Mother's Day

I thought mother's day would be hard. I woke up feeling a little sorry for myself that I wasn't able to have all of my children here with me. But as Craig went downstairs to make some breakfast, my sweet kids climbed in bed with me, and as I layed there snuggling with them, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for my Savior and his perfect plan. I smiled at the fact that my children are mine, forever, all of them. Even though I am missing Mason now, I know I am still his mother and  I will have the chance to be with him again someday.

Finished project and a new picture.

I finally finished a project I had beed procrastinating for awhile. It's hard to tell from the pictures, but that is a shadow box and those are the flowers from Mason's casket, a program from the graveside service, and a picture of the casket. I was so nervous to make this because I didn't want to ruin the flowers. They are so delicate, I knew I only had one chance to get it right. I am so happy with how it turned out.

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to share my testimony at a women's conference that our stake relief society put on. It was a great experience, but I am glad it is over! I tend to forget everything I have plannned to say when I get up in front of people, so this was a very prepared testimony. :) And just for journaling purposes, here is what I said...

There is a part that is reffering to a picture, this one. My family gave me this picture and I love it so much!

(The artist is Simon Dewey)

Hello Sisters. I am so grateful for this opportunity to share my testimony with you.  I was so excited when I heard the theme of this conference, “In the strength of the Lord, I can do hard things!” This saying has been a part of my life for many years.  I grew up under very unusual circumstances. I am the second oldest in a family of ten children. When I was 6 or 7, due to some financial difficulties, our family had to leave our home, and with nowhere to go, five kids, and one on the way, my parents decided to move temporarily into my grandparent’s barn.  The barn was being used to store hay, and all the animal feed, and as a tool shed. It consisted of four cinder block walls, two large steel roll up doors, cement floors, and one toilet in the back corner sitting out in the open. We moved in the middle of summer, and it was hot. My parents did the best they could to help make these circumstances better for us all.  I remember many nights laying on the floor on our camping pad beds with all my brothers and sisters after my dad had said “goodnight everyone” and flipped the one switch that controlled all the lights in the house, then listening to mice scurrying around with the occasional snap, letting us know that there would be one less mouse running around our beds that night. Through all of this, I never remember a time in my life when my parents didn’t wake us up in the morning for family scripture study, and we always had family prayer and family home evening. When I was about 13, I remember my mom giving a family home evening lesson on doing hard things. She taught us that the Lord has put us here on earth to test us and strengthen us and that throughout our life we would be faced with many trials and “hard things.” Every morning as we were leaving for school in the mad rush of things, you could always hear my mom saying “have a great day, I love you, and remember you can day hard things! “ To which we would almost always reply in a very sarcastic tone, “okay mom, we know, you’ve said it a thousand times.” We were young and naïve and didn’t know how important that advice was. You would not believe the “barn” if you saw it today.  It has been twenty years and my parents still live there. It has been completely transformed into a rather unique house with the majority of the work being done by my parents and their ten workers, I mean kids. I learned the value of hard work, and in my young mind, I could do hard things.  Life moved on, I grew up, got married, left the barn, and started a family with my husband.  Just this last July I found myself lying in hospital bed, waiting to deliver my third child who I had been carrying for nine months, and had just found out that I would not be meeting him that day, he had already returned to live with our Heavenly Father.  When my mom came to the hospital, she hugged me, and we cried, she told me that she was so sorry this was happening to me, and then she whispered to me, “You can do hard things.” The only response I had at the time was “I know I can, but I don’t want to.”  That’s usually the case with hard things, they’re not things we want to do, or things we ever thought could happen to us, but they do happen, and we are expected to endure these hard things even though sometimes it may seem impossible. That is where the Lord comes in. In the weeks and months after we lost our son, I relied on the Savior more than I ever had in my entire life. I felt as though He was the only one who really understood how I felt. Many times in my life I have heard that life is not fair. I’m not proud to admit it, but there were many times I thought to myself, this is not fair. I was watching other women with their babies, longing for mine and thinking it just wasn’t fair. It took me many weeks and lots of prayer to realize, yeah, life isn’t fair, and we wouldn’t want it to be. Heavenly Father and our Savoir know each of us individually, they love us, and they know exactly what trials and experiences we need to face in order to become the very best version of ourselves. I have learned so much from this experience, things I never thought I needed to learn. I learned to be a better friend, and how to serve selflessly through the example of all the women who served me. I gained a deeper love of the temple and a new appreciation for the temple covenants I had made when I was sealed to my husband for time and all eternity. President Hinckley said,” where is Heaven, it’s not very far, when you are in the temple, it is right where you are.” Every time I visit the temple I am able to feel the love of my Savior, I am reminded of his wonderful plan, and He reminds me that everything will be ok if I put my trust in Him. I feel the closeness of Heaven, I feel the sweet spirit of my baby, and  I know he is there, and I know I will meet him someday.  I know there are many women listening that have suffered similar experiences to mine, and women, who have lost children at every different stage of pregnancy, and women who suffer with not being able to get pregnant, and women who have lost their precious children. These are all hard things. It is very comforting for me to look at this beautiful picture and to think of all these children in the loving care of our Savior. He is taking good care of them, and He needs them just a little bit longer. He has a plan for all us and for them. The Savior came to earth and suffered for our sins so we would not have to suffer these hard things by ourselves. We can use his strength to endure anything that is placed in our paths on our journey home. With the Lord’s strength, I know I can do hard things, and you can too. And I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Mason's Story Part Two


It's been quite awhile since I posted the begining part of this story. I have sat down to continue writting the rest of the story many times, but haven't been able to go through with it. I know it's going to bring back a lot of emotions that I have been pushing away. Today I couldn't get it off my mind, and  I know it's time, so here goes...


The weekend we found out we lost Mason, started out just like any other weekend. We celebrated a friends birthday Friday night at F1 Race factory. We were there with the Siddoways and the Bucks. I sat out from driving the race carts because I was 9 months pregnant. Everyone had a great time racing, and afterwards we went to dinner at Red Robin with the Bucks. Dinner was great, I remember ordering a frozen strawberry lemonade and Mason kicking around like crazy as I drank it. Later I would realize that that was the last time I ever would feel him move. After dinner we headed back to our house with the Bucks and played card games until it was way too late, but we were having so much fun! Saturday we spent at home all day as a family. It was the first Saturday Craig had been home in weeks and I was determined to get things ready for the babies arrival. We spent most of the day cleaning, and I had every intention to get out all the baby clothes and wash them and hang them in the closet, and get the basinet out and set up my room for the baby, but I never seemed to get to it, I was always distracted with other projects. Before I knew it, the day had ended. We had plans that night to go to a party at the Bucks house, again for Adam's Birthday. I am a major ice cruncher when I am pregnant, so we loaded up the kids, I filled up a huge cup with ice, and we headed to the Bucks. At the party I was sitting in a chair in the family room talking to my friend Jackie Lee about births. I had Brogan naturally,and she has had all three of her boys naturally so we were talking about my plans for this baby. As I was sitting there talking, I was eating away at my cup of ice. I remember thinking to myself,  "that's strange, normally the baby is moving around like crazy when I eat ice." but there was nothing. I didn't think too much of it, there had been plenty of times when I didn't fell him move for hours. A few hours had past, we had put our kids to bed at the Bucks and we were now playing some cards. I was sitting at the table eating a new cup of ice when I realized he still wasn't moving. Now I was concerned. I sat there for a minute poking my stomach seeing if  I could get him to move, nothing. I didn't want to make a big scene, so I pulled Craig aside, told him what was going on, and that  I was going to go home for a few minutes and try a few things. When I got home I  filled up a cup with ice cold soda drank it and laid on my side. Earlier in the pregnancy I had a similar scare, but as soon as I drank some soda, the baby was moving within seconds. This time there was still no movement. I laid on my back, on my side, ate more ice, nothing worked.  I headed back over to the Buck's and told Craig I was thinking of going to the hospital. I called the hospital, told them what was going on and they said I should come down as soon as possible. On the way over, our conversation in the car was very lighthearted. we had been through this once before with Talia, I couldn't feel her moving for hours so I came down to the hostpital and everything ended up being fine, she just didn't want to move!  I don't think either of us were to worried and kept making comments like " I hope they don't keep us here too long." When we entered the hospital and got in the elevator, the first wave of fear came over me, I remember thinking to my self, "what if I have to have the baby now, I 'm not even ready, or even worse what if  I have to have an emergency c-section." In my mind that was the worst thing that could have happened. I never thought for one second that I had lost my baby.


The hospital was pretty empty, so we were addmitted very quickly. After I had changed into the gown,our nurse came over to put the heart monitor on. As soon as she turned it on we heard a very fast, quiet heartbeat. I felt  immediate relief, and then felt silly for coming down to the hospital. I looked at Craig and smiled and knew he felt the same relief. The nurse was still adjusting the heart monitor because the heartbeat was so quiet. Her expression and body language were telling us that everything was not ok, like we had thought. She adjusted the heart monitor for a few more seconds and then said "honey, are you ok?" I said "no, I'm feeling very nervous and scared." She said "that is why your heart rate is at 120." Then she turned off the heart monitor and said she would be right back, she was going to order an ultrasound. At the time, I hadn't yet realized what was going on, but looking back, I should have known. They never have a problem finding the heartbeat when you are 38 weeks pregnant, and they certainly don't need an ultrasound machine. A minute later our nurse returned with another doctor, and an ultrasound machine. My nurse and Craig were standing on my right, my nusrse holding my hand, and rubbing my arm, she already knew. Craig was standing next to me both hands on my legs, anxiously watching the screen as the doctor performed the ultrasound. The screen looked to me like a black and white blur, with no movement. Craig said okay doc, your gonna let us know as soon as you see something. The doctor was silent. I just remember seeing him shake his head. Without a word and in a matter of seconds he finished the ultrasound and wheeled the machine out. I felt like I couldn't breath. Another doctor entered the room and said words that I know I will never forget for the rest of my life. I can still hear her voice in my head. "I am so sorry, but your baby has expired. There was no heartbeat. This is the hardest thing we have to deal with." She went on to tell me thet at this time they don't know what happened, and that we may never know what happened. She was a very sweet lady, and was handling the situation as best as she could. I was in complete shock. Tears came immediatly followed by sobs and screams. I heard Craig say " this must be a mistake, she was just at the doctor, and everything was fine." He was demanding to know what happened and all they could tell him was that we may never know.  I was still laying in the hospital bed struggling to breath, and crying harder than I had ever cried in my life. Craig was hugging me telling me it ws gonna be okay, but I didn't believe him. Within minutes,  a room was ready for us, and  I was being wheeled down the hall, while Craig was calling our families.

I have had a lot of very sweet conversations with Talia, I was reminded of this one today.

A couple weeks after we lost Mason, I was sitting on the couch with Talia and she said, "Mom, is Mason all alone up in heaven?" I immediately reassured her, "No honey, there are lots of people up there with him, he is very happy." I could tell she wasn't convinced, and then she asked, "But who is there to take care of him?" I now understood why she was asking. She knew Mason as a baby, and she knows babies need to be taken care of. I knew she wouldn't understand if I tried to explain that his spirit wasn't a baby, so I thought for a minute and then decided to tell he about her Grandma Great. (that's what we call our great grandparents)  I told her about my Grandma Clouse that she never got to meet, she died when I was fifteen. I told her that Grandma Clouse loved her grandkids more than anything and that she was taking good care of our baby Mason. Then we looked at pictures, and then we both felt better.

October 18, 2010
It has been 3 months. The longest 3 months of my life. It feels like years since the last time I got to hold Mason and see him. Emotionally, it feels like it's only been three months. I recently found out that October 15th is a day that is recognized by our country as a day of remembrance for all miscarriages and all still born children. I thought it would be a hard day, but it wasn't. I kept thinking about all the thousands of babies that have been stillborn and how special thay are. They didn't need a test, they just needed a body. I felt proud that Mason was among them. Of course we still miss him everyday, and if we had a choice we would want him here with us, but the reality of it is, we don't have a choice, so we are trying to make the best of it. On Friday (the 15th) I had a friend show up at my door with flowers and a card. Later that day I received another card from a cousin just letting us know that they are still thinking about us and praying for us. Neither of these peole knew that it was a special day. I am so greatful for such wonderful people in my life.

The Balloon

My kids, like most others, love balloons. So when Craig showed up on Friday with a bunch of bright colored mylar balloons the kids were ecstatic to say the least. They have been entertained for hours by these things, holding them in front of the fan so they go crazy, and jumping off the beds while trying to grab the strings in mid air. Talia especially loves the balloons. She gives them names, brings them in her room when she goes to bed, and of course they have to go everywhere she goes. When we went to the grandparents house for dinner Sunday night, we let her choose a few to bring along. Talia loves all the balloons, but there was one particular one she loved the most. The kitty balloon. She managed to take good care of the kitty balloon while we were at my parents house. After we had eaten dinner we decided to head over to Craig's parents house. Talia held on tight to here balloon the whole 2 minute drive. As we pulled in the driveway and turned off the car, the kids were anxious to get inside. I'm not even sure exactly how it happened, but Talia had opened the door on her side, and then let go of the balloon to unbuckle her car seat. I got out of the car just in time to see her kitty balloon sneak out the door and start floating away. I jumped for it, but it was too late.  I looked down at Talia who was now frantically trying to unbuckle herself, and the look on her face said it all. I pulled her out of the car and held her as she screamed "balloon. balloon," over and over. I wanted more than anything to be able to fly up and get that balloon that she loved so much and bring it back for her, but there was nothing I could do. I just held her and we both cried as we watched her precious balloon float away into the sky. We had to let it go. It was hard for me to explain to her that there was nothing we could do, I didn't think she would understand, but she did. She stopped screaming, and watched as it floated away.  I knew how she felt. I had something taken from me that I loved very much, and no matter how much I wanted it,  I wasn't going to get it back. I had to let it go. Talia and I stood on the driveway crying for a few more minutes, Craig came over, he knew exactly why I was crying , I didn't have to say a word. he just hugged me and let me cry.

I always loved when people would send balloons up into the sky with prayers and messages of hope, but it has so much more meaning to me now. Standing there on the driveway watching that balloon float away helped me realize that sometimes we have no control over our situations, we just have to let it be, trust in the Lord, and know that it will all be okay in the end.

Sundays are hard...

There are a few reasons why Sundays seem to be particularly difficult. First of all, Mason was born on a Sunday, so every Sunday that passes marks another week that he has been gone.  It's been 10 weeks. Sundays are also hard because of church, our ward is a very young ward, almost everyone has young children, and there are lots of little babies, it is a bitter reminder of what I am missing. Church is also hard because of the spirituality of it. No matter what subject is being taught, it all reminds me of Mason. Some feelings are happy, but it is still hard to to have to feel them.

Even though every Sunday in the past had been difficult,  I woke up this morning determined not to let this day drag me down. I used to love Sundays, and  I wanted to feel that way again. So I woke up, got dressed, got my family ready, put a smile on my face, and drove to church. We arrived ten minutes early which is a miracle for us. As we were walking in, a saw a family I didn't recognize, and I thought to myself, yay! a new family in the ward. It was only a matter of seconds before I realized it wasn't a new family, they were just visiting. Walking next to them was a sister in our ward, holding her little baby, all dressed in white. It was fast Sunday, babies are blessed on fast Sunday. Three babies were blessed in our ward today, it could have been four. I really wanted to be happy for the families, I did, but I was feeling a little left out. I wanted all of my family to be there with me just like the other families were there. I wanted my baby to be all dressed in white about to receive a blessing from his father. I sat there feeling especially sorry for myself as the tears rolled down my face. This was not the day I was expecting. It was probably one of the hardest days I have faced since we lost Mason. I am grateful I didn't realize what was going to happen at church today before we got there, because  I may have not gone, but as hard as it was,  it was something I needed to go through. It's times like that when I feel that the pain is more than I can bear, is when I feel my Heavenly Father's love for me the most. I felt the spirit so strongly, whispering to me that it was all going to be ok, and that my turn would come. I know I will get to enjoy all of these things with Mason some day. 

It was hard to not have our baby there to share his special blessing day with everyone, but a babies blessing is one thing we did get to experience with Mason. Shortly after I had him, while we were still in the hospital with many of our family and friends there, Craig gave Mason a name and a blessing.  It was the most beautiful blessing I have ever heard. I remember Craig standing right next to my bed holding Mason in his arms. He paused for a minute before he started the blessing, I imagine gathering his thoughts and receiving inspiration for the blessing.  It was in that moment that my testimony of the priesthood was strengthened so much. I knew Heavenly Father was guiding him to say the things he needed to say, and the spirit was so powerful in the room, it was the first time since we heard the awful news that I felt peace, and a small understanding. We often refer to Mason as "our little buddy," this blessing is where he was first called that. Craig kept calling him "our little buddy," so that is really special to us. This blessing is very personal so I won't share too much of it, but  I do remember Craig telling Mason to go about his father's business, and to not worry about us, and to know that we will be doing everything we can to make sure we make it back to live with him so we could all be together as a family. He told Mason how much he was loved by his family. He is. I cannot wait for the day when I get to tell him that myself, but until then you better believe I will be doing everything possible to live worthy so we can all be together again.