"It Was Just Something That I Had to Get Through, to Get Me to You"

Had an interesting conversation with my sister today about someone who showed up at her ward for church.

I sure wasn't expecting it, but in reflecting on the conversation, I have never been more grateful to swing at and miss a curve ball thrown in to my life a few years ago.

I love my husband more than I ever knew I could love someone.  I am incredibly grateful for the man he is, and the person he's always been.  He is my everything, and literally the best decision I have ever made.  He is so many things, but most of all....he's mine.  I sometimes think about where I would be had a previous decision played out in my life the way I thought it would the first time around.

I don't like it.

Everything I am, and every good thing about me, is made better because of you.  I love you, Robbie.

Unexpected Blessings

photos by Clayton Hansen Photography

The past few weeks have gone differently than I had hoped or expected.  Originally, I had planned to come up to Salt Lake to stay only about 2 weeks before the baby was due.  Mostly, because I didn't think she'd come all that early, and also because I knew I'd go stir crazy away from home/hubby/friends/things that need to get done.

September 24, I woke up from a nap having consistent contractions.  Between 10-15 minutes apart, consistent.  Don't get me wrong, these were not super-intense contractions, but Robbie and I had been praying for weeks that we would know in enough time and be able to make it to Salt Lake in time for the baby.  We both felt that this might be the warning we had been praying for.

Seven or eight hours later we were at my parents' house in Sandy, and the contractions slowed to between 20-30 minutes apart so that I could sleep.  When I woke the next morning, and pretty much ever since, the contractions have been still going...and going.......and going........and going............with little to no change.

The next Monday at my appointment, I was devastated to hear that literally nothing had changed.  Robbie had to go back to work, the baby was showing no sign of coming, and I was moved up a week and a half earlier than I had wanted or planned.  With still no baby.  Or husband.

That week (week 37 of the pregnancy), both Dax and I had a rough week.  Dax woke up during the night and far too early in the morning...to say nothing of his horrible naps.  I couldn't sleep at night, was missing my husband, and desperately wanting this baby to come to make it all end.  We were both losing it.

The next week, at our appointment (week 38), we were only a 2+ and still 80%.  Barely any progress, but somehow I was at peace.  I felt good, and things were somehow more easy to manage.  Dax still has daily tantrums, but he is SO lovey otherwise.  For instance, tonight, we watched Toy Story together on the couch, and he gave me countless kisses out of nowhere, and kept snuggling up to me and the belly, smiling all the time.  He gives me "loves" (hugs) and slobbery kisses without me asking for them, and is always holding my hand.  Even a week ago, all these things were QUITE rare.

I think he senses that something is up.  I know he misses his daddy like crazy (I've become the replacement parental jungle gym, he's always asking, "Where Dad-dy go?" and talking about daddy in every picture he sees, among other things).  But relatively speaking, he's been such a good little boy, I couldn't ask for anything better to keep me sane right now.

The other night, driving home, Dax kept pointing out every chapel he could see and saying, "Dempo!  Dempo!"  I tried a few times to correct him by saying, "Sweetie, that's a church."  To which he would respond, "Dempo!  Dempo!"  I could see it was going to be difficult to change his mind, so I went with it, and asked, "Daxson, would you like to sing a song about temples?"

"Beas?"

My heart melted and I began to sing "I Love to See the Temple".  When I finished, he immediately said, "Dempo.  Seene."

"Dax, would you like me to sing the temple song again?"

"Beas?"

So....I sang it again.  Over and over again, until we reached PaMa and PaPa's house.  It was the sweetest moment....and my heart melts a little more every time we get in the car and he asks me to sing to him again.  I love that he is so enamored by temples.  I love his sweet little spirit.  He's my little angel.....tantrums and all.

In addition to the blessings of feeling more at peace and Dax being so sweet, another huge tender mercy came at our last appointment as well.  I have been stressing majorly about Robbie.  He's been working so hard to finish his current class (it ends next week) on top of working 50-70 hours per week and he's living 4 hours away from me and Dax and 5 hours from the hospital we plan to deliver at.

I am certain labor will be long enough that we can get him to the hospital in time, but if I happen to go in to labor in the afternoon/evening/night, I seriously worry about Robbie being too tired to drive.  This stress mixed with my great desire not to be induced do not mesh very well, unfortunately.  I have been going back and forth and back and forth about what would be best for our situation.  At our appointment, we went ahead and scheduled an induction for Tuesday morning, October 12.  Up until that moment, I was stressed out beyond belief as to what I was going to do, but I felt suddenly so at peace with it.  After all, my babies need a daddy, not a victim in a car accident somewhere on Highway 6.

I know that these things may seem so small to many of you, but to me.....it's proof that Heavenly Father knows me and loves me.

I'm still praying like crazy that Adelyn will choose to join us without the help of pitocin, but if not....I know that everything will turn out ok.  I've done this before, and I have the best midwife, doula, and support system anyone could ever have.  I am so grateful for it all.  But mostly, I'm grateful for the peace I feel.

I guess the fact that I get to see my husband again in T minus 33 hours or so helps a bit too.

Is it Bad if I Hate Satan?

Like many of you, I am sick and tired of hearing about the upcoming election. I'm sick of the emails, I'm sick of the discussions, I'm sick of the campaign signs and ads. I can not wait for it to all be over. The thing that makes me more sick, however, are the huge consequences of our upcoming election/vote. There are many issues involved with the elections (not just presidential) that are threatening to create huge shock waves in the material of our society. I hope and pray that we do not take this election lightly.

Thankfully, we have all been given agency, as well as the wonderful freedom of speech and ability to vote. I hope that each of us are prayerfully considering each candidate and proposition and voting in the way we feel will help God's work to move forward more effectively. That's the whole point of this Earth-life, after all. I am grateful for the loving guidance of a Father in Heaven who has given us not only our agency and the Holy Spirit, but the wisdom and understanding of a living prophet of God on this earth.



And then there's this:

It's not as if this means that members of the church hate people that are homosexual. In fact, quite the opposite. There are many people I know and love that have chosen this lifestyle. The point remains: God's word is truth. Just because we may love another person that chooses to live such a lifestyle does not mean we should condone it. It truly makes me sad that there are people who claim to have a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ that so deeply misunderstand the plan of salvation.

Sometimes it's difficult to remember that it doesn't take much for Satan's work to be successful. I think it goes without saying that doing something simple like voting or spreading the word can help the Lord's work to prevail. Easy enough, yet not nearly enough of us do it. I hope that amongst all my weaknesses, not doing enough will not be listed with them.