General Conference Weekend

I like these pictures of Hallie.  They are so hopeful and innocent. 

General Conference begins tomorrow.  For those of you not familiar with it.  It is a semi-annual gathering of leaders and members of our church for two whole days.  The meeting is broadcast live and anyone can watch it (go to http://www.lds.org/).  It is an opportunity to have two straight days of uplifting spiritual messages and to draw closer to our Father in Heaven.  I love General Conference.  It feels like such a fresh start.  I love great quotes and motivating reminders.  This is eight hours of that. 

General Conference is always an interesting gage of time.  It is interesting to see what happens in between April and October.  For the April 2009 General Conference I was days away from delivering Claire.  Come October of the same year, I already had a chunky five month old.  What a contrast.  This year, of course, has been the biggest change in between two conferences.  Days after last conference, we lost Chris' brother Mike.  At the same time, my Dad had an onslought of uncomfortable symptoms.  Those symptoms actually were maifestations of his gastroeintestinal system shutting down from a rare stomach cancer.  A mere two months later we were burying him too.  We've had a lot of shock and a lot of grieving.

But we have also had so much joy!  2010 has been so tumultuous but so tender.  The Lord has not abandoned us these months.  Quite the contrary -- he has carried our burdens.  We have witnessed miracles and tangibly felt his love.  So while we anticipate Conference tomorrow, I am proud.  I am proud that we had the faith to face the trials we did.  I am grateful that Jesus Christ heals as much as we are told He does.  He does!

Come What May

Oh, life! It certainly has its twists and turns. We have had some unexpected twists lately. In addition to Mike's passing, we were dealing with another plunging turn at the same time. My Dad (a.k.a. my hero) was feeling severe back pain several weeks ago. After several tests, doctors have determined he has stage IV cancer. Stage IV. I can look at the history of my life and say, unabashedly, that this should be the hardest time in my life. Undoubtedly, the news of both events are the hardest things I have ever heard (along with news of Grandpa Skaggs' cancer four years ago). But, I am going to be totally honest . . . this is not the hardest time of my life. We are sad (very sad, in fact). But we are also joyful, happy, and hopeful. We continue to enjoy life's pleasures. We giggle. We eat yummy recipes (a little too much sometimes). We watch fun movies. We tell funny stories. We reminisce. And it makes us grateful. We are happy, truly happy. Sweet friends have approached us expecting morose expressions and woeful tales. But we can't. And it's not just "glass half full Michelle." Chris is my optomistic partner on this roller coaster. I can't tell you that my heart doesn't bleed when I think of my Dad and his upcoming chemotherapy. Chris has moments where he is overcome with grief over his little brother. Despite all this, life is still beautiful and joyful. Do yourself a favor and read this article. It's life changing and encompasses my entire life philosophy. I have a nearly perfect life. It isn't charmed. It's that way because I choose it to be.

P.S. My husband literally just asked me if I ever wondered what it felt like to pee my pants. I, of course, exploded in booming laughter. And those moments are just some of what makes life fantastic.

Love and Loss

We lost our brother.
It was sudden. It was tragic. And it was gut-wrenching.
It also became healing. And peaceful. And binding.
It's still hard to imagine we won't see him again in this life.
But we know we will see him in the next.
Here are pictures to remember one of the hardest days of life so far.
But it is still something to be remembered.

perspective

If I feel this busy with only two kids and a job where I stay at home, I can't imagine what the future holds! Keeping the house clean, feeding people, and keeping the girls and myself somewhat presentable sweeps up so much time. I have been making time to read my scriptures and inspirational books/magazines again (Ensign, old conference talks, self-help/parenting books). This makes me feel loads better. Although, I haven't had much time for literature lately and I could really use some excercise time. I'll figure it out someday and though I will never be able to do it all, I will be able to do more! I need to blog more because this is the main way I am recording my daughters' lives and they are both growing up too fast! Whew!

Has anyone else been feeling overwhelmed lately? The other day, I was able to stop and take pictures of things around my house that I am thankful for. It was great because my heart was filled with love at even the most basic items. It was a great exercise in perspective. Try it! I know if I had more time, I could take a hundred more pictures.

recovering

Hello! I'm just recovering-- from vacation and my medical surprise while we were away. Last Thursday night, as I was preparing for our trip, I had terrible pain in my lower abdomen. But it went away within an hour and I didn't think about it again. Until Monday night! I had just taken care of Claire at midnight when I felt the extreme pain again. I immediately took ibuprofen because the pain was so severe. Twenty minutes later, I was throwing up in the toilet. You know how when you are sick enough, vomiting seems okay because at least you feel a little better afterward? Unfortunately, that was not the case this time. The pain was extreme and just unrelenting. I tried to sleep it off a little but by five a.m. I knew that we needed to go to the hospital. Something was terribly wrong. I was frightened to leave and wished that my Mom could come with Chris and I but we needed her home to watch our girls. Chris acted calm and was sweet and assuring as he drove me to the hospital. Just waiting in the emergency room while he filled out paperwork was excruciating. They wheeled me into a triage room and asked me standard questions about my medical history and pain. They asked me how many pregnancies I had and how many were full term. I answered "two" for both. One of the tests they needed me to do was a urine sample. Just sitting up was too much for me and I vomited again from the pain.

Minutes later they informed me that I tested "positive" for an initial pregnancy test. I told Chris it meant I had an ectopic pregnancy and that we wouldn't be able to have this baby. I knew this because two women I had known had this happen and my Mom even mentioned this could be an option while I was in pain at home. After blood test and ultrasound confirmed it, an obstetrician performed emergency surgery.

It hurt worse than delivery and recovery of both my babies. It was like transition labor with Hallie except that in that case it was just contractions. This was just endless pain and pressure and vomiting. There was a lot of pain throughout the entire experience but it is amazing what our bodies can handle. I had a lot of blood loss but the wonderful news is that nothing was damaged and I am recovering well. So, there went over half our vacation and I am sure we will see big dollar signs in medical bills. Yet despite that, Chris and I are humbled by modern medicine. This is something that would have killed me if I lived one hundred years ago. I am thankful for my family and friends who took care of me and for my husband who is so strong. Even as they delivered the news, I was thankful just to know what was going on. Throughout the entire process, I felt strongly that going through this painful process can help me be sympathetic in the future to others who experience something similar.

My Great Treasure

Would you like to see one of my most treasured pictures of all?



This is Grandma and Grandpa Skaggs with two-week-old baby Hallie.

In early 2006, doctors discovered a large tumor in my grandfather's bladder. In June of that year, he went in to have the tumor removed. After several hours, the doctors reported that Grandpa was recovering but that they did not remove the tumor. It was too large and it would have been unsafe. When my Mom gave me that phone call my life changed forever. I knew it meant Grandpa's time on earth was very limited. I can recall vividly the grief I felt that day. I remember what it felt like to be six months pregnant and to ball up in a fetal position on the couch just sobbing. It was one of the hardest days of my life.

One week later, I flew from Idaho to California and visited Grandpa who was recovering from surgery in the hospital. The things I most remember from that visit are 1.) how many times he told me I looked beautiful, 2.) how many times he asked other people "Doesn't Michelle look beautiful?" 3.) How proud he was that I was awarded a full-paid scholarship for my last semester of college 4.) How he asked other people if they had heard about my scholarship 5.) his frail shoulders under his hospital gown 6.) and what an honor it was to spoon ice chips into his mouth.

The summer progressed and so did my pregnancy. I couldn't attend our family reunion that August because I was too pregnant to travel that far. On September 21, our little Hallie was born. The following day was the last day my Grandpa climbed the stairs in his home. He made the journey upstairs to add Hallie Laine's name to our family history files. My parents informed me that his health was rapidly declining and encouraged me to visit when possible. At first, we were planning to come down for Thanksgiving. But Chris and I felt strongly that we needed to fly home right away. That was one of the best decisions we've ever made. Hallie was just two weeks old when she took her first plane ride.

The treasured picture is from Hallie's baby blessing. Our family gathered in my grandparent's living room. In a standard baby blessing, men stand in a circle and hold the baby. But in this case, dining room chairs were placed in a circle and the men sat to accommodate Grandpa in his wheel chair.

The last day I saw my grandfather was that Monday. We chatted in the living room as he sat as comfortably as possible in a wing back chair. After a time, he grew weary and retired to the bedroom. I didn't know if he would sleep right away and I didn't know if I could see him before he left, so I stood up and gave him a quick hug. As I pulled away from the hug I could tell he was in pain. The cancer by that time was deep in his leg bone. Yet he didn't utter a word of complaint and did everything to hide it from his face.

Several minutes later, when Grandpa was settled in his bed, he called for our little family. Chris and I scooted into the room with Hallie in her infant seat. We spent twenty minutes engaging in the most beautiful dialogue. I told Grandpa that he was one of my best friends. I told him I would miss him for my entire life. I told him what an honor it was to grow up so close to him and to sit next to him in church and hold his hand. He told me that he wished Grandma was in the room to hear all those beautiful things because they were even more beautiful when shared with a spouse. I told him how thankful I was that he wrote such a beautifully detailed autobiography-- that some nights I stayed up late reading it because it was like I could hear his voice across the miles. He told me how much he loved me and how proud he was of me and he said beautiful things about Chris. He loved Chris. I kissed him and hugged him continuously. I left the room feeling refreshed. I knew it was the last time I would see him. And even though it was much too soon, I had closure. He was still lucid and bright, loving and dignified. And he stayed that way until the last breath.

Several weeks later, I called him on a Thursday night. His voice was cracked and hoarse. But I got to tell him I loved him and how much I loved being a mother. And he told me he loved me. Friday night he drifted into an unconscious state and on Sunday morning we received the call. That was three years ago yesterday.

When we received Hallie's first birthday card from Grandma Skaggs it said "Happy Birthday Hallie! I am so happy Grandpa got to meet you!" I cried with both sadness and joy.

And here we are three years later. At first, I would think of him and cry. It wasn't just tender-- it was a gaping, aching wound kind of tender. Now, I still feel sadness but it is much easier. More than any other feeling, I feel gratitude. How was I so lucky to be born in to such a family? How was I so privileged to get such wonderful grandparents? How was I so lucky to have them at every high school performance? How was I so lucky to get a good farewell with him-- to say everything I needed to say? How am I so blessed to know that he will be my grandfather forever and that I will see him again someday. What a gift.

Hallie just saw me crying and asked what's wrong. I told her I was thinking of my grandpa. She gently stroked my arm and said in a slow, tender way "Oh Mom, do you miss your grandpa?" Grandpa would have loved that.

Where we've been and what we've been up to

Have you heard about that little "piggy" pandemic? It came to stay at our home and gave Chris a fever for nine days. Yes, my poor husband, the man who washes his hands ten times a day and holds his breath when he hears a sneeze or cough, was stricken with the dreaded H1N1 virus. He started coughing Friday, October 9. Then the fever came on Saturday, October 10 and didn't leave until Monday the 19th. Poor, poor Chris. We worked so hard to keep him isolated in our bedroom. It was a lonely, achy existence over that week. Chris was lucky if he ate a slice of toast per day. He did consume lots of water, peppermint tea, and orange juice though. He slept more than he has since he was five months old and watched some favorite movies on our portable DVD player. Hallie and I got upper respiratory infections so we spent our time coughing and sneezing. I scrubbed the house and took care of my kids with a surgical mask and gloves on for several days. I was too busy to watch any news or go online. We did watch plenty of movies (cartoon ones) to get us through the long days.

Between all the trips up and down the stairs to check on the sick boy and all day with the girls with no reprieve, I was exhausted every night. I couldn't believe how hard it was to take care of my children with no help in the evening. I was dumbfounded by what single moms have to do. Two of my closest friends are single moms and all I could think was how they do this every single day. I also thought about all the military wives who do that while their husbands are away serving our country-- wow! It illustrates how much work Chris does around our home. He holds babies, changes diapers, entertains, snuggles, and encourages. He is the best partner and it was lonely without him to help me, talk to me, and laugh with me.

We experienced great blessings during this time. Three days into Chris' flu I had all the symptoms, my chest was tight and I was coughing continuously, my muscles and bones were aching, and my temperature was quickly rising. I knew I could not, would not let myself get the flu too. I couldn't imagine nursing an infant every three hours while I had influenza. I sat in bed and decided it just wouldn't happen, I would fight it. And somehow, I knew that because I made up my mind and I asked, I wouldn't have to endure it. Chris offered a blessing that I would not have any more symptoms and that the girls would not contract the virus. By the end of the day, my fever was down and the acheness had subsided. It was a miracle. You would have to be in my body to know how it felt. But I know that one morning I had the flu and the next morning I didn't. And it never touched my little girls.

Halfway through his illness, Chris walked into the garage for something and a squirrel surprised him. Chris had to coax him out from under the lawn mower and send him down the driveway. I kept thinking about two things-- National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (where a squirrel crashes the Griswold Family Christmas Eve) and whether or not Chris could give swine flu to a squirrel.

My mother-in-law is a nurse and was a lifesaver. Two days in a row she dropped off delicious dinners at our doorstep. Her packages had simmered soups, warm breads, roasted chicken, replenishing juices-- it was like manna from heaven. She even added thoughtful extras like candy corn, a cooking magazine, surgical masks and gloves, and hospital-duty cleaning wipes. What an angel.

Chris returned to work Tuesday. He is still very tired but is feeling better every day. Except for lingering coughs, Hallie and I are recovered. Little Claire got through the entire incident unscathed. Now, we just have to catch up on laundry. And I'll post pictures on our blog. So, that my friends, is where we've been and what we've been up to.

Missing him

On June 25, 1927 my Grandpa Skaggs was born.
On October 29, 2006 he left this world.
I miss him everyday.

Happy Birthday Grandpa! I love you always!