Fly Ball!!!

He did it! Kaleb hit the ball!! A fly ball to right field!! (No, the right-fielder did not catch it.) I am so proud of that boy of mine. I knew he could do it!

Unfortunately, I missed it! I had to teach a class last night, so I missed his game. This is the first game I've missed all season. KC was there though and he said the whole team and all the parents went crazy when he hit. WTG Kaleb!!!!

I don't know what finally got through to him, but whatever it was, it worked!

Kaleb (who just turned 10) has been terrified to swing at the ball since about half-way through the season. He started out the year doing great. He had several nice hits and a few foul balls. But then he got hit by stray pitches 3 or 4 times (always during practice with his team) and that just shut him down. Since then, he's been stepping out of the batter's box or dropping to the ground as the pitch goes by. He was just terrified of being hit again, and he refused to swing. His coach has been working hard with him, and has stayed positive, encouraging him to keep trying. I've been taking him across the street to the ball field to watch the other teams play, hoping to get him excited again. And both KC and I have just kept trying to encourage him and help him to believe in himself again.

Yesterday, as part of his summer workbook assignment, Kaleb had to set some goals for himself. Kenyon was helping him and suggested that one of his goals be to hit the ball. I was surprised when Kaleb agreed. He had to write down how he felt about that goal. He wrote "I will try my hardest to hit the ball."

And he did!!

I know this probably seems like such a silly thing, but for Kaleb it's huge. We have really struggled with Kaleb's confidence in himself, so something like this is a giant boost for him. He's on cloud 9 today and I'm just thrilled for my sweet boy.

Now I'm off to take him to Cold Stone, since I promised to treat him if he hit the ball. He has another game tonight. I'm hoping he'll get a hit again so I can see it. We can do Cold Stone twice in one day, right!?

Happy Birthday KC!!

I've been super busy this past week and haven't had much time to post. Hopefully things will settle down a bit in a few days and I can share some of the thoughts that have been rattling around in my brain.

I did want to quickly post a HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my sweetheart and best friend. It's amazing to me that I love him more today than I did when we were first married. Our love has seen us through a lot over the years. I am so grateful to have such a wonderful man in my life to share both the struggles and the joys with. I know that losing Makelle has been incredibly hard on him. But as we've leaned on each other, we've grown even closer. And slowly, we are finding our way again. He is a wonderful husband and father and I am a better person because of him.

I love you KC!!

A Pair of Shoes

I found this on another blog and found it very fitting (no pun intended), so I thought I'd share it with you.

"A Pair of Shoes"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.

They are ugly shoes.

Uncomfortable shoes.

I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.

Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think
I can take another step.

Yet, I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes.

They are looks of sympathy.

I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are
my shoes and not theirs.

They never talk about my shoes.

To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.

To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.

But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.

I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.

There are many pairs in this world.

Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.

Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.

Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.

Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.

These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.

They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

Author unknown

From the Mountain

Today's the day. July 8th, 2008. We thought our baby girl would be here with us by now. We never thought that we'd be left empty-handed and broken-hearted instead. I thought today would be just another ordinary day. It wasn't.

Thank you to all the wonderful friends who remembered us and lifted us up in prayer today and in the past few days. I'm touched by how many of you are holding my angel in your hearts and I want you to know that I am grateful for your love and prayers.

I know this journey will include many mountains and valleys along the way. For now, I am enjoying being on a mountain. In the distance I can clearly see all that lies ahead. I see the beautiful and perfect plan He has laid out for His children. I want to stay here on this mountain. I fear the valley that is sure to come. Maybe it won't be as deep as the last. Maybe the climb to the next mountain top won't be as steep or as jagged. However it comes, I'm grateful to know that I will have His hand to lift me, to guide me, even to carry me as I make my way through that valley to the top of the mountain again.

With hope,

Misti

This and That

Just a few random thoughts today ...

First off, an update on my summer goals. Maegan and I have had a couple more sessions with her 2-wheeler, criss-crossing the back patio with mom running along beside, repeatedly promising not to let her fall. She has slowly progressed to balancing herself for all of 2 seconds so far! LOL This is actually huge for her when you consider that she has always had a bit of a gross-motor delay. (Maegan is our own little miracle, which is a story for another day.) She was both shocked and thrilled when I told her that I had actually let go of the back of her seat for just a few seconds here and there. She then reminded me how glad she was to be wearing her helmet. Smart kid.

Kayson challenged me to a pitch-off last night in the back yard and once again proved that yes, mom does throw like a girl. We've set up a metal trash can for him to practice pitching in to. Something about that loud CLANG when he hits his target is very motivating to this particular 7 year old. I'm not sure how the neighbors feel about it though.

On a different note, the baby samples and coupons have started arriving in the mail in abundance the last few days. Yesterday I got a full-sized can of Similac along with some formula checks and a letter telling me what an "exciting time this is" as we prepare to meet our baby. I just don't have it in me to call all these companies and explain our situation. So I figure I'll just let them keep sending me free stuff. I'm sure I can find someone who can use it all. I admit though, my heart hurt deeply the first time I had to explain to the kids why we were getting diaper and formula samples in the mail.

Moving on... I was sorting through some photos on my computer this morning while Kaleb sat by my feet working on his summer workbook page. As I was going through some pictures from Makelle's funeral, he looked up from his work and with a big sigh said, "I really miss Makelle, Mom". Awwww... my sweet boy is so sensitive and compassionate. I often worry whether we are doing all we can to help the kids through this. Before Makelle's funeral, we took them shopping to pick out something small to place in her casket with her. We also encouraged them to choose something for themselves to help them remember their sister. Kaleb chose a small stuffed blue dog which he immediately named Makelle and has slept with every night since. In fact, when I settle the kids in bed and kiss them good night, he insists that I kiss his "Makelle" too. What a sweetie.

Last thought... I've had a lot more visitors to this blog lately and I'm quite surprised. If you are here, welcome! I'd love for you to take a minute and say hello or introduce yourself by leaving a comment. I apologize that I'm not the most eloquent or witty blogger around, but I am glad to have you along. It makes my heart happy to know there are people out there who care to know how we are doing, and are taking the time to read these posts and walk this road with me.

Enough rambling. I hope you all have an enjoyable Independence Day!

Much love,

Misti

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!