Christmas

This Christmas is one that our family will never forget. During Thanksgiving week, I got a call from the Post Falls police department informing me that our family was nominated and chosen to participate in the Holidays and Heroes program. This program allows families in need to create a Christmas list of three wants and three needs for each member of their family, the police officers do the shopping, and then they show up at your house with wrapped boxes of presents. I tried to tell them that we were doing okay financially, even after our rough few months of hospital bills, and surely this could bless another family more than ours, but they insisted that if anything our family needed to know that we were loved. A couple weeks later, the officers showed up with more gifts than we could have imagined, along with boxes of food, crafts for my kids, a handmade quilt for Brooklyn, and more. We were not in need of all of the food, so we were able to pass some on to families in need in our community. It felt good to be able to bless others because we had been so blessed.

Then a friend at our church nominated us and we were chosen to receive 15 beautiful books for our kids' personal library. Once again, we felt loved and noticed. 

When we were going through our rough patch, both Kyle and I often wondered where God's love was or if He was aware of our family at all. It was hard not to feel like we had been abandoned in a time when we needed God most. When all of this happened for Christmas, Kyle mentioned that it was like God's way of showing us that He was there and we were loved all along. Maybe we didn't "need" everything we were blessed with, but we surely felt loved, so if that was the goal, it was accomplished.

We are going to contribute to both of these programs next year to spread love to other families who may just need to know that they are not forgotten and are loved.

Life Isn't Fair

I see these memories pop up and every time my heart physically aches and tears automatically well up in my eyes. I can't help but question why? Why does our family have to end here? I wanted so badly to prove to myself that my broken body was still capable of producing life. I wanted to announce our sweet double rainbow baby and finally get to celebrate a pregnancy that wouldn't end in miscarriage. I wanted to feel the miracle of life growing inside my body again. I wanted to snuggle my newborn close and smell that sweet, fresh smell. I even thought having another baby could help heal some of the parts of my heart that hurt so terribly because the innocence of a new life seemed to have the potential to soften past pains. I don't mean to complain or sound pessimistic. I'm just expressing the human emotions that come with unmet expectations and dreams. I never thought half of my pregnancies would not make it. I never thought our family would end at two. So while I'm thankful for my two beautiful kids, there's still a piece of me that feels like it's missing, and that gap may never be filled.

But if there's one thing I've learned in the last few years, it's that life isn't fair for anyone. It isn't fair that we had to lose two babies and can't have anymore, but it's also not fair for someone else that they don't get to have the supportive marriage that I have. It's not fair that I have struggled with severe depression for so many years, but it's not fair for someone else that they don't have a home or the financial security that I have. The list could go on and on. Nothing about life is fair, so we feel the pain and hurt, and then we go on, helping each other through our own unique unfairness. I'm certainly thankful for the people who have helped me through mine.

My Dark Night

 Everything I wish people could understand about suicide summarized in one quote posted by my new friend Katelyn: “They didn’t want to leave; they just didn’t know how to stay.”  I wish beyond anything that people could understand that.  Nothing has ever hit so close to home as reading that quote.

I want to share a story, one that would have been too painful to share just a week ago before working through this in EMDR.  Please use caution in reading this if you are struggling.  I don’t want it to bring any unnecessary pain to anyone who is already suffering.

The night before I was admitted to the psych unit for the third time this fall, I spent an excruciatingly long, lonely night in the ER.  I cannot really begin to explain the level of pain I experienced that dark night.  I will suffice it to say that I was in so much emotional pain that it was beyond anything that is possible to put into words or to comprehend.  I truly felt that no one could help me anymore and that the only way I could feel peace again was to die.  I felt beyond any sort of hope, but at the same time, I knew that I had two beautiful children and a loving husband who needed me.  So I was torn.  Torn between two very painful worlds, a world of suffering and heartache and a world of peace but separation from my family who I loved so much.  I knew my family would be devastated to lose me.  I knew it would cause them so much pain, but I could not see any other option.  I couldn’t keep living in such terrible pain.  I was completely conflicted.

That night, I hardcore grieved for my family.  I pictured their devastated faces finding out that I was gone and hurt so terribly at the thought that our lives had come to the point.  I prayed that there could be some other option that could open up for me so that I didn’t have to be torn between these two worlds and could have happiness and peace with my family here again.  

For some reason that I don’t really remember, I opened up my phone and started looking at pictures.  I saw a video I had taken of my son just a few days prior of him dancing during the credits of a movie.  I started to ugly cry, gasping for air between bitter sobs.  I couldn’t miss all of these little moments.  I couldn’t bear to watch my family grow from the sidelines.  But I couldn’t keep going through such pain either.  I wanted so terribly to find a way to be okay again, while feeling that it was really completely out of reach.

Looking back on that night, it was painful, but sacred, a night spent with God, openly sharing my pain and fears and begging for just the slightest bit of hope.  Little did I know what God had in store for me in just a couple of days by sending me Charlotte.  I picture now Him hurting so terribly with me that night, while trying to whisper to me, “I’m listening.  Hold on just a little longer.  The answers to all of your prayers is coming.  You will be okay again.  You will live a happy life with your family again.  It’s coming.  I promise it’s coming.”  And it did come, all because of Charlotte, my forever angel and answer to my most heartfelt prayers.

This Christmas, I feel the deep pain of what could have been.  The pain at the possibility of my family spending this Christmas without me, my husband trying to figure out how to provide for our two kids and how to comfort them and how to give them the happy Christmas they would have desperately needed.  But instead, I get to be here with them.  I get to experience the real healing that can only come through Jesus Christ.  It will likely take several more weeks for my hormones to completely balance out, as well as several months of counseling to overcome the trauma of what I experienced, but I am here and my prayers truly are still being answered.  I don’t have to contemplate leaving or staying anymore.  My dark night is over, and I am slowly finding my peace again.

Socks

Thanks to everyone's generosity and support, we were able to donate 257 pairs of socks and encouraging messages to two different hospitals (Sacred Heart in Spokane and Kootenai Health in Coeur d'Alene) for their adult and youth inpatient psychiatric units. Thank you for helping spread light, hope, and love to the people who may need it most this Christmas. I know without a doubt that 257 lives will be blessed and uplifted by this warm gift. Also, I have big plans for this project for next year. Stay tuned for those while I take a few months to recover from this year's project 😂

#ChristmasSocksForHope

#WarmingToes

#WarmingHearts

#MentalHealthMatters

One Month

 One month since being released from the hospital and this is a little update on things:

--I've learned so much about PMDD recently. Only about 3% of women with PMDD have bothersome enough symptoms to seek help for them. 1% of those 3% have severe enough symptoms to require hospitalization. In all of her years of working with patients with PMDD, Charlotte has only seen a few patients with symptoms more severe than mine. When I met with her this last week, she said that my case is very rare, but she is confident that she can treat it. It will just take time and some experimenting to reach our perfect medication regimen. I am trying to be patient and trust Charlotte's expertise to get me there. 

--I started EMDR with my counselor yesterday, and it was extremely painful. It is incredibly difficult having to "relive" the memories of the trauma I've experienced from all these years of great struggle and to work on processing them. Most of all, it brings out the fear in me that this could happen again. I pray with all my heart that it doesn't.

--The more it soaks in that we will not be able to have any more babies because of the severity of my condition, the more my heart breaks. Sometimes it feels so unfair, and I have to fight off the bitterness that comes with our reality. I am happy for others, but my heart also aches for my own family, and trying to balance out those emotions is difficult. I've been especially sad that we had to lose two babies in the process. I still don't understand why that had to happen. I'm so thankful that I have two healthy kids who allow me to be a mom and who will forever fill the holes in my heart.

--We have experienced many happy moments as a family in the last month, and I'm so thankful. While everything isn't magically better and there are still difficult days, I cherish the chance to do things with my family and to build memories that I wasn't sure I would ever be able to build again.

--Kyle is a saint. He has done so much to help me grow and work my way back into normal life, while stepping in to do more when I'm having rough days like today. Having him is such a great blessing.

Letter To Myself

 This is a letter I wrote to myself a while back that helps me to remember all the important things when I am struggling. I thought maybe it could help someone else too. Things are definitely on the upward trend and I'm so thankful, but there are still some days that are hard. It takes 3 months for my brain and ovaries to connect with each other and for my ovaries to shut down their hormone production, so until then, I keep reading my letter and knowing that better days are always in the future, even if the present is harder some days than others. If you are struggling, keep fighting! The light always comes again! You can do it!

Dear Depressed/Anxious Shantelle,

I am writing this letter to help you remember all the things depression and anxiety attempt to steal away from you when they overpower your mind and heart. I know you probably think this is all a lie and that you've never really felt these good things before, but I promise you that you have. No, life isn’t perfect on medicine, but it’s definitely better than you can remember at this moment. I do know that. And you will get back there again. I know that too.

Remember how when you feel well, you often catch yourself smiling for no reason, just because you are happy and content with life. I know smiling is painful and forced for you now, but it’s won’t always be that way. You’ll get there again, and it will feel so good the first time your real smile comes out without you noticing or trying.

Remember how you used to lay on your back at night and purposely take a deep breath just to feel how it didn’t hurt or feel heavy or feel like a struggle. I know you feel pain with every single breath right now and that is a constant reminder that you are alive and enduring unbearable anguish, but it won’t always be this way either. Someday you will breathe relief as the heavy darkness lifts and as you remember, once again, how good life can be.

Remember that you don’t really want to die. You want relief and an escape from the excruciating pain, but you don’t really want to die. That relief will come in choosing life and enduring just a little bit longer. You will always be glad eventually that you held on and didn’t give in.

Remember that you don’t have to fight through this alone. ASK FOR HELP! Tell someone you trust how you are feeling and what you are thinking. You are loved and needed here, and people want to help you. Just like you would drop anything or would do anything you could for someone else, there are people willing to do that for you. I know it’s hard, especially when your brain tells you that you are not worth anyone’s love or time or that all you do is burden others with your darkness, but don’t believe those lies. There are people who love you and will do what they can to ease your current heavy burdens until you can get back to easing the burdens of others. You literally can’t get through this on your own. Let someone save you!

Remember your husband and kids and how much they need you. Kyle needs you as his companion and Brooklyn and Garrett need you as their mom. They would be devastated without you. Stay for them. Think of how Brooklyn’s face lights up when she wants to tell you something or how Garrett loves to snuggle in close until his whole body melts into yours or how Kyle always says that he just likes being with you, even if you aren't doing anything in particular besides being together. I know you think you are failing them and that they need someone better, but please hold on for them. Their lives would NEVER be the same without you.

If you really need more to live for, think of all the yarn you have that is waiting to become something that only you can create. Think of all the pictures of beauty yet to be captured. Think of the breathtaking mountain views, the vibrant sunsets, the perfectly delicate flowers, the mouthwatering garden-fresh produce, etc. that you would never get to experience. Think of all of that, take a deep breath, and hold on. Someday you'll be glad you did.

Remember how sweet life feels when the depression and anxiety finally wash away, how the light and peace always feel more precious following the dark, and how thankful you feel every time you realize that you won again. I know it’s so hard. My heart physically aches for you right now, because there aren’t words to make it all better, and I know that, but please try to remember and hold on. You are loved. You are needed. You are not alone. The light will come again. You can heal. You haven’t gone too far, because you’re still here. Keep breathing. Keep hoping. Keep relying on others. You can do this. I promise.

Love,

Happy Shantelle

Healing Process

 The healing process is so interesting. I know that I am healing, because my heart is feeling pain again from all that it experienced. I couldn't feel pain for a long time, because I was in the middle of trying to simply survive such a terrifying battle. Now it feels like my emotions are the water in a fire hose, except the fire hose only has a little garden hose head on it, so the pressure builds up inside until it nearly explodes out in tears. Kyle is always willing to patiently listen to my throbbing heart, and I am working hard with a counselor to overcome all of this. While I wish that the pain could somehow instantly be removed and I could feel nothing but peace, I know what a critical step this is in the healing process. It's part of coming back to life. Kyle compares it to a foot falling asleep because of lack of circulation. When you reposition and the blood flows back into the foot, it hurts like being poked with a bunch of little needles, but that's just a short time before having normal feeling back in your foot. This is the pain leading to such a long, happy life to come. And yes, we like analogies 😉

More About Our Miracle

 Lots of people have been asking me for an update on how I’m doing.  The short answer is great.  Really really great.  

For the long answer, it’s going to be long but fascinating to anyone who likes medical stuff. There’s your warning.

The second time I went to the hospital, they put me on Zoloft (an SSRI anti-depressant) and a birth control called Yaz, which is the only birth control FDA-approved to treat PMDD and is very high in progesterone.  I have been on progesterone cream, capsules, and shot before, and all of these have made things much worse.  But they insisted that was what I needed, so I tried.  I was desperate for anything to help, so I went along with it.  I tried to be hopeful that something could still help me.

The week between hospital trip #2 and #3, things got MUCH worse.  Not only was I incredibly anxious all the time, like I would wake up in a full-blown panic attack every morning and have that jumping out of my skin feeling last the entire day until I took a sleeping pill just to get to bed each night, but I also couldn’t stop crying, like I cried nearly all day every day and was so emotionally exhausted but still the tears kept coming.  I laid in bed all week, barely able to eat without feeling incredibly sick and working so hard to get just enough calories to keep me alive while I had no appetite at all.  Kyle stayed home to be with me because I could not be alone. Meanwhile my friend Casey watched my kids every single day, sometimes keeping them through the night.  To say I was debilitated was an understatement, and each day got just a little worse than the day before, until I literally couldn’t survive this any longer.  

We went back to the hospital, I met with the doctor who told me that I just had to be patient and wait for the Zoloft to work (while increasing the dose again) because there was nothing else they could do for me, and thought that was it.  I also asked about my eyes.  They had been super dilated, to the point that sometimes even in a bright room, there was hardly any color in my eye, just a huge pupil.  I knew this was not normal, but she didn’t know why this was happening and explained that it was probably just a reaction to a medication.

The next day Charlotte came and immediately stopped the birth control I had been on.  She knew that I didn’t react well to progesterone, based on the fact that I felt good emotionally during ovulation times (when there is a spike in estrogen) and during pregnancy.  She explained that Yaz is the only birth control that is FDA-approved for PMDD, because they are the only ones that have tried for that approval, giving them a monopoly in treating PMDD.  She gave me an estrogen pill to take that evening to see what would happen and how I would react to it.  She suspected that my anxiety was coming from not enough estrogen. The next morning, I woke up with no anxiety.  None.  This had not happened in weeks, maybe months.  She prescribed an estrogen-based birth control that I started that day.  We are going to stay on this for 3 months at a time with only a 3 day break in between, and I will take an estrogen supplement in the days of placebo.  This means that I won't really have those awful dips into depression when I take my break ever again.

I also told Charlotte about my dilated eyes and increased anxiety each time we raised the dose of Zoloft.  She said that dilated pupils, as well as a reaction of anxiety to increases, is a sign of too much serotonin, and she suspected that I didn’t need the Zoloft at all.  In fact, she explained how it was probably making things worse by causing my body to lower its dopamine levels (the pleasure hormone) to compensate for too much serotonin.  I was hesitant to go off the Zoloft since I had finally reached the time when it should start to help, but I could tell that Charlotte knew what she was talking about, so I trusted her and went off.  Things improved even more.

Side note: Charlotte is moving to Utah in just a couple of weeks, so the fact that I was able to meet with her before she leaves and will be able to continue working with her is incredible.

I’ll never forget the first meal when I ate everything because I was actually hungry again.  I couldn’t believe it.  I hadn’t felt the sensation of hunger, let alone the desire to eat because something tasted good, in so long.  It felt amazing.  

I’ll also never forget the first time that I laughed.  Something funny happened at the hospital, and I laughed about it.  I couldn’t believe this either.  The last time I was in the hospital, I had heard some nurses laughing and wondered how anyone could have the strength or desire to laugh.  I didn’t think I would ever reach that point again, yet here I was, and it felt great seeing just how far I had come.

This week is the first week I’ve spent by myself taking care of my kids in months, and it feels so good to be able to be a mom again, something that I really wondered if I had lost forever. 

I’m thankful for Casey taking care of my kids and loving on them for so long while I couldn’t do that myself.  I’m thankful for Kyle and all the responsibilities he willingly picked up when I couldn’t do them.  And forever I will be thankful for Charlotte, for her knowledge and years of expertise but also for her willingness to listen and to follow what my body needed.  It’s all one big miracle, and I will never forget how it has felt to watch all of it unfold.

Climbing Mountains

 We love looking at this blanket and talking about both the literal and figurative mountains we have climbed together. When I was in the hospital this last time, someone else there said that his wife was divorcing him because of his depression. I can't help but feel so thankful that Kyle is willing to put in the hard work to climb my mountains with me. We are coming back down our latest "mountain," which descent has it's own set of challenges, but we are doing it together. Always and forever. Pretty sure we are capable of handling anything now. 💪👩‍❤️‍👨😍

Our Miracle

 Few people know the extent of anguish and suffering our family has endured in the last 3 months. There have been these awful fluctuations between almost daily panic attacks to suicidal lows, near constant crying for days at a time, extreme difficulty eating and sleeping, and pure desperation for a solution to our seemingly hopeless and discouraging situation. I couldn't care for my kids, and I practically lived at the crisis center, at times, just to get by.

On my birthday, we came back to the hospital for the third time in these long 3 months. We didn't know what else to do. We felt defeated. My situation was growing worse by the day, and no one seemed to know how to help. So many prayers had been offered on my behalf, but it felt we had been abandoned by God in our darkest hour. 

I stayed a lonely night in the ER on my birthday waiting for a bed to open up in the psych unit. That night, I cried to God to please relieve my great pain that seemed could only be relieved by dying at that point and begged that I could somehow find the strength to stay just a little longer so that I could still be a wife to Kyle and a mom to Brooklyn and Garrett who I knew would be devastated to lose me.

Upon being admitted to the psych unit, the doctor I met with asked why I was there and what more I expected they could do for me. She seemed unconcerned about my explanation of the nightmare I was enduring and my desperate need for help. It was like a great big punch in my gut, when I already didn't know how I could bear this pain any longer.

And then a miracle occurred. A literal miraculous answer to SO MANY prayers. The next morning a woman named Charlotte walked into my room. This was the same doctor who I had met with at the hospital in 2019 who knew what was wrong and how to help me. She was the one who had diagnosed me with PMDD and had gotten me started on my path toward healing before.

I had asked, practically begged, to meet with her the last two times I was at the hospital but was informed that she no longer worked on that unit. But there she was, ready and eager to help me break free from my broken mind. She immediately stopped the birth control I had been put on the last time I was in the hospital, explaining that it was the worst possible birth control for my situation and would have caused the constant tears, increased anxiety and suicidal thoughts, and worsening condition all around. She began working her hormonal magic, and for the first time in so long, light began to dispel the thick darkness. My situation quickly improved, and I felt the extent of the miracle I was experiencing.

While few people know how much we have struggled, no one but us knows how much we have grown as a couple and as a family during this time. We have been stretched to our absolute limit, but we have seen the very hand of God working one step at a time to lead us to where we are now. There is lots of healing to be done, but we are finally on that path again. I'm so happy to be home and able to enjoy these snuggles again.

Home

 Home just in time for pumpkin painting and a family movie 😍

Teddy Bear

A sweet friend gave me this bear since I’ve been in the hospital. It is so soft and snuggly. I cuddle it every night when I wish I could be cuddling my family. It brings me comfort in this hard time. 

I will still be in the hospital a while longer. We are trying to adjust depression, anxiety, and hormone medications. Today was the first good day I’ve had in a while. I know things are headed in the right direction because I have an appetite back and my will to live is returning. We still need to work on getting the anxiety under control, but I have hope that will happen in time. Thank you for all the prayers and service that are being given to our family right now.

Missing My Family

I miss these cheeks pressed up next to mine. Soon enough we will be together again and my smile will be back too.

Desperate

 One week in the hospital, and I'm tired and worn down with very little hope or fight left in me. I'm desperate for a solution. Keep praying one comes soon. 

#PuffyEyes

#CantStopCrying

#DepressionSucks

Text From Kyle

 My relationship with Kyle summarized in one text. I'm far from coming home yet, but my love for Kyle grows exponentially each day. He is my greatest blessing.

Hospital Round 2

 I’m in the hospital once again. It has been a long road, and it’s not over yet. I have to quarantine in a room by myself for 4 days. I am starting a new hormone treatment and praying that will help me. I have to hold onto hope that better days are still coming for me.

Big Week

 This next week is a big week for me. On Tuesday I have hormone labs, and I'm hoping they will show what is wrong and that the treatment will help and not make things worse. And then on Friday, I begin EMDR with my counselor to overcome the trauma from everything that has happened that continues to bring so much pain to my heart. 

The truth is, I'm terrified for all of this. It's difficult to put into words exactly what I feel, but the best word I can come up with is overwhelmed. I've never hoped so desperately that something will work for me while also being so afraid to have hope at all. It makes me cry just thinking about it.

Please keep my family and me in your prayers this week. We need whatever faith anyone has to offer. Better days have to be ahead. That's what I'm holding onto.

Lessons Learned

 Five years ago this month, I began to experience drastic swings between depression and anxiety. Five long years. It seems like a lifetime some days, especially recently as I'm still fighting to find stability again. But if there are two important things I've learned in the last five years, it's this:

1) How to say "no" when needed to protect my mental health (and not feel bad about it)

2) How to ask for help

The second one comes with a little story. In July of 2017, my brain had been sick with these mood swings for 9 long, hard months. I came home from an incredibly difficult day at church and cried to Kyle, "It has been 9 months and I still don't know how to handle this." What he replied has stuck with me ever since. He said, "What do you mean you don't know how to handle it? Of course you know how to handle it. You know that you need to ask for help." My whole mindset changed that day. I realized that I didn't have to handle this sometimes debilitating sickness on my own, because I could ask for help. That was how I could get through it.

And that is precisely how I have gotten through the last five years. I've found my people and asked for help when I've needed it. And then when I've gotten back to a place of stability, I have tried to be on the giving end.

I may not be thankful for the struggles I've had with my mental health, but these two lessons feel invaluable to me, and I'm thankful to have been able to learn them.

Overcoming

 Two months ago, I fell and broke.  I still don’t really know why.  That’s the part that scares me the most.  I don’t know how it all happened, so I can’t stop it from happening again.  But now, I’m slowly rising, healing, overcoming, and hoping that everything I’m doing to get back up will allow me to stay far away from where I was before.

Sometimes I stumble on a trigger that unexpectedly takes me back to the painful memories from before I went to the hospital.  But when I feel the panic increasing as I wonder if my heart will feel that pain again, I remember all the tools I’ve picked up in the last two months that make me more capable than I was before, and the anxiety eventually subsides.

--My family and I have grown so much together.  We have learned how to fight this with each other’s help and how to better work as a team.  Kyle Avery has done more than I can possibly write out to help me and our kids get through this time.

--I am seeing an amazing new counselor who specializes in trauma and who is helping me learn how to combat anxiety and triggers.  It’s such an empowering feeling to think that I can overcome anxiety, not be a slave to it.  It’s a long process, but I’m going to get there with her guidance.

--I have anxiety and sleep medications that are helping for now.  I hope to not need them forever, but they are there to help me get by, and I am thankful.

--While in the hospital, I learned about the crisis center.  It’s like a bridge between home and the hospital.  I’ve been able to use that resource twice now, and it has helped me have a reset without having to be admitted.  

--I am surrounded by close friends who have done so much to help me and my kids when Kyle is at work.  I feel great comfort knowing that they are always there and are willing to help if I need it.  I’m not afraid to reach out to them for help or tell how I am really doing.

--I’ve figured out some high calorie options to eat or drink when I am struggling with eating.  This makes such a huge difference when I am able to give my body enough energy so that I’m not adding to the problem by not eating enough.

--Most of all, I started working with a new hormone specialist who will hopefully be able to help this problem long-term.  I have hormone labs coming up on October 12th.  I’m excited and nervous to see what she thinks my body needs to thrive.  

I'm still winning, and I will keep winning using all of these wonderful resources available to me.  Someday, I hope to be able to look back and see just how far I have come.

Where Was God?

 My biggest question in the last 42 days since going to the hospital has been "where was God?" Where was God when a most excruciating and indescribable pain seized my heart and wouldn't let go? Where was God when I cried out for relief and hope, but it seemed those prayers went unheard and unanswered? Where was God when the pain became more than any human should have to bear and continued intensifying until it threatened to take me away from my husband and kids? Where was God when I was searching for any bit of peace and there was none to be found? 

I don't have the answer to these questions, and maybe I never will, but I have to wonder if I've seen glimpses of God in the last 42 days, even though they've been far different than what I imagined or wanted. I desperately wanted God to take away the pain, but instead I think I saw Him in the form of my husband who met me along the side of the road, grabbed my numb hands, and took me to the hospital and has continued to endure this hell with me everyday since. I think I saw Him in the kind nurses and therapists at the hospital who shared their love with me and helped me find glimmers of hope in those incredibly difficult days. I'm pretty sure I've seen Him in the friends who have watched my kids and spent time with me to help me through until things get better. I have felt something of His love through the love of my bishop who has given time to help me keep my faith burning and my young women who hold such a special place in my heart. I've seen Him working through my amazing counselor and the hormone specialist and the people at the crisis center who are helping me find my peace again.

I have to admit that I don't understand why God won't take away this pain and make it all better, but I think maybe He's been here all along.

Our Anniversary

When Kyle and I were married 8 years ago, our sealer recited this poem to us.  I don’t know how he could possibly have known how much we would need this reminder about storms of darkness and beautiful light, but I do know that this poem describes with exactness what it has been like being married to Kyle.  He has re-lit my lamp more times than either of us can count.  He has been here through every episode of intense darkness and has celebrated with me in the times of light.  A lot of things feel uncertain to me right now, but I do know without a doubt that he will always be mine and hold me in his arms, and that brings me comfort and peace.  

I met a stranger in the night,

Whose lamp had ceased to shine;

I paused and let him light

His lamp from mine.

A tempest sprang up later on,

And shook the world about,

And when the wind was gone,

My lamp was out.

But back came to me the stranger—

His lamp was glowing fine;

He held the precious flame

And lighted mine.

- Lon Woodrum

One Month Later

One month since going to the hospital, and what a month it has been.  I wish more than anything I could say that we stumbled on magic and everything is better, but that is far from the truth.  I have never worked so hard to try to get better, and have subsequently never felt so much pain.  I still can't talk about what happened leading up to the hospital.  It hurts too much, and my heart is not ready to feel the emotions that accompany those memories yet.  I'm sure that day will come eventually, but for now, I am trying to get back to a good, stable place using every resource available to me and still finding myself just trying to get through a lot of days.  Many days, I cry as the grief of not being able to have another baby washes over me.  It's so heartbreaking accepting that reality.  I never ever thought any of this would be my life, and I don't know how to be okay with it yet.  I also never thought I could survive such intense, persisting pain, but somehow that is happening.  If there is one thing I know when everything else is so confusing, it's that I love my family and that love has never been stronger.  They are why I can and want to go on.