Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Replenishing Oil

I recently started following an Instagram account, mormonfaces, that posts pictures and quotes from different members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Sometimes the quotes are funny and sometimes they take you back with how profound they are. The other day, one reminded me of a truth that I have been learning since James' death.
 

I love her thought about how much more difficult it is once everyone steps away and you have to start finding your own footing again. I remember remarking to a friend at one point that I was constantly reminded of the parable of ten virgins and the lesson I always learned was be prepared for when you need that oil, be prepared for the lights to go out so that you aren't stumbling in darkness but can still see the path to walk on. The problem I remarked to her, was that I felt like I had used up all my oil. That is when things got much more difficult for me.

At times I felt lost and alone and I wondered why the pain and heartache had to continue and yes, I would get mad at God for all of it. There were days where I wanted nothing to do with Him, but ultimately my heart wanted that peace that I knew had been provided before. It wanted that peace that was there waiting to be received not just for my benefit, but for my family.


It actually reminds me of another scripture story. In the story of Elijah and the widow of Zarepath, the widow is about to use up the last of her meal and oil. She is collecting firewood to prepare a last meal for her and her son, expecting death to come soon, when the prophet Elijah approaches her (directed by God) to ask for food. In a test of faith, she is asked to make a bit of bread for him first and if she does, she will never be without meal and oil again. I can only imagine her internal dilemma deciding to obey this prophets words. I can imagine her pouring and preparing the last of what she has for someone else, for her to light the small fire and cook this food, hoping that this man's words will be true. I think of her often in that moment when she is encouraged to trust that there is more oil in the container, that it is not all gone. What astonishment and  relief must have passed through this mother's heart as she discovered that there was more oil! How her faith must have been strengthened in God's ability to provide as she put her faith and trust in a promise from one of his servants! 


When I chose to trust and obey, my lamp is full for the day. When I did what I knew would bring that peace day to day, the peace was always there. Reading my scriptures, getting outside, praying, and writing in my journal were all crucial to help me get through each day. Not only that, but when I choose to do that which "fills my lamp," I see and experience much greater joy with my husband and Max. It is hard to parent after loss and grief can rob you from feeling joy with what you do have. As my lamp is lit, I see and notice the beauty of my child and I feel more deeply the love that exists between me and my husband. 

That obvious community support always feels like it goes away but God's support and concern for me never did. It was always there. Eventually, I realized the support of friends was always there too. Learning to let Him replenish my oil, I just had to recognize it, I had to show that I was willing and ready to receive it.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Come Together

This past week was spent returning to my home state, relishing in the evergreens and connection that I feel in Washington.

Idaho has proved to be a hard adjustment for me, mainly because it is such a temporary arrangement and I just miss my friends. I miss connecting and talking and gaining inspiration from the many diverse mothers that I know that expand my mind and have helped me to be a better mother, wife, friend. 

Two days before we were supposed to leave I was talking to my mom and just broke down on the phone, it was unexpected but I recognized immediately that I just missed people, I missed my people, my friends and family. So when I finally touched down in Seattle and set up a few visits with friends I hadn't seen in awhile I TALKED and TALKED and got five months worth of conversations squeezed out into an hour or two. But it felt good and I felt so thankful for friends who understand that I can be an incessant talker that goes on wild tangents and often loses her train of thought or purpose of thought....

Uncle Robbie and Max= Twins

Just being with them and feeling their love for me and my family rejuvenated my spirits and reminded me that no matter how far away I am from them, those connections are always there. 

Our March for Babies walk was on Saturday and I had wonderful friends who showed up and I was SO glad to see them and I was just so glad to walk in the beautiful sunshine with them and talk out my feelings ALL over again with a new set of friends and then eat sno-cones and pizza and cheese zombies (a local elementary school delicacy of processed cheese baked between homemade bread....kinda like a grilled cheese but not grilled). The event was wonderful and I reached my personal goal with some cash donations and our team did wonderfully! 


It felt so good to do something positive in memory of James and I want to thank everyone once again from the bottom of my heart for donating and supporting my effort to help others in his memory.

Our original purpose in visiting Washington was to see my ObGyn and get my 20 week ultrasound, yes the one where you find out the gender. Typically we opt out of finding out the gender, no real reason other than we didn't mind waiting and kinda liked the surprise. But I hated that I hadn't known all that time I carried James, it feels like I missed out on prime bonding time and so we decided to find out for baby #3. 

The only stipulation was that I had to wait to find out until I could be with Kyle, it was my main birthday present to him and so the technician wrote it down in an envelope and I carried it in my purse to be opened once we were reunited. 

The results?

Baby Boy Prescott #3 comes early September!

I am overjoyed it is a boy, I thought he was a girl but I knew that because I thought that, it would be a boy because that was how I was with both Max and James. I am overjoyed that Max will have a living brother close in age, this was one of my regrets in losing James and to be having this new baby boy is a definite highlight. 


Now I want to be very clear that this baby is NOT replacing James in ANY way. I will always hold firm in my belief that James was and is his own person. This new baby is also a new person, unique and special with his own spirit. Every now and then, I will have a well-meaning acquaintance say something like, "now Max will have a sibling!" or something along those lines and I want to be clear that he already DOES have a sibling. I don't get upset or angry when people say this, I have learned that stillbirth is uncharted territory for so many people and most people just don't know what to say or do. I have learned to believe that people always mean well and if there was folly on their part, it is just because they aren't thinking clearly (wether through absence of understanding or nervousness that they will say the wrong thing). 

All this to say, that although James cannot be physically seen with the eyes, I believe in all sincerity of my heart that his spirit is with us often and he will always act as a guardian angel for our family. I think of him constantly, sometimes in sadness and sometimes reflecting on effect he has had on our lives for good, and that makes me happy. Most often, I just think of what it would be like in small moments if he were there. He blends in seamlessly into my everyday life, an invisible angel on my hip, crawling and clapping along. Smiling and giggling on my lap taking part in the memories we are making as a family. His spirit is inseparably intertwined in our lives and I know that it will continue that way as I choose to make it so.

We are grateful for this new life that will be joining our family and I am grateful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ for providing me with the tools to better understand and cope with this unexpected journey we are on. My faith in Christ is what allows me to know that James is with me, that he can be a part of my life and most importantly, that joy and happiness is still possible. 

Now more than ever have I come to realize how important family is to me and how friends have become family. The connections we make on this earth are what bind us in love and understanding. As we strive to connect and talk and share our perspectives and ideas and be open to those different ideas, we can all benefit in understanding and in joy.

p.s. We have a few names in mind but I am always open to suggestions!

Sunday, April 20, 2014

He Lives.

Today for the closing hymn at church we sang "I Know  That My Redeemer Lives." This has always been a favorite of mine but has been made even more special because it is also the closing hymn we sang for James' funeral services.



We didn't invite many people to his graveside burial, it ended up being family and some close friends and I remember choosing with Kyle a few nights earlier to sing "I Know That My Redeemer Lives," we went over the verses trying to select which ones to sing, which ones held the most meaning for us in this new life we were now living. We decided on three of the four verses (1, 2, & 4):
  1. 1. I know that my Redeemer lives.
    What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
    He lives, he lives, who once was dead.
    He lives, my ever-living Head.
    He lives to bless me with his love.
    He lives to plead for me above.
    He lives my hungry soul to feed.
    He lives to bless in time of need.
I remember singing these words and hearing the voices behind me in support and love. Peace crept over my heart that miserable, rainy morning as I felt love and support from those surrounding me.
  1. 2. He lives to grant me rich supply.
    He lives to guide me with his eye.
    He lives to comfort me when faint.
    He lives to hear my soul's complaint.
    He lives to silence all my fears.
    He lives to wipe away my tears.
    He lives to calm my troubled heart.
    He lives all blessings to impart.
The second verse was completely necessary for me to sing, for within it held so many of my emotions. I felt faint, I was fearful and sorrowful and if ever there was a time in my life where my heart had been troubled, it was then.

    1. 4. He lives! All glory to his name!
      He lives, my Savior, still the same.
      Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:
      "I know that my Redeemer lives!"
      He lives! All glory to his name!
      He lives, my Savior, still the same.
      Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:
      "I know that my Redeemer lives!"
A few months after James' funeral, my father-in-law was talking to us and brought up the funeral and the hymns that were sung. He made a remark that has remained with me. Our numbers were few, and the majority of those numbers were my family. In my family I am the only member, the only one who knew the tunes to those songs. We had no piano, only hymnbooks and chorister and yet, when the songs were sung, when "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" was sung in particular, I heard many loud, clear, and confident voices. My father-in-law had the impression which I am so glad he shared with me, that on that rainy morning, we were not alone. There were voices heard from those unseen. The angels who had been ministering to me and my family in the previous days were joining in answer to the prayers of my heart for the words of this beautiful song to be true and as I sang, I felt the Holy Ghost testify that those words are true.


He lives and He has not left us comfortless. Because He lives, we are able to receive so much, to learn and grow and have hope that all of this learning and growing has purpose.
 But there is a resurrection, therefore the grave hath no victory, and the sting of death is swallowed up in Christ. (Mosiah 16:8)
I do know that my Redeemer lives. On this Easter Sabbath, the reality of his resurrection brings more peace and comfort than it ever has before. His resurrection brings me joy.

(Max learning how to use a camera...)

He overcame temptation, He overcame sin, He overcame pain and sorrow and even death. His resurrection is a promise of hope to us all that because of Him, we too can overcome this world. The trials and hardships we face can be opportunities to be sanctified, to be made holy, better versions of ourselves. To be sanctified is to gain greater understanding, more compassion, charity, patience, etc. To be sanctified is to see a garden bloom and grow despite the weeds that try to choke and hold us back.

I pray this Easter may be a time for each of us to offer thanks for the divine gift of our Savior, for His life to has purpose in ours. That because of Him, we may live to have joy and radiate that joy to all those around us.

 (Painting by Minerva Tiechert, found here.)

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Sunrise at the Grand Canyon

We arrived at the Grand Canyon right after the sun had set, we knew the canyon would be too dark to see and we had plans to catch the sunrise the next morning anyways. So we headed to our hotel room and enjoyed an evening of bouncing on the bed and watching Chopped.

Sunrise the next morning would be at 6:40am, an easy wake up for the parents of a child named Max. We looked at the map and suggestions from the park newspaper and decided to watch it at Lipan Point, it would be about a 30 minute drive so we would have to get a bit earlier, but we figured the view would be worth it.

We woke up, got dressed, Kyle had to run back in to grab an extra blanket just in case and then we were off. Following a map in an area we had never driven in, in the dark.

We missed our first turn but realized it about 20 seconds later. Once we got our bearings we were off. Slowly the sky was already starting to turn from darkness to light and with each minute my anxiety grew and grew. We were following a tour van that pulled off at Grandview Point and for a moment we considered doing the same but decided that we would surely make it in time, we still had 20 minutes until sunrise and were about 12 minutes from our destination point.

But sunrises can try to trick you. The sky gets lighter and lighter as the earth turns to greet the sun but the actual point where the sun breaks the horizon is what you are really waiting for. I just didn't want to miss it. I chattered away at Kyle about stopping and agonized over the map and clock constantly afraid we would miss the sunrise.

"We are going to miss it..." I would say anxiously every time a minute passed away.
"We still have time, but if you want to stop when is the next viewpoint?"

My nervousness and anxiety was infecting the entire car and soon Kyle was getting nervous even though at the beginning he reassured me that 6:40am was still plenty far away for us to reach it in time.

But we were surrounded by unknowns. We had never been here, didn't know where we were going and although the road was fairly empty, it was curvy and signs constantly warned us to look for animals. It was nerve-wracking all around.

We were getting close to a viewpoint that was halfway between Grandview and Lipan, Moran. I rationalized that surely any viewpoint of the Grand Canyon would be a good one and so with anxiety at its peak, we saw the sign for the Moran and I urged us to take it, to not take the risk of missing the Grand Canyon at sunrise.



It was a beautiful viewpoint, we studied the canyon for the first time in it's early morning purple hued haze. The immensity of the canyon makes it hard to be crisp and detailed from far away. We sat there, bundled up looking down into the canyon and taking turns cuddling Max and taking pictures of it all. We sat there for a good ten minutes before sunrise occurred and when it finally did we watched as streams of light walked down lower and lower into the canyon. As it descended we saw new colors, purples and blues turned red and yellow and we felt grateful for getting to witness it all.


The drive back to get breakfast in our hotel room was curious though. We wondered what Lipan Point would have been like? At Moran there was a portion of the canyon that blocked the majority of the actual sun rising aspect, we saw the effects on the canyon, but missed the actually sun, we were in too shallow of a point. But we couldn't change the choice we had made and we were happy with our experience overall, but still we wondered.



The rest of the morning was spent on a short hike to (I kid you not) Ooh-Ahh Point. The hike descends about a mile and a half into the canyon and the view does in fact inspire oohs and ahhs. After our hike, we packed up once again to finish our road trip back home to Washington. This required us taking that same drive towards Lipan Point and as we drove in broad daylight, the area now familiar, we decided to stop at Lipan point. To see what we had missed.

I am both glad and sad that we did.

We got to Lipan Point and realized immediately that the sunrise would have been incredible there. It was an unavoidable fact. The viewpoint has more panoramic views and we would have been able to actually see the the sun crest over the horizon. We also realized we could have easily made it to Lipan Point had our anxiety not caused us to turn off earlier. It was about 7 minutes away from Moran Point.


I have mulled over this event in my mind many times, I have analyzed and thought about the various aspects and the bigger picture. This story isn't really about seeing the Grand Canyon at sunrise but rather it is about fear causing us to miss out on some of the best of life's experiences.

In my last post, I wrote about learning to trust my body and the experience and process of pregnancy again and my desire to do so is in large part because of this experience at the Grand Canyon. I let fear and anxiety get the best of me and although my viewing of the sunrise was still beautiful, I know that it could have been that much more incredible and affirming. I needed to trust that the sun would rise at 6:40 am. Although the sky was getting bright, the sun wasn't there yet. The experience was still beautiful but making a choice influenced by so much anxiety can leave doubt as part of your memory.

Choosing faith and trust, even when circumstance are beyond your control allows for your memory to be enveloped in peace and comfort. That is what I am striving for in this process of healing. To choose faith and trust, especially when it hard and even when fear exists.




Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Body Betrayal

I have come to the conclusion that most everyone experiences body betrayal at some point in their life. It may be early for a girl whose body does not fit the standard for beauty that the media flashes all over, it may be sickness, cancer, allergies, or perhaps you are lucky and your body waits to betray you until you are old and gray and deterioration sets in.



Growing up, my mother made it a point to not have a scale in our home, she made it a point to get us to go outside, to exercise and move our body in whatever way felt best. In fact, my mother went to graduate school during my tween years and came across a program called Go Girls. It's aim was to create healthy body images  and self-esteem with young girls. To help them be conscious and aware of how the world tells us how we should look, think and act. She led classes for my classmates and I and for a long time I took for granted that I had a mother who was actively trying to make sure that I knew that I should love my body.

I became aware of my gratefulness for it when I started to hear friends, classmates, or coworkers talk negatively about themselves. I recognized that I had been given a body that was easy for me to love. I fit most of society's standard for beauty, and the parts that didn't fit (curly hair, late puberty, crooked smile) were easy for me to accept.

                

I struggled for awhile after having Maxwell and realizing that weight gained while pregnant was not so easily removed, but I focused on exercising with the focus not primarily on weight loss but to have a healthy body. A body that could run and play and have the energy to make a difference in the lives of my families and others.

These days, there is a lot of inner self-hatred for my body.

When James died and there was no clear cause, what am I to blame except my body? I have been consumed lately with the thought that my body betrayed me.

My body was supposed to nourish, protect and create a safe home for James and in short, it failed. I don't know how but because we do not know the cause of his death I have nothing to blame but this space where my spirit resides.

This create conflicting feelings for pregnancy after loss.

I no longer have that inherent trust in my body that was created while carrying Max. I know it is possible for my body to carry a baby healthy, to term. But I cannot help but wonder if it will betray me again.

After James died, it was physically difficult to look at myself in the mirror. I would get ready for the day, never really making eye contact busying myself with the routine of gel in my hair scrunch, scrunch, scrunch, mascara to the lashes, concealer to cover the dark circles under my eyes bruised from crying. I would dress in the same manner, trying to focus on the outfit rather than the empty arms.

It has gotten easier to look at myself in the eyes, it took a conscious effort at first and now I am starting to accept the things that I love about myself again.

In an effort to love my body, I am actively trying to trust it. Many in the pregnancy after loss community get induced at 37 weeks, especially when there was no known cause before. I understand this, completely. But I also cannot accept that for myself. I realized that to learn to trust my body again, I had to learn to trust God again. They are intertwined, for He created this body for me and only because of the Fall of Adam and Eve is my body subject to betrayal.


Gratefully, my current doctor is supportive of my effort to trust in this process and in my body again. I know that emergencies happen and my main objective is to get this baby here alive, but this journey of pregnancy after loss is messy and dark and gruesome and finding light in the trust I am building within myself and with God provides peace and relief.

I hope that as you read this, that you will look within your own lives and the own distrust or betrayal you may have felt with your body, as you do I pray that you will find ways to love the unique body you have been given. Its unique traits and difficulties can be opportunities to deepen your understanding of the human experiences. As I have dealt with this I have come to understand feelings of self-loathing and jealousy over perspectives of other's experiences. I have come to learn empathy and compassion and a deep desire for us all to truly love ourselves.



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Friday, March 28, 2014

Life Lately

Thank you all so much for the well wishes for this next pregnancy, it is such a comfort to receive kind words and thoughts while wading through fear and anxiety.

We were still in Arizona when I last wrote and between now and then we have been on the road a lot. First we stopped at the Grand Canyon.

More on this later .

Then we drove up to Washington for almost two weeks to visit family and friends who we totally missed. Plus I got another prenatal appointment with the Dr. who I saw throughout Max's pregnancy. The visit with him went very well and I got to see baby once again. He offered a lot of reassurance which feels desperately necessary this time around. I was informed that I am technically high risk this time around (though on the low end of high risk) simply because of a previous stillbirth. This means that once we reach the end stage of pregnancy I will have weekly non-stress tests to ease anxiety and make sure they aren't missing anything. Surprisingly, I was glad to hear this.

Our days in Yakima were spend contracting norovirus (me) and applying/interviewing for jobs (Kyle) and running around with cousins (Max). Oh Kyle also saved the neighborhood by coming home after an interview to find that the men who had been working on the gas line earlier that day right by our house had failed to tighten a nut which was sending 55 lbs per square inch of gas into the air surrounding my mother's home. Major crisis adverted.


We finally drove the destination of Kyle's final clinical rotation here in Twin Falls, Idaho. This is the last leg of his schooling and in June he graduates. So far I am having trouble imagining the reality of a real income. 

Currently I am focusing on managing fear and anxiety by focusing on finding joy in spending time with my family and in a recent project I stumbled upon. While still in Yakima, I was listening to the radio and during a commercial break it was announced that the March of Dime was holding a March for Babies walk in Yakima during the next weekend I would be back for my next prenatal appointment. It seemed fate and once I got home I looked up the information, queried on facebook to see if anyone would donate/walk with me and decided to go for it. So late at night I created a team and made a personal page to walk in memory of James. 

So here is the deal. I haven't done any fundraising since high school when I joined a relay for life team with friends and in general I don't like asking people for money. This was largely my hesitancy in creating a team and setting a goal. But my desire to contribute to the research, education, and prevention that March of Dimes has established for babies and their families in honor of James urged me to take a risk and ask people to donate. 

So I will end my soapbox there and I hope that you decide to donate. Truly. It doesn't have to be $100, it can be $5, $10, $25! I have seen other fundraisers and seen how those small donations add up, and I know that this money makes a difference, their website alone was a great resource to me in the wake of James' death. When James died,and I started writing about the effects of his death on my life, I found many of you reaching out to me and saying that he impacted your life too. I am doing this to lengthen the reach of the effect of James' life, I want to help other families, other babies have access to a different outcome. So I hope you will join me in this effort, I am anxious about my goal and failing miserably and I pray that instead of that morning Starbucks or buying that new top you will consider donating in memory of James. 

I thank you in advance. 

You can find my team and personal page in the links above but if you aren't super computer savvy, here it is again:


p.s. Let me know if you have any questions!

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Time for Hope

I am pregnant again, today marks 13 weeks.

For us the decision to have another child after losing James came easily. A new baby does not replace him but we know that we want our family to grow and I do believe that this baby will provide healing to our hearts. Being pregnant I must learn to believe and trust in my body again, to trust the process of pregnancy, to trust in my Heavenly Father. Ultimately I believe this will bring healing and healing will bring joy.

If you are curious, I am extremely joyful but enter into this with complete trepidation. I am scared out of my mind all the time and the only relief is to just trust in power that is beyond me.

Prenatal care is also tricky because of our current living situation. If you are unaware, we are currently hopping around for Kyle's physical therapy internships that were decided long before we lost James. So we are in AZ for ten weeks (wrapping up week #9) and soon we head to Twin Falls, ID. In June, Kyle will graduate and we will move to wherever work takes us (ideally Washington state).

My dream prenatal care this time around would be to return to the midwife who helped in my delivery of James. I feel bonded to her in indescribable ways but alas, it is not possible to fly to Spokane that often to see her. So instead I am bouncing around to different doctors in different states but luckily in June I will be able to settle and develop a relationship with a consistent care provider. I imagine this will help to reduce my anxiety considerably.

To help you understand my mindset let me share with you some insight that pinpointed exactly what this journey is like fr me. In October I was reading an article of a fellow stillbirth mother who is pregnant and she wrote something profound that her husband had said. She wrote,
We will continue to take these baby steps forward in learning how to embrace the possibility of excitement in a new pregnancy after the loss of a previous one.  As Nick likes to say, “While all other pregnant couples are expecting, we are hoping.” 
That last thought finalized the reality that I live with an entirely different perspective of pregnancy now. I do not expect a baby in my arms in the end. I only hope for it, I pray for this life inside me to continue growing healthy and strong and ultimately I pray that this life will arrive safely and living into my arms.

We do not take the miracle of new life for granted and are so incredibly grateful to add on to our family.