Several days ago I had another dream that felt similar to the one I last posted. It was much shorter, and all I was doing was walking throught my room after "waking up", but I distinctly remember that I wasn't wearing contacts, but somehow I could see everything with perfect clarity. It was cool.
We had a coupon and got KFC for dinner tonight, but I ordered about two times too much. I sat there after we ate, contemplating how the leftovers don't usually taste good the next day and wondering what I should do, when a thought popped into my mind. We have a neighborhood facebook page, and I felt a gentle prompting to post that we had extra food (5 or 6 pieces of chicken, 4 biscuits, an unopened thing of potatoes and gravy, and an extra coleslaw) to anyone who wanted it. Within five minutes our neighbor across the street claimed it.
Yeah, I would've eaten the leftovers, but it wouldn't have been as good, and we were happy to share. My neighbor asked if she could pay us, and I jokingly said she would owe me a favor, but I don't think I'll ever collect on it.
Between that and Womens Session of Conference, it was an uplifting evening. I am excited about General Conference next week...and turning 30 just after that! Woooooooo!
Saturday, September 24, 2016
Thursday, August 25, 2016
The Time is Now
I was taking an afternoon nap just now, because I haven't been getting a lot of sleep with school starting and the kids having a cold. The dream I had during my nap was...really interesting.
I was in the house and had just woken up (in my dream), and for some reason Lydia and George were the only ones awake in the house. And I heard Justin saying how proud he was of me for cleaning the house while he was gone, but I was so confused, because I had been "sleeping". When I got up (still in the dream), I realized that I didn't feel tired at all, that I really had cleaned, and the whole house had so much light and felt so much brighter.
When I woke up for real from the dream the immediate inundation of tiredness was so different from the feeling of just weightlessness I'd just been feeling. I guess I didn't realize how completely drained and exhausted I've felt lately.
When I was set apart to be a Relief Society Instructor, I was told that I would be able to accomplish the things that I desired more easily as I serve God in the home. That came to my mind just now well as I was pondering this dream. I think that all of the light in my dream - the brightness that was all throughout the house - might not have literally been sunlight.
It feel like it was the Light of Christ in our home taking the weight off of everything. It says in the scriptures that when the people of Alma had burdens too great that the Lord was able to remove their burdens from them, and that they were able to "bear their burdens with ease". I have the feeling that this is the same kind of miracle. I have the opportunity to lighten my burdens by serving the Lord in my home. I want to feel that feeling again - that joyous, weightless brightness. And I think God was telling me that now is the time.
I was in the house and had just woken up (in my dream), and for some reason Lydia and George were the only ones awake in the house. And I heard Justin saying how proud he was of me for cleaning the house while he was gone, but I was so confused, because I had been "sleeping". When I got up (still in the dream), I realized that I didn't feel tired at all, that I really had cleaned, and the whole house had so much light and felt so much brighter.
When I woke up for real from the dream the immediate inundation of tiredness was so different from the feeling of just weightlessness I'd just been feeling. I guess I didn't realize how completely drained and exhausted I've felt lately.
When I was set apart to be a Relief Society Instructor, I was told that I would be able to accomplish the things that I desired more easily as I serve God in the home. That came to my mind just now well as I was pondering this dream. I think that all of the light in my dream - the brightness that was all throughout the house - might not have literally been sunlight.
It feel like it was the Light of Christ in our home taking the weight off of everything. It says in the scriptures that when the people of Alma had burdens too great that the Lord was able to remove their burdens from them, and that they were able to "bear their burdens with ease". I have the feeling that this is the same kind of miracle. I have the opportunity to lighten my burdens by serving the Lord in my home. I want to feel that feeling again - that joyous, weightless brightness. And I think God was telling me that now is the time.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
A Church of Love
I have a few friends who are either homosexual or have decided to take up the banner in defending their cause. They ironically claim that the church is exclusive and hateful by lashing out in their own hateful ways.
It makes me so sad. The church is a church of love. Everything it does is because of the pure love of Christ.
But why are the children of a gay person not allowed to get baptized or hold the priesthood?
This is the most recent in a slew of attacks issued by acquaintances. It is my personal belief that the reason is love. It doesn't make sense to them, but take a step back and look at our whole reason for being on this earth: family.
The family unit is the singlemost important unit in this temporal frame. It makes perfect sense to me that God would give instruction to his Prophet to protect it as much as possible in a world that increasingly tries to tear families apart.
In that sense it becomes clear that making a child wait until they're an adult to be baptized or receive the priesthood is not an act of exclusion and hate - but an act meant to protect the wholeness of their family situation. It is meant to strengthen family ties, not ravage them. It is because of love.
This life is such a small part of eternity. It may seem difficult to have to wait for eternal ordinances once a child realizes they are good and true, but if the cost is alienating family...one half of who they are, I understand why God wants them to wait a few years. It's for their protection and the protection of the family.
I wanted to write my thoughts on this subject down before I forget it. I've been forgetting a lot of things lately...
It makes me so sad. The church is a church of love. Everything it does is because of the pure love of Christ.
But why are the children of a gay person not allowed to get baptized or hold the priesthood?
This is the most recent in a slew of attacks issued by acquaintances. It is my personal belief that the reason is love. It doesn't make sense to them, but take a step back and look at our whole reason for being on this earth: family.
The family unit is the singlemost important unit in this temporal frame. It makes perfect sense to me that God would give instruction to his Prophet to protect it as much as possible in a world that increasingly tries to tear families apart.
In that sense it becomes clear that making a child wait until they're an adult to be baptized or receive the priesthood is not an act of exclusion and hate - but an act meant to protect the wholeness of their family situation. It is meant to strengthen family ties, not ravage them. It is because of love.
This life is such a small part of eternity. It may seem difficult to have to wait for eternal ordinances once a child realizes they are good and true, but if the cost is alienating family...one half of who they are, I understand why God wants them to wait a few years. It's for their protection and the protection of the family.
I wanted to write my thoughts on this subject down before I forget it. I've been forgetting a lot of things lately...
Monday, August 1, 2016
New Calling, New Blessing
Yesterday I was called as a Relief Society Instructor and was also set apart. It was a good blessing. There were a few lines that really stuck out to me.
One part said that as I serve God in the home, I would have more time for my interests and personal hobbies as well as more time to be a good mother and wife.
It also said I touch some people and that my example would help them.
That's all I really remember, but I don't want to forget it, so there it is.
One part said that as I serve God in the home, I would have more time for my interests and personal hobbies as well as more time to be a good mother and wife.
It also said I touch some people and that my example would help them.
That's all I really remember, but I don't want to forget it, so there it is.
Friday, July 1, 2016
Lashing Out
I'm starting to notice that I am kind of mean to the people closest to me when I'm stressed out or frustrated. How can I get over this? I wasn't always this way...
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
George is so perfect, and I love him so much. These past couple weeks have been the hardest and worst I've ever felt in my life physically. I am a mess of emotions and both love and hate my life...
Everything is so hard. I can't do anything or go anywhere without using all of my strength and becoming completely exhausted, short of breath, and dizzy. :(
This...is so dumb, and I hate it, but at least George has no problems...
Everything is so hard. I can't do anything or go anywhere without using all of my strength and becoming completely exhausted, short of breath, and dizzy. :(
This...is so dumb, and I hate it, but at least George has no problems...
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Baby George and Feeling Useless
I never expected a recovery from childbirth to be so difficult. I never expected so many complications.
On Sunday my water broke at 3:35 a.m. when I got up to go to the bathroom. I wasn't sure it had, but then the contractions started within a few minutes and leakage became obvious. I decided to let Justin sleep as long as possible, because the contractions were only 10 minutes apart. I brushed my teeth and started looking for a few last minute things for the hospital bag, but the contractions were getting closer together, about every 7 minutes, and it was difficult.
Justin stumbled out of the bedroom around 4:15 and asked what was going on. I said I was in labor, he asked if he could take a quick shower, and I said yes.
I started gathering clothes for the girls for the week, but contractions were becoming excruciating at every 5 minutes. Hannah woke up, I told her what was going on, and she woke up Abigail...who was very upset and vocal about being woken up from her "good dreams" and "deep sleep".
Justin got out of the shower, called his brother, and we were in the car really quickly, but contractions were awful. Completely horrible.
I called the hospital to let them know we were coming, and couldn’t talk through a contraction. I said they were every five minutes, but it was actually closer to 4. We dropped the kids off at Travis and Christina's and zipped over to the hospital, and contractions were every 3 minutes.
I got in at 5:10, and thank goodness they were expecting us. It's probably the only reason I was allowed to get an epidural. Every contraction was agony while the anesthesiologist prepped me. I got the epidural in just after 5:30, but blah, there was no medicine in it yet. Finally medicine got put in it, and pain slowly started to dissipate. It was barely working, but it took the edge off just enough for active labor to explode forth like a waterfall of fire and lava and boiling water that spatters violently out of a pot and screams against the hot stove top.
I will never say I can do labor without an epidural again. I would have died. Even with it barely starting to work.
Baby George was out after maybe 5 pushes after I insisted on an episiotomy before the fifth one. Placenta came out easily, and I thought that was the end of my pain.
Ha.
Oh how naïve I was.
It took us a while to leave the Labor & Delivery floor. The nurse helped me get cleaned off, put an absorbent mat thing under me and a rectangular diaper pad... thing. I continued to have pain in my uterus but thought it was okay.
The nurse was checking my vitals when she heard a dripping sound. Justin later said it was a puddle of blood on the floor. I didn't realize how big it was since I couldn't see, but I guess I had soaked through the large pad and the mat. Oops...
When we finally made it to the Recovery floor another doctor at my OBGYN place was on staff and came to check in, but I thought everything was normal and said not to worry. I fed George, but within the hour my bleeding and pain got worse, and I had him sent to the nursery and the doctor called back in. Within a minute of his doctorly investigation and kneading, a series of blood clots that looked like a mushed up 2nd placenta came spilling out.
He left after giving some instructions to the nurses, and I thought all was well. Unfortunately all was not well. I lost another few large blood clots and was feeling a bit dizzy but largely ignored it because my pain was manageable, and I assumed that meant I was fine.
Our lunch was brought in, and I wanted to hurry and eat it before I had to feed George at 11:30. The salmon I'd ordered looked pretty good, so I decided to start with that. I inclined the bed upward and started feeling dizzy, but I didn't pay any mind, leaned forward, and took a bite of the fish.
Immediately my ears started to ring. I struggled to chew the bite in my mouth. I couldn't breathe, and the room was spinning. I tried to reach for the phone to call my nurse, but I couldn't focus on it...like my hand didn't know what to do with it.
By this time I think Justin realized something might be off. He stood somewhere around me and asked what was wrong.
I said I couldn't breathe. Justin later said that my skin turned white "like a ghost". A nurse randomly opened the door. I think I said I couldn't breathe again.
I don't remember much of what happened in those next few minutes. I was told later that a rapid response alert was issued to prevent the situation from turning into cardiac arrest. All I remember was that people were around me and I vaguely recognized that I still couldn't breathe, but it no longer seemed important.
In hindsight the most alarming thing about the whole ordeal was realizing how I had no control over my life and couldn't even muster the ability to care or worry about it.
Someone turned on a bright light. Someone else put oxygen tubes up my nose. Someone else hooked an emergency IV in my left arm with something to raised my blood pressure. A doctor held my hand. I recognized his voice as the doctor who had helped me earlier, and I was filled with a feeling of reassurance. Nurses told me later there were at least a dozen people in the room working on me in various ways, and it reminded me of bees bustling and buzzing around a hive. A blood transfusion was ordered for me, and the oxygen tubes were switched with a mask.
As I regained clarity I wished that I had taken a bite of something else besides fish as it's pungent odor permeated the oxygen within the mask, but I also knew that feeling alert enough to want to complain was a good sign.
Then I remembered George. Was he okay? How was he going to eat? What time was it?
I couldn't move my limbs very well, so I knew there wasn't really much that could be done. So after checking with Justin, I gave a nurse permission to feed George formula through a tiny tube attached to her pinky.
Long story short, I got the transfusion, needed another one on Monday, and needed a third one on Tuesday. George is breastfeeding okay in spite of the setbacks, and recovery is way harder than I thought it would be.
I wish I had prepared more. I wish the kids had more clothes laid out and ready for them for school. I wish I had more strength.
When I got home I cried a lot and felt useless and weak. Last night was really hard, and I thought I might have to go to the hospital again, because I was dizzy, short of breath, and my heart felt like it was too fast, but fortunately that did not happen.
I'm still having trouble, but I feel measurably less hopeless. Linda volunteered to come over, and I'm surprised (and grateful...very grateful) she'll be able to drive the distance over and over.
I'm still not sure why this happened. I don't think I'll be able to have any more kids after this. At least...I don't think I would survive it. With Lydia I had the easiest delivery and recovery ever. I was foolish to assume I could bank on something like that again, but still...there's no way I could have expected this. I'm just glad and grateful that George is doing so well, and that I have friends and family here whom I have been able to rely on in this time of need. It's difficult to feel so low...knowing that I need the help, but I'm glad it's there, just the same.
On Sunday my water broke at 3:35 a.m. when I got up to go to the bathroom. I wasn't sure it had, but then the contractions started within a few minutes and leakage became obvious. I decided to let Justin sleep as long as possible, because the contractions were only 10 minutes apart. I brushed my teeth and started looking for a few last minute things for the hospital bag, but the contractions were getting closer together, about every 7 minutes, and it was difficult.
Justin stumbled out of the bedroom around 4:15 and asked what was going on. I said I was in labor, he asked if he could take a quick shower, and I said yes.
I started gathering clothes for the girls for the week, but contractions were becoming excruciating at every 5 minutes. Hannah woke up, I told her what was going on, and she woke up Abigail...who was very upset and vocal about being woken up from her "good dreams" and "deep sleep".
Justin got out of the shower, called his brother, and we were in the car really quickly, but contractions were awful. Completely horrible.
I called the hospital to let them know we were coming, and couldn’t talk through a contraction. I said they were every five minutes, but it was actually closer to 4. We dropped the kids off at Travis and Christina's and zipped over to the hospital, and contractions were every 3 minutes.
I got in at 5:10, and thank goodness they were expecting us. It's probably the only reason I was allowed to get an epidural. Every contraction was agony while the anesthesiologist prepped me. I got the epidural in just after 5:30, but blah, there was no medicine in it yet. Finally medicine got put in it, and pain slowly started to dissipate. It was barely working, but it took the edge off just enough for active labor to explode forth like a waterfall of fire and lava and boiling water that spatters violently out of a pot and screams against the hot stove top.
I will never say I can do labor without an epidural again. I would have died. Even with it barely starting to work.
Baby George was out after maybe 5 pushes after I insisted on an episiotomy before the fifth one. Placenta came out easily, and I thought that was the end of my pain.
Ha.
Oh how naïve I was.
It took us a while to leave the Labor & Delivery floor. The nurse helped me get cleaned off, put an absorbent mat thing under me and a rectangular diaper pad... thing. I continued to have pain in my uterus but thought it was okay.
The nurse was checking my vitals when she heard a dripping sound. Justin later said it was a puddle of blood on the floor. I didn't realize how big it was since I couldn't see, but I guess I had soaked through the large pad and the mat. Oops...
When we finally made it to the Recovery floor another doctor at my OBGYN place was on staff and came to check in, but I thought everything was normal and said not to worry. I fed George, but within the hour my bleeding and pain got worse, and I had him sent to the nursery and the doctor called back in. Within a minute of his doctorly investigation and kneading, a series of blood clots that looked like a mushed up 2nd placenta came spilling out.
He left after giving some instructions to the nurses, and I thought all was well. Unfortunately all was not well. I lost another few large blood clots and was feeling a bit dizzy but largely ignored it because my pain was manageable, and I assumed that meant I was fine.
Our lunch was brought in, and I wanted to hurry and eat it before I had to feed George at 11:30. The salmon I'd ordered looked pretty good, so I decided to start with that. I inclined the bed upward and started feeling dizzy, but I didn't pay any mind, leaned forward, and took a bite of the fish.
Immediately my ears started to ring. I struggled to chew the bite in my mouth. I couldn't breathe, and the room was spinning. I tried to reach for the phone to call my nurse, but I couldn't focus on it...like my hand didn't know what to do with it.
By this time I think Justin realized something might be off. He stood somewhere around me and asked what was wrong.
I said I couldn't breathe. Justin later said that my skin turned white "like a ghost". A nurse randomly opened the door. I think I said I couldn't breathe again.
I don't remember much of what happened in those next few minutes. I was told later that a rapid response alert was issued to prevent the situation from turning into cardiac arrest. All I remember was that people were around me and I vaguely recognized that I still couldn't breathe, but it no longer seemed important.
In hindsight the most alarming thing about the whole ordeal was realizing how I had no control over my life and couldn't even muster the ability to care or worry about it.
Someone turned on a bright light. Someone else put oxygen tubes up my nose. Someone else hooked an emergency IV in my left arm with something to raised my blood pressure. A doctor held my hand. I recognized his voice as the doctor who had helped me earlier, and I was filled with a feeling of reassurance. Nurses told me later there were at least a dozen people in the room working on me in various ways, and it reminded me of bees bustling and buzzing around a hive. A blood transfusion was ordered for me, and the oxygen tubes were switched with a mask.
As I regained clarity I wished that I had taken a bite of something else besides fish as it's pungent odor permeated the oxygen within the mask, but I also knew that feeling alert enough to want to complain was a good sign.
Then I remembered George. Was he okay? How was he going to eat? What time was it?
I couldn't move my limbs very well, so I knew there wasn't really much that could be done. So after checking with Justin, I gave a nurse permission to feed George formula through a tiny tube attached to her pinky.
Long story short, I got the transfusion, needed another one on Monday, and needed a third one on Tuesday. George is breastfeeding okay in spite of the setbacks, and recovery is way harder than I thought it would be.
I wish I had prepared more. I wish the kids had more clothes laid out and ready for them for school. I wish I had more strength.
When I got home I cried a lot and felt useless and weak. Last night was really hard, and I thought I might have to go to the hospital again, because I was dizzy, short of breath, and my heart felt like it was too fast, but fortunately that did not happen.
I'm still having trouble, but I feel measurably less hopeless. Linda volunteered to come over, and I'm surprised (and grateful...very grateful) she'll be able to drive the distance over and over.
I'm still not sure why this happened. I don't think I'll be able to have any more kids after this. At least...I don't think I would survive it. With Lydia I had the easiest delivery and recovery ever. I was foolish to assume I could bank on something like that again, but still...there's no way I could have expected this. I'm just glad and grateful that George is doing so well, and that I have friends and family here whom I have been able to rely on in this time of need. It's difficult to feel so low...knowing that I need the help, but I'm glad it's there, just the same.
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