The Wood Between the Worlds

October 21, 2012
Sunday came with a chance to take a break from all the running around.  We got to sleep in a bit, and take our time to get ready for 11:00 church with my sister and brother-in-law.

This was our "plan B".  Our "plan A" had been to drive to Palmyra, NY on Saturday and spend all Sunday going to church, and to church history sights (Sacred Grove where Joseph Smith had his First Vision, and The Cumorah Hill, where the Brass Plates were found).  I still really wish we had stuck to "plan A," but the drive was 6 hours each way...and it felt really strange to drive 12 hours round trip for one day.  We will get to Palmyra on another trip...soon, hopefully!

As consolation, we got to go to church in NEW YORK CITY!  We love going to church in other places, and seeing what the congregations are like in other parts of the world.  The gospel of Jesus Christ, according to The Mormon Church (the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is the official name of the Mormon Church) is the same everywhere in the world, no matter which city you attend church in...but the culture of the congregations can be vastly different!  We love people and cultures and learning, so this is a really fun part of traveling for us.  And the church building!  In NYC...I've never seen anything like it!

*I started this blog post weeks ago, but never had time to finish it...and wasn't really sure I was going to until today.  I had been having the desire to lighten up the blog a little, as it's been heavy with my thoughts lately, and I was worried that my friends and family have not been enjoying that.  But today as I was trying so hard to get the computer to upload my pictures from day 2 of our New York trip...they just wouldn't upload...they still have not (something is seriously wrong with our internet).  So I took that as my nudge to finish this post instead.  I know it is what I needed to write today.  

NEWSFLASH: I have changed positions since I wrote this blog entry, two years ago: {i need a girl}.
 
Immediately after we lost Elsa, I knew we were going to have another girl.  I pictured in my mind exactly how beautiful our story would be in the end...mother looses daughter, mother grieves honorably, mother puts all her trust in God, and finally mother gives birth to another healthy, living daughter.  Perfect.  Everyone in the land rejoices.  And they live happily ever after.

Perfect, in my eyes...but as we soon come to learn, that is NOT how the Lord's timetable for our lives will proceed.  And I knew it even before Elsa was gone, that we were having another boy.  I prayed, I pleaded, and I bargained for another girl first.  I promised we WOULD have another baby boy if He wanted us to, if He would send another girl first.  I THOUGHT it was what I NEEDED to help me heal.

Before we were pregnant with Oliver, I had this perfect, peaceful feeling that God was sending us a boy and that he was going to be wonderful.  We were going to love him so much, and he would be everything that we needed.  As the pregnancy commenced and proceeded, I pushed away those feelings and convince myself that of course God would send us another girl. 

 It took a while after we had Oliver to be happy with him.  I'll be honest there, but once I did wonderful love entered into my life.  And then I thought "if I start praying now, surely my next baby will be a girl."  So I would pray and ask for a girl every morning and every night.  And then I would ask if He was going to send me a girl.  I always get the answer "yes".  But then I would ask if my next baby would be a girl {because heavens knows I am impatient and have already waited through two pregnancies for a girl when I thought I was already getting one...I can't wait anymore!}.  But my answer always felt like boy next, boy next.  I had a hard time accepting that and would push that feeling away and only dwell on the good feeling I got when I prayed about  a girl.  {Enter Milo, whom we adore.  It only took one instant for me to be happy with him-it was the instant I caught him in the birth tub.} 

Truly I have wearied the Lord with all of my prayers on this subject.  I had heard of other women praying for the gender they wanted, and then getting it...and I thought if it worked for them, it should work for me.  But the thing I didn't get was that the Lord knows each of us, sees the big picture and knows exactly what we need.  But everywhere I look, the spirit is teaching me to "ask, and ye shall receive."  And I believe that with all of my heart.  So I continue to pray.  I had this experience a couple of months ago where I was asking the Lord if I was going to have a girl, or if we could expect to have all boys...when suddenly I received a different answer than before.  The spirit told me that we would have all boys until we get Elsa back.  I fought that answer in my heart.  NO!  How could that be!  But then something changed within me: after only a few moments, I accepted that answer.  Ok.  We will have another baby and it will be another boy...if that's what we need to do, that's what we'll do.  And we will be happy.  For quite a few years I have felt a fraction of what Mary, the mother of Jesus must have felt: I have willingly become a vessel for the children God wants me to have, no matter the cost to my heart.  "Be it unto me, according to thy will."

As soon as I accepted that answer, almost immediately I felt a burning in my chest that we would have another girl, and that previous answer was just a test to see if I could let go of my will and trust the Lord.  Wow!  So now I feel like I'm setting myself up for a win-win situation on my next baby because if I get a girl, great!  But if I get another boy, I know with all of my being that it will be the Lord's will and we WILL love it.  Before I went to Oliver's ultrasound, I remember telling someone the line from Elder Wirthin's talk a few years back "come what may, and love it."  I said it, but I had no idea that I didn't really mean it.  But now I mean it.  I really do.

Just about a few weeks after this experience we watched general conference.  There were several amazing talks that caught my attention, which I already wrote about...but one talk I didn't write about was President Henry B. Eyring's "Where is the Pavilion".  This talk was like a follow up message from the Lord to me, about the above experience...reinforcing that yes, I had created a pavilion between the Lord and I by fighting His answers previously.  But by accepting them, I was removing the pavilion giving me direct access to God.  President Eyring's daughter in law removed the pavilion by finally giving up her desire to have another baby, and leaving it in the Lord's hands.  I removed the pavilion by accepting, truly accepting the baby that God needs us to have.

Then, if that weren't enough, last Sunday a friend on Facebook posted a link to a blog by CJane (which I have never read before) about her experience with infertility.  It was amazing how it corresponded with the experience that I have had.  Even though I have never had fertility issues, I could relate to exactly what she was saying.  It's like I've had girl fertility and girl loss problems.  I don't mean to mock anyone who has gone through fertility problems, because I only gained a glimpse of what that must be like when Elsa died and I had to wait another frustrating year without a baby.  But when CJane shared that although she experienced 5 years of infertility, she always knew she would conceive a baby, AND before she conceived she was finally able to be happy and to accept her life.  Wow.  I GET that.

Ok, one more thought...I'm sorry if this post is perfectly boring.  It is helping me so much to get all my thoughts out.  Today I stayed home from church with two sick babies.  I wanted to review last month's conference talks during church time, but my toddler just wouldn't have that!  He was grouching at me for doing anything that didn't include paying attention to him.  So we decided to pick out a living scriptures dvd to watch together instead...cuddled on the couch.  That was acceptable to him.  First we watched The Lord's Prayer, and the spirit cemented my earlier thought in this post about prayer...that you can never pray too much for something you are asking the Lord for.  I won't give up until I die.  But the second movie we watched was I think The Signs of the Times, and it was about the last days of the Savior before His sacrifice.

I saw that story in a new way today:
The Jewish people were in bondage to the overbearing Roman Empire.  They were hoping for a miracle, a Messiah to deliver them.  Even the apostles just a few days before the crucifixion were wondering when He was going to pronounce himself King, and deliver them from the Romans.  And truly that was what they needed!  Truly that was not a wrong thing for them to desire.  They believed that He was the Son of God, and the Messiah, and that He could perform miracles.  Then the next thing they knew, He allowed Himself to be taken and crucified.  It must have felt like a punch in the gut to them.  But they could not see the whole picture.  They could not see that IF He threw down the Romans and was not crucified, all mankind would be lost forever.  They could not see what a HUGE frustration to the plan of salvation it would have been, if He had given them the temporal deliverance from their earthly bondage.
Likewise, I know that when my prayers were not answered like I thought they were going to be, and when I did not receive the good things that I so greatly desired and prayed so hard for...I know there is a bigger picture.  I MUCH bigger picture, that I cannot fully see.  I know that God has a great purpose for me, that I cannot always see.  But like the original Apostles, I still believe in Him.  I still know He loves me.  And little by little that bigger picture is being revealed.  But it probably will remain somewhat of a mystery to me until after I die.  And that's ok.

The question may come to anyone who reads this (as it has come to my mind, and also to my husband's) of why I want a daughter so badly.  Why do I put myself through this?  Why do I go to all the trouble to pray and think all of this through?  Why go to all of the trouble to write this all out?  And the answer is simple:  I have ALWAYS felt I was going to have a daughter.  Always.  Sometimes I ask myself the question: was Elsa that daughter I always felt?  But the spirit tells me, there is another.  "Faith in the Lord includes faith in His timing." -Elder Neil A. Maxwell 

Yet, I know we will have one AMAZING life if we have all boys.  Because if we do, I know the Lord's plan is SO MUCH bigger than mine.  So although I would greatly like another girl, I do NOT need another girl.                  

I really should be in bed right now...but I feel like I need to get my thoughts and feelings down before I forget.

As to why I am starting this so late...my toddler has decided that it is about time he starts having an attitude and some independence.  And it took me THREE hours to get him to bed tonight.  I eventually had to give in and lay down with him so he would fall asleep.  It took him so long that I fell asleep too. So technically I already have a couple of hours of sleep behind me for tonight.  Let's hope this phase doesn't last long.  He's been a great sleeper for the past year, and I'm hoping that tonight's debacle was due to him napping until 7:30 pm.  Yeah...it was kind of one of those moments that we were blissfully unaware of how late it was getting.  WON'T let it happen again!

Anyway...wow!  It seems like I *just* posted about spring conference not too long ago, and here we are again!  Except this time I am not pregnant and I have a three month old baby.  Woah!  But it seems like General Conference is getting more and more applicable to my life each and every session.  Or maybe I'm growing more aware of the spiritual prompting that Heavenly Father is sending me.  Either way, more and more of the talks seem to apply just to me...and that is an amazing feeling.  To think that I'm important enough to Heavenly Father that He would have his leaders and apostles speak about something I need to hear (I'm sure lots of other people needed to hear them too, but still!).

Here are just a few of the talks that I can recall off the top of my head:
President Thomas S. Monson's talk where the age of missionary service is lowered to 18 for men and 19 for women:
WOW!  My first thought is that my son could be leaving on a mission in 7 and a half years, if he chooses to...no pressure to leave that soon!
My second thought is that I would've gone on a mission if the age was 19 instead of 21.  I can't imagine how different my life would've been.  I love the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, and I always have.  I REALLY wanted to serve a mission.  But alas, I met my husband when we were 17, he left on a mission when we were 19, and he came home when we were 21.  I decided to marry him instead of leaving him for another year and a half.  That was a great decision, and I have no regrets, because during that time I was able to graduate from college AND spend my summers serving the Young Women of our church at Brighton LDS Camp.  I did what the Lord wanted me to do with that time.  
And last of all, WOW!  I got complete goosebumps when I saw the newsfeed on my facebook account of all the Young Women who are 18 and 19, how excited they are about this new change, and how many of them are planning to go on a mission earlier, and what that means for our world.  How is our world going to be changing in the next few years with this many more missionaries out there?  How many more people will have the opportunity to learn of our Savior's love, and personal revelation through the holy ghost, and the saving ordinances that we participate in...including the one that allows families to be sealed together during this life, so that we can always be a family after we die?  How much sooner is this going to get the earth ready for the return of our Savior?  How much sooner is this going to make the great resurrection and the time that I get to hold Elsa again?  All of these things will be wonderful, and I hope know that these new missionaries will make a great difference in our world.

Elder Bowen's talk about his little boy that died too soon:
Ah!  How sad it is that our children can die before their parents!  This talk was such a comfort though, to know that other people...even General Authorities are going through the same challenges as I am, and some of us are.  And that it is ok to know that we will never be the same until we are reunited as a family again.  And to know that God is aware of me (and all of us baby-loss parents) to send us that message.

President Eyring's talk about submitting to the Lord's will and making ourselves more available to His will.  Actually there were many, many talks about being disciples of Jesus and making ourselves totally available to His will.  Elder Holland, Elder Hales, Elder Osguthorpe, Elder Bednar and President Monson's concluding remarks.

There were also a few talks specifically about how the Lord is aware of each of His children individually.  I will have to go through and listen to all the talks again to sort them out, but the main one that sticks out to me is actually from the Relief Society broadcast from last weekend.
The Second Counselor Linda S. Reeves gave a talk which I felt was very similar to President Eyring's talk on Saturday.  It seemed to speak to me specifically in certain ways that are just a little too private for me to share just yet...maybe someday.  But it helped me greatly feel that the Lord is aware of me.  But to add on my personal witness that the Lord is aware of me, I am going to share a very personal story from the day that Elsa was born.  I wondered if I would ever feel the prompting to share this story publicly but after this General Conference, I feel like I must add my very sacred story of the knowledge I have that the Lord is real, and that He loves me very much.  And THIS my friends (if you're still reading this far then truly you are my friend) is THE STORY that got me through (and still gets me through) the tragedy of Elsa's death.

This story starts on a Sunday.  It is Stake Conference, and I am 38.5 weeks pregnant.  I am having contractions in the morning.  I wonder if I should go.  Since it does not seem like active labor yet, I decide to go to stake conference and sit through the two hour meeting while I'm having contractions.  I don't remember any of the talks from this meeting.  I don't remember who spoke or what they said.  But what I do remember, just like it was yesterday, was our Stake President getting up in front of the pulpit before the opening song (Hymn #52, The Day Dawn Is Breaking) and saying "The Lord wants us to sing this song today.  I don't know why, but He does."  I have never seen or heard of that happening before: someone getting up and saying specifically that the Lord chose a hymn, so it really touched me and I felt that *I* had better pay close attention to the words of the song.  The hymn is all about the Second Coming, the Morning of the First Resurrection, the Millennium, happy reunion with our loved ones lost.  So I think to myself, WOW!  I wonder why the Lord wants us to sing this hymn?  Is the Millennium coming soon?  Cool!  And I sit through the rest of the meeting, not really listening to the speakers because I am focusing on contractions that are getting stronger and closer together.  And I am trying to keep my little boys (4 years old and 7 years old) from touching me or climbing on me.  Yow!  And I'm feeling kind of excited and hopeful that labor is starting and that my baby girl might be born today!  And I'm sitting there with no conscious idea of what has already happened to my baby girl.
So what happens next, I've already shared.  I've already shared Elsa's birth story.  You can go back and read it if you like.  It's the most popular post on my blog.  It might have gotten my midwives entangled in a stupid, unfounded little political mess.
Right after Elsa is born is when this story ties back in.  I realized *why exactly* the Lord wanted us to sing "The Day Dawn Is Breaking" at Stake Conference, and why it was so important that our Stake President did something completely out of the ordinary by getting up and telling us so.  That was for me.  Out of everyone in the stake, it was for me.  AND, the Lord did that for me.  He did that to let me know that He was aware of my immense trial that would lie before me.  He did that to reassure me that it was part of His plan.  He did that to let me know what a special time the Morning of the First Resurrection was going to be for me.  He did that to reassure me that I would get Elsa back, irregardless of the fact that she was stillborn and didn't take her first breath.  He did that for me.  And I know it!  Whenever I think about it, it brings me great comfort.  I can feel His arms wrapped around me, and know that He is aware of me.
My friends, I know that the Savior lives, and that He is aware of each of us.              

8.5.12

We were lucky that Brent's parents were able to come up to Oregon for Milo's baby blessing.  Their LDS mission in France was briefly interrupted by a health issue, which required surgery and a few months of recovery.  During their recovery time, they traveled the Western states, visiting family.  It was good fortune that their visit coincided with the day we had planned to bless Milo at our church.  Since we just moved to a new ward congregation and didn't know anyone, and have no other close LDS family up here...it was a good thing they came to be in the very small blessing circle.  I'm told it was a wonderful, short blessing!  I was trying so hard to keep one of my kids quiet so I could listen to it, that before I knew it, it was over!  Ah, the joys...  Anyway, here is the day in pictures:

I just wanted to get on here quick and say sorry for my post last night. Several nights of little sleep have caught up with me and it's been a little tough. But that's no excuse. I love my life, and I'm grateful. I'm excited to exercise for myself...so I can feel good and happy. Whether or not I get pregnant again. And as far as that subject goes, I promise I will be happy whatever happens. I told myself when I was pregnant with Milo that whether girl or boy, I would be happy. Even if I have 10 boys and no more girls, I refuse to grow old, sad and bitter.  I really hope we get another girl. I have all the faith and hope in the world that God could give us that blessing if it is His will. And we will pray about it, and follow His will. That's been my big lesson through all this...just learning to trust His plan for me. It's SO HARD to do. I like control. But I am slowly learning to let go...  And as for comparing myself to others...it is poison!  It only brings misery. That is another big lesson..one in which, admittedly I've been struggling with my whole life. I need to be happy as me, because that's what I have.  I have so many friends having girls right now. Several of them are having their first girl after many boys. A couple of them are having a girl after loosing a girl and then having a boy. I feel like I'm being bombarded with all these mini tests. I will not be jealous, I will NOT be jealous!  It's easy to feel happy for them, but hard to not be jealous too.
If you read this, thanks.

This is me speaking, today.  Not two months ago.  I'm going to skip a bunch of stuff to just get some thoughts down on here.  Life has gotten a *bit* busier with four kids than it was with two or three...but it is especially busy because the two youngest are a baby and a busy, curious toddler.  As much as I want to keep up on the blog...for my personal record, and for the friends and family we don't get to see much...it is kind of falling by the wayside.  The first day of school is tomorrow so hopefully that means things will get less hectic, we'll be doing less stuff, I'll have less to blog about, and can catch up.

Did I mention I am a bit busier?  Ok...really I'm getting spanked!  It was *really* hard there for a while when baby wanted to nurse 24/7 and toddler was getting into everything.  Baby wouldn't let me put him down and toddler resented that and started hitting him.  Toddler is also very fond of the toilet, and that's not a good combination.  *Sigh*.  I can justify all of this insanity because I am SO, SO grateful to have healthy, breathing babies.  While it does seem to be getting better in the baby neediness department and the toddler jealousy department...there were still those days that I had to break down and cry.  UG!  As much as I love my two babies, I can't help from thinking that we probably would've been done having babies after Elsa, if she hadn't have died...and I could be avoiding all this insanity!  (Well we might have had one more...maybe).  And I wonder why it is that some of my other friends got to have their two boys and one girl and head on their merry way...and we didn't.  I know that everyone has their share of hardships, and I understand that others' hardships lie in another area...and it doesn't do any good to wish my trials were different because they aren't.  And honestly, the biggest secret I've learned through all of this is that gratitude is the only way to be happy.  And I am SO grateful.
And happy.  But I'm also sad.  It's a dichotomy that I think you can only understand if you've lost a very dear one.  And so now we decide...do we keep having kids until we get another girl (can you picture me in a 15 passenger van...yeah, me neither), so the only thing I'm left mourning for is Elsa and not the loss of having a daughter {in this life} all together?  Or do we adopt a girl?  Adoption would be a sure thing...but NOT an easy road.  Unless someone has a girl they want to give me.  Someone GIVE ME A GIRL!  Please.  {I can be polite}.  But we have some time to think about this...because like I said, I'm pretty tied up at the moment.

Have I mentioned that for a split second, I thought we might be adopting a baby a few weeks before Milo was born.  Crazy, huh?  My midwife had a client that needed a family for her baby at the last minute because she was backing out of her adoption agency.  The client didn't know the gender.  I thought it might be a girl, and it was.  But we didn't get picked, and I'm glad.  Can you imagine my life if I had twins and a toddler?  Think I'm busy now??  No, seriously...we could have handled it, but I don't know how much we would've enjoyed or even remembered.      

I didn't intend for this to be a whining post, and I'm sorry.  I know that life isn't fair, and regardless of that I know that I am abundantly, ABUNDANTLY blessed in every aspect of my life.  But I did want to say that school starts tomorrow!!  And despite the fact that I will be sad to say goodbye to two great helpers with the baby/toddler and two great house cleaners, I will NOT miss their teasing and fighting!  And despite the fact that I will miss summer and sunshine and spontaneous trips to the beach (but let's face it: it's not really spontaneous if it takes until noon to get out the door), I will be happy to have structure again.  I will be happy to finally be able to potty train my toilet loving toddler, because we'll actually be home!  It will feel so good to get into a regular exercise routine and get back in shape, so I can help kick that baby pudge out the door...and let's face it: so I can get into my skinny jeans again just to get pregnant again.  Unless someone gives me a girl in the meantime!  I'll also be excited to have time to sew and can and look at all the glorious recipes I've pinned on pinterest so I can plan my menu and grocery shopping around some fun new recipes!  And BLOG!  And start cloth diapering again because I'll actually be home to wash them.  And maybe join a midwifery study group!

So if you are one of my friends who is 1) excitedly awaiting the arrival of a baby girl 2) sending your precious 3 year old daughter off to preschool, or 3) feeling guilty over the arrival of your newest baby because you no longer mourn your angel baby as much...know that I love you, and I'm happy for you.  And wishing I was feeling the same.  But I'm also grateful that I'm not...because I am in LOVE with Oliver and Milo.  And I know that Elsa really is right here with me.
So ENJOY!    

I am very flattered that so many friends and family compliment our name choices, and are curious to know what our kids names mean to us.  We take naming our children very seriously, and we search high and low for the perfect name.  

Milo's birth story starts at the end of Oliver's birth story.

Because Oliver's birth was so fast and furious {I believe I used the words "like a train plowing through me"}, I developed an irrational fear of birth which lasted throughout Milo's pregnancy.  Not that birth isn't something to be feared or better yet, respected...because it is a powerful event in the continuum of a woman's life.  But I say irrational because I had already given birth without an epidural 4 times before this, and obviously knew I could do it again.  I just really didn't want to.  I also had this idea that because my last two babies came around 38 weeks, that this baby would also *most likely* come early.

I have this app on my ipod called "Contraction Timer".  It is thanks to this app that I can look back and accurately recall how many times I *thought* I might be going into labor with this baby (and these are just the contractions that hung around long enough for me to dare to start recording them).  Here is a brief timeline:
June 9- (37 weeks) we moved...MAJOR.
June 13- several hours of strong contractions in the morning, fizzed out before I got out of bed.  
June 19- (38 weeks) contractions in the middle of the night.
June 20 (the day before Toby's birthday...it turns out he did NOT want this baby to come on his birthday) - we finished cleaning our old house, and drove across town to turn in the keys.  I thought for sure that once we got past this deadline that I would go right into labor.  Before we even left I was having contractions that felt like early labor, so I packed all my stuff for the birth center just in case.  We turned in the keys, and decided to go out to dinner for Toby's birthday at the Old Spaghetti Factory.  In the car I was working with some serious contractions.  We got stuck in rush hour traffic, but were very close to one of the birth centers (not the one I was planning on birthing at...but plans could easily change).  We got to the restaurant with the hope that my labor would pick up strong after dinner, and we could just drive straight to the birth center and put the kids to bed in the next room while I gave birth.  Well by the time dinner was over, so were the contractions...
 
Did I mention that I was scared?  By this point I was definitely ready for it to happen, but I had not done any preparation for this birth.  Normally I prepare by reading some good birth stories from one of Ina May Gaskin's famous books.  But when I thought about reading birth stories, it reminded me how scared I was that it was going to be too intense again.  Finally, I started into my copy of Spiritual Midwifery, and it did not disappoint.  I remembered that I needed to find a way to relax.  My contractions only come on hard when I'm resting and nice and relaxed.  All the strenuous work I had been and was continuing to do were making me too uptight.  I had Brent give me a blessing, which was beautiful and reassuring.  I downloaded a free hypnobabies relaxation mp3.  All of these things helped.  But most of all I prayed.  I prayed that I would be brave.  I prayed that this labor would be nice and easy and not so intense (like my dream, right?).  I envisioned it.  

June 26-  (39 weeks, and Brent's last of 5 available days to be there) Contractions all afternoon and evening, til they died out.  I felt like I was trying to force labor to happen on a day that Brent was home so I wouldn't end up stuck in hard labor by myself at home.  I was not quite sure how the logistics of this birth were going to work out.  The plan was, if Brent was home and it was during the day, we would meet my midwife at the birth center.  If Brent was gone at work and my labor wasn't too hard yet, I was going to try to drive myself and the kids to the birth center and call my sister to come sit with the kids (or pick them up if it was taking longer than expected).  The only problem with that plan is that once I know for sure I'm in labor, my contractions would be hard...probably too hard to drive.  But if I couldn't drive myself, or it was night and the kids were already in bed, we were planning on having the baby at home.  I really did NOT want to have the baby at home this time.  I didn't feel like I had a good space to set up the birth tub.  Then my sister called and told me she was sick.  Dang!  There went that plan.  Then Brent told me that the hose adapter for our bathroom faucet (to fill the birth tub) was not the same size as the faucet in our new house.  Dang again!  So Brent and I had a regrouping session.  We decided that we would go to the birth center no matter what.  And since I didn't feel like we had time to call someone to come sit with our kids, we were going to take them with us...day or night.

July 1- (40 weeks, and the first time I made it to my due date since my first baby)  It was Sunday and the night before we were hanging out with our friends down on C'est Naturelle Farm talking about essential oils and tasting some of their pastured pork.  My friend Vernie came over to give me a massage.  She claimed that her record of putting pregnant women into labor was 2 for 2.  It was the most relaxed I've probably been during my whole pregnancy.  I went home that night and went to bed, only to wake up to contractions at 4 am.  I continued to have contractions until 7, when I got up to make breakfast for the family and get ready for church.  I can tell that labor is going to stick if I switch activities and the contractions keep coming.  They unfortunately did NOT.  I threw myself on my bed in frustration, wondering if this was ever going to happen...trying NOT to imagine how big my baby must be getting by now (the bigger the baby, the more painful the birth right?).  So we went to church (where I got lots of comments about still not having the baby, sigh!), came home, hang out, nothing happened...so we put the kids to bed and Brent goes to bed, but I'm having contractions again.  And every time my contractions started up at night in the past couple of weeks, I just went to sleep.  I was too tired from all the moving, cleaning and unpacking to have a baby each of those nights.  Plus I didn't want to have the baby at home.  But I finally realized that if I wanted to have this baby, it was going to have to be at night.  So I decided to stay awake and work with the contractions.

At midnight on July 2, I was lying in bed checking pinterest and facebook on my ipod.  My contractions were getting harder, but they were still 20 minutes apart.  Still, I have learned that my contractions aren't always close together.  I remember with Elsa's labor they stayed 10 minutes apart the whole time.  And that the intensity of the contractions is more telling than the time between them.  I was not scared of this part of labor.  I actually enjoy working with the contractions...getting to a state of tranquility, deep breathing and total relaxation.  I was scared of getting to the part where you have to push that baby out.  Anyway, at 12:40 I had a very intense contraction that lasted for two and a half minutes.  It left me shaking.  But I did NOT want to wake everyone up and call my midwife at this hour if this was going to stop again.  On the other hand, I did not want to have a baby at home with no midwife!  So I decided that I would wait and see if my next contraction was that hard or even harder, I would wake everyone up and we would go.  So at 1 am, I had a contraction that fell under the category of "even harder".  I woke Brent up and told him we better go.  I called my midwife, who was still awake doing payroll (ha!).  I messaged my friend Tara, who was planning to come and do pictures again...but I just didn't have the heart to call her and wake her up!  She was due with her baby #5 too, and had been having weeks of on again, off again contractions just like me...and could be going into labor any time!  We were hoping that I'd have my baby during the day again so she wouldn't have to loose any sleep...but as it was she would've lost the whole night of sleep (and she ended up having her baby the next day, so I'm glad I didn't call her).  Brent grabbed all the kids out of bed and put them in the car, while I rounded up all the rest of the stuff I wanted to bring to the birth center.

We got to the birth center at about 1:30 am.  I had 1-2 contractions in the car (which I was dreading...I can't relax as well with all the jerking and bumping...another reason why I chose home birth with my others), but these contractions weren't as hard.  The apprentice (Bernadette) got there about 5 minutes after us, and my midwife (Jennifer) got there shortly thereafter.  And surprise!  My other midwife (Jesica) arrived right after Jennifer.  I didn't think Jesica was going to make it to this birth since she had the month of June off (and I was SURE I was going to have the baby in June, haha!).

We took the kids upstairs and plopped them in the bed in the room next to the room I was planning on giving birth in.  The whole transporting of the kids was a lot smoother and easier than I thought it was going to be.  However, by this time, they were wired, excited and were NOT going back to sleep!  Especially Ollie, who is used sleeping in a crib.  Thankfully, they stayed in the dark room and were relatively quiet.

Jennifer went in to my birth room and filled up the tub...I eyed it suspiciously, still not sure if I was ready to get in and push.  After getting in the tub with my last three births, that's where things got intense!  So I wandered around the room, talking to my midwives who by now are old friends.  I tried laying down on the bed between contractions, but that was pretty uncomfortable.








  

Before I can write Milo's birth story, or even explain the meaning of his name...I feel like there is a lot more of the story which needs to be recorded.  I had a lot more processing to do once again.  I struggle in knowing how much of it I should make public...I do not want anyone to misinterpret my story.  But because I have often felt so alone on my path, I feel like I should share some of the struggles and triumphs I've had...in hopes that maybe it will help at least one other person out there.

After loosing Elsa, part of the reassurance I felt from the Lord was that I would be able to have another daughter.  I felt for sure He would give me that daughter right away, so I was surprised when my next baby was Ollie.  It took me a long time to get over the fact that he wasn't a girl, which is such a conflicting emotion to have when you're about to have a miraculous new baby.  Actually, it took me until Ollie was about 9 months old to stop feeling so sad that he wasn't another girl.  But then a miraculous thing happened...I grew to love Oliver SO much that I knew I would never want a girl instead of him.  People told me that would happen, but I didn't believe them.  Life was so unfair, and I was cheated.  As much as I tried not to feel that way, I did.  But Ollie wiggled his cute little smile and personality into my heart, and then I realized it was ok.  More than ok.  Time with him has gone so quickly, and he has grown up to be a little boy before I could even blink.


The next event occurred last September, when I had a dream...several dreams actually.  My first dream was so real and vivid that when I woke up, it lingered.  I couldn't stop thinking about it and the sweet, peaceful feeling accompanied the dream.  The dream took place at my midwives' office (the birth center).  I was there for a routine prenatal exam and when I was giving a urine sample, I felt a strong urge to push...so I did.  After the easiest labor ever...I caught a long, slender baby all by myself in the bathroom.  When the baby came out, I was amazed...but I remembered to check to see which gender the baby was...and it was a girl!  I was lifted up in sublime rapture...and that was the feeling that lingered with me throughout the rest of the day (and the feeling still continues).  In the space of the next two weeks I had several more dreams about having a girl.  I started to pray about it, and felt like maybe we should considered having another baby sooner than we thought we were going to.  Then at October General Conference, Brent had an impression that he needed to get prepared to raise a daughter.  We thought for sure we were going to have a baby girl, and shortly thereafter found out we were pregnant.  


I spent the first half of my pregnancy feeling pretty sure that God was finally going to send us another daughter.  Then before my ultrasound, I had a distinct impression that my children were not for me.  They were not my possessions to dress up and parade around.  Instead they are the children that God needs me to raise.  He has a calling for me, and it is to take care of the spirits that He needs to send to me right now.  And that He loves me very much, even if He does not answer my prayers how or when I want Him to.  I started to have the feeling that our baby might not be a girl...and realized that I needed to prepare myself for the possibility that we might have another boy.  I knew from my experience with Oliver that another boy could be and would be amazing...but I didn't want to spend the rest of my pregnancy disappointed like I did with Oliver's pregnancy, so we decided not to find out the gender.  


When we went to have the ultrasound, all I had to do was look at my baby's face and I knew it was a boy.  So I spent the rest of my pregnancy 90% sure that the baby was a boy.  However, I still couldn't shake the profound dream that I had before I got pregnant...so I couldn't 100% convince myself it was a boy.  Most of the time I was completely fine with the baby being another boy.  But I had my moments of wondering why God would do this to me and how the circumstances of my life could be so unfair (especially compared to other's around me who had a baby girl who didn't die).  


There was a time where I searched for someone who I could relate with...someone who would understand what I was going through.  I have several friends who only have boys, who can understand the disappointment in not having a girl; and I have several friends who have lost a baby.  But I do not know ANYONE who has all of one gender and the baby they lost was the opposite gender.  I was feeling so alone.  It just seemed like God did not do that to anyone, because it was too much!  I came to the realization that whichever gender my baby was going to be, it was going to be difficult sometimes...because I lost my baby girl, and I'm going to be feeling that for the rest of my life.  I was able to then realize that I have two separate issues going on...I lost a baby, AND I really want a girl.  It was in a moment of inspiration that I remembered one of my roommates from collage.  Her parent's story was influential.  They were a young couple, living in Finland when they had their first baby...a boy.  Next they had a girl (my roommate), and their 2 year old son died of cancer.  This event would shape the rest of their lives.  When they met the missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (the Mormon church) (my church), they normally would not have been interested in the church.  But they were told that through the ordinances administered in the church, families are sealed together forever.  They could have the chance to raise their precious son again...and they were converted.  My roommate's father became a cancer researcher at a prominent Ivy League University in the United States.  They went on to have 3 more daughters (4 including my roommate) before they finally had another son.  I can imagine how they must have yearned for another son.  Anyway, it is a blessing to have known this particular roommate...because for one thing, she was an amazing friend and very interesting to get to know her and her family's story...but I never could have guessed that so many years later, her families story would come to my mind and help me know that I am not the only one this has happened to.  


Still there were (and still will be, I'm sure) days where I wish I could have my daughter and be done having kids.  More and more of my friends are saying they are done having kids...many of them have two boys and one girl.  There are days where I am so tired and can't possibly imagine adding any more kids to the mix, although I still feel that daughter is coming...but then I wake up the next morning and everything is better, and I realized that those crazy days are fewer and farther between.  But on one of those particularly tumultuous day, I was searching for an answer, and on a whim decided to type my question into google.  It was for sure an answer to my prayer that the google search engine came back with this article by Elder Richard G. Scott (who seems to be having lots of articles I can relate to lately). It is all about how we need to trust in the Lord through our adversities, and trust that they will be for our good.  That was a turning point for me, in which I decided that I was going to be happy with whatever gender the Lord sends to us.  That I can trust in Him that there is a great purpose for my willingness and ability to be pregnant and grow bodies for His spirit children (whether they use them now or later)...and there is also a great purpose in the tests and trials that I have had, will continue to have, and in which I have already seen great blessings as a result of in this life.


So it came to very little surprise to me when this baby came out, and he was a boy!  But the one thing that has changed during this pregnancy is my perspective and my desire to do the Lord's will...and my attitude that I can choose to be happy with what I have been given.  And for certain, my soul has been filled with complete gratitude and joy.  And I know I will be ok...even if I never end up with another girl in this life (although I would still really like one!).  I know I could be a really great mama to girls or boys...so I'm just going to go ahead and trust that the Lord knows how best to utilize my life.  But I'm still going to allow myself to grieve for my daughter whenever I feel I need to...because grief is a result of love.  And I am definitely filled with love.