Laughing

Tonight the kids and I were sitting around the table eating a bedtime snack and I was curious as to what Cade's pear tasted like, by the look on his face. I bit into it. There were no words to describe the intensely-sour flavor. It was so deceiving, I began to laugh. Jefferson wanted to taste it. The face he pulled made me laugh even harder. "What kind of a pear is that?!?!" he forced out, as it had the same effect on him that it had on Cade and me. Soon Kilee wanted in on the fun. Each time one of us took a bite, the laughter grew. I sat there belly-laughing with my kids, over this sour pear that was now almost gone, and suddenly realized I was laughing, and how amazingly awesome it felt to be experiencing an extreme emotion other than anguish!

 For months now I've been trying to get used to this new me I'm being shaped into, and I feel so foreign to myself.  I was relieved to see that there is still a piece of the old Sara, resurfacing. Experiencing this tonight gave me hope for the first time since Tesslee passed, that I won't always have to fake the smiles, there really is genuine happiness to be felt in the future, and I am on the right track. I'm so glad my kids saw their mom laughing that hard. I hope Tesslee saw it, too, and was laughing right along with us.

Tesslee,

This whole day was so hard to get through. I did a very good job keeping myself distracted, but in the end I wasn't strong enough to hold it in any longer. I locked myself in the bathroom, turned the vent on, and sobbed for you. I miss your little legs so much. And your toes, I wish I had brought them to my lips and kissed them. I would do so much over. I wouldn't've let them take you away and dress you. I would've dressed you myself. And I would've turned you around and looked at your little back and bottom. That is something that will always be a mystery to me. My own baby and I never saw your little bottom, diaperless. I keep trying to relive in my mind those two days I held you tight and slept with you next to me, anything to give me comfort. Why didn't I take any pictures of me holding your hand? Your fingers were so perfect. I had no idea how much a heart could hurt. I wish I were buying size newborn diapers for you. I wish I was spending money on your diapers! I wish I was up all night feeding and rocking you and giving you my love. I wish I was lugging around your cute, new diaper bag and your car seat carrier. I wish I could say that I have five kids without people squirming and quickly changing the subject. I wish I could have you back. Even for just one more hour. I would open your sleeping eyelids and see your beautiful eyes. I kept waiting for you to move, for your eyes to open. You were holding so still. Babies aren't supposed to hold that still. Why did you leave me? I am going to bed and I hope when I wake up you will still be with me.

My Grief and the Atonement

The past few weeks I've really struggled with going to church. It has been very hard placing myself where there are babies Tesslee's age all around. When I have gone, the tears have just flowed uncontrollably at any given time, and it is embarrassing to face the many, caring people stopping to ask what is wrong and what they can do to help... as well as my children loudly pointing out, "Mom, you've been crying again, huh."

A few weeks ago I became discouraged and decided it would be easier to just stay at home and have my own personal Sunday in the "emotional safety" of my home until I can get my emotions in check. Something got me back to church today, however, and I am so very relieved and grateful I went. I left church feeling like I had just sat through the most successful counseling session possible, and I was ready to tackle this week with my new insight and strength. I have not felt this strong in weeks. I hate to think what this next week would've been like had I not been in church today.

Something that has been weighing on my mind has been my thoughts on grief and how grief works into the Atonement. I thought that when I use the Atonement and I turn my grief and pain over to the Savior, who has already suffered it for me, my pain would be lifted and taken away from me and I would be able to go on free from the grief. This has bothered me though, and I have been reluctant to fully use the Atonement, since I want to feel my grief. I love my Tesslee and feel like by grieving for her it keeps her close to me and in my heart. My grief is tied to her. It is a part of her. And I do not want to give it up. But by feeling this way I think I am being ungrateful and faithless to my Savior for His sacrifice for me. So I have been torn and not fully committed to using the power of the Atonement to help get me through this.

One of the hymns we sang today in sacrament meeting was I Believe in Christ. As I read the words and listened to the music, my soul was touched, and the Comforter taught me something about the Atonement.

Verse 4:

I believe in Christ; he stands supreme!

From him I’ll gain my fondest dream;

And while I strive through grief and pain,
His voice is heard: “Ye shall obtain.”

I believe in Christ; so come what may,

With him I’ll stand in that great day

When on this earth he comes again

To rule among the sons of men.

 

(Hymn #134)

Text: Bruce R. McConkie, 1915–1985. © 1972 IRI

Music: John Longhurst, b. 1940. © 1985 IRI

 

As I read those lines, the Spirit spoke to my heart. It was like a thought felt inside my heart instead of in my mind. It impressed on me that using the Atonement will not take my grief and pain away. That is mine to feel and keep. I will "strive" (meaning, struggle, fight or contend) through the grief and pain of this experience probably my whole life, but the power of the Atonement (through my faith) will strengthen my soul and make my burdened heart feel light and will enable me that I can carry this. Christ can be right there with me, if I will allow Him. If there was no struggle and my grief and pain were just removed, there would be no growth, no refiner's fire, and this experience would all be in vain.

 

I thought about Tesslee, what I've been through, and how much I've learned and how far I've already come, and immediately saw the importance in the struggle of grieving. It made so much sense to me! Feeling grief is not something I should be ashamed of. It is important to grieve. It is a necessary part of opposition and growth. But it doesn't have to encompass me, the way I've felt it has lately.

 

I am so grateful I was where I needed to be today to receive this inspiration. I know that if I had stayed home and had my own personal Sunday by myself, my heart would still be troubled and I would not feel the peace and comfort the Comforter has given me. I'm starting to realize how important it is to meet together weekly, partake of the sacrament, strengthen each other, and let the Spirit speak to us and teach us in ways we can't learn on our own.

 

The final Hymn we sang today was Where Can I Turn For Peace? Every word touched my heart and I felt so grateful to have been led to these songs today. I am realizing through all of this, that my Heavenly Father is merciful and kind, and offers answers and love, even when I am undeserving of it.

 

 Where Can I Turn for Peace?

 

Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart,
Searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows,
Where, when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant he is and kind,
Love without end.

                          

(Hymn #129) 

 Text: Emma Lou Thayne, b. 1924. © 1973 IRI

Music: Joleen G. Meredith, b. 1935. © 1973 IRI

Pure Joy

I cannot even describe my joy. I was looking at some pictures we took ourselves, right after Tesslee was born, and decided to crop, zoom in and explore certain things I've been really missing lately... her little hands and feet. I thought I had these pictures memorized, but when I zoomed in on her little details, it completely changed the pictures to me, and I was in Heaven just seeing what felt like new pictures of my beautiful baby!

 I just sat there staring at her precious fingers and toes, trying to feel with my mind how it would feel to hold her hand and tickle her toes again. I went to bed completely satisfied and actually giddy, after having another peek at my beautiful daughter. I laid there and thought about what indescribable joy the Resurrection will hold for all of us angel moms, when we finally(!!!!!) get to meet the babies we already know so well in our hearts and minds. I am basking in pure joy and loving every second of this thought.

 

 

Why.

Well, I would not be true to myself if did not post the feelings I've had the last few days. I've been so angry. I'm so mad that I don't have my baby with me. Why is this even a trial? Losing a baby should not even exist as a trial. It's so wrong on every level. Babies symbolize new life. They are the beginning. The end should not happen before the beginning. Why? Why would God allow me to get my hopes and dreams up, love my little girl with my entire heart, feel her kicking and alive, get our kids so excited to have another sister, when He knew we would not be bringing her home with us. He knew all along. Why? I have had so many people tell me, "You will be so much stronger after this... You are learning so much from this trial... The real test is how we choose to embrace our trials, etc..." Well, I guess I'm failing, then. I've felt so weak lately. I don't want to come out stronger, I just want my baby back.

I shouldn't be feeling like this. I know I should not blame God. I am better than this. This is so hard!

5 Months

I really can't believe its been five months since I held Tesslee in my arms. Five months, really? That seems like such a long time. It makes me nervous because it is nearing six months, and coming up on that half a year mark just messes me up. I still feel like it should be March right now. It makes me sad that life doesn't stop with me. Maybe that is a good thing, and its designed not to stop, to keep us going when we can't see ourselves taking another step. Maybe it drags us along so we will have a fighting chance at getting back into life at some point.

I heard a perspective from another angel mom that has helped me get through the last few days. It's a beautiful way of turning something difficult into something hopeful:

Its been five months since I held you in my arms, Tesslee, and I'm now five months closer to when I will see you again! I love you, my angel!

Dreams

The last two nights I've had dreams about Tesslee, which have made my emotions run high all day.

 A couple nights ago in my dream I relived something I had really done back in December. I received one of those sample sizes of formula from a Welcome Baby package at my first prenatal appointment. You know how excited you are when you get that? It puts things into perspective. I remember thinking, This is for real! We are really going to have another baby around the house! I kept it on the counter for a few days, just to enjoy seeing it, and then tucked it under the sink in a safe place I would find it when I needed it.

Well, my dream relived that and all those excited emotions  that came with that little can of formula. My dream went a little further and I now was making Tesslee a bottle and was looking everywhere for that can. I could not find it anywhere and Tesslee really needed it, but I couldn't remember where I had stashed it. Last night I was really looking for something under the sink and found the little can of formula I was trying so hard to locate in my dream, the night before.  How strange to come across it the very next day, when I haven't seen it in months. It hit me all over again. This was Tesslee's first little item. And it brought me so much joy thinking about her using it up. And she never will. It made me so sad! I just put it back under the sink and tried to collect myself. I think it will stay there as long as we live here. It belongs to Tesslee.

I don't know if those emotions brought on my dream about Tesslee last night, or what. I haven't had dreams about her for months. And to have two in a row is really weird. I don't know if this dream made me happy or sad. But it is frozen in my mind and I remember everything about it and wished many times today that it was real.

Last night I dreamed that I was holding Tesslee. She was full term and beautiful and alive. I just kept cuddling her and kissing her and looking at her beautiful body I had missed for so long! I couldn't stop looking at how beautiful she was. Her little features were just as I remember them. And the best part was that she wasn't someone else's baby that I had to give back. She was my very own Tesslee. My perfect baby and I didn't have to say goodbye to her.  I never let her go. She was safe in my arms and was mine forever. Oh,  how I miss her beyond words!!!

It's one thing to feel the pain and heartache, myself. But to try and comfort my child who has tears rolling down his face, saying he doesn't want to wait anymore to see Tesslee, is almost more than I can bear.

Steps

This week I have felt life slowly trickling back into me, and it really does feel good. It's been almost five months since Tesslee passed away, and almost five months of having no desire to cook meals, listen to the radio, watch movies, exercise, or do anything I used to enjoy. Its just been a blur. Last month I remember feeling so discouraged that I had lost the desire to do things I once liked, discouraged that this was my new life. The only thing my heart has really been into is anything Tesslee-related.

Well, this week something changed. I had this strange urge to fix dinner. One night, lasagna...then chicken stir fry,... and then, meat and potatoes. Today, I even made 2 loaves of whole wheat bread! That is a HUGE deal for me.  And it made me happy. I can tell life is finding its way back. I was thinking about how long it really has been, and its been about 10 months of just getting by. The first five I was pregnant and staying away from cooking, the last five I've been grieving and haven't felt like cooking. So these meals are such a big deal!

I think I might be moving into another stage of grief. Maybe I'm starting to accept Tesslee's short little life and death, and am realizing that there is nothing I can do about it, it is what it is. I don't know. I am on a roller coaster, though. Hmmm. I guess we'll see, but I have to acknowledge these steps, and I am so proud of myself!

Seeing Things Differently

One thing that's been popping in and out of my mind the last few days is the first thing I realized that Tesslee taught me. When I think about the drive home from the doctor's office after receiving the news that she was gone, I still wonder how I made it home. I remember gripping the steering wheel, and trying so hard to focus on the road while tears gushed down my face and my mind was a million miles away. I prayed that I would make it home safely, and I managed to get to my mom's. She drove me the rest of the way home. A couple hours later, after having a little time for things to sink in, I found myself replaying the drive home, with a new perspective, though.

 I thought about how many times in my life I have been driving along, and someone pulls right out in front of me, causing me to slam on the brake... Or someone almost merges into me... Or people have seemed so oblivious to other drivers. I used to get so frustrated! I see everything differently now. I think of the many people who I'm sure were frustrated with how SLOW I was driving that afternoon, and wonder if I had cut any one off on the way home.

I find myself giving others the benefit of the doubt, a lot now. I find myself saying, maybe they just received some shocking news of their own... maybe they are frantically trying to get to the hospital.  The fact is, I don't know what they are going through. And I am so grateful to those who were (and are) patient with me every single day. I hope I don't ever forget this little bit of insight Tesslee's experience has taught me, that I am forever changed to look at things from a different perspective before I jump to conclusions. 

Tender Mercy

This post is for myself to look back on and be reminded when the hard moments hit. Because once I record this sweet experience, I know I will be tried.

Over the past four months it has been difficult to stand aside, empty-handed, as many of my sisters have completed their pregnancies and have brought home beautiful, healthy bundles of joy, with the majority of them being baby girls. While I am happy for them, at times it has seemed more than I can bear, and I have felt as though the universe is mocking me and dumping salt into my deeply pierced heart. I have found myself thinking, Really? This is the year I lose my baby girl? The year so many baby girls arrive in my family? Why this year... this summer? There are plenty of 'off years' when no babies are born. God is laughing and seeing just how hard He can make this for me.

 As I visited with my mom today, she gave me a few of the older Ensign magazines, to look through, before she discarded them. After a long day and the kids were tucked into bed, I picked up one of them began browsing casually through it, not fully expecting to find something of comfort, but hoping to be distracted.

The article I turned to was titled, My Mission Was Cut Short, by Lisandra Brothers. It looked interesting, and that's exactly how I feel with my pregnancy, so I began reading, and instantly knew this article was meant for me to read this exact night. A paragraph jumped out at me as I began and I felt as though I had written it myself:

"It is difficult not to be able to finish the full length of your mission. You wonder about the things that could've been, the things you missed. For many years I could not shake the feelings of sorrow and yearning for the experiences I might have had otherwise."

The article goes on to tell a story of how a sister missionary had passed away on her mission and the mission president spoke at her funeral, saying that he "didn't know that the Lord had any apologies to make. She was His, and if He felt like calling her away like that, it was His affair." I felt like those words were speaking just to me. The mission president next explained that the Lord was aware this would happen and had placed another sister missionary there only days before to continue the missionary work.

The writer then stated, "I realized that... the Lord knew well beforehand what would happen and had prepared additional sisters to take our places." After reading this, something in my heart softened and in my mind I immediately saw the faces of my sweet little nieces. Instantly, I understood the great gift my Father had blessed me with this summer, yet had been unaware of until now. Heavenly Father has not been mocking me. He is taking care of me in the most needed way. He is making this trial as easy as He possibly can for me, if I will just trust Him. The words I once felt my sweet Tesslee whisper to me filled my mind again, "Trust in the Lord and see what sweetness comes from this."

What I originally took as salt being poured into my open wound, has turned into an understanding that my Heavenly Father is deeply mindful of my pain and broken heart. I feel as though He is saying to me, I needed yours back, but I am placing four precious, little girls around you to bring comfort and fill your empty arms throughout the years. "...Be still [my daughter] and know that I am God." (D&C 101:16)

A Mother's Love

     Its been four and a half months since I told my sweet, baby girl hello and goodbye, a four and a half month heartache. What I would give to hold Tesslee in my arms again. I wonder what she is doing all the time... if she popped in to see us today, if she is watching me type this right now. What is my sweet angel doing this very second?

     It feels like a deep, intense homesickness for my child to return home after being gone a little too long. And it is depressing to think that I will just have to learn to live with this pain. The void is very real. It feels like there is always someone missing. Because there is. I try to stay preoccupied. I've noticed, the way I deal with the pain on the really hard days is by deep-cleaning. Cleaning has become therapeutic for me. I had a really tough day camping a couple weeks ago and decided to cleaned the entire bathroom there just to release some anger. I hate cleaning bathrooms. But it was a positive outlet.

     Today I broke down again and deep-cleaned the kitchen, swept the floor, and thought about Tesslee with every sweep of the broom. I know I shouldn't ask why she is gone. I understand that God has this beautiful plan for Tesslee, and that she is doing something very important beyond the veil. But why does a mother have to love so deeply? Why does it have to be so hard for a mom to say goodbye to her child? There is nothing quite like a mother's love, I now know.