Four Months, with Hope

I can't believe it's been four months today since we said good-bye to our sweet angel girl. (122 days... yes, I'm still counting.) I miss her so much. My arms ache to hold her and I long to tell her how much she is loved. Somehow I think she knows, though.

My due date is coming up quickly. How could it be July already? Part of me is just anxious for it to come and go. I feel like once my due date has passed, I can finally be free of the anxiety and apprehension that's been plaguing me for the last few weeks. When I flipped my calendar from June to July this morning, my heart sunk seeing the words "DUE DATE" in big bold letters. I grabbed a pen and quickly scribbled it out. I've thought about doing that many times before, but for some reason I just couldn't bring myself to. Something about crossing out those words makes it seem so final. But today I just did it. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing them staring at me every day for the entire month. July 8th is just another day now.

(Just to resolve any confusion, I know I've told some of you that my due date was July 6th and some the 8th. I actually learned just before Makelle passed away that my Dr. had changed my due date at some point. I'm not sure why or when exactly, but she had July 6th in my charts. In my mind, it was always the 8th.)

I honestly can't think of a time in my life when the adversary has worked harder on me than he has in the past 4 months. Some days it's been all I can do to just keep moving forward. My heart has been torn in so many different directions. It's physically, emotionally and spiritually overwhelming and exhausting. I still fight a daily battle with the dark thoughts that Satan puts into my mind. He wants me to feel like a failure. He wants me to think I'm not good enough for the precious spirit that is my daughter. He tells me that she is perfect and I am not, and that I can't possibly do all I need to do to be with her again. He tells me I should be angry. That it isn't fair to be sitting here empty and aching instead of holding my newborn baby. He wants me to be bitter. He tears at my heart and my mind with fear and doubt. Fighting these thoughts is sometimes so hard, it's frightening.

I'm learning how to fight back though. And I know that I have to keep going. I will not let Satan win this battle. Because as hard as it is, the promised prize of being with my family for eternity will make it all worth it.

I've spent a lot of time lately reading, studying and praying to find answers to the many questions that fill my mind. There is so much I long to know... about the spirit world, about the resurrection, about the Atonement, and much more. I feel driven to learn as much as I can. I've never had such a strong desire to read the scriptures, to seek for a greater knowledge, to take in everything I can get my hands on pertaining to life after this one and how the resurrection applies to me, personally.

I've found that as I study and learn, the peace and comfort I've been longing for is slowly taking over and driving out the fear and doubt. This is my weapon against the adversary who strives to wear me down. The more I learn, the more I can feel the Holy Ghost fill my weary heart with hope and peace. And where the Spirit is, Satan can not dwell! By allowing the Holy Ghost in to my heart, I have felt the love of my Father in Heaven deeply and I know that He is mindful of my suffering.

The Apostle Paul has written about how suffering can turn to hope when we experience the love of God:

“And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.” (Rom. 5: 3-5)

Losing Makelle has tested my faith like nothing else could. I have been shaken to the core. I have walked through the refiner's fire. And I have been blessed with a much stronger testimony, with renewed faith in my Heavenly Father's plan for His children, with a closer and stronger relationship with my husband, with a deeper appreciation for my children, with a profound love for my Savior, and with a sincere gratitude for His sacrifice on our behalf.

I've always loved the primary song "Did Jesus Really Live Again?". But today it holds special meaning for me as I look forward with hope to that glorious day when we will all live again.

Did Jesus really live again?
Yes, when the third day came,
He wakened and he left the tomb;
He called Mary's name.

Did Jesus come to those he loved?
Yes, people touched his feet,
And of the fish and honeycomb
He did truly eat.

And there were nail-prints in his hands
And a spear wound in his side.
Did Jesus really live again
After he had died?

Oh yes! And so shall I!


I know there are still hard days ahead. And I know that my heart is still mending.

But today I am at peace. And I know that I can face whatever comes tomorrow, with hope.

All my love,

Misti


On a side note... I've been working on this post for several hours now. I don't know why it's so painfully difficult for me to get out what I want to say. I think I'm too much of a perfectionist, because I spend more time rereading and changing things than I do actually typing it out in the first place!