Thankful

It was the most easygoing Thanksgiving I've ever had. I'm thankful that Justin made the stuffing, and that 2 of my 3 children tried lots of food. All of them ate vegetables at least. I'm also grateful for feeling my baby kick 4 times today. I'll be 17 weeks tomorrow. I miss my parents and siblings, but life is good here too. They should all move to Utah.

Time for some gingko biloba and sudoku

Late twenties is too old to have significant memory loss, right?

I'm forgetting a lot of things lately, and not just short term but long term as well. And this goes beyond brain fog. I feel like my mind is falling apart.

>:-(

I can't remember what I was really going to blog about...

Aftermath of my third miscarriage

I was nine weeks and two days along when I miscarried on Wednesday. The pain when it started was blinding, and the kids began running in my bathroom to the sounds of shrieks and screams I hadn't known I was capable of emitting. Hannah was frantically shouting that my period had started, but I could only clutch the ends of my clothes in anguished suffering. Only a few minutes in at the very worst moment of the it all, the doorbell rang, and all I could think through the waves of sheer agony was, "Who in God's name has the gall to try coming to my house now?! I WANT THEM GONE!"

...I may or may not have screamed those exact words between my wailing cries.

Justin - who had been allowing me to awkwardly hold onto his hands - went to go check the door, but to everyone's surprise it was my sister Linda, unnanounced, unplanned, but exactly what I needed.

I let her come into my bathroom and witness from an outside perspective the internal carnage happening to my uterus. She was there right at the worst part, and all I could do was hold her, begging for the pain to stop. I was crying, she was crying, and my whole world was blood and tears. After that wave of passing...tissue...had ended she stayed for a few more hours, making sure I was okay, and I was grateful for her presence (and presents...she got me chocolate, and lots of it!).

The whole gut-wrenching experience lasted five or six hours, and all these following days have been filled with recovery, well-wishes from my VT companion, the Primary Presidency, and my Visiting Teacher, and meal after meal after meal.

After talking to a few people today about the experience I felt confused. I wondered why the only actual pain I'd felt was physical. I'd compared my suffering to having my insides digested by the Sarlacc from Return of the Jedi, but I'd only shed emotional tears for a grand total of thirty seconds. This baffled me, because my previous two miscarriages had wrecked me emotionally for days.

I'm an emotional person. I thrive on it. I soak it all in for better or worse, and it's made me a person full of passion and empathy and spirit. So when I was praying this afternoon, I gave the Lord a piece of my mind. I told the Lord that it felt empty without any of the sadness I felt I deserved to experience. I said that I needed it to feel closure.

Then something very peculiar happened in my mind. I saw a literal image of floodgates being opened and vaguely felt the sensation of drowning. And a voice as clear as anything spoke into my mind, "You would not have been able to bear it."

...

Well, I'm humbled. Once again, my testimony that God has a vested interest in my livelihood is evident, and I'm...beyond eternally grateful for His love and wisdom.

Discretion

I am definitely going to miscarry. Thank you for your support and prayers throughout these precarious and painful 9 weeks. I hope the third time's the last and that I never miscarry again, but I know there's a reason for all my trials. :(

Dreams and Children

May 20, 2015 4:50 a.m.

I just had a dream where I gave birth to quadruplets. I gave birth in a bathtub (and oddly enough Aunt Carol helped me deliver them!), but it took a long time and was painful.

The first child had dark blue eyes at first. (I didn't recognize it during the dream, but when I woke up I realized it was Hannah, who had deep blue eyes for several months before they turned brown.)

I was trying to write out names for all the babies in the dream after I'd given birth to all of them. I was holding a pen and staring at a notepad, but no matter what else I tried to think of, the only name I could write was Lucy.

I woke up and thought of the meaning of this, and I realized that three of the four quadruplets were Hannah, Abigail, and Lydia. That meant I was going to have a fourth daughter, and her name would be Lucy.

In my half-asleep stupor I thought of middle names, and the name Sophia came to me, because it's from Justin's family tree, and I promised Justin's mom a few years ago that I would use it.

I prayed for an interpretation, and the only words I received was, "You have already interpreted it." Then I asked, "but is this interpretation real?"

I got the feeling that I would have to wait and see. My cycle is three days late, and I'm pretty positive I'm pregnant. If it sticks and it's a girl, her name will be Lucy, probably Lucy Sophia.

-----------------------

Well, that dream was almost a month ago. I am now 8 weeks pregnant, but I've been cramping every day, and considering my two previous miscarriages it's difficult not to worry that something might go wrong.

I'm...fairly positive that everything is going to be okay...eventually. It's been tough to keep my emotions in balance, but I know God has a special plan for each of my children.

As for this upcoming one, if it's a girl, she will definitely be named Lucy Sophia. I was doodling the name down during the Payson Temple Dedication, and I felt overwhelmed emotionally and spiritually as I stared at the name. For a good thirty seconds it was all I could think of.

Did you know Lucy is NOT a nickname for Lucille? I mean, it can be, but originally it derived from the Latin name Lucius and means "light" or "bringer of light".  And Sophia means "wisdom" or "Holy wisdom".

Light and wisdom? Yep, I have no doubts that my dream was more than just a dream.

I'm nervous and excited. How did God see fit for Justin and me to raise these precious girls? It's such a sacrifice, but I love them so much, and I will keep fighting the good fight - trying my best and enduring to the end.

A too-Realistic Dream

Abigail woke up in the middle of the night on Friday/Saturday from a nightmare. Usually her dreams are imaginary, disjointed things, but this dream was not.

She said she was playing outside the playground with the white fence in our neighborhood and that she was alone. Then she said someone sneaked up behind her who she didn't see while she was playing, and they grabbed her and took her. She said it felt real, and she was crying and really frightened.

I had recently been getting more relaxed about Abigail and Hannah going outside together or Abigail going outside with her best friend Brayden, but after discussing the dream with Justin and the kids we all felt strongly that Justin or I should be out there with them from now on. I did notice that day that when Hannah and Abigail go play that Hannah will ride her bike, leaving Abigail alone, and Brayden goes off on his own a lot too.

---

Conference was chaotic but uplifting when I wasn't stressed.
Lydia got her 2nd tooth today.
I've been experiencing some kind of sensory overload and anxiety attacks a lot lately. It's scary, and I'm embarrassed about how it must have looked to my inlaws.

I'm grateful for the Savior, and I wish I could have been a little more reverent today. Happy Easter.

Genius, Insane, or both

I think I'm hearing voices in my head...

I've been sick for 3 1/2 weeks. I was saying a prayer on my food today: "Please help this food to help me get better (I added turmeric and cayenne pepper, so it would be extra healthy. I was praying in my head, so a lot of this was a silent burst of thoughts.) I wish it could help Hannah get better too. But that's ridiculous. I can't physically help her get better...but maybe God might have made it possible...Is it possible for the food someone eats to help someone else get better?"

I instantly heard a clear voice in my mind.

"Yes, through the transfer of energy between particles."

I sat there for several seconds. Um....whaaaaat?

So, I finished up my prayer, got my tablet, and googled "transfer of energy between particles".

That brought me to an article on the Theoretical Foundations of Resonance Energy Transfer.
I skimmed it and was struck by the introduction, so I googled, "Förster Equation" and read the wikipedia page on Förster Resonance Energy Transfer, which led me to link to the page about chromophores, which prompted me to look up light therapy.

By the time I finished, I was convinced that I had either discovered scientific proof that light can cure illness or else that I was developing another mental disorder...

*sigh*

Then again, maybe it's all a metaphor that should find a way to heal my daughter via spiritual light.

*sigh again*

I am going crazy...

Reflections, Food Poisoning, and Updates

Justin's grandfather passed away unexpectedly this morning, and it hit me really hard. I can't help but feel selfishly devastated at his passing. I connected well with him, and I loved to just sit on his porch swing and chat during a warm summer afternoon. Reflecting on this loss as well as mine and Justin's other grandparents who have passed has left an almost palpable hollow in my heart. This, along with the week-long loss of my cell phone, has prompted me to return to the blog.

I spent the morning catching up on 16 months of unread entries on Dad's blog. I noticed that my name was the first word in a few of the posts, and it made me smile. I skimmed through each page, reading every post that mentioned the keywords: "Cheryl", "dream", "funny", "odd", and any others that stuck out to me. I must be incredibly self-absorbed to only look for my name, but there it is...

The plans to elaborate this past year may have to be cut short due to my prolonged food poisoning. It's been 3 days now. Every time I start to feel better I decide to finally eat something, but then my insides bobble around like the numbers in the powerball lottery.

So to cut this short, I'll close my eyes and type as fast as I can. Actually closing my eyes just helped a ton.

I'm keeping my eyes closed. If there are any advantages to food poisoning after a baby has turned one it sure is making weaning easier... I'm at least grateful that this didn't happen when Lydia was younger.

In other news I'm still working on my writing. I'm also researching a lot when I have spare time to make the story more believable. I'm such a perfectionist about it that it's actually holding me back from just writing it all out. Instead I started with an outline, and I keep adding to the outline, and adding to the outline, and so on, adding in actual dialogue when I feel that all the details have been set in stone. We'll see if it ever reaches fruition.


I've had several anxiety attacks lately. I'm not sure how to describe them. I don't even have to feel stressed out. One child will start talking to me, then another will try doing something at the same time, then a dog will start barking outside, or Lydia will start crying, or I'll just see how horribly messy a room is, and suddenly I can't process anything in my brain. I can't speak without stuttering. I can't breathe. I can't think. It's complete and utter sensory overload, and it feels as though my brain is glitching like a broken computer.

So that's been fun...

Justin's been great with everything. I think he's figuring out how to help when it happens, and he's been really supportive. It's happened a church a few times. That was NOT fun. The bishop has checked up on me a few times since then.

Hannah's doing really well in math and spelling at school. I love talking to her. She's starting to get old enough where I can have some great, in-depth conversations with her, but I worry about her self-esteem. Dad gave me some keen observations over Christmas break on how I can be less critical of my children at specific times, and I'm working on it. I just wanted my kids to be self-aware and conscious of social norms and societal propriety (since I was a collar-chewing, knee drooling, boy tackling, loud speaking mess in elementary school), but in doing so I sometimes fail to voice how absolutely proud of my children I am. I love them so much, and they have so much imagination and love and wonder. Abigail is great at the whole propriety thing. I just get too nit-picky about her speech, and I think it's exacerbated her shyness. I'm trying to be more positive though, and so far I've seen a difference in their confidence.

I'm glad Dad told me about it, just like I'm glad he and Susan told me several years ago that I nagged Justin too much. Any sting I feel in the critique is nothing compared to the pain I'd feel sooner or later from having handicapping the relationship between myself and my children or husband.

Lydia started walking at 10 1/2 months, and she gets into many, many things. It's difficult to believe she's over a year old now. I'm trying to decide when to take classes at BYU. I kind of wanted to wait until Abigail was in the 1st grade, but 3 separate people counseled me recently to return to school, so I'm wondering if I should go back sooner. I'll have to pray about it.

Well, hopefully I'll find my phone, catch up on everyone else's blog, and get over this Food Poisoning soon. w00t.