It's All About the Climb

Lately, it's gotten harder and harder to write down what's going on. I feel like lately, it's been more negative than positive. With every experience that comes my way, good or bad, I try very hard to find the positive, and the thing I can learn. This week has been a week that has challenged that goal.

The week started off pretty good, with nothing really eventful happening on Monday. Tuesday, the kids were a little trying, and difficult, but still, it was alright. Allan and I seemed to me snapping at each other much more, so usually after the kids go to bed, I tend to race into the bedroom, throw on some comfy clothes, and go for my nightly walk with Clyde. That dog is keeping me motivated to do some sort of cardio activity. HA! (That's the one positive I've found about the dog. GO ME!) Wednesday was a little more challenging. I was racing around all day, running errands, trying to make sure I remembered everything that I was supposed to do, to help with our Ward Easter Party. I spent most of the day on the phone, reminding people of what they were supposed to bring, and then the other parts of the day, running. During the few minutes of down time, I couldn't help but think of what I was feeling. I was feeling angry, lonely, and just tired. I kind of brushed it aside, and went on with my day. That night I went to work, and it was fine, but it was still there. A man came in to pick up some CPR cards, and I've known him for a while. He told me his wife just had a baby about a month ago. I forced the smile to stay on my face, and said congratulations and all of the baby questions us women ask. He asked how many kids I have, because he couldn't remember. I hesitated. I didn't know what to say! How do I answer that question? Technically, I have 4 children, but on earth, I have 3? No, that sounds off. I have 4 children....and leave it alone? No, because what if he starts asking questions, then he'll feel awkward and bad for bringing it up. So I said I have 3. I felt terribly guilty for this. He asked how old they were, and I said Sarah is 5, Luke just turned 4 and Taylor is 2. He laughed, and said, "Well you're behind! There should be another one right after Taylor, if I'm doing my math right!" He was joking, and it was kind of funny, except.......there is another one......Ellie. So, I told him that actually I did have another baby about 3 months ago, a girl, but I lost her at 37 weeks. He wasn't laughing anymore. Then I felt guilty for that. That experience stayed with me into the next day.

Thursday, I was doing great. Surprisingly. I would think of Ellie, and it was ok. The kids would ask, and it was ok. No tears. THEN......I was picking up Sarah from school. I was sitting in my car, I grabbed my phone and went on Facebook, just to kill time, until the bell rang. Allan's cousin had posted some pictures, so I clicked on them. The first was a picture of TC's head stone, with some flowers and some little items around it, that she had brought him. The next picture was a picture of Ellie's headstone. I could feel my eyes getting bigger and welling up with tears. This was the first time I had ever seen her headstone. This, for some reason, made it final. The temporary marker was gone, and her final headstone was there. I burst into tears. I grabbed the steering wheel, put my head on it and just cried and cried. I was angry, and hurt and frustrated, and not with the person that put it on there, but with myself, that I hadn't visited her before. I am her mother. A good mother would've been there, and in that moment, I didn't feel like a good mother. I had been avoiding the cemetery like the plague. I just couldn't bring myself to go. So, I was really happy that someone could go and bring her flowers, and remember her and be with her, when her mother couldn't. I tried texting a friend, who goes to the school to pick up her children also, but she was on the other side of the school. I just needed a hug, and to cry.

That night was the ward easter party that our first counselor and I, in the YW had put together. It was really nice to see the work we had done, come together. I probably should've been more stressed, like the other woman was, but I was in such a haze and a fog, that I just couldn't, so instead, I grabbed my camera and shot pictures. I hid. It's what I'm good at. I avoided. I did tell this woman what had happened, because she noticed I was upset. She was very sweet to me, and talked to me for the few minutes we had, in between setting things up. During the party, we had planned an easter egg hunt. The whole time, watching my children run after eggs and try to find them, I couldn't stop thinking about how there should be another child here, but it's true......she's gone.  I did go walking that night, and it was a quick walk, slow moving. I just didn't want to walk. I didn't want to move, honestly. Poor Clyde, he wanted to keep going, but I couldn't.

Friday, nothing major happened really. The past few days were still on my mind, but it was ok. Sarah had field day, and she LOVED it. Poor thing got sunburned though, because mom of the year over here forgot to put sunscreen on her.

Saturday, we had a birthday party to go to. We are on our way to the party, when Allan brought up a past conversation we had, regarding his faith. I felt like he was just going through the motions, but burying himself in work, and not dealing with the things that have happened or with questions he's had. He dropped the bomb on me that he had been thinking about what I said, and said, he thought I was right. But he'd always gone through the motions, because he was afraid he'd lose his family (pretty much. I'm totally paraphrasing.) He said he has a lot of questions, and a lot of things don't make sense to him, regarding Ellie's death and what her purpose was and things like that. It's making him doubt God. I think it's natural to have questions, and I want him to find those answers, but it scared me. I didn't want to lose my husband. He felt bad for me, because he said I married one thing, and now, I have another. I just sat there, and was numb. I didn't know what to say. I just felt like I couldn't take one more thing.

That night, he kept assuring me that he was going to talk to some leaders at church and hopefully they can help him find out what he needs to do, and that we will be fine. But I could hear the fear in his voice. I was scared too. I went for my walk, and I was praying that someone would come with me so I could figure out what to do, but no one could go tonight, so again, it was a quick walk. As I walked, I couldn't feel my legs really. I felt like, as fast as I was moving my legs, I wasn't getting anywhere. They were so heavy, and it took all of my strength to keep them moving. As I walked, I figured out, this is what my life is like right now. It is actually taking all of my strength to keep moving, and to keep trying to learn. I feel out of control, like there is not one part of my life I am in control of. I feel alone, because there is no one to talk to about this stuff. No best friends that I've known my whole entire life, that came come and help me with this problem. It's all on my shoulders. But that's life.

The last few days, I haven't been able to think of anything except, "I lost my child, I can't lose my husband." I keep saying it over and over again. I went to church and a talk by my visiting teacher was about attending the temple. All I could think was, I can't go to the temple right now. In Sunday school, Brother Powell talked about the basic principals of the gospel, and I kept looking at Allan, wondering if he was listening, and wondering if he was getting how simple it is to build his faith. He needs to let go of what's in his head, his logic and doubt and skepticism, and just let himself feel. Finally, in Young Women's. The song they sang was Did You Think to Pray. That just made me mad. I couldn't stop thinking, "OF COURSE I DID! It's not working! It's not helping!!" I got up and left. I walked around the parking lot, quietly crying, until I stopped, and prayed. Of course.

I know, everything will be fine. My husband is and will continue to do the work necessary to build up his faith, to make his family that much stronger. I know that every day will not be like this. I know, without a doubt, my Heavenly Father is holding my hand through this, and loves me, and is giving me strength to learn what I need to learn from these experiences. It's easy to have faith, when everything is going good. It's only a test of our faith when things start falling apart.....and they are......but, we will come out on top of this mountain. It's just the climb that is giving me trouble. But I'll get there. I always do.