Content

Sometimes things happen in life that make us really wonder...why. And we are given the opportunity to contemplate what that answer might be because it isn't written on the wall or in the stars or anywhere in plain sight. Sometimes in that moment of pondering, the answer that comes is this: there is no why. At least not right now.  And while that is hard to accept, sometimes having an answer is even harder because we take responsibility rather harshly. And whether or not we can answer that why question, the important thing is that we trust that God can and will when the time is right. Meanwhile, answer-less, confused, and even distraught one of the best remedies (besides good music, laughter, movement...) is the classic practice of counting our blessings and finding contentment. Because it is there if you look for it. It is all around when we just open our eyes.

When we make the choice to be content, we see what we have, not what we lack. We feel alive and in the moment, not trapped by another dead end. In short, when we choose contentment, we feel happy.

I want to feel happy, so I'm making that choice.

How about you?

A New Perfect

Several weeks ago, two strangers knocked on my door. No, they weren't Jehovah's Witnesses or LDS missionaries. Many of you have probably met them/heard of them/read about them by now. They first asked if I wouldn't mind taking a brief survey, to which I agreed, and then asked if I had ever heard of "Be Ye Perfect" and if so where. "I have..." I answered, trying to place the slogan in my day-to-day events (besides scripture, obviously). Finally, I remembered seeing ads on facebook. They seemed interested and pleased to hear that.

Our visit was brief, as they had intended, and they left promptly when Paul appeared in the doorway behind me. Something greatly bothered me about their visit and I continued to reflect on it for days after. The basic premise of their church (organization, whatever it is) is that we are already perfect! That because of Jesus Christ, we do not need to do anything and that we are not just saved, but perfected. Hmmmm. Sounds easy. I clarified that they weren't saying we could all just run a muck and do whatever we wanted, but they believe that "out of gratitude," we do good things to thank Jesus for doing all the work for us. Yikes.

I do believe in perfection. You bet I do. But not in this lifetime. And I believe that Jesus surely has paid the price for that beautiful perfection, but not as a one-sided bargain. How foolish it would truly be to believe He left NOTHING for us to do but live gratefully. And gratitude is huge. Perfection is a huge idea too, and something that I haven't seen yet in this fractured world.

That being said, I look forward to perfection. I imagine it would go something like this:

I wake up in the morning on a sunny day at the peak of restfulness, no longer tired, but beautifully rejuvenated. I easily make and eat an amazing breakfast that is healthy and delicious, classically presented and quickly cleaned up. I leave my spotless kitchen to breeze through a gorgeous home and find my sleeping child(ren) - the number is irrelevant - as many as I can possibly have, just peeking little eyelids open to smile at me. I go about my day in a state of total calmness, never stressing, perpetually happy, effortlessly completing all tasks I have set aside for the day and speaking loving and thoughtful words to all I meet. I am impeccably clean and beautiful and my perfectly-fitted clothes feel like a second skin as I move in a toned and flexible body. I have no need for makeup since everything looks better au naturale...

You get the idea. Perfection - no pain, problems, strife, anxiety, mess-ups, bad weather, gross food, rushing, snapping, complaining, spills, torn fingernails and so forth. Just beautiful perfection. But this life is not about perfection. Not yet. Perfection, contrary to what these proclaimers believe, is earned. There is only one Way we can all become perfect and that is through (a) believing in and accepting the atonement of Jesus Christ and (b) following His perfect example, studying and applying His teachings, and living the standard He has set: repentance, faith, baptism...

Perfection is a beautiful doctrine and I am so grateful we each have the opportunity to strive toward it as we learn patience, humility, obedience, sacrifice, love, self-restraint and all of the other qualities emulated by our perfect Savior.

In the meantime, I think we can enjoy a new kind of perfect. A perfection that arises from deep gratitude for the way things are and contentment with ourselves and our mortal surroundings. Bad weather is perfect, because a glum day now and then helps us appreciate lovely weather. Pain is a positive thing when it humbles us or helps us learn patience. Disappointment is erased when we work to create something better and learn to overcome circumstances.  When we realize that life is perfect for all that we need right now, that we are not perfect but are striving for it, this life can become more meaningful. More rewarding. And more of what we came here to learn. None of us are perfect yet, but out of gratitude, we can do those things that over a lifetime will add up gradually as we become more like Jesus.

May we all remember this Christmas that it is Jesus Christ who made perfection possible, and do our best to become more like Him each day, meanwhile enjoying this beautiful mortal existence He created for us.

Merry Christmas!!!

We're still alive!

Hey all, I have been meaning, wanting, planning, etc. to write some kind of update for quite some time, but my, it has been busy lately! As in, since my last post, (August? how long ago...) a lot has happened. We moved for the SECOND time since Hannah's birth, celebrated her first birthday (more to come later) and Paul started a new job. It has been insanely busy but happy and fulfilling. I am still loving bein' a mama to our girl. Life is good, we hope it is for all of you, we are THANKFUL during this season for the blessings we enjoy in our family and hope the best for all of you...

Tonight was Red Lobster

Paul and I have been dreaming of seafood for a while now but waiting for the right opportunity to come up. Our busy anniversary came and went with a lot of wonderful things (and heavenly malts) but it wasn't the right time for a sit-down meal so we saved that for another time. Today was it.

Paul worked a loooooong shift today and came home starving. I, as usual, forgot to eat and hadn't had anything since breakfast when we headed out at 4 o'clock. Mercy, I was hungry! As usual when your tummy overtakes your brain, our conversations kept turning to food which made the wait for our table less endurable than usual. Hannah, however, was happy looking at the lobsters behind the glass and making friends with the man who sat beside me. I was shocked to find out that this youngish looking father was also a GRANDFATHER and a GREAT-GRANDFATHER!! I wanted to know his secret... He was really playful with Hannah and she loved the attention. Around the time that Paul told me his stomach was eating itself (as was mine...) our table was finally called.

Our cute waitress (five months pregnant though you really couldn't tell) seated us right next to a huge aquarium. That was very helpful for Hannah although she seemed more interested with the plastic fish on either side. It was funny watching her go crazy for those. I, however, really liked watching the beautiful bright blue fish as they swam back and forth. Fish have such a calming effect and are very soothing to watch. I think Red Lobster has created a great atmosphere and was impressed again with their decor. What a fun place.

Hannah was ready for a nap (this week was Education Week at BYU, so our routine is completely off) but as we were thinking with our stomachs when we left, we thought this would be a quick trip. Right. Saturday night at a popular restaurant = long wait. long wait. long wait. Really though, it wasn't that bad. It wasn't until our food came that she really started getting antsy. We kept her happy with french fries and soda crackers until I finally slipped out the the car to feed her. This baby really loves to nurse. But she was mostly tired and that wasn't the fix. So we asked for boxes and got ready to go. I was able to clean off the coconut shrimp & pina colada sauce that Paul couldn't finish (yes, I totally out-ate my husband) and still ordered dessert to go. I couldn't get over how heavenly the shrimp was. Mmmmm. I can still taste it. And that, was eating out with a busy 9-month old baby. Not easy, not bad, entertaining and exhausting, but so fun. I love being a mama. And I love that being a mama can still include dates with a hot guy & yummy seafood.

Happy Weekend!!!

Nurse-Maid's Elbow

A week (and just a few hours) ago, Hannah made her first appearance in the ER. Luckily for her mama, it was a fairly minor injury that did not include BLOOD of any kind (internal/external....I'm not talking different kinds of blood...) I am thankful for that little mercy. But it was still traumatic in the moment and I nearly cried hot tears with my daughter all the way to the hospital and back (grateful ones the second time around). She had a slight dislocation titled Nurse Maid's Elbow that is very common in babies & toddlers. It was caused when someone accidentally pulled too hard on her arm while picking her up. The awesome doctor who fixed her **in about ten seconds flat** emphasized that it was a common accident, but this only slightly eased my self-blame (I wasn't the one who did it - I am just a guilt-ridden mother) as I still felt I should have prevented it. 

Even a week later, I swell with gratitude re-telling the story as I am thankful it wasn't worse. God is kind and He truly blessed us that night.

This is my awesome brother Jacob who was my rock during the ordeal. Paul had a graveyard shift that night and missed out on the whole experience (thank you Shealee for lending him to me!)

I have never felt so blessed and dare I say, spoiled? at the hospital. It was a strangely QUIET evening and we were ushered right in without a wait. Neither my brother or I have ever seen the waiting room so empty. I am counting my blessings. And thanking Dr. Jemmett and our stellar nurse Lori. And a loving Father in Heaven.

As Ma Ingalls always said, "All's well that ends well."

Ben

Today was one of those Mondays. I couldn't seem to figure out why it was s-t-r-u-g-g-l-i-n-g along, but we both just kind of existed today. Nothing super productive got done (except keeping my most important priority alive and *mostly* happy....it was a hard day). Hannah was fussy for no apparent reason and needed to be held (she always does, but even more than always) and Paul is out of town. Maybe the two are related. She sure adores her daddy and lit up when she heard his voice on the phone. She's such a doll. Anyway, we just kind of rode the waves today. Neither of us got out of our pajamas. All day. So when she really wanted to go outside this evening, I hardly even thought about us trekking off in our pj's. OK, so mine probably just looked like workout clothes, but still not what I usually wear outside my home.

Anyway, Hannah LOVES her some swing-time, so as we let the sun settle behind West Mountain, I pushed my girl to and fro and made small talk with a cute family until they left. It was cute that when we were talking about our kids' names, we realized that their daugher's name (Grace) was on our list and Hannah was on theirs. They both mean the same thing, you know. Beautiful names.

Anyway, shortly after the cute family left, we were joined by a lone boy, Ben, who opened up and told me much about his life. He is eight years old, and basically lives "in lots of places." His parents are split up, and while he lives with his mother in Pennsylvania most of the year, he spends his summer and holidays with his dad. He talked about how "kids without parents" eat free on airplanes and how he flies out with his brother. We talked about school and how his mom used to be a doctor. We talked about everything and when I started to feel it was getting late, I asked who was with him. "Just me" he said, explaining that his dad had dropped him off and that he comes all the time. Eight years old and a "long walk" home alone. I kept him talking and learned about his patched up family of siblings and step-siblings, his mother's three marriages, places he had lived, his friends, etc. and how his mom is remarried but his dad "probably never will." Call me nosy, but I wanted to know more about his dad. "Does your dad date?" I asked carefully. "Well, he would rather date a man than a girl," he told me, laughing nervously. "My dad is basically gay." My heart sank and I looked at this beautiful child (sorry, this handsome kid who is tough and plays tackle football....) and I felt for him and all of the hurt and confusion he has dealt with at this young age. I can only imagine the kind of marriage his parents had before they split knowing how much friction different sexual orientations would cause in a relationship. He mentioned that his step dad can be "pretty mean" and that his real dad is nice most of the time, though the look on his face said so much. I wished I could take this boy home with me and give him a stable, secure home with a family that wasn't going anywhere. How is he going to find stability in this life when all around him is complete chaos? We said our goodbyes and he stayed on the playground. I could tell he wasn't anxious to go back to his dad's. As we slowly walked back home, I kept thinking of little Ben and how much I wanted to help him. I tried to think of something I could do, but the only answer I could come up with was to pray. So I pray for Ben and will continue to as often as I can. And we will hopefully run into him again while he is here because I think he liked us. And I know we like him.

The Price of Humility

I had an epiphany today while sweeping my kitchen floor (yes, sometimes they do bubble up during the most mundane tasks...) I was thinking about some recent events that turned out differently than we had anticipated (and I'll admit, sort of expected) and I got to thinking. Were we overly confident to the point that it had a reverse effect? Were we not only wanting but also expecting the outcome so much that we needed to be humbled by having it not turn out? It isn't a bad thing to have confidence in something good. Without confidence, we would probably do very little well. And I don't mean boasting-with-pride confidence. But can't it easily cross over into that? I know that if I'm not careful, it does for me. So, I got to thinking about humility and being humble and all of that, and that is when the light bulb turned on. Blink. And my realization:

It costs more to be proud than to be humble.

It may seem that the greater cost is in being humble: forgoing desires, exercising patience, enduring pain, suffering, misery, etc., but it really does work the other way around. We all know that God wants us to be humble. That is a no-brainer. We also know that he would rather us humble ourselves if possible, but if not, He is happy to do it for us. Now, it might sound a little harsh to say that God will gladly humble us, but truly, it is for our own good. When we are humble, we learn better. We love better. We are more forgiving of ourselves and others and we sin much, much less. Humility is the best state to be in at all times and in any situation. So when things don't go the way we hoped, even if the outcome we wanted seemed to be in our best interest, could it be that we lost out simply to learn humility? And if a wise and loving Heavenly Father saw that that was in our best interest, can we not learn to see it too?

Life: It's about Family

The following came to me while I was thinking today:

The Stork called today…he has a beautiful baby for you that looks just like you and your handsome husband. When shall I have him delivered? What's that? You're too busy doing your Master's program? Uh-huh...No time for a baby…Well, let me see, there's the Perez family down the street. They're begging for a baby, but their faith is being tested with a fertility trial. They don't know it now, but they'll have a baby of their own in three years. But this baby can't wait that long... It's his turn now.

Let me see what else I can do….You know, I've always liked those Johnson's around the corner, but they have their hearts set on buying that new house. It's sad to see them stop at only two. They make such cute children. But, it is their choice. I'm having trouble thinking of anyone who could take this baby right now and time is running out.

Well, I don't like it, but there's that other family across the street. They have drug and alcohol addictions and will abuse this baby until he's taken away by the State, but they are the closest option I have. I guess I will call the Stork back and tell him I have found a family. I am so sorry Baby, but this is the best I can do.

President Brigham Young said:

There are multitudes of pure and holy

spirits waiting to take tabernacles, now what is our

duty?--To prepare tabernacles for them; to take a course

that will not tend to drive those spirits into the families of

the wicked, where they will be trained in wickedness

debauchery, and every species of crime. It is the duty of

every righteous man and woman to prepare tabernacles

for all the spirits they can (Discourses of Brigham

Young, p. 197).

It is our duty to prepare bodies "...for all the spirits [we] can…"  That is one huge responsibility. And one that is not to be taken lightly. According to Brigham Young (as well as President Spencer W. Kimball who was quoting him), the number of children we have should be based on our ability, not our convenience or desires, plans or dreams. "But I've always wanted four children" doesn't cut it. What if we could have just one more? Where does that last child go? If not into our home, does that innocent baby really go to a wicked home? God's prophets don't blow smoke. Neither do they say things just because. I really believe that President Brigham Young knew how this whole family thing worked when he said this. And you better believe I will have all the children I can because I want to have my "quiver full of them" (Psalms 127:5)

What does that scripture really mean? If a quiver holds arrows, what are children to weapons? Is having a family some sort of protection against spiritual harm and danger? I believe it is. Protection against selfishness, pride and sin because having a family forces us to SACRIFICE every day of our lives. And to learn how to LOVE more than just ourselves. Yes, I believe that children are like arrows and I want my quiver packed full of 'em. To protect me from complacency and idleness. To keep me alive and childlike. To teach me the wonder of everyday things. And to remind me every day about my Maker. Because He makes children and all things good. But mostly because the more children I can have, the more I can save from a miserable life where they are taught so much about life that is false. Because I WANT TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE in this world, and more than degrees or careers or Academy Awards, this is how I can make the most difference for humanity. By opening my heart and my home to the innocent sweet little children who need it. Because I am here for them. 

I know that I would never feel comfortable "stopping" my family before God decides I'm done because I could never live with myself that way. My precious jewels are my family members and who wants to limit the number of "jewels" they own in their collection? I want all I can have because to me, this is living life with "no regrets." 

Happy is the man[and woman] that hath his [and her] quiver full of [children]:

 they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.

Punctual-iciousness

As I have mentioned before, I married late. Much later than I had anticipated and later than two of my younger siblings. It was a lot later than I had dreamed it would happen, but I shouldn't have been surprised. I mean, after all, Late is my middle name (and you thought you knew what it was...) My whole entire life I have been late. I was born nearly two weeks past my due date and this pushed me, not only into a new month, but into the New Year. My parents remember pushing socks onto my feet as they heard the school bus coming down our street, trying desperately to put a sense of time into my sleepy head. I, however, would just stare into the plain air, completely oblivious to the fact I was possibly going to miss my bus for school.

It took me over ten years to get my bachelor's degree. That takes a lot of courage to admit on a public blog. But then again, most of you probably already know that. It doesn't really even bother me. I was in no rush to graduate and enjoyed my time in and out of school, working, acting, etc. When I got married, I took a break from school. I would have happily put schooling aside at any time for a husband and family, but since that took so long, I ended up with a degree. And eventually my husband. And my baby.

I was late for my first date with my husband too. Almost a half hour late. And my husband highly values punctuality. Thankfully for me, he overlooked that *minor detail* and I am finally married with the family I always dreamed of having.

So why the random post about tardiness? And waiting? And being f-o-r-e-v-e-r late? Because I also became a mother late. I thought that after all of that waiting for a husband that I would have a baby right away. I gave birth to my first child at 28. I had wanted to start a family right after high school. That's a whoppin' ten year difference. And a far cry from the life I carefully scripted in my naive teenage head.

You see, God saw further than my sixteen-year-old mind could comprehend. Yes, I could have married somewhat soon after high school. But the guy I was interested in at that time wasn't right for me. And deep inside my heart, I knew it. And thankfully, I trusted that.

My husband is younger than I am. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't have married him when I was 18, because he was a minor and still in high school. At 23 when I was longing for my family, he was serving a mission for the LDS Church in Peru. When we finally met in 2009, I was already 26 and worrying that my biological sand timer was running out. What I didn't know was that it actually was. Two years and a knowledgeable doctor later, I finally had my baby girl.

With our age difference, I had pretty easily figured out why I couldn't find and marry Paul as soon as I had wanted to, but the whole infertility thing is just life. And I know it is not unique to me and I know I am so very lucky it was only two years of tearful patience. But I have learned patience. And trust. And humility. And grat-i-tude. Gratitude for what I have at each moment and not what I long for. Gratitude for God's perfect timing, his punctuality in bringing us what we need when we need it. And for the little things that make it so worth it in the end.

This post is ending up so far from where I started and planned on going, but the point I am making is the same. God understands punctuality and "on time" so much better than any of us could ever pretend to. What I have learned (and am still learning) from all of this is to TRUST GOD. 

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not unto thy own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct thy paths. (Proverbs 3:5-6)

 So, what is my point in all of this? Trust God. Simply trust Him. Pray, do your best, and at the end of the day, know it is ALL GOING TO BE OKAY. Because He is our Father. He loves us, and He is watching over us all. That is my testimony. That I know to be as real as the sun that shines. And may it shine on all of us tomorrow. 

Today I went visiting teaching. While I was preparing some bookmarks for the ladies I visit teach, I decided to write a card for my own visiting teacher who will soon be moving away to the East Coast.  She has expressed to me her desires to "get a Master's degree and possibly start a PhD program" before having children. I wanted to share what I wrote her.

Dear, sweet, [Name withheld]*
You have been an incredible visiting teacher and have taught me so much!! Thank you.
There are some things that are easier expressed in writing and before you leave, I want you to have my testimony of motherhood. [Name withheld], there is no greater calling or honor in this world than being a mother to God's precious children. He loves them so very much and wants them to experience this beautiful earth life. Nothing in this world can compare with the joy of having our own sweet families. Children are Life's greatest treasures. There is so much pulling for women's attention in our world today and so many seemingly noble distractions. Remember the Church's counsel not to wait. Waiting only puts off our joy.
I love you and wish you the very best. I hope that soon includes a little you or [hubby] to cuddle to sleep each night. [Heart]

Love always,
Your grateful visit-teachee
Mary Shade

The World is a Stage

I recently read about a fellow alumni, Aurora Dickamore, of Brigham Young University, who just toured Broadway as the lead in My Fair Lady. As acting used to be a favorite pursuit of mine, I have thought a lot about the different paths our lives have taken these past several months...

[Photo Courtesy of BYU Magazine]

She and I graduated the same time April of 2011. I was sick and pregnant (finally!) and in the middle of a move. She was about to get married and embark on the adventure of a lifetime, performing as Eliza Doolittle across America. While I realize what an amazing opportunity this was for her, I can't help but feel humbly grateful for my own very different experiences.

My "Fair Lady"

In the past six months, I delivered a baby...learned to be a mother...witnessed my very own tiny girl's first smile...listened to her first laugh [on Christmas Day]... watched her beam with pride as she first rolled over and steadied her with my own hands as she learned to sit up on her own...fed her every single meal of my own milk and gloried in the praise I received from her pediatrician for her chubby rolls of fat...basked in the applause of her every smile and cried with her in her most tender moments.

That scary but rewarding night in the NICU

My Little Sleeping Angel

Our First Walk Together

I estimate that I have changed over 1,000 diapers by now and I am proud of every single one of them. So many people think that being a mother is monotonous, but I got to thinking, how monotonous is singing "The Rain in Spain" every. day. for. six. months? How about 136 performances of the same lines, same songs, and the same choreography over...and over...and over...I know from experience that there are many thrilling moments being on stage and a fair share of validation and praise. I love theater and film and hope to continue to find ways to stay appropriately involved in the arts throughout my life. There's just nothing more fulfilling and satisfying than creating and raising a little human being. Period. My Little Me does new things nearly every day, she smiles at me and giggles when  I do or say something funny. She snuggles into my neck, sleeps on my chest or naps in my arms. She wraps her chubby fist around my finger and pats my face and mouth when I talk to her. She pumps her little legs and feet when she is excited and squeals with delight when she is happy. I love to see her happy. It fulfills me so deeply. I truly love being a mother and am savoring this gift I have been given. Thank you my little darling for every thing you have taught me these past six wonderful months!!!

1 Hour Old

1 Month

2 Months

3 Months

4 Months

5 Months

6 Months

Thank you my little Hannah for making me a wonderfully happy and proud mama!!! I love you sweetheart!!!

life is so life...

Life is so life...and it is so wonderful. I have been a brat. A real brat and a snob and I am feeling so convicted tonight. Convicted for my immense ingratitude for the immeasurable blessings I enjoy. Convicted for the feelings I've had since my daughter was born (it has truly been a challenge but oh, what a blessing!!!) I lay in bed tonight next to my precious daughter as tears seeped from my eyes. Some people will never have the experience of bearing a child or raising a family in their whole lifetime . How could I forget how close I came to being one of those unfortunate people? Unfortunate, because I believe that having a family is the most important thing anyone could ever do in this life. And I once feared it might never happen for me...

And somehow it did. Somehow God's beautiful Plan for me did include a family. A wonderful, loving husband and a perfect, oh-so-perfect daughter who fills me with joy every day. I cannot get over how blessed I am. And yet I've had the nerve to feel sorry for myself. Sorry that breastfeeding did not go as planned. Sorry that my daughter needs to be held so much that my wrists ache and I struggle to accomplish anything else and sorry it can take so much work sometimes to get her to sleep. Work that will last a few mere months in the grand scheme of things? And then she will grow up and sleep on her own and I will shed tears for the loss of those tender moments when she sank into sleep in my arms...or on my shoulder...or "on tap" as she often is (her favorite place to be is nursing - which is thankfully not so painful for me now...)

Yes, motherhood is work. But it is heavenly work. It is a noble task that God asks so much of us, but He gives us back so much more - a beautiful daughter who steals my heart every day of the week...a husband who works his whole life away so that I can be home with our precious baby...the privilege of living my girlhood dream. Didn't we all grow up playing house and longing for the doll in our arms to take a breath or cry a real cry? I did. I yearned for it so hard I would ache inside and I wanted nothing more than to have a family of my own. How could I take all I have ever wanted for granted? 


It didn't come easily for me either. I cried through most of my twenties, longing for a husband of my own. I would seethe inside every time a woman put down her husband or took her marriage for granted. I would feel angry at each mother who would (unnecessarily) leave her children in the full-time care of others and cringe at parents who would yell at their children and belittle them in public. Each offense would strengthen my resolve to be better when I had the opportunity. To be the kind of wife and mother I rarely saw in those around me. Yes I judged these people and yes I set lofty goals for myself, but how far I have fallen from my ideal. I have snapped at my husband in front of others and become frustrated with Hannah. I am not the perfect wife/mother/homemaker I aimed to be. It takes time and I am learning that this is a process. I can become that wife/mother/homemaker....just not all at once.

Sometimes life is just hard. Sometimes it really is. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I think I am learning to accept the fact that even imperfection can be truly beautiful. If we let it. I'm learning that it does no good to be a complainer. I'm learning that we have to learn to be patient and not want everything at all at once (thank you, Dr. Obvious...). I'm learning that when we have things really good, it may not be the time to ask for more. Just enjoy the things (and people) we have. Wanting another baby when mine is not even six months old yet is an innocent wish and I am hoping for one soon, but how about focusing on the one I have now and being grateful I even have a baby? Remember how I worried that wasn't going to happen? Oh how selfish and greedy I can be. And yes, children are a better thing to be greedy for than say, material possessions, but greed is still greed. I am SO lucky to have my dreams come true.

I'm Back!!!

When I had my baby girl last fall, a kind friend recommended that I switch to using nicknames on our blog (or make it private) for safety's sake. While I know that she meant well and I gave it an honest effort, I found that instead, I completely lost my interest in blogging and became somewhat paranoid. I feel that having a blog is good therapy for me as I commence my climb on the rocky terrain of new parenthood. I have also found that it is a good excuse to for me to write and flex my sometimes dormant brain muscles in an intellectual and creative way. I hope it will help to keep my mind sharp in the hazy sleepless days of motherhood and will prevent the embarrassing occurrence of "mommy brain." At least a severe case. We'll see. For now, I am back again in the blogosphere and hope you will come along occasionally and say hi. To the Shadesters. Because that's who we are.


Love ya!


Mary

Gratitude

Exactly one year ago today, I walked out of the BYU Student Health Center holding a slip of paper that confirmed I was PREGNANT! I was so overwhelmed with joy that a year after our miscarriage, we were finally expecting again and this time with better odds of keeping the baby. Well, we kept her and our lil' Miss is as cute as ever!!! Four and a half months old, she is now smiling, grinning, giggling, cooing and "singing." She is the most precious thing in the world to us and we feel so blessed. Because of my immense gratitude today, I wanted to share a little of our story:

Paul and I got married on August 9, 2009 and immediately began hoping for a baby. More than anything in the world, we wanted to become parents and begin creating our own little family. Five months after our wedding, we were elated to discover that I was pregnant! Little did we know it would result in a heart-wrenching miscarriage and a time filled with doubt, insecurity and pain. Among mixed advice from various doctors and professionals, we decided to wait only a month before attempting to become pregnant again. More than six months after that, we still hadn't conceived and my worries continued to grow. Considering my age and the fact that we had already miscarried, we discussed going to go see a specialist. A series of events led us to our doctor, Larry Andrew, and we went to see him in January of 2011. Only two months later, on March 14, we found out that we were expecting our baby girl! Even at that, our story was still just beginning, and it involved early ultrasounds, blood tests and ten days of progesterone shots. Though we faced a few small scares throughout the pregnancy, it was overall uneventful and on October 28, 2011, I delivered a beautiful and healthy (though early) five pound bundle of joy. Our story has really only begun and we are so happy to finally have a baby to call our own!

I am so filled with gratitude today that what once seemed to be an overwhelming challenge has been conquered and rewarded with daughter of our very own. She is everything to us and we are thrilled to be her parents! We are hoping to soon give her little brothers and sisters and to fill our home with children. There is no greater blessing in this life than to help create little bodies for our Heavenly Father's children so they can experience this earth life. We are so happy and grateful to begin this great work. Thank God for the beautiful institution of the family!

Photos courtesy of Samuel Silver, Copyright 2012.