one year

One year ago today our 4th child, our 3rd son, Miles Kent Watkins was born, and our lives changed forever. My heart shattered into a million pieces as I held our precious baby and realized we wouldn't be able to take him home, see him grow up, and shower him with all the love we had.

There is no way I could have survived the coming hours, days, weeks, and months without the amazing support system surrounding me, including my husband, family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, and even people I didn't know reaching out to tell me their stories and roads to recovery. Dave and I's marriage was strengthened as we relied on each other for support, understanding, and love. Our perspective changed and we realized more than ever that the little things didn't matter- just each other and our family. The Lord's tender mercies fell upon us through the prayers and service done on our behalf. Most importantly, my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ became deeper and stronger as I sincerely prayed for comfort, peace, and strength. I relied heavily on the Gospel to help me through each day and to provide some sort of understanding and hope.

I often felt like I would never be "myself" again, that I could never be happy, optimistic, and friendly. Or that I would never be able to find joy in the things I once loved to do- traveling, baking, even just laughing with friends. I felt like I would always be jaded by the harsh reality that life isn't fair, bad things happen to good people, and that not all dreams can come true. But then I realized that although I didn't have control over what happened, I did have control over my attitude and perspective. Miles would not want me to be angry, bitter, resentful, or miserable. I knew that Heavenly Father loved me and would want me to put my faith and trust in Him, to believe that things would work out somehow. I had been blessed with such amazing blessings throughout my life, I did not want my trials to define me or make me ungrateful for all the wonderful things surrounding me.

As time went on, I realized I wasn't "myself" again, but perhaps a better version of myself. Although I had never felt more weak, I somehow became stronger. My faith was tested beyond my limit, yet it grew more than I thought possible. I hope I became more patient, understanding, compassionate, and sensitive, with less judgement and criticism. And somehow my happy days became richer, as I appreciated them more and learned to enjoy every fun moment. I feel Miles truly made me a better wife, sister, daughter, friend, and mother.

If someone would have told me what the next 12 months would bring, I would not have believed them one bit. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the amazing, wonderful miracles that have happened this year. Lillian is truly an angel sent from God. The amount of joy, love, happiness, and fulfillment she brings could never be measured or put into words. I strongly believe things happen for a reason, and that certain events had to happen to bring Lillian into our eternal family. I'm sure that our 4 older children were rejoicing when we were able to bring Lillian home, and more recently, have her sealed to us in the temple. And now we have the wonderful possibility of bringing home another baby girl in about 6 weeks. Oh, how my heart is full.

I love and miss our dear Miles with all my heart. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of him and thank my Heavenly Father for his sweet spirit in our family. Dave and I are motivated to better ourselves, that we may be worthy of our children who were "too pure, too lovely" for this imperfect world. I look forward to the day when we can be reunited with them and have the opportunity to raise them during a time of peace and love. Until that time, Isaac, Noah, Ruth, and Miles will live in our hearts as precious members of our family.

gray + yellow = love

I find it hard to resist the combination of gray and yellow. Maybe it's this time of the year- the sky is often gray, but a peek of sun coming through makes everything beautiful. And as spring draws closer, the bright colors bring hope, happiness, and signs of a new beginning. I think that's how I've been feeling lately: there are many moments, hours, or days where I feel sad and gray. But then I'll get a splash of yellow- a ray of hope concerning the future, a kind word, a prayer answered, a heartfelt conversation. Maybe the gray makes the yellow even more vibrant and happy, and the yellow shines a light on the gray which makes it look not so drab. But I believe the true beauty comes from the combination of the two.

I don't know

How do I go on when my world has fallen apart?

Why must I say goodbye to my child when our life together has only just begun?

How can I be brave when my worst fears have come true?

How can my eyes physically produce this many tears?

What can I do to feel better when nothing can change what has happened?

I don't know.

I DO know that little Miles is a part of our family now and forever, and I will be with him for eternity.

I know that Heavenly Father loves me, Dave, and our children and has a plan for our family.

I know that I am surrounded by prayers, fasting, thoughts, support, and love from everyone we know.

I know that I am honored to be the mother to a beautiful baby boy who is too perfect for this imperfect world.

I know that when I feel like I can't face another day, the Lord answers my prayers through each person who gives me courage, strength, and faith to endure.

Thank you for being that person. Thank you for each hug, note, prayer, thought, and bit of love. Not only do I appreciate it more than you know, I think I need it more than I know.

blue christmas

Another pregnancy come and gone, and still no desired result. The news Dave and I received on Christmas Eve: "You're not pregnant after all. But you may have an ectopic pregnancy. We don't know. You can't go on your cruise. You need to take a chemo drug to kill all the cells. You can't try to get pregnant again for several months. Merry Christmas."

I feel like I'm in a bad dream. Not only are our hopes of this next pregnancy crushed, but now we have to stay home and have salt poured in our wounds every day. Our Christmas was spent in tears. And now Dave's birthday will not be spent slow dancing on top of a cruise ship in 80 degree weather like we had planned- instead we will be home in the cold.

Winter is my least favorite of the seasons; the cold and the dark take a toll on my mood and emotions. But usually Christmas is the warm highlight of the winter. Not this year. Christmas is supposed to be a time when your heart feels full, with so much joy and love. Yet mine feels shattered and broken. How can others have a "Merry Christmas" when I feel so miserable? How can the rest of the world open gifts with smiles and cheer when I can barely pull myself together? Why are Dave and I the "downers" of our friends and families, with people feeling awkward and uneasy around us? What has happened to the Holly I used to know?

My list of unanswered questions goes on and on. What am I to do in the coming year to change the current course my life is taking? 2009 has felt like the evil step-sister of the previous years of my life. I can only hope and pray that 2010 is more graceful, kind, sweet, and gentle.

Comforts of Home, part one

What is it about home that is so comforting? I think it may be different for everybody and for every home. To me, home is more of a feeling than an actual place.

For the past two months, Dave and I have had the pleasure of staying with my parents in my childhood home. This will always be one of the places I consider "home," full of many memories and traditions. My parents' home provides me with strong feelings of belonging, comfort, and unconditional love. But why?

Maybe it's my mom's delicious food she prepares daily- no matter what is served it always tastes better when she makes it. Maybe it's the way my dad saves the Tribune crossword each morning for me, then comes home after work to check my answers (or help me finish it!). Maybe it's the warm fireplace that draws me close night after night, or the nightlights in the hallway that prevent any bumps or bruises as I find my way to the bathroom. Is it Brittany, looking up at me with her big brown eyes wanting a rub or just a little treat? Is it my dad watching 30 Rock with me when I know he'd rather be watching Criminal Minds? Maybe it's my mom driving me to and from University Hospital several times when I know how much she dislikes finding her way around the campus.

I can't pinpoint what it is about home that helps to heal my spirit and mend my heart, but I know I'd be lost without it. I am filled with gratitude to my parents for making their home a place of refuge, safety, comfort, and love, and Dave and I aim to do the same. Returning home to mine and Dave's house was bittersweet- although I was thrilled to be going home and returning to Joey, I knew I would miss my parents. The closeness I gained to my parents made me want to share each day with them. Never will I forget the generosity and compassion they have shown to me, and although I know I can never repay them I hope to honor them by creating a home that holds the same feelings of comfort and warmth. There really is no place like home.

A new month, a new me

March has always been a month of change.  To me it signals the end of a cold, dark winter and the coming of a warmer, brighter spring.  Something I love about the month is watching the crocuses, daffodils, and tulips break through the brown soil with their green leaves and colorful flowers.  As I see them in my own yard as well as others, they bring me hope of lighter days with more sunshine and warmth.  These flowers have hidden underground during the long months of winter but have not given up.  Not only do they eventually blossom, but they make this effort immediately after sensing any increase in temperature, for they are eager to enjoy the spring and summer again.  These flowers know that their colorful petals and vibrant stems will turn brown once more and they will have to turn inward and endure more dark times.  But this doesn't stop them from fulfilling their beautiful potential.  Often times throughout the cold months of winter, these flowers not only survive but grow and become stronger, filling gardens with more and more beautiful blossoms each year.

I hope to become like these flowers.  I hope to blossom and fulfill more of my potential.  I know hard times will come again, but I want to enjoy every good day the Lord grants me.  I want my trials to motivate me to be brighter and stronger during the good times rather than live in fear of another "winter."  As March transitions from winter to spring, I am trying to transition from sadness to joy.  We all know that the month of March does not mean there will be no more blizzards or rainstorms, but that more and more sunny days are on their way.  And maybe I too will have more sunny days.  The months are changing and so am I.