My Turning Point

In my last health post, Coming Clean, I mentioned that I have relapsed so many times.  Two years ago, my friend Natalie and I were working very hard to lose weight and to get into shape.  I lost nearly 30 pounds in a matter of a few months.  That summer, I hadn't worked out a solution of how I was going to handle having my son home all summer and exercise, and so I didn't.  That fall I ran my first 5K with my brother and sister-in-law.  It was a very emotional experience, and one that I will always treasure.  They ran for me and with me that race.  It was my "Biggest Loser" moment.

The moment didn't last.  I fell back into my habits, and within a year and a half, I gained all of my weight back plus some.  I yo-yo-ed up and down: counting my calories, running sometimes, and then relapsing back into old habits of eating and eating.  I used becoming Parent Council president (aka PTO President) and having a newborn unexpectedly as excuses to why I was gaining weight. I was so focused on controlling those new aspects in my life that my health fell apart.

I was not happy with the way things were going, and I was starting to resign myself to the fact that I'll probably be big my whole life.  I'll probably yo-yo my whole life.  But did I want that?  NO! I have seen the long-term health effects in my family, and I don't want that.  I want to be healthy and strong.  I don't want 50 to feel like 70.  I don't want 40 to feel like 50.  I knew I had to change, and this fall, I began praying fervently again for that courage and self-control. 

In the fall, I began reading the Miracle of Forgiveness by Spencer W. Kimball.  (You really have to start that book, put it down, and then start again because it is intense.)  In one of the chapters,  President Kimball talks about quitting bad habits and overcoming serious sins (i.e., sexual transgression, pornography, etc.), and since I have never struggled with those issues, I applied it to my own life.  A  couple of passages struck me with such force that I knew I had to finally change for good -- make it stick, and never look back.

The first passage is the one I quoted in my first post:
 

“The first and greatest victory is to conquer yourself; to be conquered by yourself is of all things most shameful and vile.”  ~Plato

I was letting my body conquer my spirit.  I was tired of giving in to my cravings and caving by binging on sweets and putting awful things into my body.

The second passage taught me that if I want to live with my Father in Heaven again, then I need to find a way to conquer myself.  If I don't, I'm not worthy to be with him again.

"It is imperative that when one has once put his feet on the path to recovery and mastery there must be no turning back. 'No man,' said the Savior, 'having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.'" 

I couldn't use weakness as an excuse anymore. There is no more turning back.  Each time I do, it gets harder.  It was time I made a conscious decision and stuck with it.

The entire point of coming to earth is learning to mesh our spirits with our body.  By combining our spiritual strengths and our physical senses to become perfect beings just as God is.  We can not be whole just as spiritual or temporal beings; two must become one.

I began researching and digging more into blogs and websites with healthy foods and habits.  I needed to find a way to overcome my addiction.  I decided that I needed to read and study the 12-Step Addiction Recovery Program published by the LDS Church (which is adapted from the AA program, by the way).  The first step is "Honesty," and I was just beginning embrace where I was in my life and that I needed to change.

I found a support group and a challenge through The Gracious Pantry.  The author, Tiffany, hosts a No-Sugar Challenge, and I read and studied it.  It was exactly what I needed.  I joined her group on Facebook, and I have now been sugar-free for 30 days!!!  Technically, the challenge is over, but I must keep on my journey, and I will explain more in another post.

For now, you need to know that my life has changed, and I hope to keep on this turning point and never turn back.  I have lost 11 pounds this month mainly from watching what I'm eating.  My family in general is eating better.  And if you wonder, no, I did not eat, lick, or even sample Jackson's birthday cake; and even better, he knew I wouldn't, and he has been one of my biggest supporters through it all.

Today I celebrated and got my hair done since I don't eat cakes, donuts, or candy, I couldn't use food as an incentive.  Instead, I did something for myself.  I love the new style, and I'm happy.  Here's the 11-pound lighter me:

Next up:  True Change and Opposition

The Answer to a Prayer

After listening to President Thomas S. Monson's talk today about blessings and being an answer to prayers, I feel that it's time that I finally publish this blog post that I started writing a very long time ago.

Two and a half years ago, I was finally taking big strides in networking for adoption.  I was reading everything I could about birth mothers.  I'm not sure how many blogs I read, but it was many.  I joined a site, and I began meeting and chatting with different people.   


That month, April, I had gone to my parents for spring break, which is pretty traditional for me.  My family has always been very faithful at saying prayers together at night and in the morning every day.  Years ago, when I was still young and living at home, we received counsel from our prophet that we should pray for a missionary experience.  For some reason, I haven't been good about that since I've moved from home, but when I was visiting that week, one night, I was asked to give the evening prayer.  I don't remember everything else that I prayed for, but I do remember specifically feeling the need to pray for a missionary experience, and so I did. (That is what I call a prompting from the Holy Ghost.)  I finished out the week with my parents and went home.

Throughout that month, I had been talking to my adoption friend (that I mention at the very end of "the Long Road" post) about this analogy.  I had spent several nights pondering the analogy, and finally, one night, I was compelled to get up and write it (and that is what I call another prompting of the Holy Ghost). I never felt something so strong.  I wrote the post "The Long Road."  (If you haven't read it, go ahead and read it now as it really sets the tone for this post.)  I decided to post it as well to the adoption social networking site I belonged to at the time.

In that post, I talk about a birth mother in a car, pulling over and talking to me.  Now, as I look back, I feel strongly that the birth mother that I talk about is the woman to whom I am reintroducing you today, but I didn't it know it then.

I met many women on Adoption Voices that have shaped my adoption journey and my opinions, but if you'd told me two years ago that I'd meet a sister there, I would have assumed that you'd mean the mother of our future child.  Two years ago, I introduced you to some birth mothers that I admire in the post:  Women Who Have Helped Me See.  Michelle read my "Long Road" post and left a comment that it was the most life-changing post she'd read.  She connected with that post.

That summer, 2010, I began a relationship with Michelle.  It began online in a group chat, progressed to Facebook, and then we began talking on the phone.  I think I was just as scared to dial her phone number for the first time as I was to call Matt on the phone just to hear his voice (before we were dating).  Just so you know, I never joined Adoption Voices or started talking to Michelle because I prayed for a missionary experience.  I wasn't looking to build a relationship so I could find someone to baptize, just so you know.  It was only after a certain turn of events that I remembered that prayer and the timing of everything.

Michelle and I talked about everything.  It was mainly all about adoption for a long time because that was our connection, but it turned to motherhood, and religion.  She would come to me with questions, and she shared with me that she had been baptized into the LDS church when she was young, and she had a lot of questions.  I shared the simple truths that I understood with her.  In the fall of 2010, I felt strongly to send her a Book of Mormon and my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Her husband even accepted our relationship because, well, I won him over with my gifts. . . okay, no, but I attribute that to a lot of prayer.

She shared her concern that while she wanted to go back to church, she wasn't sure that she could do it without her husband's blessing.  She did not want to tear her marriage apart, as adoption had already done that.  I began praying strongly for her and for her husband.  I had never met them, but I began to love them immensely.  We talked several times a week.  I pray specifically for her husband to soften his heart, knowing that the Lord can truly change a person.

Fast forward a year:  Fall 2011.  Michelle decides she's going back to church no matter what (her re-conversion story is pretty amazing; I'm only sharing my side of things).  She visits the local bishop and shares what he said to her with her husband.  His response floors her (and me) when he asks, "Well, who's going to teach me?"  I kid you not when I tell you that I about fainted when Michelle relayed this to me.  I cried and cried and cried.  Michelle and her family started going to church.


November 2011:  Her husband decides he wants to be baptized.  I tell Matt that at any cost, we are going to drive the 11 hours to support them.  Matt doesn't even hesitate when he agrees that we need to be there.  While they've never met, Perry asks Matt to baptize and confirm him a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Matt is humbled.

December 2011:  We drive down to Mesa to finally meet our friends and support them in this big decision and change for their family. We decided to drive through Las Vegas and show Jackson the Hoover Dam.  They have this new bridge that is just amazing to walk across.  When I was little, you actually drove across the dam.

Don't worry, we hung on tightly to the boys so they wouldn't go over the edge. 

(Can you believe that Cole was so tiny?!)

Standing in two states at the same time:  Arizona and Nevada.

When we pulled into their neighborhood, I couldn't see the numbers on the buildings to find their house.  Michelle came out to the corner to wait for us.  I had seen many pictures of her, but I couldn't believe my eyes when I finally spotted her.  (She's the reason size 0 exists!)  
We got to their house in the late afternoon/evening on Friday, and we just enjoyed visiting with the family and the missionaries.  I kept hugging her just reaffirm that she was a real, living breathing soul.  She threatened us all with licks!

Saturday was the big day for Michelle and Perry!  Our emotions were all on the surface.  As I led the music for the service, I cried while singing "Come Thou Font of Every Blessing" and "I Know That My Redeemer Lives."  The spirit was strong.

And I finally got to meet Megan -- Michelle's other spiritual guidance counselor.  ;)

On Saturday evening, we went to their ward party and then went to see the "temple lights" at the Mesa Temple.  While there, Tyler told me that he wished he had a grandma like me because I bought them apple cider and donuts.  Ha!  I told him I could be his aunt instead.

On Sunday evening, as we sat around the fire talking about the weekend and our feelings and answering church questions, Michelle handed me a bag.  In the bag, was a card and this gift:

As I read the letter, I bawled and bawled.

I believe that there are people meant to be in our lives at specific times.  I also believe that there are people we are supposed to meet to know for the rest of our lives.  I have several of those friends, and Michelle is one of those people.

That night we all got licks -- yes, she even surprised Matt. 

Michelle's side of the story is different, but as I sit and thought about how joining a crazy adoption networking site (it was crazy), writing a blog post, and saying one little prayer, I realize that the Lord knows what He's doing.  I adore Michelle's family.  We are from completely different worlds, and yet the Lord knew how to bring us together.  We're certain that we swore a pact to find each other, and since we were worlds away, the Lord put us together.

Michelle will tell you that I changed her life.  I will tell you that she's changed mine and continues to influence it every day.  The faith, the strength, the courage, and will for her family to change has set an example to me.  I'm grateful that the Lord prompted me to pray for a missionary experience. I am glad that I was reunited with my sister.

Our Path

If you'd asked me five years ago if this is the path I imagined, I'd have told you "no."  If you had asked me to take this path, I would have declined.  Because we've been prepared and seeds have been planted, we are here now.  Sometimes life doesn't take you where you expect, but it's where you need to be. 

Today I'm grateful for how the Lord has guided my family's path. 

Today we feel like we are exactly where we need to be.

The List

Fifteen years ago I remember writing a list about my dream guy.  It was long.  I typed it up, printed it out, and hung it on my wall.  On this list were things like, handsome, good sense of humor, returned missionary, Eagle Scout, great home teacher, taller than me, and active in the church.  I didn't know what he would look like or where I would meet him, but I had this list. 

When I went to college and really started branching out of my little, sheltered world, "the list" really helped me.  Before you start to roll your eyes, I didn't take this list with me on all my dates.  I didn't look over it carefully before I went out and then start interviewing each guy based on the "qualifications" on my list.  First of all, I didn't get asked out much on single dates; in fact, I was asked out ONCE during my freshman year of college and in my sophomore year I didn't get asked until I met Matt.  I did go on several group dates, but these were usually arranged by girls.  The guys we asked for our friends were always so good to play along. 

While it may seem shallow or even unfair to compare men to a list like this, I realize it was a really good thing.  If I expected the man I married to have all of these qualities, then I needed to work on them as well.  I always had it in mind.  I remember when I was dating Matt that I looked over the list and pleased to see that he seemed to fit all of my criteria.  I remember a blow when I did ask him about one or two on the list, and he told me that he wasn't so good in that area.  Of course, I didn't tell him about my list, that would be harsh.

When Matt proposed to me, I was working as a server at JB's.  The night managers quickly became surrogate fathers and good friends to us who worked there.  One of these great men wisely advised me to ask Matt why he loves me and then to come back and report.  The answer to this question, my manager told me, would be very telling about the kind of man Matt was.

I was nervous walking home from school with Matt that day because I knew I had to ask him this question.  I remember Matt being a little taken aback by this question, but he had a good, genuine answer for me.  What that answer was, exactly, I can't remember (so shoot me); but I do remember it had something to do with the fact that I loved him. 

Sooooo. . . back to the list. My Matt wasn't everything on that list, but I loved him very much. I realized that the man I would marry would not be perfect, but he would have the potential to be perfect one day just as I hoped I would be able to be.  The day I threw my list away, I knew that marriage was about working together towards exaltation.  Marriage is about teamwork.  And, well, eleven years later, I personally believe I picked a great team. 

Happy Anniversary, Matt!  I love you.

It's Quiet for a Reason

There's a reason I haven't posted for a week on this blog.  It's been quite an emotional few days, and one day perhaps I will share some more of what I've learned and experienced this week.  I guess I could say that the theme for my life right now is "There is a Reason for Everything."  In my life, I'm discovering some reasons and some whys to questions from five years ago, and it's really tough because it means that my past suffering is helping someone else who is suffering now.  My heart breaks for the dear ones who are facing emotional tsunamis and heart-wrenching pain.

For now, just know that we are still alive and kicking but leaning very close to our family right now.  Sometimes when things are so close to our hearts, it's too hard to share them for fear of making them less sacred to us.

Adoption World

Once you take that step into the Adoption World your life is never the same.   Perhaps you didn't get to choose for yourself, it was chosen for you.  You don't know life without adoption.  It is a part of you, always will be.  Perhaps you are like me and you chose that route.  You made the first steps into adoption, and now you are in the thick of it.

For some (like me), you can still change it.   Right now I'm only a hopeful adoptive parent.  Until a mother relinquishes her rights and places her child in my arms, I'm only a potential adoptive parent.  Others are expectant parents who are considering adoption. We can still change our minds to not make adoption a part of our identities forever.  As of today, I can back out.  Walk away.

For others, you are called "adoptee" or "birth mother," "birth father," or "adoptive parent," the choice has been made (whether by you or someone else), and adoption will always be a part of who you are.  While adoption doesn't have to define you, it is part of you, and it always will be.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  Honestly, I've thought about calling it quits and ducking out while I still can.  Adoption comes with a whole new set of emotions, ethics, language, and living.  The thing is, though, this would be the easy way out, but it would also be the biggest betrayal to myself and my friends.  You see, I've gained more from adoption than I ever realized I would.  I recognized in the beginning that things would be different, but I didn't understand how I would change, how my family would change. 

I now cringe at certain phrases such as "give up for adoption," "real parents," and "natural child" to name just a few.  I don't trust anything that seems easy or too good to be true.  For in life, there is nothing too good to be true.  It can be amazing, wonderful, very right and true, and completely fulfilling; but it doesn't come without great work, love, and immense pain.  "Easy" and "adoption" don't even belong together.  Someone mentions "adoption," and my heart immediately aches for those who will hurt from it and won't ever recover. 

My heart and my husband's heart will forever be changed.  Once where we were so guarded and closed, we are now open but protective.  Yes, we've been hurt because we've opened our minds and our hearts (stupid scammers), but we've learned how to be careful without closing our hearts.  My husband and I are on the same page with adoption.  I love it.  

I have learned about life and feelings and seeing a situation from many perspectives.  You have to read about it, and then find out what you really believe.  Then, you have to build an armor around you to survive the Adoption World.  You have to be willing to be attacked while you stand up for what you believe.  You learn to listen and talk with respect, and you learn that not everyone understands how to do that.  There are some things you have to learn to leave behind and others you have to carry with you.  Your job in the Adoption World isn't to shoot down everyone who doesn't agree or believe as you do, but to listen and to learn from them.  Their experiences have shaped them just as yours will shape you.

I can not completely leave the Adoption World.  Even if at some point my husband and I decide that we're not going to adopt, I've been so affected by adoption that it will always be a part of me.  I would be making the better part of five years of my life to count for naught if I tried to just walk away.  I can't do that; however, I'm trying to make changes in my life so that adoption isn't the main idea that defines me and my family anymore.  While it will always be a part of us, I want to highlight the other parts of our lives that are also very important to us.

Now, as a side-note, I want to mention that I've changed a couple of things on my blog.  I now have a page of adoption links that you can get to by clicking the tab at the top of the page.  All of the links that were on the sidebar of my blog are now on that page.  I have also included a list of adoptee blogs.  There is no possible way for me to have an all-inclusive list, for the adoption blog roll out there is endless.  However, it's time I'm true to the entire adoption world and list blogs from all vantage points.  Do I agree with all of the blogs listed?  NO!  However, I had to read those in order to face what scared me most and to find what I really believe.  If you are going to learn about adoption, you'd better be reading from all areas so you know what is out there. 

I now realize that I probably made it sound like the Adoption World is a scary place.  Well, it can be, but it isn't always.    Fear comes because of the "unknown."  Knowledge is power, and it is the opposite of fear.  When you educate yourself, you arm yourself with truth and knowledge and fear subsides.  While it's definitely not all fluffy white kittens, roses, and smiley faces, it's definitely not all dark and dreary.  Just as in a rain storm, the rainbow comes after the thunder and lightening and the downpour.  We grow because of that "nourishment" that seems forbidding and ominous.  After a storm, there is always a rainbow, you just have to know where to look.

The Order of Things

Do you ever feel like your prayer list is a mile long?  I know I get discouraged thinking that my Heavenly Father is not answering my prayers, but maybe that's because I am praying about so many things that I don't recognize the answers that are providing a little relief at a time.  Sometimes I get so focused on the giant things, that I don't see the small ones.

Those who read this blog and my other one know that I've been trying to find the best ways to help Jackson.  You also know that we are trying to adopt.  Those are some pretty big things in my life that for a while that have really competed with each other.  It was about eight months ago that I decided it was time to spend more time focusing on my son.  I began doing some research, getting appointments with different professionals, and communicating with his teachers.  Step by step, one small answer at a time, the Lord has directed me and my husband to know how to be better parents and how to give Jackson what he needs.

I sit here today, my heart full of gratitude to the Lord for His guiding hand.  All of the small things are adding up to be one big thing. The most amazing thing is looking how far back these small things go.  Remember two years ago when I said that I was homesick?  Sure, I still have moments that this house feels like it belongs to someone else (you know, the creamsicle room downstairs?), but overall, this is my home.  When we found this house, we knew we were supposed to be here, but I didn't know why.  I kept mulling over reasons why my family must need to be here.  Today I can tell you that if we had not moved to this house in this town, I never would have even thought of sending Jackson to the school where he is now with the teachers and professionals who are there.  He has made so much progress, and the teachers there all adore him.  (It's awesome to have such a cute, hilarious child!) This is an example of just ONE small thing in my life that is actually a big thing.

Now, I think about adoption.  I've been praying since Jackson was born to know how to be the parent he needs me to be, and for over four years, we've been praying about adoption.  Our prayers have adapted and changed, but nonetheless, there sits the other huge item in my path.  What if the Lord had tried to answer both of my prayers at the same time?  Those blessings would have become burdens as I struggled to balance a new baby and doctors' appointments.  Yes, I could have done it, but would I have heard the answers or seen them as blessings in my life?  Perhaps not.

Today I can honestly say that I am grateful that the Lord has portioned my blessings and reserved some.  Jackson is happy, thriving, succeeding, and I feel I can breathe again.  I see the Lord's hand in my family's life, and I am ever-grateful.   I have stepped back into the adoption world, and I can feel growth again.  While the latest adoption answer is "Be still, and know that I am God," I know because He has blessed me through my past trials, there are blessings coming.  When?  I don't know, but I know they will be in His time, and the timing will be perfect because it is in His Time.

"There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of the world, upon which all blessings are predicated --
And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated."  (Doctrine and Covenants 130:20-21)

For now, I will obey and "Be Still."



Now if I can figure out how to do that. . .

What's the Word?

Two years ago, I knew this day would come; and the emotions that I have been dealing with for the past 24 hours are the reason why I waited for two years to do anything about it.  My heart sank, and I think I even cried two years ago when I realized what it could possibly be that I was feeling.  And then I told myself that it could be nothing, that I should just wait and see if anything changed.

Part of the reason I decided to wait is because my doctor was leaving on a sabbatical for a year, and I couldn't bear to go to another doctor and relate all of my medical history.  A year later when he returned, nothing had really changed, and I wanted to lose weight and get healthier before going to see him again.  I gave myself six months.  Well, six months turned into twelve, but I knew I needed the appointment, so I finally scheduled it the beginning of January.

When the day came for the appointment, for the first time in all my womanhood, I was not scared.  I was brave, confident.  I had gone over this conversation in my head for two years.  I confidently filled out all of the paperwork and breathed deeply when I got to my biggest concerns, but I only hesitated briefly.

Same doctor, new office = best doctor visit I ever had.  In the end, his nurse put in an order for the test that I knew I needed.  Due to scheduling, I knew my first available would be today, Valentine's Day.  Oh, goodie. . . just what all women want to do on the day of "love."

For two weeks, I've been brave, keeping  a straight face and keeping quiet.  I can count on one hand the number of people I told about this test.  I didn't want to alarm anyone unnecessarily, but I had to tell someone because my therapy is talking out my problems.  So, a few people were told.  I tried to be very nonchalant about it. . . until yesterday.

All day "I'm too young!  I'm too young, I'm only 30," kept playing in my head.  This shouldn't be happening to me at 30.  Prayers and a priesthood blessing calmed me.  I received an answer that I didn't want to question, but that I knew I wouldn't completely understand until after my appointment today.

I cried on the way to the hospital.  I had to let it out.  First of all, I hate that hospital.  The smells, the sounds, everything sends the emotions from Clarissa and Jackson swirling around me.  That hospital doesn't mean hope to me, it means gloom.  Secondly, I think of all the things that scare me in this world (snakes, heights, the dark), and the thing that scares me the absolute most is if the words are "Yes, that's what it is" today.  I don't want to hear the "c" word.  That word terrifies me.  The what-ifs are plaguing me.

I'm there early, and I get in early.  The nurse/technician gives me the robe to put on my upper half and tells me where to wait.  When there's a question of why when I'm only 30 am I here for a routine screening and "it's too high, this machine won't see anything," she leaves me alone in the room with the Machine.  I look at it, ominously humming at me, thinking how painful it can be and yet wondering how in the world it really works.  I think I remember seeing a video online about it somewhere.  Will this Machine give me the answers I'm looking for or will it be something else?  Secretly, I don't want to go anywhere near the machine.

My heart gives a small leap when she returns and tells me that they're going to do an ultrasound instead.  I want to turn around and stick my tongue out at the machine.   I return to the waiting room and sit a while longer for the ultrasound technician to "say" my name (it's more like "attempt to say my name" until I tell them how to pronounce it).

She takes me into a room, and I recognize this machine.  This one doesn't scare me, and I know I can have answers immediately.  I won't have to wait until my doctor calls me, or will I?  Nope, they bring in a radiologist so he can tell me before I leave.  I look on the screen, and I like to think I can understand what I'm seeing after several prenatal ultrasounds and seeing ultrasounds on Jackson.

The radiologist speaks, "It's not cancer.  There's nothing there and nothing to worry about."  Inwardly, I relax, but I listen intently as he explains further and tells me what to look for later on if I ever wonder again what it is I'm really feeling.  (Turns out it's just tissue that's developed differently on one side than the other.)

I wait to cry relief when I get to the car.  I text Matt and meet him outside of his building to give him the good news.  I think of all the tests I won't have to endure or the explanations I'd have to give Jackson or the bills I won't have to pay.  I thank the Lord the entire way home and shed some more tears, and I completely understand the meaning of, "The Lord has other things in store for you,"  and I'm thankful that "other things" don't include cancer.

The Path: What You Must Carry

After I wrote the first post, I've been thinking more and more about The Path.  So, you'll be getting a series of posts, I'm afraid.

I believe we start on our paths when we are born.  The ideal is that we are born with just our bodies to burden us for a while on the path.  After all, we started in the pre-mortal life  as spirits who were not used to bodies.  The Lord knew we'd have enough on our plates learning to feel hunger, cold, pain, touch, etc.  He gave us little bodies so we could grow into them, adjust to them.  We'd be "adjusting" to them our entire lives, but it would be better to start small with the basic things before we had more burdens to carry.

That situation is the ideal.  Most babies born only really have that to worry about because that's all they process.  However, some babies are born with burdens already placed on their backs either because of another person's choices or because nature intervenes (of course, I really believe that it's not nature, but God who gives us some of these challenges).  For example, some babies are born prematurely either by the choices the mother made while the baby was in utero, or because they just came (like Jackson -- there is no explanation for his early arrival).  Other burdens that babies shouldn't have to bear are things like Fetal Alcohol Syndrome, neglect, blindness, cerebral palsy, autism, congenital heart defects, and the list goes on and on.  These are burdens that don't go away, they are ones that the babies will have to carry for the duration of their journey.

After a while, some may not even consider them burdens, but blessings. They even learn how to use their "burdens" to lift others.  Have you seen this guy yet?  (Make sure to watch other videos of him if you haven't.  I just picked a clip.)




As a child grows, more burdens may be placed and others eased while others are just named.  For example, Jackson had many burdens because of his prematurity, and many of those burdens were lifted due to therapy, medication, surgeries, etc.  I believe he's always carried his PDD-NOS, but it wasn't until this year that it was finally named.

Other burdens placed on a person or picked up along the way can be adoption, abuse, addiction, diabetes, cancer, death of another, grief, infertility, financial ruin, etc.    Many burdens, when first placed upon our backs are very debilitating, and we can not lift them on our own.   I'm sure you're thinking right now of all of the burdens you've carried at some point in your life and perhaps some of the heaviest that you are carrying now. 

  Yes, I'm sure you've dumped out a bunch of your burdens when you wondered why you were carrying it any longer, and I'll bet some burdens that you've dumped, you've somehow picked back up again.  For instance, I constantly seem to pick up the "you are what you weigh" burden.  I keep trying to dump it, I promise.

Some of these burdens are lighter than others and some seem to lighten along the way.  I would venture to say that they don't lighten, but you become stronger.  Do you realize how strong you are?  You, my friend, are amazing.  Look how far you've come with what you've had to carry in your life!  Does that mean it will get easier?  Heck, no!  But it does mean you can keep going because you've already come so far.  Give yourself some credit.  The burdens and trials will keep coming, they just will, but you can make it because you are strong and because you are not alone on this path for very long at a time.  (More on that in a future post.)

What burdens are you carrying now?  What has helped you the most in easing your burdens?

Paths

How did we meet?  Do you remember?  When did our paths first cross?  Are our paths still one, or side by side or distant but within calling distance? Are we continually helping each other up along the way, or have we moved on that we don't really know what's going on with each other?

Or are you a "stalker"?  Are you watching my life without being involved (aka reading my blog and I don't know it)?  I know there are some people like that for me.

What do you remember about our time together on the path?

I've been doing a lot of thinking about life's journey, in particular mine and yours; well, at least how it relates to mine.  I believe we each have a path with a destination, and I believe that many times our paths cross.  Sometimes they cross just once, a quick intersection.  Other times, our paths parallel each other for a long time.  There have been times that my path has crossed another traveler's path more than once.  Some of you I feel like I have made my path stick close to yours because once I found you, I refuse to lose sight of you.  Many of you, if not most, I never expected to find or "run into" - you were a complete surprise, while others were just always there.

I've thought about you.  Yes, you.  I can bet that I can pick out where on my path that either we first met or when we last met.   Each of you have helped me on my path, somehow.  Perhaps you didn't think or realize you were helping, but somehow you helped me back to my destination.

So, what does my path look like?  A lot like this:

Where are we going?  That depends.  Where do you want to go?  I believe that the Lord has a specific destination in mind for us as well, but we get to choose how we get there and if we even end up there.  Lately I'm finding out more and more that I always end back to where the Lord wants me to be.
 

Sometimes, it looks a lot like this:

A lot of forest, no path.  Usually, I get to this point and realize I've made a wrong turn.  Other times, I realize that the Lord is telling me that it's time for me to blaze my own path for a while.  Once in a while, there's a ginormous boulder blocking the path.  Sometimes I chip away with an ice pick, other times I have an army lifting and pushing it out of the way helping me.  You are that army.

I've been wondering about my path lately.   Once in a while I realize that I was meant to travel a path but not to the destination that I was expecting.  My end goal is still the same but the pit stops along the way change.  I admit that there are pit stops and road blocks that terrify me, that weary me, that frustrate me.  Some days I sit and cry.  However much I loathe these, they shape me.

Right now, I'm on a path that is blinded by the trees.  I'm not exactly sure where I'm supposed to go, but I keep trudging.  I pray to have an answer, and I stop and listen frequently lately.  I do a lot of looking, peering around corners, wishing I had binoculars.   Lately, I feel like someone is throwing rocks, trying to hold me back, making me angry, and losing focus.  The rocks are sometimes large enough that I have to chuck them out of the way, or ice pick them to death.

Every day, though, I'm grateful for the company on my path.  When I feel alone, all I have to do is holler, and I find someone near.  Someone usually answers my call.  Thank you, all of you, for helping me on my path.  I only hope I can help you on yours the same way you've helped me.

Just Breathe

Yesterday I sat and didn't raise my voice.  I was amazed that I could do this.  However, as I tried to not yell or get upset because my son was struggling so much and was frustrated (and was taking it out on me), I could not suppress the emotions completely.  I didn't fight back this time, for it's not me he's fighting although it appears that way.  He's fighting a battle that right now he feels he's losing.  He struggles.  Usually, I lose my temper and yell back at him to calm down and to not get mad at me.  Sadly, this is hypocritical and does nothing.  Yesterday I finally didn't yell.

I found, though, that yelling is therapeutic, well, for me that is.  I get my emotional release, but it hurts more than it helps.  If I don't yell, the emotions "leak" out.  When the tortuous half hour of homework was over, he bounced back, quickly.  I did not.  I don't want to sound blasphemous in any way, but I felt a little like the Savior, who after being beaten and whipped and scourged kept taking it.  I said to myself, "So, this is what it's like to feel beaten over and over again?"

I had no regrets.  None.  I was at peace with the way I handled my emotions, mostly, but there was so much turmoil rushing through my veins.  "How do I help my son?  Am I really the best fit for my son?  This is so hard!  What do I do?  I'm lost."  There was only one place to turn.  I closed my bedroom door and poured out my thoughts in prayer.  I felt calm and reassured that for once, once, I'd handled things the best I could even though I felt so inadequate. Yet the tears streamed, and I sobbed. 

This morning I was studying my scriptures (in the Book of Mormon), and I found my answer.  I found it in Moroni 7:45-48.  For those who are familiar with this scripture, you will recognize it as the charity verses.  I'm only quoting verses 45 and 48 here and the italics are added by me for emphasis.

"And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
 ...........................................................................................
Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen."

My answer:  one day is not good enough.  Yes, it was good, but I need to do this every day.  Every day, and you know what?  I can.  Not alone, no, but with the strength that I can receive from prayer and my Savior.   I have to pray for it, and in asking for help, I will receive it.  I will. 

If only. . .

The saying goes that hindsight is 20/20.  When we look back at where we were with what we know now, we see so much clearer.  Guess what? I disagree.

Let's be honest.  If you look back do you see what really happened, or do you see what you think happened based on what you know now?  Do you really remember it the way it really was, or have your emotions changed about that time, that incident such that your truth has changed? Are you sure the way you remember it is true?

Now, I want you to think about life right now.  What is the hardest thing happening in your life, or are all the things in your life compounded to make it unbearable?  If only this one thing would go away.  If only I could change this one little thing life would be better.  If only I could go back and make a different choice.  If only I could go back to a happier time, an easier time.  Things weren't really that bad were they?  Weren't they better then than they are now?

I'm reminded of a poem from the book Holes by Louis Sachar

If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs,
The bark on the tree was as soft as the skies.
The wolf waits below, hungry and lonely,
And cries to the moon,
if only, if only.

Believe me, I've had my own list of "if onlys"

If only I had gotten in the habit of exercising instead of eating when I was stressed.
If only we had adopted a baby sooner.
If only I hadn't gotten pregnant when I did.
If only Jackson had been born on his due date.
If only we waited to buy a house.
If only we saved to pay cash for our car.
If only I didn't complain about my calling to so many people.
If only Jackson didn't have PDD-NOS.
If only Boston wasn't so far away.
If only I didn't eat three Krispy Kremes after my 5K on Saturday (yes, I really did).
If only I didn't yell at my son nearly as often.
If only I didn't say that thing to my husband the other day.
If only Matt got a huge raise.
If only I went back to work full-time.
If only I had five kids.  (ahahahaha. . . )
If only, if only, if only.

But guess what?  IT ISN'T!  If only is NOT and may NEVER BE.  There are past if onlys and future if onlys.  Past If Onlys don't exist, can't exist, DIDN'T exist.  Move on.  Okay, that's definitely easier said than done.  The truth is that hindsight is not 20/20 all the time.  The truth is that sometimes the past looks better than it really was, or (dare I say) worse than it really was. How many of us look at our teenage years as either glorified or completely horrific when really, it wasn't either?  (I know there are some stories that really are that bad, I won't say that those don't exist because we all know that they really do.)  Time to take off the rose/gray colored glasses (depending on what you're wearing).

Future If onlys may have some merit if they are realistic.  The goal is to QUIT SAYING "IF ONLY" AND GET UP AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.  Don't murmur and complain, Get up and Do! I have so many Future If Onlys, and most of the time, I put them up in the clouds where I can't reach them.  Guess what?  It's time I either take them down and make them realities or let them go.  It's time to live with the now.

Right now I can't change many things in my life, but I can change my attitude about them.  I can be proactive.  I can let things be.  I've decided to let adoption be for a while.  I've done about all I can for now, and so it is time to let it be (not let go) for a bit.  I can't change who Jackson is, but I can learn all I can and help him learn who he is and reach his full potential.  The one thing I can change is my attitude.  As a wise high school teacher proclaimed (almost from the rooftops)

ATTITUDE IS EVERYTHING!* 

She is right.

This is a TOUGH journey, but the only way to find pure joy in the now is to let go of the "if onlys."

What are your if onlys?  What are you doing about them?

*Those who know this teacher will know why the words are in yellow.

Catching My Joy

Time for another very honest post.  This month for National Adoption Month, mrs r has issued a challenge to blog about adoption every day.  This challenge, this awareness month, has come at a very difficult mental time for me.  I've been thinking about an adoption break.  I have many reasons for this break, but the top most reason is this guy, right here:

This guy is MY LIFE.  I have spent four years wishing, hoping, anticipating for another child.  I've never been ungrateful, not once, for my miracle.  How could I be? Four years ago, Matt and I made the decision we wanted to adopt a child; we received an answer to our prayers that we were to pursue adoption.  Four years later, here we are with a perspective on life that, in some ways, has stayed the same, but, in other ways, has changed immensely.  We still have not adopted.

This summer, I finally made some big decisions that were necessary for my guy.  I now understand my son in a way that I didn't before; and I understand that there is so much I DON'T understand.  I still have a long ways to go.  I realize that I am where I was with adoption - pursuing a path in front of me, uneducated.  This time, the path has taken a direction that I didn't see coming.  This path is laid out before me, and the choices are different.  The choices are about how and what I'm going to do on this path.  I can not just walk away from this one, from him.  It's time to be educated about the path I chose before adoption.

In a way, I can see that adoption has sucked a part of my life away.  For four years, I've anticipated adoption, and I realize now that I have a choice.  Although it will forever be a part of my life and something that I understand better than I ever have before, I am at a crossroads.  I can choose to walk away; I can let things be for a while; or I can keep pushing forward.  Right now, I'm going to let things be.  I'm not letting go completely, but let's just say I'm giving some slack.

The absolute most important thing I've learned in the last three months is that I LOVE MY GUY.  He is enough.  I'm happy with my life, and I feel like I have been blessed beyond measure.  He is worth it to me to live my life for him.  He is my blessing.  (Yes, we are still hoping for adoption.  If the time comes that we get to adopt, then don't mistake that I won't feel the same about another child; but I'm talking about if that time never comes. )

Basically, I'm tossing the guilt and catching the joy.  I will probably post about adoption this month (as I have some posts I haven't published yet), and now that I've gotten these thoughts out of the way, I'll probably post more than I thought I would; but I'm not going to let myself feel guilty about not posting adoption any more.  I'm not feeling guilty about not reading adoption as much as I used to.  I'm catching the joy that is my life now.

The Currant Bush

I still feel like I have a lot going on in my mind that I'm trying to sort out.  Am I fighting change or accepting it?  Can I stand to "sit still" even if that's what I'm supposed to do?  Today in church a boy shared the following story.

The Currant Bush

 by Hugh B. Brown

You sometimes wonder whether the Lord really knows what he ought to do with you. You sometimes wonder if you know better than he does about what you ought to do and ought to become. I am wondering if I may tell you a story that I have told quite often in the Church. It is a story that is older than you are. It’s a piece out of my own life, and I’ve told it in many stakes and missions. It has to do with an incident in my life when God showed me that he knew best.
 
I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’ ”

Time passed. Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian Army. I had made rather rapid progress as far as promotions are concerned, and I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian Army. And I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. There was just one man between me and that which for ten years I had hoped to get, the office of general in the British Army. I swelled up with pride. And this one man became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner in charge of all Canadian forces. I called in my valet, my personal servant. I told him to polish my buttons, to brush my hat and my boots, and to make me look like a general because that is what I was going to be. He did the best he could with what he had to work on, and I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the General, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer. Someone else will be made a general.” That for which I had been hoping and praying for ten years suddenly slipped out of my fingers.

Then he went into the other room to answer the telephone, and I took a soldier’s privilege of looking on his desk. I saw my personal history sheet. Right across the bottom of it in bold, block-type letters was written, “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.” We were not very well liked in those days. When I saw that, I knew why I had not been appointed. I already held the highest rank of any Mormon in the British Army. He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly. I saluted out of duty and went out. I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. And every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure. You will be called a coward when you get home. You raised all those Mormon boys to join the army, then you sneak off home.” I knew what I was going to get, and when I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.

And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness. While kneeling there I heard a song being sung in an adjoining tent. A number of Mormon boys met regularly every Tuesday night. I usually met with them. We would sit on the floor and have a Mutual Improvement Association. As I was kneeling there, praying for forgiveness, I heard their voices singing:

“It may not be on the mountain height
Or over the stormy sea;
It may not be at the battle’s front
My Lord will have need of me;
But if, by a still, small voice he calls
To paths that I do not know,
I’ll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:
I’ll go where you want me to go.”
(Hymns, no. 75.)

I arose from my knees a humble man. And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to him and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.” I see now that it was wise that I should not become a general at that time, because if I had I would have been senior officer of all western Canada, with a lifelong, handsome salary, a place to live, and a pension when I’m no good any longer, but I would have raised my six daughters and two sons in army barracks. They would no doubt have married out of the Church, and I think I would not have amounted to anything. I haven’t amounted to very much as it is, but I have done better than I would have done if the Lord had let me go the way I wanted to go.

I wanted to tell you that oft-repeated story because there are many of you who are going to have some very difficult experiences: disappointment, heartbreak, bereavement, defeat. You are going to be tested and tried to prove what you are made of. I just want you to know that if you don’t get what you think you ought to get, remember, “God is the gardener here. He knows what he wants you to be.” Submit yourselves to his will. Be worthy of his blessings, and you will get his blessings. (Hugh B. Brown, “The Currant Bush,” New Era, Jan 1973, 14)

 Thank you, Casey, for sharing this story.  Thank you for reminding me that my Father knows what is best.  I can not complain; I have been and am being blessed daily.  I'm going to be the best Currant Bush I can be!

 (Picture from http://www.hort.purdue.edu/ext/senior/fruits/currant1.htm)

Changes

Do you remember the movie Big with Tom Hanks?  Most people, when they think of that movie, think of the scene when Josh and his boss play "Chopsticks"  and "Heart and Soul" on the giant floor piano.  This morning, I thought of that movie, but not the piano scene.  When I woke up, I groggly stumbled to the bathroom, blinded myself by turning on the light, and then like all mornings, looked in the mirror.  I took my hands and rubbed my mid-section -- the part of me that I wish would change the fastest but is taking the longeset.  Then, I thought of the following scene from Big (sorry it's dubbed over in Spanish, but you don't need the words anyway).




As I looked at myself in the mirror, I thought, "What was I expecting?  Change over night?"  Let's face it.  How many of us have these high expectations for ourselves?  You embark on a journey of change, and you know it's going to be hard, but this hard?  The first week, two weeks, even the first month can be motivating.  You're pushing yourself, making the necessary changes, and you see some progress: transformation.  You're finally becoming what you've always wanted to be.  Really!  It can happen!  That brick wall is being torn down.

Six months later,  you look in the mirror, and you still see that same person six months ago.  How can that be?  Oh, yeah, remember that stumbling block you tripped over?  The one you stood behind forever because you just let it stop you?  Real, true change takes time, patience, endurance, work, and more time.  Is it possible?  Absolutely.  Will it come over night and stay for good?  Nope.  Work, work, work, work, work, WORK!  Sometimes it's downright annoying.  What's it going to take?  Focus and refocus. 

The problem I find is that all too often when we are changing or watching others change, we keep a mental picture in our heads; one to which we keep going back.  Maybe we are changing, but all we see are the negative side of things.  It's so easy to hit that one little road bump that seems so huge at the moment and let it stop us.  We just can't do it, or so we say to ourselves.

Sometimes, we even go in reverse, getting further and further away from that block that seems huge.  All we can see is that it's big.  The thing is, though, if we endure, push, fight, that is when change happens.  Eventually, we notice we're over that bump.  Will there be more stumbling blocks along the way?  Absolutely.   The thing is, though, that when we finally look back at our progress, that first block is now small.  Even if we trip backwards over it again, we know we've done it before.  The point is to get back up immediately and jump it while we still have the strength.

This has been a lot of rambling, I know, I can feel it.  What I'm saying is that change is possible, for everyone, but it takes time, and lots of it.  The harder we work, the less time it takes, but sometimes we have to give ourselves a chance to catch up to our expectations. 

I have a long way to go in my journey to love and accept myself, but I'm getting closer.  Last weekend I had a meltdown.  Life finally caught up to me, and I sobbed over the things I can't change right now.  That overwhelming helpless feeling took over me.  Three things in my mind stuck out the most that I just couldn't change at the moment.  For a second, I thought, "What about your weight, who you are?  What about that?"  Normally, those prompts would open more flood gates and frustrations.  This time, for the first time, they didn't.  I felt in control.  I have seen successes, albeit not as quickly as I wanted them, but still success.  For the first time in my life, I could say that I was okay with who I am at the moment because I have seen change.  I'm finally learning to love myself, overweight and all.

FYI: A Lesson in Grieving

(Clarissa's burial dress)

Over the last several months, I've occasionally heard some sad stories about grieving friends and others whom I have never met. In several of these cases, the grieving people talk of loved ones who are trying to help, but have no clue that what they're really doing is adding stress and anger. Coming from someone who grieves a little each day, here are some dos and don'ts to help you know what you can do to help.

DO: Pray for them that they can find comfort and peace.
DON'T: Lecture or tell them how they can find peace. For example, don't say, "You don't need to cry, your loved one is in heaven." Most of the time, we already know this, but it doesn't take away the pain of LOSS. The truth does give comfort, but usually grief is not for where the person may be but it's about what we don't have, what we are missing, or the pain and trauma of how we lost that special person.

DO: Call, send a card, give flowers, send an email or note, or drop by for a visit if you feel like you get those promptings in your heart. It's always nice to know that someone is thinking about you. Also, if you happen to remember an anniversary of someone's loss, don't be afraid to call someone and let them know you were thinking of them. You can bet they're thinking of it that day, and it's so nice when someone calls. My mom and dad are great at this!

DON'T: Expect someone to be "done" grieving. Grief never fully goes away, but the pain lessens over time. NEVER, EVER tell someone that it's time for them to "move on." Nothing can ever replace the loss, and grieving is different for everyone. You may think you know someone who seemed to move past the loss quickly, but let's be honest and admit that we never truly know the inner strugglings of someone else. They may wear a happy face in public, but in private they may shed many tears.
Story: A friend of mine asked me once "How long is it okay to grieve?" I told her to take as long as she needed. She then proceeded to tell me about a cousin of hers who told her that she needed to get over her loss because her emotions and depression were hard on the rest of the family and bringing them down. Ouch! That's like saying, "we're done comforting you, so you're on your own."

DO: Expect the grief/emotions to hit at unexpected times. Although the pain of my loss has greatly lessened, the grief and pain every once in a while hit at random times (at least it may seem that way to others). Remember my Toys R Us experience?

DO: Let the grieving person talk about their experiences and loved ones as much as they need. It's very healing to be able to let your emotions, thoughts, and feelings out.
DON'T: Feel uncomfortable when they talk about their experiences, they're not trying to get you to feel bad, it's usually because that's is what is on their mind. Also, the more you're there for someone, the easier for that person to find peace and comfort. (Thanks to Natalie who was at my house EVERY day for a long time afterwards, and who never chides me for my moments. Love you!)

Finally, thank you to all of you who try your best to help someone who is mourning. Overall, I know that people in general are trying to be helpful, but they sometimes say things that hurt, and they don't realize it. (It happened to me.) I hope this helps somewhat.

(Clarissa's shadowbox that hangs on my living room wall.)