How my mountain made me better

Pregnancy is scary.

It's incredible and uncomfortable and a gift, and it's scary.

The past few days have made this all seem real in a way that it never has before. This morning Eric and I were surprised and kind of amused to look at my belly and see that it was lopsided. Baby Girl was sitting curled up right by my belly button, and when I put my hand on her, she gave an almighty kick before squirming back into a less awkward looking position.

I've been thinking about that all day. I used to have a playlist of songs that comforted me after my miscarriages. I was in a sad place and a scared place, and I was hearing all sorts of frightening things from doctors. I tried to be optimistic, but in the back of my mind always was a little voice constantly whispering to me. What if you will never carry to term? What if you can't have children? What if something is wrong with you? What if this is forever? What if the tests find something? What if the tests don't find anything at all? What if there's never a reason?

I horrified myself a lot. In those times, I listened to my playlist and let my spirit soak in all the comfort it could. Music is important to me. I've always heard God speak to me through music when no other way could reach me. It has a way of softening my heart, of breaking through the anger and the bitterness that I sometimes have found myself lost in. I know when I feel resentment, I need to go listen to my music, because that's the surest way to heal my heart, or at least to help me listen to God's messages for me.

These days, I haven't listened to my playlist much. But today, after seeing such a clear indication that my baby is alive and well and thriving and demanding my attention, I decided to go back and listen to those songs, and to see if they would still touch my heart in the same way that they did when I was struggling.

It's interesting how easy it is for me to forget all the comfort the Lord has brought me in the past, when I finally get what I asked for.

I think those songs touched me more now than they ever have, because I look back and see them from the perspective of someone who has climbed that mountain. It's different to see your struggles from the peak. I can look down and see the places where I hurt the most, where I almost gave up, where I felt like I couldn't take another step. And I can see, from up here, that all of those tough places where I cried and prayed and continued on despite my pain were the places where I became better...and all of those places were where I found a foothold, even when I thought there was none. I look at myself from up here and I remember who I was at the bottom of the mountain, and I see all that has changed. I see all the rough edges I once had that are now softened. I see the new abilities I have now that I learned during my climb, even though at the time, it just felt like I was breaking apart. All that shaping and smoothing and becoming felt more like crumbling. But now I see that I'm stronger than ever, but I'm more, too. I have new places in my heart that I didn't have before, pockets of compassion and peace and hope that I didn't even realize were taking hold of me until they were there.

I listened to my old comfort playlist and I remembered being the girl who felt so small and so breakable and so alone, and I realize that she has changed. I'm proud of that girl, though. I'm grateful to her for trusting herself with Heavenly Father, even though she felt so completely fragile. She didn't know, the way I do now, that she would be so much better for her pain. In fact, she felt sort of betrayed by God sometimes. I'm sort of in awe that I was ever that person who felt so tiny and still trusted Him to take this pain and make it into something better. I look back on that and I feel a conviction that He doesn't leave us alone, even when we feel alone. Even when it is terrifying to say, "I will go through the fire if You want me to."

This little girl growing inside of me is getting a better mother, because of the simple fact that my Savior did what He always does: He saved me. He was my balm, and He was my friend, even when I was so hurt that I couldn't see Him. He was my Comforter.

I don't know what happened to the babies growing inside of me before this little one. I don't know if they were separate little spirits and if I will see them again, but in my heart I think that I will be able to raise them one day. I am eternally grateful for eternal families, because I know that one way or another, my family will be whole.

So yes, pregnancy is still scary. Sometimes it ends tragically, and sometimes there is no reason for that. I'm not safe from that pain. But whatever storms come, I know I can stand.

"And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon with ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall."

-Helaman 5:12

 

 

 

 



**For those interested, this is the playlist mentioned above. They aren't all "church" songs, as a wide variety of music touches my heart. If you have any to add, please share!

• Where Can I Turn For Peace? -Katherine Nelson
• Better Than I -David Campbell
• If You Want Me To -Ginny Owens
• Nearer My God To Thee -The Mormon Tabernacle Choir
• Be Still My Soul -Jadon Lavik
• I Know That My Redeemer Lives -Linda Rowberry
• After The Storm -Mumford and Sons
• Stand -Rascal Flatts
• Where Can I Turn For Peace? -Katherine Nelson

Three days without Facebook. Because I haaaate myself.

This morning I checked Facebook. Then I went to work. Then I checked Facebook again. I spent the first hour of the day working and checking Facebook until I read something that made my heart twist. See, I have several Facebook friends who are pregnant and who got pregnant around the same time I did. However, their babies are healthy. I had a miscarriage. I would have found out whether my baby was a boy or girl this month...and that means that THEY are all finding out and excitedly posting their news to Facebook. Meanwhile, I'm torturing myself by obsessively reading their updates and looking at pictures of their cute bellies and the sweet baby socks and clothes and books that they're receiving as gifts. I am not even close to being over my miscarriage. I feel like a mother without a child. I am jealous, angry, empty, and sad every time I see one of those updates. It's hard, REALLY hard to be happy for people who are getting what I thought I'd have. I lost it, seemingly at random, seemingly by chance, seemingly for no reason, and arbitrarily they didn't. But I digress. Because the point is that after I saw this girl's update and felt that familiar sinking, empty, drowning-in-a-well-filled-with-my-own-emotions-blaaaaah feeling, I got PISSED.

I'm mad! WHY am I doing this to myself?! Is this REALLY how I want to feel?? No one is forcing me to look! I sat there, staring at the computer screen for at least five minutes, realizing that I am torturing myself. I have a wound that's trying to heal, and I keep ripping it open and examining it. What is wrong with me? I'm not a jealous person. I'm not a person who doesn't rejoice in the happiness of others. I'm not a wallower. In the past I've always been able to muster up enthusiasm and joy for people who have what I want.

See, without Facebook, I wouldn't even know that these friends are all having girls so far. They could tell me or I could find out on a better timeline, one where I don't have to crumple into a pathetic pile of sadness in secret and they don't have to feel guilty for sharing their good news. I actually am not sure if they all even know, but I don't want them to feel bad when they post a picture of an ultrasound.

I've realized that being a part of every single thing that every other person does is a responsibility. If we're going to have that much knowledge about the lives of one another, if we're going to give ourselves so much freaking ability to be connected at all times, then we have to learn not to abuse it. Torturing ourselves with Facebook is NOT responsible behavior. It's insane. It's kind of sick. I do it all the time. It's not just the miscarriage, either. I can't count how many times I've felt awful after comparing myself to other people, particularly other people I hardly even know. And when was the last time I argued for hours on end over some stupid political opinion in real life? Facebook is the perfect forum for that, unfortunately. I get to watch some awesome things happen in the lives of my friends, but I also get to feel just sick to death because of all the negativity. It's negativity I force upon myself.

Not everyone needs to know what I'm thinking! I don't need to know what everyone else is thinking, either. I don't need to hurt over someone else's baby when I'm not even finished hurting over mine. Seeing other women's pregnancies work out so up close and personally makes me forget the peace that God has given me after hours of prayer and thought. It makes me forget that sometimes I need to focus on my own personal tragedies before I can heal enough to face the world. After my miscarriage, I shut myself into my apartment and took a week of alone time, some of it with my husband, some without. It felt good to just deal on my own. But I wasn't ever really alone with my grief, because I was on Facebook. Because even when I was weighed down with my own suffering, I was still involved, however indirectly, in the affairs of other people. Their lives just went on while mine was utterly halted for a while and watching that makes a cynic out of anyone. I have enough stress in my life without everyone else's on top of it.

This post was originally supposed to be a lighthearted humor piece about how much Facebook sucks. I even had ms paint up to draw some hilarious pictures of myself curled up in a deprived ball on the floor. I probably should have written this after the anger subsided and I may even go back and delete it because I'm not sure I'm ready to share yet, but I've gotta say, it feels good. I cannot believe it took me this long to figure this crap out.

So here's my plan to start getting my Facebook habit under control: I'm not going to be on Facebook until Saturday at the earliest, longer if I can handle it, just to see how it feels. Then I'll have to come up with some sort of battle plan, because this sucks and I'm not letting a stupid website control my emotions anymore. Who knows? Maybe I'll even be able to come to terms with my feelings on my own without interference, however indirect or unintentional, from anyone else.

Girls, please live by these words

Lemme tell you a 'lil somthin' somthin'...pretty lasts.  Hot is an expendable commodity.

GIRLS.  BE PRETTY.

I just had to share this because it's currently the best video on youtube.

A post about how much high school sucks and how important it is to be a decent human being.

When I was in high school, I used to be really, incredibly, insanely, and PAINFULLY jealous of other girls.  I was insecure and more than a little awkward.  I was a total dork but pretended to be into school dances and shopping for expensive dresses and gossiping.

And you know what?  I failed.  I failed hard.  I failed so hard, in fact, that I became absolutely silent at school.  Seriously, if one of these girls who I wanted to be friends with so much as talked to me, my brain would freeze up and I would try so so hard to think of anything to say.  Anything at all.

Hi, self.  It's me again.  Say something.  Anything.  Say that you agree.  Or like her shoes.  Or...I don't know.  Say "hi"?  That's acceptable, right?

And then I would try to say "hi" and it would come out as a nervous squeak and I would feel shame for the rest of the day.

I eventually became friends with all the boys because, well, boys are chill.  They play Halo.  They high five.  They don't feel the need to bash every person not within hearing range.  Being friends with boys in high school, though, means that every single girl is going to call you names.  Mean names, horrible names, and sometimes they're going to blame you for things you didn't do just because blaming you is easier than facing problems themselves. And sometimes they're going to do that in the middle of lunch in front of everyone and it's going to be accompanied by swear words and you're going to cry and get mascara all over your face.  And then you'll go sit in your car and cry some more for a few hours and wonder what's wrong with you and then you'll go back inside and pretend like nothing happened, because that's what you do when you're in high school.  And believe me, I feel for you. It's a complex, messed up system. 

High school was this miserable time for me.  But I learned some freaking important lessons. Such as...


Sometimes, life is a five year old's birthday party.

What do I mean by that?  Well, some days you're the pinata and some days you're the blind little kid dangerously swinging a baseball bat.  In high school, I think I focused a bit too much on my pinata days.  I was angry, SO angry at the people who gossiped about me, hurt me, pretended to be friends with me, humiliated me in front of classmates, ignored me when I was standing right there, and called me a slut every five seconds.  So angry, in fact, that I still would cry about it well after graduation.

Funny thing though.  It's hard to be angry about that sort of thing when you understand something.  I was the punching bag a lot in school, but I'm often the blindfolded kid too.  Sometimes, people are blind.  They hurt you and they hurt you a lot but they don't understand what they are doing.  They learn from hurting you.  But, you have to remember, you learned from hurting someone too at some point in your life.  We don't always get to be the victim, sometimes we're the bad guy and honestly, that's actually good for us.  A decent person will learn from it.


Those people are NOT worth your tears.

I spent a few really creepy hours on Facebook recently stalking some of the girls who I used to be so insanely jealous of.  You know how I felt?  I didn't feel better than them, or equal to them, or included or vindicated or anything.  I just felt free.  I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing.  I've embraced the Star Wars loving, video game playing, pokemon obsessed girl that I am and that is beyond awesome, you guys. 

When you're doing what you love to do, it's hard to be jealous of anyone, even the people you enjoy and respect.  It isn't about feeling superior.  It isn't about feeling like you're the bigger person.  It's just about being so happy with yourself that they can't do anything about it anymore.  They just become unworthy of your tears, not because they are bad or fail-tastic people, but just because it isn't worth your time to cry about it anymore.


It is so so so so important to be kind.

I've grown up and I'm not going to give a verbal butt-kicking to the next mean girl I encounter from those days.  But I know how it feels.  I know what it's like to dwell on painful, hurtful memories.  I get the anger, the resentment, the depression.  I understand what it's like to feel like there is something immensely wrong with you.  I know that there are certain memories that just won't unstick themselves from you and that you can't wish away no matter how hard you try.  That's why I never ever EVER want to make someone feel that way.

Promise yourself right now that you will never be that person.  Don't make someone feel worthless.  Don't let a lonely kid fall through the cracks.  Be everyone's friend.  Be everyone's support.  You don't know what someone's life is like in reality.  Remember that indifference can be just as painful as outright cruelty to someone who feels alone.

Don't let anyone look back at you and see only what you did to them.  Don't even let them look back and remember you as the person who stood by and watched.

In the words of Jesse Jackson, never look down on anybody unless you're helping him up.