Constant, Unconditional Faith Through Adversity.

Let's be real, folks. Life is freaking hard.  

No one is exempt from hard things, no matter what their life looks like on Instagram. So, don't ever think that you are the only one suffering or that you have been singled out. And don't compare your trials to anyone else. What may not seem difficult to you is breaking someone else down. And the trials you are handling and getting through might be torture to someone else. We are not meant to judge one another. We are only meant to love and respect one another, and feel for one another.
Trials are a necessary part of life. Unless you figure that out, your life is going to be even harder. Accept the adversity that comes. Face it, feel it, grieve it, embrace it, work through it and overcome it so you can move on to the next hurdle. I know, that's a lot easier said than done.

I've endured depression and anxiety, I've battled an eating disorder, my heart's been broken more than once, I've seen people I love most suffer in countless ways, I've struggled through infertility and miscarriage and I buried my sweet firstborn son. It's not like my life has been "perfect," and neither has yours. No one's has. That's my point. You have your own laundry list of trials, and I am sure I wouldn't want to trade for yours. 

I'm not going to pretend that whatever you are going though is no big deal or that your hurt or your grief isn't valid. We are human and we just don't see the big picture. But here is what I know. I know that whatever your trail is it won't last forever, "Peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment..." and something great awaits you, "And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes." (Doctrine & Covenants 121:7-8)

Enduring it well. That is the hardest part, right? When everything feels so wrong, so unfair, so not worth it- how can we endure it well?

My answer is and always will be: faith. Faith in all things. Constant, unconditional faith. My faith is in my Father in Heaven and in His son, my Savior, Jesus Christ. I know they love me in a complete and all-encompassing love I cannot even comprehend. Since I know that, I know that none of my difficulties in life are a result of cruelty. It is only in The Lord's nature to offer us the best. I have faith that every hardship I endure, or you endure, is to make us stronger and better. Through the things I have gone through I have become a more compassionate, understanding and just a better person. I have a strength in me now I never knew I could possess. None of my trials have ruined my life, because all those hard things have brought me my greatest blessings. If not for those trials, I wouldn't have the things I love most. 

Trials and tribulations always precede incredible blessings. God is good. He loves us. He wants to bless us! We just have to have faith and patience. If we don't endure well, if we despise our trials and see them as curses we will never notice our blessings. 

Spencer W. Kimball said, "Being human, we would expel from our lives physical pain and mental anguish and assure ourselves of continual ease and comfort, but if we were to close the doors upon sorrow and distress, we might be excluding our greatest friends and benefactors. Suffering can make saints of people as they learn patience, long-suffering, and self-mastery."

Our trials are not our curses. Through these sufferings we are made strong. The Lord is not punishing you; He is preparing you. Have faith through the storms. Clear skies are ahead.
Trust me, this is still a good life.

XO

God created us to have JOY!

Life in the wake of loss, any loss, is not easy. There are great days, cant-get-out-of-bed days, okay days, and days you can't believe any of it really happened.

There are plenty of mornings I wake up wishing it all was just a dream, and that I can go to the hospital and Max will be there waiting for me. The reality that he is really gone is sometimes an overwhelming pain. I miss him every moment.

January was crazy busy with phone calls and paperwork. I spent every day trying to get insurance, social security and other things figured out. It weighed on me, but it kept me busy. I had purpose each and every day. I still had things to do for Max. But when February came it was like a hit of reality. As things began to work themselves out, and I had less of that stress to do, it became more and more real that Max was gone. This is my life now: a life without Max. 

Two days before Valentine's my old 1996 Jeep Cherokee died. She was only a few thousand shy of 200,000 miles. As we looked for a new car I remembered how we had begun this journey last summer with excitement and anticipation of a new baby. But here we were, 7 or 8 months later, finally, driving home in a new car with no baby in that back seat. Part of us rejoiced to have a car that wouldn't break down all the time, that had A/C, working windows and doors; but the majority parts of us just wanted to park our beat-up Jeep in Primary's parking garage and be back in the hospital with Max.

The day before Valentine's I went to the store to get flowers and a balloon for Max's grave. I stood in the checkout line, tears rolling down my cheeks, while the mother in front of me scrambled with her kids and their Valentine goodies. We went to dinner and a movie that night with our friends, and my heart broke inside knowing they would hurry home to snuggle their baby boy. I sobbed in the car as we drove home, thinking of my brother-in-law's family having their Valentine's date at home with their son. I felt so much distaste for my life that night. I wanted my baby back. I wanted him in my arms. I wanted what everyone else was having. I did not want this life!

The sorrow consumed me, and I felt as though I had forgotten all the important truths I knew to get me through this.

Well, as He does, the Lord found a way to remind me those truths in church the next day.

My mother-in-law, actually, gave a lesson that day that brought me back and filled me with hope again. She shared Dieter F. Uchtdorf's story A Summer with Great-Aunt Rose, which is about a young girl named Eva who is sent to live with her single great-aunt one summer. Rose has never married and has never had children, but lives an incredibly happy life. Despite the things she doesn't have, she is fully aware of everything else she has been blessed with. She explains to Eva that she hadn't always been so happy with her life, though. Just as I had been swallowed up in sorrow for things I did not have, so had this great-aunt Rose. In the story she tells Eva how she was able to find joy:

“Faith,” Aunt Rose smiled. “I discovered faith. And faith led to hope. And faith and hope gave me confidence that one day everything would make sense, that because of the Savior, all the wrongs would be made right. —I could hang my head and drag my feet on the dusty road of self-pity, or I could have a little faith, put on a bright dress, slip on my dancing shoes, and skip down the path of life, singing as I went... Yes, I had some dark days, but all my brooding and worrying wasn’t going to change that—it was only making things worse. Faith in the Savior taught me that no matter what happened in the past, my story could have a happy ending.”

In this story, and the spirit of that church meeting, I was reminded of my faith. My life without Max did not have to be filled with sorrow. Yes, I will feel the pain of his absence, but I will also be filled with love from faith in my Savior, because "God didn't design us to be sad. He created us to have joy!" (Uchtdorf)

Just because we suffer hardships and trials during life does not mean that it has to define us. It does not mean that we have to be broken forever. Our God is merciful. He loves us endlessly and, even though we have to endure hard things, there is always so much in our lives to be grateful for. There is still so much that can bring us joy.

Despite the things I cannot have right now, I was made to have joy. Ya know what brings me joy?

Long drives through the mountains with Tyler. 

Videos and pictures of Max.

Talking on the phone with my mom.

Playing with my nephews.

When Tyler makes funny faces.

Cuddling with Tyler and binge watching TV shows on Netflix.

The view of Ben Lomond Peak from Max's grave.

Writing.

Reading.

Living in Ogden, which I think is absolutely one of the most beautiful places!

The deer in our yard.

Shopping.

Watching Friends.

Laughing with my girlfriends.

Chocolate.

Diet Mt. Dew.

Going to the temple every week.

Attending church.

Speaking with God through prayer.

Reading the scriptures.

...And so many other things!

See, my life is filled with JOY! So, from now on, when I get sad and forget that I will look at this list and add to it. I encourage you all to make a list of the things that bring you joy and remind yourself of your blessings.

Remember who you are and who made you, and that He CREATED YOU TO HAVE JOY!

xo.

All that is left...

So, yeah, I'll admit it... I gained almost 50 pounds during my pregnancy (and I only got to 34 weeks). YIKES! Right? Oh well. I ate as healthy as I could, but never exercised. For the first 15 weeks I felt miserably barfy and after week 18 I always felt like Max was going to fall out. So, yeah I didn't ever really feel like doing any jumping jacks...

I'd be lying to you if I said the weight gain wasn't hard on me. Weight is a struggle for me, even after 7 years in ED recovery. Thankfully, my mom was right, and most of that pregnancy weight comes off right away. Its that last 15 pounds you need to lose to button your pre-pregnancy pants that is a nightmare to get off! 

Initially, the changes to my body were difficult for me to accept. The 5 inch bikini cut scar and the purple, scraping stretch marks from there to my belly button were hard to ignore on my naked body. At first, I had a really hard time seeing the beauty in it all... until Max was gone.

 With Max gone, these scars are all that is left. My body remains as the only physical evidence that he was here. And now as the stretch marks fade, I find myself hoping they will never disappear. My scars are a reminder to me of carrying a child, of carrying my Max. Until him, I never knew for sure that I would ever carry a pregnancy to term. I don't have the baby in my arms, but I have the scars to prove I did. Now, I look at my abdomen in awe of what my body was able to do. I look at that horizontal scar and those rake marks stretching up my belly and think of how Max once grew, lived and moved inside me. I think of how I was cut open and he was carefully and quickly pulled to safety.  

So, now, I look at these marks with love. They are so special to me! I look at these marks, and I am so grateful to be a woman. I look at these marks and I know I am a mother. 

So, dear mothers, be grateful for your marks. Be grateful for the scars that make you a mommy- whatever those scars may be! The stretch marks, the surgery scars, track marks from all your blood draws, or the scars from all your shots. Be so grateful for the physical marks left on you and remember when you hold your baby close that, for some mothers, those scars are all that they have left.

xo.

The Price of Love

It has been a month since Max died. A whole month. I really can't believe it.

I still feel like he was just here, like he was just born. But the days have turned to weeks and the weeks have added up to a month since he has been gone. We've had to face that truth in many ways since then. Just this week I started to go through the nursery and packing things up to put away to store. It was an emotional process. I want it to still feels like Max's room, but I also want it to be a functional space for us. I cried as I packed up diapers, baby lotion, blankets and toys. I wished so much he had come home to lay in that crib, or be changed on that table, or rocked to sleep in that glider.

Here's the thing- I don't know about you guys, but I really struggle with being human. I know that Max is in heaven. I know he has a great calling there. I know that he isn't lost to me. I know I will see him again some day. I have faith in my merciful and loving Heavenly Father and his great plan of happiness. Yet, there I sat, crying on the nursery room floor, because I am human and I miss him. I miss him every second. My arms ache to hold him. My eyes wish to see him. My heart longs to feel like it did in his presence. Despite the truths I know and the faith I feel I have I still feel sad without him, which made me feel weak.

I have really struggled with this side effect of being human. I felt like Heavenly Father and Max must  have been so disappointed in me because of my weaknesses. I have wondered why I couldn't be stronger if I know what I know. I felt, like, if I really was a great woman of faith then I would be strong and not sad. And, if that is the case, then I must not be very strong or very faithful... Right? Well, no. I have, finally, come to realize that is wrong.

Being sad does not make me weak. My human heart was made to bear grief. We came here for mortal experiences: to have great joys and suffer great trials. Even when we endure the difficult times faithfully, that doesn't mean we won't have sadness or heartbreak. Even the only perfect being to ever walk this earth experienced heartache. The shortest verse in all the scriptures, is also one of the most profound, "Jesus wept." In John 11:35, upon finding out that His dear friend Lazarus had died, even Jesus shed tears. Christ knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead, but He still wept with Mary and Martha. And the next scripture, verse 36, describes the messages His tears conveyed to those who saw "Behold how he loved him!"

I have searched all over and cannot find an author for this quote, but it perfectly sums this all up.
“Grief never ends... But it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith... It is the price of love.”

Well, I loved Max. I love him with every inch of my soul. I grew him within me for 34 weeks. I gave all of myself to him, physically and emotionally. I sat with him nearly every day for 5 weeks. I held him close in my arms as he died. So, how could I not be sad? How could I not miss him and cry? And I don't think that makes me weak, anymore. Every tear I shed conveys the strength of my love for Max. Missing him so much means he was real, and he was here.
Missing him is just the price of loving him so much. 
XO

Who am I?

It is truly incredible how you become permanently changed by the birth of your child.

Each time we had an ultrasound, I felt a love for Max so strong that I couldn't even fathom how it could grow. Then he was born, and that love multiplied. And until you experience it yourself, there is no way to know it or understand it. That kind of love isn't something you can imagine or describe; it lives within you, ever-growing by the second.

So, now at long last I was Max's mother. Sure, I had been a mother since I gotten pregnant with Boston, but now I actually had a child here- I had Max. There he laid in his incubator, with his one open eye blinking at me and his tiny little hand wrapped around my finger. This is what I had always wanted, what I had always dreamed for myself since I was a little girl. I was a mother. Now, my life felt complete.

In that very instant I was changed. From that moment our gaze met, everything I did was for Max. I was his Mom and I would do anything for him! And nothing made me happier. I loved getting to proudly answer "Yes!" when asked, "Are you Max's mom?" This is who I was now, and my heart was overflowing.

As the days and weeks went on every waking, and sleeping, moment were about Max. I pumped every 3 hours, I sat by his bedside 8-10+ hours a day, rocked him, read to him, talked to him, prayed for him, met with doctors for him and called throughout the night to check on him. I was Max's mom and he was all that mattered in my life until I almost made myself sick. After 4 weeks of NICU chaos, pumping, rarely sleeping - all on top of my own surgery recovery- I was exhausted. I wanted to be supermom, but I couldn't. That Saturday night Tyler had to practically carry me out of the hospital. My whole body ached and I could hardly stand anymore. This is motherhood; love so great you'll nearly kill yourself to be there for your child.

I was Max's mom and he was my life. While I sat with him, I had trouble even remembering what life had been like before he existed. How could I have ever survived without him? Who was I before I was his mother? It didn't matter to me now. All I wanted was to be a mother, his mother, for the rest of my life!

In the immediate wake of Max's death I felt a great void in myself. That first night home, and many nights that followed, I woke up to call the NICU and hung up only when I suddenly realized I had no reason to call. Sometimes I still wake up in the mornings in a hurry to get to the hospital, and it takes a minute for me to remember that I don't need to go. I'm even all dried up, and haven't pumped in 2 weeks. All the motherly duties I had are gone. 

Who am I now that its all done? Yes, I know I'm still a mother... but its just like before. I'm a mother without my children present. I'm a mother, but I have no one here to mother. All I've ever really wanted and all I loved was being a mother. So... what do I do now? What do I do now that Max is gone? After the dust settled and our new life without Max began, I felt utterly lost.

So, who am I now? Well, I'll tell you...

I am the author of Max's incredible story. The journey to get to him and the 5 week adventure we spent with him is a story I must continue to tell. Through pondering, prayer and fasting I have felt the Lord reveal to me a special plan that I am honored to carry out. Not only will I continue to keep this blog and continue to share our story of hope and faith, I will also make a broader effort to share Max's life and my testimony. 

I will be dedicating this year to writing a book!

I feel excited, overwhelmed, terrified and ready all at the same time. Most of all, I feel Max standing beside me, encouraging me. I know he will guide me as I work to make this dream a reality. I know the Lord will bless me along the way. I know I have the amazing support of family and friends as I take on such an incredible new challenge.

I am still a mother. I still have a calling to care for Max, and this is how I will show my unfailing love and appreciation for him. I will try to tell as many as will listen about the strong, wild, faithful boy who came to change our world.

XO

The Best Year Ever

Well, 2016 has arrived. It is hard to look forward to a year without our Mighty Max. 2016 will certainly be a year of healing as we try to move forward in the wake of our loss.

My feelings about this new year are so torn. I have hope in seeing what this year will bring us, but I'm feeling so sad now that 2015 is our past. I mean, try as the years might, I cannot imagine how any year will really ever top the pure joy that was 2015. Truly, this last year was the best of our lives! Interestingly, I have found that some people are so surprised to hear me say this. 

Yes, just two weeks before the year ended we held Max tight in our arms as he took his last breath and his spirit returned to our Lord. Yes, our hearts broke into millions of tiny pieces when he was gone. Yes, we miss him more than words could ever try to convey. But that is just one part of an entire year of miracles, joy and triumph. And, truthfully, even that one part was a miracle. For us, even Max's death was a beautiful blessing.

Surprised? Let me explain...

Even the sadness of Max's passing could never erase the joy in his arrival. I can't imagine how any future moments will possibly compare to the joy of finding out last April that I was miraculously pregnant. No doctors, no shots, no medications, no positive ovulation tests; yet, somehow I was pregnant! And then, on November 17th, 6 weeks early he came into our world AND HE LIVED! Despite what the doctors expected, despite what science claimed impossible, despite not even breathing at birth HE LIVED! And despite discovering that his condition was even worse than they had anticipated before birth he lived for five whole weeks. I mean, really, our joy was overflowing! Those 5 weeks with Max erased all the heartache of infertility. The miracle of Max brought a light to our lives that even death could not shadow. 

Max was so incredibly special. His spirit radiated a glory that is beyond description. Every day we were with him our faith grew, our testimonies expounded and our hearts were made strong. This amazing little baby touched the lives of people he never met, of people that Tyler and I haven't even met. How incredible is that? How incredible that the Lord thought we were good enough for him! I still can't believe Max picked us to share his journey. 

When, at last, the doctor and nurse removed all the chords and his breathing tube I finally got to hold my baby boy like I'd always hoped to. I snuggled him close and kissed his face without worry. He breathed and cooed and stared at Tyler and I with his one open eye. And despite knowing that this moment would be our last with him, I was fulfilled. I knew he would soon be free of the bonds of his mortal body. I knew that soon he would be surrounded by our loved ones already passed. I knew that he would go straight from my arms into the arms of our Savior who would proudly say, "Well done my good and faithful servant. You have fought the good fight. Now enter in to my rest."

What more could a mother ask for? What more could a mother want for her perfect, precious child?

So, yes, 2015 was the best year of our lives, because we had Max. We had Max and we saw countless miracles. We had Max and we experienced celestial glory. We had Max and we were humbled by the Christlike service of hundreds of loved ones and strangers. We had Max and we came to know our Heavenly Father and our Savior. We had Max and our lives changed. 

How could we be so blessed and turn our backs to God? How, having seen the heavens open, could we choose to shut ourselves off? How could we experience all that we did, but choose to be bitter just because Max died?

He came. At last, our son was here. Every day with him was a miracle, a blessing. He was strong and he fought so hard to stay with us as long as he could, because he loved us so much. We could never betray that love or dishonor him by defining 2015 by his death. For us, 2015 will always be about miracles, blessings and Max's life. 

XO.