My Five Sons (Perspective part 2)

It's hard to believe I became a mother to my fifth child, my fifth son. 
With all my pregnancies I have managed to have something crazy happen that makes for a good story.  Bret's birth story however ranks at the top.

Once again, I have a new light, a greater perspective on life, revelation, eternity and really miracles.

I have always considered my self as one with strong faith.  I believe I have witnessed miracles because I have the faith that they happen.  The Lord has helped witness the true miracle of birth, the miracle of life.

It was hours after the story of Bret's situation was revealed to me.  It has been weeks and I still haven't fully processed the magnitude of what "could have happened."  Instead, I get to hold him in my arms, snuggle him, cherish him and fully love him.

After my first night in the hospital, early in the morning, I was preparing to feed Bret.  It was a peaceful feeling within me but a very special feeling as well that I can't describe.  It was a private moment for me to process that I could be waking up and preparing funeral arrangements.  The thought still seems so surreal.  I never felt that fear for the possible loss of my child.  I never worried for his life, maybe cause it all happened so fast.  I don't really know.  It just has never fully sunk in to my brain that my child was on the brink of death.  In some ways I feel guilty, almost shallow for not having these feelings of sadness, but I am also grateful that I haven't had to suffer through such sorrow.

What I can say has happened, my gratitude to the Lord has grown ten fold.  My testimony of knowing HE is real seems to have intensified, as if He is even more real.  If that is possible.

With the time being home bound, I have reflected on things/conversations that happened before Bret's arrival.  Small things to many but things I believe to be no consequence but the Lord preparing me for Bret's arrival.

First of all, Bret didn't have a name until after he was born.  Jarom and I tossed names back and forth but nothing seemed satisfying.  We finally got it narrowed down to Brett or Graham.  Jarom was for Brett and I was for Graham.  I was pretty sure we were going to go with Graham.  Than Jarom was talking with a black lady at work who said "Graham?  Like Graham Cracker?"  She thought that was hilarious. We did too! Considering it is pretty funny but also takes on a whole other meaning coming from a black person, Graham got thrown out the window the day of delivery.
Obviously, we went with Brett. . .no Bret, one "T."  We thought this would be nice to have so many "T's" but people have managed to spell his first name with two "T's" and Smartt with one.  Go figure.
Lorenzo, Jarom shut down the first time I mentioned it.  But this time I wasn't letting down.  I loved it!  As I was reading about Lorenzo Snow and some of his teachings during his time as prophet it just stayed with me.  it was kind of like his name stood out like a neon sign.
Finally, after Bret's birth we really had nothing solid other than the last names we had discussed, Bret and Lorenzo.  I am so glad we went with Lorenzo because the teachings Lorenzo Snow was known for was eternal families and life after death.  His messages I felt somehow resembled our whole situation.  I prayed to have a good name for this child and I believe that prayer was answered.

The other interesting thing I often think about was a conversation I had had with my mother just a few days before Bret was born.  I could feel him but contractions had pretty gone to zilch within the past two weeks.  My mom was worried and just told me to pay attention.  I had asked her as well if the baby could actually come back up into your womb from the birth canal, because the pressure in my pelvic area had changed and it felt like he had moved up into my rib cage.  We both kind of laughed and thought that was crazy and unlikely, but I still wondered.  Oddly enough, that was just what happened when Dr. Radpour broke my water.  It doesn't happen and shouldn't but it did.  I find it quite amazing how these things happen.

Children are a gift.  The Lord answers prayers and prepares us more than we think for the things that are to come.  I have witnessed myself. 

Perspective (Part 1)

Every now and then, things happen that seem to quickly put life into perspective.  I think these moments are little treasures of our life.  Little reminders to help us remember the great things we have in life.
My children, five sons, is one of those great things.
My husband is the other.
I'm sure there are many other things but these are definitely my top two.


Recently, when our newest addition came to our family, it was not without a fright.  Death never really crossed my mind, but my fear was simply being separated from my husband.

I remember once discussing with a friend I visit taught about whether we could choose between our husband and our kids if such a decision would have to be made.  I have never hesitated in knowing that I would choose my husband in a heartbeat.  Now as I've had more children and been a mother longer, I would say it would be more difficult to make this decision.  However, there is something about that companionship that I still reach for and would in the end always choose my husband.  Let's just hope I NEVER have to make such a choice.

I digress.

There is little I remember from this last delivery of our fifth child.  When I had to have an emergency C-section, when it was all happening, it still wasn't sinking in that my child was in danger.  I had no idea, nor did Jarom.  We both just knew that something was not right and had to be taken care of PRONTO.

I do remember being rushed down the hallway in my hospital bed, hearing the heavy breathing from the doctors and nurses rushing me to the operating room.  As I watched the lights on the ceiling, they were so bright and we were passing everything so quickly.  I was nervous.  I was afraid because I didn't know what was happening exactly.  I felt lost.  I can only imagine how my face looked.  I began to get scared and I could feel my eyes filling with water.  I didn't know what was happening! 

As I saw the OR room doors close and hearing them say my husband couldn't come in and I see him disappear from my sight behind the thick white doors, I cried silently. 

I tried to remain calm even when they put the oxygen mask on me.  I can't stand to have my face covered and my first instinct was to try to remove it from my face.  But I didn't.  It was as if I was paralyzed from confusion, fear, and feeling very much alone.  A large piece of me was standing on the other side of that door.  I was alone and needed him.

I am glad that I was put completely under for this surgery because I could not have been awake and gone through all that with Jarom not by my side.

I have still not heard all of Jarom's side of the story.  He had to stay awake during everything and was just as confused as me with what the emergency was about.  I have just heard little tidbits here and there.  He apparently doesn't like to talk about it and I have not pressed, despite my curiosity.  I just sense it scared him enough to not want to recall.

After all this, it has stayed with me for almost two weeks, that emptiness I felt as we were being separated.  A realization that I cannot live without this man.  I use to think how he couldn't survive without me but I know now I can't really survive without him.  I need him to need me.  I live to keep him alive and make him happy.  Not because I am some pitiful, submissive, low self-esteemed woman, but because I LOVE him. 

With the baby being upstairs and I'm still in recovery I have had to sleep upstairs as well.  It has been miserable.  Each night when I have to sleep in another bed it saddens me.  It hurts.  there have been a few nights that I have almost cried.  I know that my hormones are slightly wacko as well, but I still have this desire, this need to be close to Jarom always.  I feel so far away from him when I'm in another bed.  I can't wait until I can't start moving up and down the stairs regularly!

My love for Jarom is at another level.  Eternity doesn't even seem long enough.  It's a powerful thing to come to such a place in your heart, your soul.  We have been sealed together but now I think we have molded together, become one.  Each year of our marriage it has just gotten better.  I wish so many people could experience what I feel.  It takes love to a whole other meaning.

During my recovery I have seen Jarom do things that I have never seen him do our entire marriage!  I know it hasn't been easy for him but he has never complained or expected to do anything.  It has been like pulling a layer of film from my eyes and I see Jarom in another light.  ( It's sexy!) His service and patience has shown how he loves me which makes me love him even more. 

I feel blessed.  I feel tingly inside.  I feel the need to hold back tears as I think about it.  Who would have thought getting married at eighteen I would make such a good decision for a companion?  People doubted us but we were meant to be.  It makes me almost rethink the concept of soul mates.  One thing is for sure, love is much more than just an action.  It's almost like a living thing.  It can grow and develop on all different degrees and in the process weave a relationship together and make it stronger.

Love is a beautiful thing.

3 years

 It's been three years today that Doug was killed.  It's amazing how you can do great thru the whole year but that one day it still gets you.  I find it is easy for me talk about his death.  I'm at peace.  I find joy in eternal families.  I find joy in seeing that his widow has been able to re-marry and not had to raise their children alone.  I have found that death, his death in particular has helped me appreciate all the memories in life that are made.  This counts as knowledge, to me, and I think will go with us after we leave this earth.  It's wonderful.  And yet, I typed this with a lump in my throat and tears swelling up in my eyes.  This day is hard.  This day is hard.

All this pictures are things I took when I went to Arizona for the funeral.  The pig is Molly.  Unconsciously, I think she was my distraction from emotions at the time.  C'mon how could she not be!?  She's so cute!  She helped give me something to smile about.

So here's to Doug.  As the sun sets, I know it will rise again.  Just as our Savior.  Just as you will.  Just as I will.  It's a beautiful doctrine.  It is glorious like the sun.  I love you.

Mama Chilhowee

I've recently become the "mother" of my ward.  It's a lot to take in considering I can hardly mother my own four children how could I possible manage a full congregation!? 
When the Stake President asked me what I thought the roles of the mother of the ward were I pretty much rambled nothingness and stuttered throughout the process.  Why I actually had never even thought about the role I would play.  No pressure!
It's been a month now since Jarom was called as the Bishop and I've already seen the change in our lives.  Our minds and hearts have been opened to a new light.  I have been seriously humbled.  I have been greatly blessed.
Some say, "congratulations" others say, "good riddance" I just say, "it's another calling."  One that I pray can be a good and faithful servant in and support my husband where he needs it most.

Crush

I don't know what happened to me this time around but after this baby it was like I got this huge crush on my own husband.

It's been kind of fun.

I feel like I've gone back to our dating days.

You know where there are boundaries but you can kiss and talk all you want.

I did just have a baby, there are definitely boundaries.

The time where you would get butterflies every time you would hold hands.

After 11 years of marriage I can say that the butterflies kind of faded away. Now they are back and it's like a whole new experience.

Does the fourth child do this to you?

I even found myself standing in the kitchen giggling to myself thinking,

"I love him! I love Jarom."

Crazy you might say.

Crazy in love.

Love can give you the crazies.

I'm willing to risk it.

I do love him! I've got a huge crush!

I'm blushing with love for my Jarom.

Jarom, I love you and I want everyone to know.

The Joys of Pregnancy

A quick sum of things is that once again I have GD (gestational diabetes). After 5 glucose test (10 weeks-twice, 20 weeks, 28 weeks, and 30 weeks), did I mention I hate that drink, the doctor finally decided it was too close to call and start monitoring my sugar. Lovely.

To make things even better Jarom likes sweets even more than me BUT he can eat them. He ate a piece of cake tonight to finish it just to make another dessert now that it's gone. Oh and we still have cookies. Yummy cookies. Someone tell me how I'm suppose to watch my sugar with it sitting in my face. I have little self control.

Not only do I not have self control but major denial issues. I cannot praise my visiting teaching companion enough, who is my food expert, for helping me through this. I love you Lara. I cried for days. Denial is real. Being 29 and hearing you have diabetes (I know it's only temporary) plus they thought I might have gall bladder problems!? My instructions was "go to little or no fat diet" and then my OB says "no sugar." That's a lot for someone my age to take in when you consider yourself pretty healthy, not obese, and no family history of either health issue. Being in that rare 3% is very depressing. Having someone tell you you are "unhealthy" in my translation kills me. I just don't get it. But I'm coping. Can't you tell?

Despite the major mood swings this time around, another round of progesterone, being lactose intolerant (or possibly gall bladder, whatever), GD, and a varicose vein, I've even had to wear the mommy-belt, pregnancy hasn't been all that bad. Really.

Being huge isn't so bad. It's obvious I am pregnant just not so obvious with how many. People at this point think you're "cute." I think round people are cute too.

I still wear heels to church no matter what my doctor says. It's a must. I refuse to wear flats. Thankfully, my feet and ankles don't swell. Knock on wood.

Feeling the baby move is fascinating. It makes it real.

I know this doesn't last forever and I've never even made it 9 months.

I love hearing my boys talk about the baby, what they want to name it and what it will be like. They still have no concept of how the baby comes out but I'm in no hurry to rush to details on that matter. Hyrum can't wait for the baby. . . he thinks. He says he will "talk to it and pet it." I'm already at peace with my future helper.

It's always an excellent conversation starter and I'm never one to miss a little chat.

I love being a mom. Being pregnant humbles me and reminds of this little miracle I'm playing a role in. It is amazing.

I'm weird about babies and don't hold other people's newborns. I can't explain. It's weird. But I sure love holding my own. Even more I love watching Jarom hold our newborns. I makes me fall in love with him every time.

Now I'm down to the wire and just waiting for this little fella to join our family. Then I'm heading to Krispy Kreme.

What's in a name?

The name game, it's complicated. I have to ask myself what some people were thinking when they named their kid. Did they never consider what their child's life would be like!?

I'm so glad my parents named me Laura Beth. I like the name. Sweet. Southern. Somewhat childish but an option to grow with me.

I'm glad they didn't name me Carrie Elizabeth as planned. Do I look like a Carrie to you?

I don't like nicknames, most of the time. I say if that's what you're gonna call that person all their life why didn't you just name them that?

Do names really have to have significance? It's the last name that you honor, right?

There's just so much pressure!

You want your child to have a good name. A name that people don't have to wonder if they are male or female. I hate unisex names, period. Maybe because I have boys and have pity for them when someone decides that would be great for their girl! ARGH! A name that isn't a nightmare to pronounce or a mess to fill in on their standardized test forms. A name they can grow old with.

Names are constantly on my mind while I'm pregnant. I've had favorites since I was a girl. But let's be honest, I never took into consideration that my future husband might want a say. My whole frame of names has changed since.

I've learned that, I don't care who you are, we all name associate. Names make us think of something or someone. Good or bad.

I believe in Divine intervention.

I believe it's why I am having another boy.

I strongly associate names.

Hamilton was one of my favorites until I discovered it was a pig's name on some cartoon. Never mind.

When your husband highly favors a name that two "significant others" in his life carried, you want to laugh and think what a joke. What do you do when they aren't joking!?

Talk about a slap in the face. Punch to the stomach. Wait, just a flat out brutal beating. Not only was it a name I just didn't like, I couldn't disassociate from these people.

I was nervous I was having a girl. I was 90% convinced that I was having girl. When people hoped it for me they had no idea how sick I felt. When people talked about me needing a girl, or anything to do with having a girl, I couldn't talk about it. I wanted to go hide and cry.

I really didn't care that I had a girl. It was what the rest of the family wanted. But I could never live with a girl with "that" name. I would need therapy, no doubt.

It was that bad.

I figured Jarom was just taunting me, that it was a game, until she would be born. Then he would throw out some beautiful name (which would be anything but "that" name) and I would be at peace.

I kept telling myself that but I never believed it. I was on the verge of tears anytime anyone mentioned me having a girl. I was sure I was getting an ulcer or heart failure it hurt so bad. Emotional hurt.

Just what pregnant women need is self-esteem issues.

I tried not to plea with the Lord and be satisfied with what he has blessed me with. Sometimes pleas aren't even necessary. He knows your heart.

The day I found out I was having a boy people will never know the relief and rejuvenation I felt. I even felt a tad guilty that my boys weren't getting what they wanted but not that guilty.

Sheesh, my pregnancy has been better all around the board.

So what's in a name. . .A LOT.

Maybe next time my hubby will be lucky and get his girl, if there is a next time. I won't feel obligated to keep a promise of giving him "first name" naming rights. I won't feel pressure to that hideous name.