Wednesday, May 2, 2012

on our way

We took some good advice and decided to escape from life for a week in September.
The beach was a good place to start...the sound is soothing, the breeze is calming, the sunshine seems to warm you from the inside out, and the view and touch are reminders of who we are, of who made us and this beautiful world, and of where we, together, can end up...

first day of school

A very excited (trying to seem cool and not too nervous) first-time-Kindergartner.
She was ready to leave me in the dust on her way into the building.
Makinzie was a little less excited.  She didn't want a picture taken until after school and she really wasn't sure that she was ready for school to start...but we really couldn't blame her.
She was a bit happier after school.  She thrives on organized activities and pushing herself to figure out new things.  School is probably the best place for her to be distracted and to begin to feel more confident and better about herself after her atypical and incredibly rough summer vacation.
Ty was working nights that first week of school, trying to catch up on missed rotations, etc.  Coleson was glad when Daddy woke up and was ready to play.
Here is a sad look into how I felt on the first day of school.  I'm leaving it un-edited for now.  This is what I came home and wrote down (since Ty was sleeping and there was no one for me to talk to through the cascading tears at 8 in the morning).  It is hard, even for me, to read through this again:
Just in case anyone is curious about how the first day of school is going for me:  Being sick with a head cold, on top of already feeling sick with depression/nauseated ALL the time has made today a pretty hopeless and horrible day. I dropped the girls off at school this morning and was impressed that I made it out of there without puking all over the school floor. But I was upset that my only feeling was one of nausea. I had no other typical “mom of a first day of kindergarten child” emotions. I cried the whole way home, not because I had concerns about my girls at school or would miss them at home, but selfishly, only because it's one more step down this life path that I really am not fond of at the moment.  I would give ANY thing, anything at all to get off of this path and get back onto the one I was on 2 months ago...That little boy gave my life happiness and light and meaning and now he’s just gone, without warning and without a proper good-bye, he’s just gone…I'm hoping that things can only get better from this low point because life seems pretty relentless right now...you would like to think that in the midst of such tragedy and defeat Satan wouldn’t be allowed at you, that there would have to be some protective barrier wrapped around you, but there’s not. He’s real, and he’s as mean as ever, he will kick you and beat you, even when you are already crumpled in a ball on the ground. I just PRAY that he is so busy kicking me today that my girls will be protected and have a good day at school. I would give anything to make sure that they were happy and to have them know that they are still safe and loved.

a few days in delta





Ty even managed to bring home a souvenir:
By the time we made it home from our unexpected summer travels, our yard looked as horrible (or maybe not quite as horrible) as we felt.  It was almost a symbolic reminder of how we went from feeling like things were really wonderful and "green" to feeling like our hearts had been torn from our very beings and we had turned "brown" and felt quite overcome "by noxious weeds" and ugliness.

Being away for a few weeks was like being caught up in a cloud of "non-reality." It all felt so out of place.  We had never been with Beckett to either of our homes, so there weren't any connections to him there, other than our empty arms and aching hearts.  It was good to be surrounded by family and love as our hearts and minds ached and felt so confused by all that had happened to us, but the cloud quickly disappeared as soon as we were back and being back in "reality" was EXTREMELY difficult...  

Sunday, April 29, 2012

no sadder reunion

Some things in life seem like they should never have to be experienced, by anyone, EVER...this is definitely one of them.









But we are grateful for sweet friends and family that were willing to surround us and try to lift us up at such an incredibly hard time...

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

a little bit of HEAVEN on earth

We decided at the last minute to see if we could get away for the 4th of July weekend. Ty was working late that Friday but then had Saturday-Monday off. So we quickly looked to find a cabin we could rent and everything seemed to just fall into our laps...The cabin was in a beautiful gated community with lots of hiking trails, waterfalls and a small lake. The cabin itself was magazine cover material, it was very large and beautiful, but they gave it to us for cheap because someone had canceled on them at the last minute. As we pulled into the community there was a big board that said there would be a firework show out over the lake that night. It was the best firework show we have been to in a very long time!
We know this trip was inspired. It was truly a chance for us to see what Heaven might be like and we feel it was His plan all along to let us have a special time to see how much we really love eachother, to feel and see Him in our surroundings, and to recognize how truly happy we are as a family. This is both comforting--it helps us feel less at fault and find peace in knowing that Heavenly Father does know who we are and what is going on in our lives--but at the same time, it hurts--how could He know all along? And how could something so painful be a part of any good plan?
Oh how we all LONG to be back at "the cabin." (Coleson asks quite often.) It's the last chunk of time that we all remember being TRULY happy. We'd love to go back to that moment in time when we were ALL together, in a peaceful place, loving every moment...
Thank goodness we do know that we can ALL be together again...in a peaceful place, loving EVERY moment...

Friday, October 7, 2011

hard things

I haven't been able to post, life shouldn't be the way it is, and I can't bear to move that precious little face down further into my blog. Never could I have imagined when we had our perfect, happy, 4 month-old check-up on July 15th that after his afternoon nap latter in the day I would never see his face light up again and then two days later I would be completely without my sweet and lovable mr. B.
And now, 3 months later, I still can't believe he's really gone and not coming back...our home just isn't and never will be the same.
I still can't decide if I keep posting life happenings on this blog, or, if I just start a new one....I feel like my life came to a halting stop and shattered into a million pieces and that we have been attempting to live a new one ever since...so it kind of seems only right that my blog be the same way. But, maybe, over time, I can figure out a way to weave these lives together, we will see...
For now, I keep writing blog posts/journal entries in my head about those last moments and weeks with Beckett that hadn't been posted on the blog yet. Like our glimpse of Heaven over the 4th of July weekend or the tender mercies of people that came into place as our life fell completely apart....I also keep writing this post/sharing my testimony in my head, over and over again because my emotions are overwhelming and this it too much for me to say out loud, for now....
This is what I know: Beckett is very good. He is in a good place, fulfilling the mission that Heavenly Father has always known would be his; he didn't need to be here on earth for very long, just long enough to receive a body and to smile at every person he met, and to help our family know who he was and fall madly in love with him so that we would do ALL we could to be with him again. We have a loving Father in Heaven who knows us and has provided a plan for us to be with our families forever. Tyler and I were sealed in the Manti, Utah temple on June 8, 2002, for time and all eternity. Beckett is ours forever (and so is Makinzie, Addellyn, Coleson and any others that may come into our family for generations to come).
I also know: I miss Beckett. He made me happy and feel so close to heaven. I connected with him (as an infant) on a level that made me feel guilty as a mother about not connecting that way with my other kids when they were tiny; and now I feel a horrible void where that connection has temporarily been lost. My wisdom is much less than that of my Heavenly Father's. Through my weak, mortal eyes, it is hard for me to comprehend that a Being who is all knowing and loves me so much could know that Beckett would be taken from my arms, know the immense pain and grief that would come, and still be able to put me and my family through it all. My feelings are hurt, I even feel slightly betrayed and kicked aside. For this reason, it is sometimes easier to listen to Satan and to allow myself to become discouraged, and to believe that it is all my fault, that I am a bad mother. I am an imperfect human being, so it makes more sense that something so painful and horrible would be my fault and not the plan of my perfect Maker. Maybe if I had checked on Beckett during his nap just a little bit earlier, maybe if I were more in tune with the promptings of the Spirit I would have known to RUN and get him, or maybe if I had never put him down to sleep, but held him in my arms for his nap he would still be here, or maybe if, maybe if, if only....maybe if my faith were stronger, then a miracle could have occurred and I wouldn't now feel unsafe and out of place in my own home....
So...I HAVE to remember (even if it takes all of the energy I have to remember): He does know all things. He does love me. If Beckett was supposed to stay on earth, He would have given me a prompting to go and save him or He would have granted us our miracle in the PICU. And remember instead that He DID answer the prayers of soooo many faithful people, rallying for our family, by surrounding us with His spirit and by His angels. We were lifted up in His arms. The spirit was overwhelmingly present in our little baby's hospital room. Beckett was glowing, he was being administered to by angels. And I have never before, nor since, felt the overwhelming presence of His loving messengers, the same way that we did in the quiet, private, special hospital room, as we were each, individually blessed, by the priesthood of God and we said goodbye to our sweet baby for this life. Heavenly Father reassured us that we were doing His will. I know He and His angels were with us. So many things fell into place as they needed to. This was Heavenly Father's plan from the beginning of time. I will be with Beckett again and be able to raise him and hold him and whisper I love him as he grins and kicks his happy little feet. His wisdom is greater than my own. If I trust in Him, He will lead me back into His presence and wrap me in His loving arms, and say "well done." This hard life is but a moment in His eternal plan. Beckett is fulfilling a wonderful mission in heaven that Tyler and I will rejoice over as we hear about it when we are with him again, and then, we will understand.
But for now, we will continue to grieve as we continue to relive the trauma of July 15th, over and over in our dreams and in our minds....as we see all of the other babies continue to grow and develop around us...as we sit at the dinner table, as a family, and don't have those happy kicking feet and his grinning face to entertain us...when we sing songs at family night and know that he would have been so happy to hear us all singing...as we hike through the woods and remember that weekend of bliss with our fun mr B...as Tyler and I spend those last couple of hours together each night without a little snuggled lump on Ty's chest...as we miss our little pal, in EVERY day to day moment, and our hearts continue to ache...we will be sad...
But we keep telling ourselves, again and again: "Be still, my soul: When change and tears are past, All safe and blessed We shall meet at last." And we keep reminding ourselves to rejoice in the day that we will be with him and our Father and our Savior again! We plead with our Father to "Lead kindly light amid the encircling gloom....lead thou me on!" And we will slowly, very slowly, be lead to a point of healing and greater understanding...
My brother and his wife created this as a reminder of our Heavenly Father's plan: