Why don't I write?? I'm sitting here listening to the endearing little grunts and sighs of Chiara's sleep and wondering why I never make time to do what I long to do -- write children's stories. I'm terrible at it, but I'll never get better if I'm willing to be terrible for a while. :) That's really hard for me ... I hate to do things poorly. I think I can find time for a 15-minute free-write every day. maybe I'll start a blog for it. Tomorrow is a new month ... maybe I'll make a new beginning.
Also, I just ate 5 oreos. It was a moment of absolute weakness.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Remembering a NICU moment
Something happened in the hospital that I wanted to write here. When Chiara was breathing better and the nurses and doctors felt she'd be okay without the oxygen machine they wanted me to start nursing her. It was hard in such a setting, but there was no other way. She needed to drink 200ml within every 12-hour period in order to have her feeding tube removed, gain weight and come home with us. Some nights I'd just cry because I couldn't make her drink more than just a few ml each time and it seemed like she'd never be able to come home. I'd stare at our empty crib and pray for help and strength. One particular night I wept as I told Heavenly Father that all I wanted was for her to come hom, but I couldn't make her nurse. She had to do it on her own and I felt helpless. In that moment of grief my mind became a little clearer and I felt Him say to me, "I know, Shelli. I know how it feels to yearn for a child to come home and be unable to make their choices for them. That aspect of parenting does not belong solely to mortality ... You will feel it here too." I opened my eyes in awe and surprise and suddenly I was grateful for this trial and for the lesson it taught me about the nature of God. I'd not thought before how painful His life must be sometimes. I resolved not to hurt Him by my own wrong choices but to bring Him as much joy through my own willful obedience as I possibly could.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Staying home from church
Eldon went to church alone again today. It's so strange not to be able to attend with him. The doctor doesn't want Chiara to go to church at least until June when RSV season is over ... So we stay home. When I feel better (like, when I can sit for longer than 20 minutes without being miserable) I'll go and Eldon will stay home with her. But for nowthis apartment is my world. It's getting lonlier for me.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Poor Eldon
He's so busy. I send him out the door at 7:30pm and watch the clock until 7:30pm when he finally comes back through it. PLus on Saturdays he volunteers at the Battered Women's Shelter and in the Emergency Room at the Provo Hospital. He works as a TA for organic chemistry and biology, has 15 credit hours, and spends the rest of his time preparing for the MCAT. How I love and appreciate him. His schedule is what kept him from being with me in the hospital. I felt angry about that at first, but I know he was doing his duty out of love for our family. It was hard for both of us.
You know ... every time I'm irritated with Eldon I just have to think about it for three seconds to realize I shouldn't be. He is all a girl could hope for. Usually when I'm mad at him we're apart and I'm analyzing what he said or did that I didn't like. But seeing him again and hearing his sweet voice again melts me and all my anger dissipates. I don't know who's more to thank - Eldon for being wonderful of God for softening my heart. :) Either way, I'm grateful for peace.
You know ... every time I'm irritated with Eldon I just have to think about it for three seconds to realize I shouldn't be. He is all a girl could hope for. Usually when I'm mad at him we're apart and I'm analyzing what he said or did that I didn't like. But seeing him again and hearing his sweet voice again melts me and all my anger dissipates. I don't know who's more to thank - Eldon for being wonderful of God for softening my heart. :) Either way, I'm grateful for peace.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
My joy
Chiara is my joy. Mothering is HARD! I can't believe how time-consuming she is. :) I'm trying to finish my Biology 100 class and my Statistics 221 class so I can graduate and it's surprising how little time I have to study. Wow ... not a good plan!
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
My baby is one month old!
Chiara is a month old today ... and I've decided that merited a change in me. It's funny how the Spirit works, and I'm finally responding to His prompting to be a record keeping woman.
I've had quite a spiritual journey during the last month. When Chiara had so many complications I honestly wondered if I'd been wrong about the nature of God. How could He possibly take my new mommy moments from me and make it a nightmare? I'd obeyed Him and worshipped Him and testified of Him all my life ... and He took away the joy I'd been imagining and anticipating for so many years. I had a really hard time not being angry. It was scary how clearly I felt my heart hardening. I literally questioned my faith.
I learned to breastfeed hiding behind plastic dividers in the NICU. I waited two days to hold her after she was born. I cried alone in my hospital room with every new report from the doctors without Eldon ... facial paralysis, skull fractures, internal bleeding, lung trauma, blood issues ... so many things. I came back to the hospital every three hours to nurse her - hoping Chiara's nurses would say she'd eaten enough to stop feeding her through a tube. I watched her in her little crib from my wheelchair because I was too weak to stand. She was attached to about a dozen monitors and looked so small and helpless there, bundled up under her heating lamp. Those were the hardest days of my life, I think. I was exhausted, I had complications from the epidural that kept me in constant pain, and of course I was worried about my baby.
But the Lord's ways are not our ways and we can always trust that He knows better than we do. I learned an immense amount of trust in Him this month. In the end I'm grateful.
I've had quite a spiritual journey during the last month. When Chiara had so many complications I honestly wondered if I'd been wrong about the nature of God. How could He possibly take my new mommy moments from me and make it a nightmare? I'd obeyed Him and worshipped Him and testified of Him all my life ... and He took away the joy I'd been imagining and anticipating for so many years. I had a really hard time not being angry. It was scary how clearly I felt my heart hardening. I literally questioned my faith.
I learned to breastfeed hiding behind plastic dividers in the NICU. I waited two days to hold her after she was born. I cried alone in my hospital room with every new report from the doctors without Eldon ... facial paralysis, skull fractures, internal bleeding, lung trauma, blood issues ... so many things. I came back to the hospital every three hours to nurse her - hoping Chiara's nurses would say she'd eaten enough to stop feeding her through a tube. I watched her in her little crib from my wheelchair because I was too weak to stand. She was attached to about a dozen monitors and looked so small and helpless there, bundled up under her heating lamp. Those were the hardest days of my life, I think. I was exhausted, I had complications from the epidural that kept me in constant pain, and of course I was worried about my baby.
But the Lord's ways are not our ways and we can always trust that He knows better than we do. I learned an immense amount of trust in Him this month. In the end I'm grateful.
One Month Old
My baby is a month old today, and my heart is so full I almost can't bear it. I have learned more about myself and about the nature of God in the last few weeks than I will ever be able to record here. But for the sake of my children, let me attempt to write some of the most needful things.
Chiara's birth came at a very high cost - emotionally, spiritually and financially. I was surprised by how scarred my faith became with this trial. As I sat in the hospital yearning to see my child but unable to do so, racked with the most pain I'd ever felt, and feeling utterly alone without my husband, I became angry with God. I never thought I'd falter in that way. The only other times I've ever been tempted to feel anger toward Him were when I was young and my muscles were hurting so badly I could hardly bear it, and when Grandpa Lowder died leaving me without the only grandpa I had who loved me. But I was able to squelch it then ... not so this time.
I'd been watching cousins and friends have babies without complications for months and months. I'd been looking forward to being a mommy for so many years that my spirit almost couldn't contain all of my excitement. I'd been so faithful to the Lord and so diligent in keeping His commandments that I somehow felt safe from too much heartache. How foolish I was. I have since come to understand and accept that sometimes the Lord does, even in these days, require of us the greatest sacrifices possible. This last month He required of me all my imaginings of what my first moments, days, and weeks of being a mommy would be like.
I didn't take tearful pictures with my brand new baby like I always thought I would. I didn't laugh and kiss my husband with joy. When Chiara came there were so many complications I was only able to hold her for a stressful five seconds before she was wisked away for more testing and treatment. I lost too much blood to be able to visit her without fainting, so I was confined to my own hospital room without seeing her again for days. I'd had such trauma during the birth that I had dozens of stitches and I was in so much pain I could hardly move. Every day the doctors would bring me more terrible news about our daughter and what problems she was facing, and the strain of feeling so desperately helpless was outweighing whatever joy I might have felt in having a new child. And I felt, in my weakness, that the Lord had given me too much - that He had taken from me the very moments of happiness I'd longed for for so many years, and that it was too cruel. How could He do that? How could He require such a sacrifice from me when I'd been nothing but faithful to Him all my life?
Oh, children, please know that attitudes like that are dangerously destructive. I didn't want to pray. I read the Book of Mormon in the hospital, but only briefly ... I was too hardened to feel the spirit of the words. I was so very wrong. It took me weeks to find myself beneath all that sorrow and self pity, but when I did I repented of my faithlessness and turned my face to His light again. He has truly healed my heart. I hardly remember the feelings I felt then. I remember having them, but I cannot remember how they felt ... if that makes sense. I have my baby home now, and the joy of being her mommy fills every single minute of my days.
Maybe I love her more because of all we went through. I don't know, but I don't waste time speculating. I trust the Lord and His commands. What He required of me was difficult, but it was not too much. I survived. And my dedication to Him is reinforced because of my error. I don't mean to say we must sin in order to come closer to God. But I do believe in His mercy He makes such a thing possible to the truly repentant heart. I'm grateful to Him for His trust and His love. I hope He finds me worthy of more trials that will mold me and help me become the woman I need to become before I meet Him again. Next time I will be stronger.
Chiara's birth came at a very high cost - emotionally, spiritually and financially. I was surprised by how scarred my faith became with this trial. As I sat in the hospital yearning to see my child but unable to do so, racked with the most pain I'd ever felt, and feeling utterly alone without my husband, I became angry with God. I never thought I'd falter in that way. The only other times I've ever been tempted to feel anger toward Him were when I was young and my muscles were hurting so badly I could hardly bear it, and when Grandpa Lowder died leaving me without the only grandpa I had who loved me. But I was able to squelch it then ... not so this time.
I'd been watching cousins and friends have babies without complications for months and months. I'd been looking forward to being a mommy for so many years that my spirit almost couldn't contain all of my excitement. I'd been so faithful to the Lord and so diligent in keeping His commandments that I somehow felt safe from too much heartache. How foolish I was. I have since come to understand and accept that sometimes the Lord does, even in these days, require of us the greatest sacrifices possible. This last month He required of me all my imaginings of what my first moments, days, and weeks of being a mommy would be like.
I didn't take tearful pictures with my brand new baby like I always thought I would. I didn't laugh and kiss my husband with joy. When Chiara came there were so many complications I was only able to hold her for a stressful five seconds before she was wisked away for more testing and treatment. I lost too much blood to be able to visit her without fainting, so I was confined to my own hospital room without seeing her again for days. I'd had such trauma during the birth that I had dozens of stitches and I was in so much pain I could hardly move. Every day the doctors would bring me more terrible news about our daughter and what problems she was facing, and the strain of feeling so desperately helpless was outweighing whatever joy I might have felt in having a new child. And I felt, in my weakness, that the Lord had given me too much - that He had taken from me the very moments of happiness I'd longed for for so many years, and that it was too cruel. How could He do that? How could He require such a sacrifice from me when I'd been nothing but faithful to Him all my life?
Oh, children, please know that attitudes like that are dangerously destructive. I didn't want to pray. I read the Book of Mormon in the hospital, but only briefly ... I was too hardened to feel the spirit of the words. I was so very wrong. It took me weeks to find myself beneath all that sorrow and self pity, but when I did I repented of my faithlessness and turned my face to His light again. He has truly healed my heart. I hardly remember the feelings I felt then. I remember having them, but I cannot remember how they felt ... if that makes sense. I have my baby home now, and the joy of being her mommy fills every single minute of my days.
Maybe I love her more because of all we went through. I don't know, but I don't waste time speculating. I trust the Lord and His commands. What He required of me was difficult, but it was not too much. I survived. And my dedication to Him is reinforced because of my error. I don't mean to say we must sin in order to come closer to God. But I do believe in His mercy He makes such a thing possible to the truly repentant heart. I'm grateful to Him for His trust and His love. I hope He finds me worthy of more trials that will mold me and help me become the woman I need to become before I meet Him again. Next time I will be stronger.
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