boy wanted fresh strawberries, raspberries, whipped cream and donuts.
He also wanted a “grown-up sippy cup” (those plastic drinking glasses with straws/screw on lids) colored orange. The boy likes orange.
I’m pretty sure most of his t-shirts are orange.
Kind of fits his personality.
After our breakfast outing, he wanted to put his dinosaur puzzles together with me. He and his little brother had hours of fun playing with the balloons. I read some books…and I let him play on the iPad, because that was just what he wanted!
Daddy took Wiley and Tyler to the “big slide park” for about two hours later in the day.
(I love, LOVE, when Dan takes them to the park – no bedtime troubles – and quiet time for mom.)
The grand finale to the birthday boy’s day was after the two babies went to bed.
Daddy made a fire in the fire ring and they roasted marshmallows!
It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten marshmallows, they aren’t my favorite.
We didn’t have cake, I pointed them out in the store, but he wanted donuts for breakfast and marshmallows for dessert; who am I to argue with the birthday King?!
Wiley stayed up late. I wish I could say it was way past his usual bedtime, but he typically refuses sleep until around 10pm every night, so it was business as usual.
Wiley finally passed out on the bed next to mommy and his sleeping baby sister.
Dan and I agreeing on a name when I was six months pregnant, was the soonest we decided on a name.
We had driven down to Texas for my sister’s August wedding, so we had ample time to talk names.
On our drive back to Missouri, Danny had his cellphone out and was telling me all the cool bird names he liked (because I really like the name Birdie, and we were trying to find a bird name for awhile).
I smile when I hear ‘Kestrel’…my youngest sister could have been Kestrel.
So, from Houston, TX to Tulsa, Oklahoma, Danny and I tossed names back and forth. Separately, he and I decided we liked the name Bell, but not as a first name.
Our little family made a really fast stop in Tulsa to stretch our legs and visit a close friend of mine.
My friend Rachel happens to now work at our alma mater, The University of Tulsa. It being August, the football team was in the middle of their two-a-day practices.
So, our brief stop was in the football training room to catch up with Rachel.
As she and I were catching up, one of the long time Orthopedic Doc’s came into the training room and joined our conversation.
I think some things are truly meant to be.
Out of no-where, Rachel says to Dr. M, “So Katie and her husband are having a hard time choosing a name for their baby girl.”
Dr. M has been a long time friend of my mother’s family, so when he got a sparkle in his eye and said, “I know a nice name.” I knew he was going to say, “Adrien.”
Dr. M’s wife died of cancer in her early forties, and I have heard, for many years from my Grandmother, what a lovely and gracious lady she was. He never remarried and adopted The University of Tulsa athletics as his family (in addition to his children).
Rachel and Dr M said how they liked the sound of Adrien (how his wife spelled her name) with our last name.
An hour later, Dan and I back in the truck swapping names again, I asked Danny what he thought of the name Adrien.
He said he liked it!
Dan looked up the origin of the name, depending on where you look, “dark one” or “one who comes from Adria” which makes way more sense to me.
Adria is on the north eastern coast of Italy, sitting on the Adriatic Sea.
Now that Dan is neck deep with research in Water Engineering, it only makes sense that he said, “if we spell it ‘Adrian’ after the body of water.”
And that is how our sweet little Adrian Bell came to be named.
Alert, Smiles all day, babbling, a great sleeper (when she isn’t sick) and trying to get up and walk to keep up with the boys.
I laid in bed two nights ago asking God why I was so sick, again. After three weeks with a vacillating cold (started with the head, made it’s way to chest), I got the stomach flu…
Thanks to God, it was not nearly as bad as Danny had it; poor guy.
But, I laid in bed pondering on what I did to enrage God that He would inflict me so and with a new baby?
The prophet Job came to mind. Job was a good man and he was truly afflicted.
(You have to forgive me for feeling so pathetic, I was having a low).
Then it occurred to me that I needed to have the flu to protect my precious baby!
Before I began having symptoms, my body was already producing antibodies that my baby got through the breastmilk! So, God is pretty much a genius. I’m grateful it was me – it is so tough to watch a baby suffer.
I would take this bitter pill any day to protect my children!
With my new perspective on being ill, I decided to embrace life and watch The Office on Netflix.
By the time I started throwing up, Danny was feeling better and was able to watch the boys. Wiley got an overload of screen time and watched Octonauts all day and Tyler destroyed things…but I didn’t have to stress about the imperfections of the day, because I got to rest.
Another bright spot to the day yesterday was a friend who brought over the best remedy to fight any illness: homemade chicken noodle soup, homemade bread, oranges, Saltines and Perrier.
It was probably no big deal for her, but it meant the world to me.
After a day and a half of rest, I was able to get my camera out for baby girl’s two month photos.
Now that we are all on the road to full health, I have a lot of projects I want to get started…I’ve decided to repaint my dining room chairs, again.
I am so done being pregnant for a while – which means I might get a chance to get my house in order.
The last thing I remember was, I had a baby…the other baby in August of 2014. Then, I was having a baby.
About the time I got serious about getting back in shape in Jan/Feb of 2015, I joined a beach body fitness group…my entire family had whooping cough (yes we’d been vaccinated, thanks).
Sick as a person with whooping cough, who is taking care of two small people with whooping cough, can be – I still started my fitness challenge the day the rest of the group did.
A month into my fitness challenge, I was growing another human again.
I was eating well, just got off antibiotics, and exercising regularly – so I couldn’t figure out why I was so tired.
Well, truth be told, I knew (deep down) that I was pregnant, but hadn’t excepted or tested the fact yet.
Here I am less than a year later with another baby laying next to me. My brain is not… what it is capable of being. I can’t remember some people’s names, I can’t recall words I used to know (I think I still know them, somewhere in there…) and every day feels like yesterday.
We’ve had a wedding, births, deaths (in my extended family), holidays in all those yesterdays. Where has today gone? Just another yesterday now.
My husband has been just as tired and overworked as I am. This winter vacation has been such a blessed and lazy affair.
We have had a very short visit to see my family this break and a weekend visit with Danny’s parents.
I was mind boggling tired with each visit and forgot to get pictures of my kids with their grandparents!! I was so grateful for the time we had together.
I’m enjoying this “honeymoon” of sorts with a(nother) new baby! The long days just cuddling are slowly fading and I’m slowly pulling myself together.
It’s good to exercise my mind again – with the whole blogging thing – and having just looked at a calendar, I can see that today is Monday…January 2016!
Wishing you all the best while facing your trials and reaping your blessings of another year.
If you’re looking for excitement, go back and read about the birth of my first child, because this story isn’t all that wild and that’s how I like to keep my labor/delivery from here on out.
I was only about 37 weeks pregnant when the pain of carrying this baby became sharp and stabbing…in all the most uncomfortable places.
My official due date was November 30th, but the stabbing pains – and convenience of my husband having all of Thanksgiving break off from school – made my decision to be induced an entire week early that much easier.
Anxiously I made arrangements for my two little boys to have safe places to go while I lay in the hospital hooked up to the IV.
The small village of women I know are so fabulous (I was still anxious about not being with my boys all day and leaving them with friends) and I really had nothing to worry about – those boys had a good day and didn’t even notice I was gone.
My mom drove into town the night before induction – she and I got about 3 hours of sleep – before we arrived at the hospital at 5am.
Months leading up to the induction, I prayed and prayed for good nursing staff. The nurses can make or ruin a birthing experience. It all hinges on good nurses.
Prayers were answered each day of my hospital stay. Each shift, I was blessed with exceptional nursing care.
[I even got the same anesthesiologist from last year! Who I absolutely loved!]
When I’m anxious I tend to be more silly and I requested that my labor nurse have a good sense of humor. Not only did I get the Charge Nurse on the unit, but she was everything I wanted/needed, including an afterbirth DJ.
What?? Afterbirth DJ?
We named our little girl Adrian.
She is not named after the character in the movie Rocky, but I do happen to like that movie.
So, throughout the day my mom is giving my siblings the play by play via text message (with photos) of how I’m doing, I said, “mom, as soon as she is born, you need to caption the photo ‘Yo Adrian, WE DID IT!'”
That’s when the nurse said, “someone needs to download the Rocky song and play it when she comes out.”
We all laughed, “yeah, that would be funny, good idea.”
Meanwhile, it’s 1 o’clock and I’m still sitting somewhere around 4 to 5 cm dilated and the nurse says I’ll check you again at 3pm.
Ugh. Another long induction.
Close to 2pm I asked Danny if we could watch a movie on his laptop. He had left the laptop charger at home and asked if he had time to run home and get it. I told him, “yeah, probably.”
The nurse happened to walk in right as Dan was standing up to leave and I asked the nurse to check me again, just in case, because I wanted Danny to run home.
Well, I was 7 cm dilated and apparently moving fast now. So Danny sat down, nurse got the birth cart ready and paged the doctor.
1o mins later my OB was in my room chatting with us, camped out and not headed anywhere because I was progressing really fast.
Mom had the bed in the sitting position and I was mid conversation with my doctor when I had this overwhelming urge to vomit.
“I think I’m in transition, I feel like throwing up!”
[As Danny would later quote from Wayne’s World, “if you’re gunna spew, spew in this.” picture a Dixie Cup]
Mom handed me a trash can – doctor gowned up – I did some deep breathing and Danny was rubbing my back.
I didn’t end up spewing – I did end up pushing for less than 10 minutes and out came our little Adrian.
Moments after she was placed into my arms, my nurse played the Rocky theme song from her phone.
It was kind of a perfect moment, within a perfect moment.
This baby was a lovely surprise.
She is really heavenly, not a crier, loves to sleep all day and eat all night.
Her first four days of life I averaged three hours of sleep each day and it has been worth every sleepless moment.