Holiday Thoughts

I know it is not even mid November yet, but I am ready to start decking my halls. I love Christmas. Most other mothers I know who are facing their first Christmas without their child are dreading the coming season. I don't know why I don't feel that. But, I don't. I am sure there will be some tender moments in the midst of the festivities but to me Christmas is just such a joyful time.

I have been thinking about how to incorporate remembering Camille into our Christmas celebrations. I am excited about my ideas so far. I think they will really add to the Christmas Spirit in our home and be true gifts to Camille and reminders of her.

I would like to invite any of you who would like to join us in these new traditions. Your help will make them so much richer in so many ways. 

First, I am going to hang Camille's stocking with all our others. Next to it I am going to have a pad of paper. I already bought a pad of heart shaped paper for this. As a family we are going to fill Camille's stocking with acts of love and service. We are each going to look for out of the normal opportunities to show love and serve others. When we see one, we will do the service or show the love in honor of Camille. Then we will come to get a piece of paper and write what we did down and put it in Camille's stocking. 

The acts may be simple. Maybe I will snuggle my kids extra long before bed one night. Maybe my kids will obey the first time they are asked to do something. Just as long as they did it with Camille in mind it will count as a gift to her. I hope we can also find some more challenging service opportunities as well. Maybe a bake sale to raise money for a charity or something. 

Then Christmas morning we will take out all the papers and read them. It will be our way of helping Camille open her presents. I think it will really bring in the Spirit of Christmas because any gift of love or service is also a gift worthy for the Christ child. If you want to do the same and send any of your acts of love and service papers to me, I will add them to Camille's stocking as well. They will be fun to read Christmas morning.

The second tradition I want to modify is our tree decorating. Every year I have a mini Christmas tree for each child. You know those little ones that are about 2 feet high. We put lights on them and a star or angel on top. Then I have an advent calendar that has a door to open for each day. I put the ornaments behind the doors and day by day the kids get to decorate their own Christmas trees.

At first I thought I would not do one for Camille. But I have changed my mind. One of my fellow angel moms had a great idea that I thought I would use. I am going to put Camille's tree up and decorate it as an angel tree. Every decoration on it will be angel related. Here is the part where I hope my friends will help out. I would love to have every decoration on this tree be a gift. Somehow I think they will have so much more meaning coming to me as gifts than me just going to the store to buy them. 

So, if you would like to either send and angel ornament (they do need to be small for a mini tree) or if you would like to join in doing and recording acts of service and love as gifts for Camille, please email me and I will send you my mailing address.  My email is on my profile page or it is stephaniewaite@gmail.com.

I am going to get my decorating going this weekend. I know it is early, but why not spend the extra two weeks in holiday cheer?

Recipes

Here are the recipes from what I made for our party the other day. Try them and let me know if you like them. They are yummy to me.

Melt Aways

Melt Aways

Ingredients:

1/2 lb. Butter

1/3 cup powdered sugar

3/4 cup corn starch

1 cup flour

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Beat ingredients together till smooth and creamy. Form into small balls about the size of a quarter (no bigger). They will grow in the oven a little. Bake them for 12 minutes. Makes about 40 cookies.

Frosting:

3 ozs. soft cream cheese

1 cup powdered sugar

1 t. vanilla

food coloring

Make frosting by mixing all ingredients. The frosting can be any color you like. Some favorites are pink or blue for baby showers, green or white with a bit of a cherry on top for christmas, or orange for halloween. Frost cookies when they are completely cool. Be generous with the frosting. It makes the cookie. Eat the cookies in one bite. They crumble once bitten into.

The Festive Cheese Spread

I love this one!

Festive Cheese Spread

Ingredients:

8 ozs. soft cream cheese

1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese

1/4 cup sweetened coconut flakes

1 bottle mango chutney (or apricot jam) enough to cover the cheese block

1/2 cup crasins boiled till soft and cooled

1/3 cup chopped nuts (pecans or walnuts)

1 bunch green onions chopped up

Mix cheeses and coconut. Form into a 1 inch high square, oval, rectangle etc. and put in fridge. When ready to serve put cheese base of plate. Cover with chutney or jam then cranberries then nuts then green onions. Enjoy with crackers. I like it best with Wheat Thins. They are sturdy enough to cut into it and they just taste good with it. Enjoy! 

Pregnant Grief

I do not have an overly emotional nature. I am the girl who would rather laugh than cry and often will find a joke to drive away tears. I don't think being sensitive is one of the talents I was given at birth. I have to remind myself lately of what I am "normally" like because I haven't really been myself for the past nearly 5 months now. 

In the beginning I just cried so much and so often. The pain was so fresh and the grief so overwhelming. There seemed to be an unending stream of tears for me to cry. As I have grown stronger and borne this grief with more stability, I have pregnancy hormones to negotiate. 

In so many ways this pregnancy has been healing already. It has given me hope and purpose and physical pain to focus my mind. But, sometimes it is just hard to be grieving and hormonal. I can tell there is an extra layer of emotion added to my otherwise "normal" grieving emotion. 

I love to sing. I haven't been able to sing since Camille died. I still can't get through a church hymn. Even many children's songs are just too hard to get out. I used to sing my children the song "I Wonder When He Comes Again" when I put them to bed. I haven't been able to sing it since. 

I just am nearly always in tears just beneath the surface. It takes so little to tear through that outer layer and let the waters rush out. It isn't that I hate crying. But really, I think my Grandma Bunker said a wise thing on her death bed. 

Grandma had liver cancer. It progressed extremely quickly once she was diagnosed. The doctors had given her 6 months to a year to live. The third week after her diagnosis she went from doing fine to being bed ridden and unable to eat much. All her internal organs were shutting down. My parents were out of town with my little brothers. My older sister and brother and I went to visit her after not seeing her for a day or two.

The change in her was dramatic and scary for us at ages 13, 15 and 18. She was almost unrecognizable compared to how she had looked just two days earlier. This was a grandma who lived close to us and was in many ways a second mother to us. Walking into her bedroom we knew she would not be with us much longer. The tears just fell and they fell in abundance. None of us could speak. 

Well none of us except for Grandma. She told us over and over and over that she loved us. I think that is how I knew she would die very soon. It was the last thing she wanted us to know and she wanted to burn it into our consciousness. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." It made its mark. I have never doubted that love that I know never dies.

As we were there, holding her hands and sobbing at her sides, Grandma imparted a final bit of wisdom that has stayed with me since. "You know you can get all weepy and cry about this but all that does is give you a stuffy nose and a headache." She died that night in the middle of the night while my parents were on a flight home.

Well I have had about a decades worth of stuffy noses and headaches these last 5 months. There are benefits from this emotional shift. I do think I am more sensitive and compassionate. But I hope there comes a day after the baby is born and those postpartum hormones have worn off, that I can stop taking Tylenol regularly and sing again.

Come Party

My friend Catherine and I are throwing a Shade/Adorn Jewelry Party! If you know me or Catherine come to our party on Tuesday night at 7:30 p.m. 

We both love excuses to get together with our girlfriends so ... come have fun with us. Featured will be clothing from Shade clothing. Also my friend Emily that made the Camille bracelet will have a display of some of her beautiful handmade jewelry for sale. The bracelets above and below are a couple of my favorites.

So come do some early Christmas shopping and get yourself outfitted for the cooler weather that is suddenly upon us. 

It will be at Catherine's house, if you need her address you can call me or her. 

I will be making yummy treats to eat that even I, with my nausea, can't wait to eat. I plan to make these too tasty cookies that melt in your mouth. Thus the name, Melt Aways.

And this is a close of up a cheese dip covered in goodness that tastes even better than it looks. Hmm. I am craving this one already. Come try it.

Lovely Dreams

This was taken a year and a week ago at my brother's wedding.

It is my mom and Camille. She was about this age in last night's dream.

The last two nights Camille has been in my dreams. The dreams have not been about her. She just has been around in them. I woke this morning from a dream that we returned from our date last night and I ran upstairs to get something. When I came down, the babysitter who we really did have last night was in the office holding Camille. I said "oh did she wake up?"

"Yes, she was crying," replied the sitter. Then I took her from the baby sitter and held her. Then I woke up to the morning sun pouring through the windows in my room.

The times before that I have seen Camille in my dreams I have woken up so sad. In fact, I have not wanted to be awake at all. I have tried to go back to sleep to be with her again. But it has been many months since I last saw her in a dream. I think I wrote about the last time I dreamt about her. 

These last two mornings I have woken up with a joyful feeling. I have not tried to go back to sleep. I have felt a new brightness for the day and even a cheerful outlook. Now I will not say this has lasted all day. I still have gotten cranky when the pregnancy related digestive issues starting wearing on me. But waking up I feel good. I am grateful for that. And I am really grateful for the dreams. They remind me how much Camille is still a part of our little family.

Less Heavy Still Cranky, but Smiling

Thanks to all those who have helped lift my load these last 24 hours. The comments, the tulips, the beautiful sculpture, the visits and probably mostly the prayers have really lifted my load. It really helps to have so many wonderful people holding you steady and bearing some of the weight with you.

I have felt better today. The bath did help last night. And I read a good book to inspire my mind with more uplifting thoughts. That always seems to help as well. 

There has been much discussion about the role of anger in the grieving process among some of my fellow angel mom friends. I haven't really felt angry in all of this. I honestly don't think I ever will. I don't want to. I think it is a natural and normal feeling under the circumstances but I don't think it is always a necessary part of every person's process. 

But I could be wrong. I am still new at this. Maybe I just haven't hit that yet. Really I would be shocked if I did some day get angry about this, but I have been shocked by things before. I know enough to know I don't know everything. 

Still the issue has been on my mind and it has made me reflective on whether or not I have anger that is showing up in other ways. So I have been cranky. Tonight I commented to Jonathan, "maybe my crankiness is my form of anger in the grieving process?"

My sweet husband, honest in all things, gave me what was to me a reassuring response. "No honey, that is your way of being pregnant. You are 10 times more cranky since becoming pregnant."

It is true that I find it exceedingly difficult to be cheerful when I feel like crap physically. I have amazing respect for those who deal with chronic pain and are still able to be nice. I am working on that but really, I have a LONG way to go. I am lucky my kids are patient with me and accept my apologies quickly when I get cranky with them. 

The cheerful highlight of my day was sitting down to dinner in an empty Chinese restaurant with my three little girls and the four of us have a very nice dinner together. They were so well behaved putting their napkins on their laps and drinking out of goblets. They all tried and somewhat successfully ate with chopsticks. There was lots of stabbing involved. They all tried every dish and each found one they loved. 

For Sabrina it was the broccoli stems and the general chicken.

Lauren loved the broccoli and rice. 

 Ann Marie enjoyed the beef, the chicken and the rice with sauce on it.

As for me, I enjoyed the food, but even more I enjoyed discovering that my girls like Chinese food as much as I do. I have no doubt that tonight was one of the first of many all girl outings in my little family.

Heavy

Tonight I am cranky. I haven't felt well all day. My mind is tired of all the political garb. My heart is heavy. My heart always feels heavier when my mind is tired. 

So tonight's post is for me. Tonight, I need my own daily scoop.

There is one trainer at my pilates studio who is brutal. She works me out hard. She pushes me to my limits. There are many times when I am doing the exercises she asks of me and about half way through the session my muscles begin to shake. They are so tired and worn that I cannot stop them from shaking. Other times I get to a point where my muscles simply will not do what I ask them to do. They are incapable of the movement required of them. 

At the same time, I have seen great growth in my strength and abilities as I have worked with this trainer. I can see my muscles taking more shape and there are exercises that I couldn't do at first that now I can do. All the while, we are increasing the difficulty and weight during our training.

Sometimes I feel that my life is like this. The weight of this grief seems constant on me. But week by week I am stronger. At first there were SO many things I simply could not do. They added weight to my load. But the longer I have carried this weight the more steady I feel under its weight. 

Still there are times when the stresses of life increase the difficulty or weight of my load by incremental degrees. Suddenly I am enormously aware of the entirety of the weight. There doesn't ever seem to be a time that I can put down the load and let my muscles take it easy. Some days it is all I can do to stand on my shaking legs and not allow them to buckle underneath me. 

I feel gimpy for the shaking. It is as if someone has just handed me a dictionary to hold and suddenly I am shaking under the weight. I could have carried a few dictionaries with ease in the days before. But my muscles are still so tired from the elephant I have strapped to my back that suddenly this dictionary seems unbearably heavy. And so I shake and eventually I give it away or drop it.

I guess I can try holding dictionaries later. For now I am only able to carry paper back books.

I am going to go soak myself in a tub and try to clear my mind of all the issues spinning themselves in circles in there. Maybe if I can clear my mind of extraneous worries, I can center myself once more. I can remind myself to breath in and out. I can remember to keep looking for the joy all around me and try to engage it in my life.

 

Happy Tuesday!

I just returned from voting. This has been a hard election for me. I just really don't feel like any of the candidates for President represent me well. I don't fit well in either the Republican or Democratic parties. Quite frankly, I am just glad to get this day over and have no more calls from Barak and John and all the other local people. 

I love politics in theory. I just hate it in practice. It has gotten so dirty and so negative. Good riddance to all this campaigning.

The only race I really care about this year is in not on my ballot -- Prop 8 in California. I hope enough Californians have the strength to stand against the persecution being thrown at them and pass Prop 8. I will be watching to see tonight. It will be a real test of where we stand morally as a nation. 

As for the Presidential race, I predict Obama will win by at least 5% in the popular vote. I hope that he will choose to become a President that will work for the betterment of all Americans and not just liberals and Hollywood folk. I think he has the potential to be a great President in many ways. Then again, he also could lead the country to moral corruption in the process. He is a bit of an unknown factor in many ways. Hmmm. It will be interesting to watch at least. 

Well whatever your opinions are politically, go make them known at the polls today. And celebrate the end of this campaign season with me. Hallelujah no more political ads or calls! 

Too Much Drama

We have lots of girls in our house. I am sure you all can imagine the drama that comes with this occasionally. While some girls are more drama than others, all of us have our moments if we are honest. My girls are no exception. Once in a while each of them let their inner drama queen take center stage. 

I have been known on occasion to call them on this. You know those times they are crying like they are dying when they barely have a scratch. Their main purpose for the tears and anguish is really to get the offender in trouble. Mom's see through this right? So, on occasion, I have used the phrase, "come on now, no need to be a drama queen. You are fine."

I am thinking I need to find a new approach. I have noticed my girls picking up on this term. One will be crying because she doesn't want her hair brushed and another will say under her breath, "drama queen." Then the cries just get louder and they are accompanied by anger at the sister for being called a drama queen. 

The final kicker came yesterday. Jon was upstairs with the girls. I heard Lauren get upset. Then I heard Lauren's little three year old voice full of contempt and accusation say, "Daddy, you are being a drama queen!"

I think that was the hardest laugh I have had since Camille died. Thanks Lauren for being cute and three. And Daddy, thanks for being a "drama queen."

Lesson on Individual Worth

I taught a lesson to the Young Women today on Individual Worth. I spent the whole morning trying not to break down because I knew I would be talking about Camille in my lesson. I had spent lots of time thinking about this lesson. The manual gave good topics to teach but the stories cited to teach them were ... well they were not as poignant as some others from my own life. 

I think the lesson went really well. I started by putting several items on the table. Some of these were the scriptures, a hand painted tea set, Lauren's monkey that she sleeps with every night, a jug of pomegranate juice, and a camera. I asked the girls what these things were worth and what made them valuable. 

We talked about the scriptures. They are only valuable to those who have read them and gained from them. They become valuable as they become familiar and loved. The camera is valuable for its function. The pomegranate juice is valuable because it is rare and difficult to extract by hand. The tea set was just some average tea set. Alone it is not very valuable. But I drew the pictures on it when I was five and then my mother hand painted those pictures when my daughter Ann Marie was born. It is therefore unique and totally irreplaceable. 

Then I held up Lauren's monkey. We guessed it might get 2 dollars if we were lucky in a yard sale. But to Lauren this monkey is her most valuable possession. The monkey is tattered and old but it is HER monkey. To her it is everything. If I bought the same monkey new she wouldn't want it. She would know it was not her monkey.

Then I transitioned to tell the kids how as a teenager I felt when I went to a party with my dad. He held a somewhat prominent position in our city. He knew EVERYBODY. Really. I told them how I felt people expected me to be a certain way and I had to act accordingly. I told them that because of who my dad was I felt important when I met someone he knew, and not like just some kid. 

Then I asked the girls if I felt that way because my dad had a well known job, how should they feel considering who their Father is. We are not daughters of politicians or presidents or even a king. We are daughters of God. Much is expected of us and our potential is great. We ought to feel important just because of who our Father is. 

We then read the scripture that says "the worth of souls is great in the sight of God." I asked the girls why He would find them valuable. They said because parents love their kids. I said that was true. Just like the monkey on the table, parents do love their kids no matter how beat up or ratty they get. Then I explained how above just loving your kid because they are your kid, how parents love each kid uniquely because each child is unique. 

I told the girls about my girls flowers and why each girl reminds me of each flower. I broke down in earnest when I got to the tulip and Camille. Many of these girls are new to me and so I had to tell them who Camille is and that she passed away. I explained that even though Camille was only 1 and really didn't contribute to society yet, she was MINE and she was unique. I have three other daughters. But none of them can be Camille to me. I could hold every other baby in the world and none of them would feel like my Camille. She is irreplaceable in all the world. I loved her uniquely just as I love each of my girls uniquely. 

I then told them how Heavenly Father has the incredible ability to love all of His children this way. Each of His children are unique. He know each of us fully and better than we know ourselves. Each of us are irreplaceable in His kingdom. All the other billions of His children can not fill the place in His heart that one of us will leave if we do not return to Him. That is why the Savior said the shepherd left the 99 and went after the one. He loves the 99 but the they all cannot replace the one. The one is HIS too. 

The Spirit was strong and I feel like the girls really got it.  I pretty much cried through most of this portion. Then I had a girl who wasn't teary read a quote from Elder Holland's talk "To the Young Women" where he talks about understanding who we really are. 

Next we went on to how while we all have weaknesses, as we improve ourselves we increase further our value. I made the girls find the scripture about why we have weaknesses all by themselves to make sure they all knew how to find a scripture by themselves. This took several minutes. But I think it is WAY important that when they have questions that they know how to find the answers in the scriptures all by themselves. 

As the last two were finding it, I told them about Snowman the horse and his story as told by Elder Wirthlin in conference a couple of years ago. Then I ended with the fact that even if there are weaknesses that we are not able to make strengths in this life, we no less loved by the Lord.

I bore my testimony to them and it seemed they got all I wanted them to get out of it.

I know this was a long post folks, but I wanted to record this for myself and anyone else who may want to use my ideas from it. Also, if any of you don't feel you are of worth, KNOW that you are. You are unique in all the world to our Father and you are HIS. He loves you uniquely and no one else can take your place in His heart or His kingdom. I know this is true. Be there.

A Classic Annie Quip

Just had to write this down. 

I am right now trying to get Ann Marie to get dressed so we can leave for the day. She is in PJs still. She is coloring a project. When she starts a project she has a VERY hard time leaving it before she is completely finished.

So I say "Come on Ann Marie. We are all waiting on you. We are going to leave you here since you are not getting ready. You only have 2 minutes and we are leaving."

It is a credible threat since Dad is staying home. Otherwise she would see through such a threat.

"OK MOM!" she so nicely responds. "I am coming." Note she is still downstairs at the kitchen table not upstairs getting dressed. "I already have my underwear on!"

Well at least I can be glad for that. :) Classic.

Happy Halloween

Happy Halloween! My 12 year old neighbor Rachel and I put together a Halloween Block party today. It turned out great. My kids loved having a bounce house to play in all day. So did all the other neighborhood kids. And the weather was perfect for sitting out and visiting with great neighbors.  Here are a few photos from the day.

Dr. Annie is trying to look happy after being in a grumpy mood.

Little ladybug Lauren got a cute ladybug painted on her cheek.

My bride girl Sabrina was having fun taking care of the little kids and playing in the bounce house.

We had a pot luck dinner this evening. It was well attended with 10 of the 15 houses in our development participating. 

The other night was our ward trunk of treat. Here is a seriously serious photo of all of us dressed in our costumes for the event. It was fun even though my tummy hurt and I felt crummy. 

We haven't had too many trick or treaters tonight. We live too out of the way for people to bother coming up for only 10 houses. One thought hit me that night of the trunk or treat though. I watched as all the one year olds came to me to trick or treat. That is when Halloween becomes magical for a kid is at one year old. 

Suddenly, you can walk up to people and they just give you candy. All you have to do is say "thank you." I think all my kids have learned to say "thank you" on Halloween. They watch the first few houses and then by the 5th house they are all ready to hold out their bag and say "thank you!" I missed having my own one year old that night to teach how to trick or treat. I missed hearing what her little thank you would have sounded like. But I enjoyed seeing so many others her age waddling around the parking lot in wonder and awe. 

Life goes on and children learn and grow. My little one is learning and growing in ways I can only imagine. 

A Gift

Jon's cousin Dana stayed with us a year ago. He just found this picture of Camille on his cell phone from that trip. Thanks Dana for sending it. It is such a gift. I know it isn't the best photo quality but I love it. I love that I can see the girly shape of her eyes in it. I love the reminder of this time of her life when she loved to gnaw on her high chair tray.

It is a strange thing to see pictures of your deceased child that you didn't know existed. Each one is like seeing something new your child has done. Just when you thought you had seen every picture and had consigned yourself to the fact that there won't be any new moments. There won't be any more photos. There won't be any new things to learn. 

Just then, sometimes you get a special gift like this. A glance at your child you didn't see during her life. A new picture. It is a treasure beyond description.

Are We There Yet?

Remember road trips? We have done a few of those in the last month. Inevitably our kids ask within the first 30 minutes the all too famous question, "Are we there yet?"

This happened on our last trip to California. Lauren asked this about 20 minutes into our 5 hour drive. I thought to myself how different a child's perception is of time. Lauren knows that her cousin Charlotte's house is far away. So after 20 minutes, she figured it had been a long time and surely we must be close.

Near the end of our trip, in what was not the middle of the night, Lauren was tired of driving. She does not sleep well in the car and it was near 11 p.m. She was just tired. Finally, about 20 miles from our destination, Lauren said, "Mom, this is too long. I want to go to bed. Let's just go home. It is too far to Charby's house."

I had a pretty vivid dream the other night about living in California and trying to get home from an outing. But the freeways were shut down and there was rioting in the streets. There was an enormous mushroom shaped cloud of smoke the size of a city over the city across the bay from where I was. It felt like the end of world. 

I woke up thinking I better get my 72 hour emergency kit updated for kids clothes and put it in my car, just in case I am somewhere I can't get home when a disaster strikes. The more I have thought about this dream, the more I have found myself asking, "Are we there yet? Is it time for the second coming yet?" 

Sometimes, I feel just like Lauren in those first minutes. It has been a long time, we must be near. The world is so wicked, we must be close. But then maybe we are only 20 minutes into this 5 hour ride. I hope not. I hope we are closer. Somehow I think whenever that day comes, whoever is alive to see it will feel like Lauren did late that night. "I am tired. I am ready to rest. Let's just go home." The real trick will be enduring then. 

Maybe that is why the Lord gives us so many personal 11th hour trials. You know the ones where you are praying to help and help doesn't come till the last second possible when it seems like all is lost. Maybe he is building our endurance so that in that time before His coming we will be able to hold on a little long and wait for the peace that only He will be able to usher in.

Pregnancy Mercies

I thought I might share now some of the interesting details of the early part of this pregnancy. And for those who are wondering, yes we will find out if it is a girl or boy if and when we can.

First, Sabrina was the first person I told. Finding out I was pregnant was a bittersweet experience. It has never been like that for me before. I was excited and had been trying with Sabrina, Lauren and Camille. Ann Marie was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Each time I have seen the two lines on the pregnancy test I have instantly been excited and thrilled. 

This time we had been trying and I knew I would be disappointed if we were not pregnant. At the same time seeing the positive result did not fill me with excitement as in days past. I just took it in. I breathed. I was taking a huge step forward. I knew that. But sometimes it feels that steps forward are steps away from Camille. And so I let the bittersweetness of the moment have time to mellow in my soul.

I did not tell anyone for a day. Sabrina had been asking for many weeks about how exactly we could get some seeds planted in me so I could have a baby. So with Jonathan's prearranged permission, she was the first person I told. She in turn told her dad and then kept it a secret. 

The night after I told Sabrina I came down with Fifth's Disease. I posted about how sick I was back then. Fifth's Disease can cause miscarriage in early pregnancies. So for the first 4 weeks I told no one about the pregnancy. I told myself that I was not really pregnant, just late. I did not want to be disappointed by a miscarriage. 

I paid my doctor weekly visits so she could do tests to see if the pregnancy had survived my illness. Fifth's Disease either terminates the pregnancy or has no effect. It was an all or nothing threat. Weeks passed and the ultrasounds were inconclusive. Finally, at eight weeks, we saw a little blob in my uterus with a flickering heartbeat in the middle of it. 

This little peanut, as we are now calling him/her, had survived the week of 103 degree fevers and all the stress of Fifth's Disease. I felt an assurance that this baby would safely be brought into this world. I know many other mothers in my shoes fear losing their child, before or after birth. I do not have this fear anymore. Once I saw that heartbeat, I just lost all that fear. 

I do not know for sure that this will be born without complications and will grow up and live to a ripe old age. I don't know that for any of my kids. But I feel that all is in accordance with the Lord's plan for my life. I am following the river of peace that runs through our lives and guides us to where we are supposed to be. If that river suddenly takes an unexpected turn, as it did for me when Camille drowned, I will traverse that territory as it comes. But I know as long as I am following the river, there will always be peace to succor me through the trials through which I must pass to become the woman the Lord wants me to be.

To the woman who asked if I thought her fears were fears or premonitions, they are probably fears if they are coming right after you have read about a bunch of other kids dying. But, I could be wrong. No matter what, we still ought to live spiritually ready for whatever the Lord would have us endure. And it can't hurt to take extra photos and video of your kids. We all lose our little kids. Most do not die but they ALL grow up. We only have so many opportunities to capture their cute sayings on film. They will only have these sweet little baby faces for so long for pictures. We all need to take a minute every couple of months to capture our kids in film, video and through journaling. They just grow too quickly. No matter what the future holds, we will be glad we took the time.

News on the Waite Front

Some of you may have noticed that I have missed a few posts this week. I try to post everyday. The problem is that most days I have the time and inspiration for my post at night. The kids are finally in bed and my thoughts always wax more profound at night. This has always been true for me. 

So it has been pretty hard for me to post the last while because I keep falling asleep before my kids do. That and the fact that from 3 p.m. on I have been laid out on the couch, my bed, or in the tub trying not to think about how sick I feel. Yes folks, I guess it is as safe as it ever will be to announce that I am expecting -- 13 weeks now. That makes my due date May 5. Wahoo!

We are very happy about the pregnancy. It has been really hard and really wonderful all at the same time for me. The hormones have just made the grief that much more intense at times, but the hope and work of creating a new life is healing. Plus the sickness, while it basically sucks, is at least distracting. It is hard to focus on your hurting heart when you just want to hurl. 

As for the question I have been asked by all who know thus far -- "Do you want a girl or a boy?" My answer is a decided, "I don't care." I would like a healthy baby. If we are ever going to have a boy, this is probably a good time now that I have this big gap between kids. But I just love little girls. I would love to have another little girl. And I am curious about what it would be like to have a son. So really, I don't care or have any premonitions about that.

Jon on the other hand, well, he has informed the baby it is a boy. And he has a name all picked out. I just roll my eyes at him, his decision that this will be a boy, and his chosen name. I have heard all of that before from him - a few times.

So I still have a few sick weeks left. Usually I start to feel better between 14 and 16 weeks and then finally like food again by 18 weeks. I am just really hoping I am loving food by Thanksgiving. I really love Thanksgiving dinner. It is my favorite meal of the year. My parents are awesome cooks. I really want to be able to enjoy it this year. I should be 17 weeks by then so I am hopeful. 

I will try to start posting in the morning so I don't miss days, but I can't make any guarantees. Some mornings, I just have to go wrangle my little loveys. Judging from the pounding on the ceiling, I think I need to go do that right now.

Never Far Behind

There she is folks. Ann Marie Waite riding her two wheel bicycle. She has spent most of her life trying to catch up to her big sister Sabrina. They are only 19 months apart. She is a quick study and has never been too far behind her big sister to learn things. 

When Sabrina started taking piano lessons, Annie would spend hours figuring out how to play her pieces while Sabrina was at school. When Sabrina was learning to read, Annie was watching over her shoulder and learning right along with her. When we potty trained Sabrina, Annie decided she was done going in her diaper too. (She was just 12 months at the time.) 

So I knew it wouldn't be long after Sabrina learned to ride her bike that Annie took up the interest and learned too. For the record, it took her till Wednesday of this week. Now they are out riding nearly everyday. I am so glad the weather has been so nice. It is wonderful to see them out and doing fun things. 

Thanks for all the wonderful comments you have been writing. They really do perk up my day. Hope you all have a great weekend. I think we will be doing some bike riding.  :)

Way to go my little Ann Marie!

A Proper Memorial

We visited the cemetery today. The marker for Camille's grave is up at last. I was unsure how I would feel when this day came. There is something so ... permanent and real about seeing it there. I was mostly fine at the cemetery. 

I thought the photo was ... a bit different than I expected. She looked really "Harris" in it to me. Sorry the close up I took with my cell phone is too blurry to put up. The name plate looks fine I guess. It just seemed ... too plain, too cold, to lifeless to be a proper memorial to my baby girl so full of life and mischief.

Usually my kids enjoy our visits to see Camille's grave. I think this change in the marker disturbed Lauren. Initially she was excited to see the photo and she walked up and kissed it. But within minutes she was begging to leave. She kept saying she was done seeing Millmills. It was too much she said. I am not sure we ever know the workings of a 3 year old mind, but for her benefit we left.

In the car on the way home, that is when I lost it. How can this be the memorial to the life of my daughter? It can't be. There is no memorial that man can make that would equal her beauty. There is nothing that can really capture or accurately depict the love we hold for her in our hearts or her thoughtful inquisitive personality.

No a proper memorial would have to be something living, something organic, something exquisitely beautiful. As I drove, a thought came to me. My life ... I could make of my life a proper memorial to her. This task seems daunting. And yet, I know with the Savior's help it is possible. I hope that at the end of my life, I will feel I have indeed lived a life worthy of a memorial to the life she did not get to live. I hope in the end both the Savior and Camille will be pleased with this work I create of my life. 

On the way home I stopped by Trader Joe's. It has been a long time since I was last there. I needed my fix on my favorite items there. I walked in to see these staring right at me:

Can I say I love Joe and his trading abilities. Where else do you find beautiful tulips in October for $6.99 a dozen? I bought a couple bunches and took them home. If I could, I would fill my house weekly with beautiful tulips. They are as beautiful and lovely, as organic and free spirited, as independent and driven as my sweet daughter Camille.

I love that tulips all grow in their own way. It makes them look like individual discoverers. Each finding its own path to the light. If anyone has seen some fake tulips as beautiful as these, let me know. That is what I want to fill the vase next to her name plate.

I loved these pink ones with the frayed edges. So feminine. One more shout out to Trader JOE!

Finding Hope in Despair

I have learned some valuable lessons about fighting the good fight with despair over the past 4 months. Pursuant to some comments about how we get through when we feel forsaken, left alone, and silence from heaven, I thought I would share some of what I have learned personally about these subjects.

First, I think everyone gets to a point in their lives where they feel forsaken. For some this comes early in life. For others it may not be until they are in their last days of life on earth. But I personally believe that it will come for all of us. Perhaps for many of us it comes more than once, maybe even multiple times.

These "forsaken" moments are defining opportunities in our existence. They are the most authentic test of our faith. It is easy to stay strong in the faith when we are surrounded by the love of the Lord. It is much more difficult if we are suffering and it seems are prayers go unanswered and we feel only silence from heaven.

Forsaken moments are not a sign of unrighteousness. Some of my greatest heroes had these moments. Nephi in the Book of Mormon when his father died had one of these I believe. Joseph Smith had some of these very dark times in Liberty Jail. And even the Savior felt forsaken as he performed the great and last atoning sacrifice.

The key in these moments is to hold fast to the iron rod or the word of God and stay true to our faith. Even in the darkness and silence we must hold on to our faith with a hope that the darkness will indeed end and light will come again. Sometimes it is nearly impossible to find this hope in the midst of despair. 

I should note here- I am not addressing the illness of depression. That is something with which I am not personally familiar. I have been depressed but have never suffered the illness of depression. I know there is a difference and those suffering from the illness should seek the medical help they deem appropriate to help them in that affliction.  

But if that is not your situation, and you find yourself feeling forsaken and in despair, may I offer one insight that has come to me through this trial of losing Camille. As you can imagine, I have had some pretty dark hours through this. I had faced these "forsaken" moments before this, but I have experienced a whole new level of despair and "forsaken" moments through this. 

One truth that has become apparent to me is how difficult it is to hear the Lord or feel His love or support when we are in the depths of despair. I think it is still there. But I think we are unable to feel it without faith and hope in our hearts. I have thought back on all the "forsaken" moments in my life and noticed a pattern of hopelessness in them. I did have desire to hear from heaven in these moments, but honestly I was too far into self pity, or despair to really have hope or faith in my heart. 

Perhaps this is just true for me. But I feel I have to have hope and faith in my heart to feel the support from heaven that I believe the Lord unfailingly sends me. Since coming to this enlightening, I have tried in my dark hours to keep my mind firmly planted in faith that heaven is near. Each time, I have felt peace in the silence of my empty nursery. I have felt words come to my mind of support and encouragement from armies of kindred spirits sent to buoy me up with understanding companionship.

In one of my lowest hours, definitely the lowest after leaving the hospital, I felt complete despair and felt forsaken. I had no faith that the Lord would answer my prayers or help me in my time of need. In this hopeless state I prayed and felt the silence. (This was before I had the epiphany that I needed hope to hear the help.) At this point, I reached out for my life preserver here on earth. I called my parents. My mother pointed out how richly my life was blessed. At the time, her words rang on nearly deaf ears. I could not see my blessings at that point. Or at least I could not see any of them continuing. 

I believe my parents began to pray for me this day. They were not in town and thus could not rush over to my aid. But they used their faith in praying for me when my own faith was so lacking. I pulled myself step by step out of my closet and down to my children. I turned on Hello Dolly to fill our house with cheerful music. By the end of the day, the storm had lifted. The Lord provided to me a small sign of his love and support to me and my family and my faith was once again restored.

When we are in despair too deep to pull ourselves out, we must reach out to our earthly life preservers, whoever they may be. A sister, a friend, a parent, a sibling, a relief society president, a bishop, a visiting teacher, a stranger on a blog. We all need earthly life preservers to pray in faith for us when our faith is so low we cannot not hear the answers to our own prayers.

I hope these thoughts are helpful to someone out there. I think there were many good talks in General Conference on hope. I loved Elder Uchtdorf's advice to serve others in an effort to find hope. Those are all talks I will be reviewing in the coming months.

May we all find the hope and faith necessary to find the light at the end of the tunnel of our forsaken moments.

Fighting the Good Fight

Tonight I will share a story from my past that is rather simple but has had a profound impact on my life and my self image. It is part of the post in my head from last week on finding hope in times of despair. Hopefully tomorrow evening I will have the energy to finish off the second half of that post.

Years ago, when I was single and in my 3rd year of college I had a sad and lonely night. These were not uncommon for me. I was far more emotionally unstable in my single years. I do not remember with clarity the circumstances that led to my depressed state. They are not important to the story. Suffice it to say I was feeling pretty low. I had a nice mix of self pity, self loathing, and loneliness going around in my heart and head. 

So like any well trained Christian girl, I turned to my Heavenly Father in prayer. I knelt down by my bed swimming in all these depressing thoughts. As I prepared to say my prayers I began to think. My thoughts followed the following line of reasoning. 

"My Father in Heaven loves me. I know that much. But right now I do not love myself and I do not feel the love of others. Why am I feeling like this? Surely Heavenly Father does not want me to feel like this. If He loves me as much as my own father does He would not want me to feel this way."

Here is when the lightbulb goes off.

"Oh. So if this feeling is not from the Lord, it must be from Satan. Yes that makes sense. Satan would want me to feel alone and unloved and unlovable. Wait a minute. That must mean he is winning right now. No no. That is not good. I cannot let him win."

At this point I wrapped my arms around myself tight and gave myself a big hug. Someone needed to do it and I was the only one in the room. So I hugged myself. As I did this, I felt strength come into me. In my minds eye I saw an image. It was an image of myself in the pre existence. I am fairly certain the image I saw was not really what I actually looked like physically before I was born. But I am certain that the personality of the girl I saw was me. I saw a scrappy, determined, and unyielding fighter full of strength, courage and grit. I knew it was me. In that instant I knew just how strong I could be, how strong I had been.

No this was not a battle Satan was going to win, trying to get me all down and depressed. My mind become firm on this quickly and I said out loud "You are not going to win this, Satan. You will not win me. I will not let you." Saying it out loud was like cementing my thoughts. It made the decision real. And I believe it ended Satan's hope in the matter when he or whatever servant of his heard me speak it with such finality. 

Instantly, all the negative feeling I had left me. I was no longer depressed. I was still alone and dateless. None of my circumstances had changed. But I knew who I was. I was a fighter unwilling to be beaten, and in this fight, I had won.