Different

Those who could,

prepared me to become a 

"med school widow"

He will be busy.

He will always be studying.

I knew what I was getting myself into.

What I was not prepared for, however,

was the emotion of it all.

Pride.

He is pursuing his dream that he has worked so hard for.

Gratitude.

We got the opportunity to attend school in AZ.

Resentment.

My dreams, goals, and needs are put on hold for the next 9-11 years.

Bitterness.

He is out becoming something so noble and respectable,

making new friends,

making connections with important people,

getting praised and admiration for his hard work and accomplishments,

while I sit at home wiping spit up from down my shirt,

and picking up socks off the floor for the one millionth time. 

Loneliness.

I go to bed by myself most nights.

Sadness.

The feeling that I am losing my best friend looms over me daily.

I try to push the negative thoughts from my mind,

knowing that those emotions,

if left to simmer,

would drive a huge wedge between us,

when more distance is the last thing we need.

I try to think positive.

I try to find things to do that I enjoy and can take pride in.

I try.

I really am trying.

But it's different.

It's all just different.

He's home for dinner (most nights),

helps me get the kids ready for bed,

then shuts himself in the office to study,

while I fall asleep watching Netflix. 

Repeated tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

This is what I expected,

but our life will never be the way it used to be,

and I think I'm mourning the loss of it a little. 

And plus, 

I just miss him.

We do still try to do weekly date nights,

but even those feel different. 

Once carefree and fun,

they are now plagued with anxieties.

The next exam.

The doctoring skills that need improving.

The lectures that need reviewed.

The cost of our dinner and the babysitter against our small student budget.

I'm sure I will adjust to this new normal,
and find happiness in it even.
Until then,
I will continue to hide out in the Sonic parking lot,
drinking my dirty Dr. Pepper and listening to Harry Potter on CD,
as I try to sort it all out.

Jason's White Coat Ceremony

My House

After my last post, 

my mind still reeled.

My loving and wise father sat me down and asked me to explain why I was feeling the way I was.

Though my testimony of God's love for me had not been shaken,

I was struggling to find the reason behind such a specific impression.

Why would he give me counsel that just confused me so much?

After describing the burning I felt,

and the clearest voice I've ever heard,

my dad gave me the best counsel he's ever given to me.

He pointed out that the answers and impressions we usually get,

are small and quiet and often, are just enough counsel to take one small step forward.

The burning I felt is rare.

Most don't have those kinds of experiences.

Most don't have such clear and specific impressions.

Instead of feeling frustrated by it, he said,

You should feel grateful.

Grateful that the Lord trusts me enough to speak to me this way.

It was a true testament to my purity and faith.

When I questioned the counsel about "my house",

he so wisely asked,

"What does 'house' mean to you?"

I thought for a minute. 

I said I didn't know.

He reminded me that our Father in Heaven doesn't think in a literal, physical sense.

His ways are eternal.

His time is not our time in the way we know and understand it.

I thought a minute longer.

If I think eternally, 

and if I take a step back from what I know 'house' to mean,

what else can I see it as?

My family.

My testimony.

My relationships-

With my children.

My husband.

And my Heavenly Father.

The word 'house' is all encompassing.

It's all the most important aspects of my life.

The very second my brain moved from literal house to spiritual house,

my entire attitude changed.

From frustration to complete and utter gratitude.

My eyes filled with tears.

"Organize your house" 

It meant something completely different now. 

I was also so thankful for my dad for giving me that counsel that day.

And in the days that followed, I really thought about what 'my house' meant to me.

What exactly could I do to organize it.

To prepare it.

I searched the scriptures.

Looking up "house" in the topical guide, I found this:

"Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house or order,

a house of God."

-D&C 109:8

I don't know what the next several years will bring with Jason's pursuit in medicine,

but the Lord does.

He knows what our family will need in those times.

Because maybe we WILL move to Texas someday,

and those big changes will undoubtedly effect us.

But maybe, 

if our house is organized, 

prepared,

in order,

we will make it out okay.

We will come out the other side stronger as a family.

Do my part

Guys,

I'm struggling.

Remember in my last post when I told you about the night I awoke to the Spirit telling me to prepare for our move to Texas?

I have never had an experience like that before. 

Most of the time when I get impressions,

I hear,

I listen.

But as time goes on I start to doubt.

To question.

Was that REALLY a prompting?

Was that REALLY an answer?

Or just my mind telling me what I want to know?

There has only been a handful of times in my life when I didn't doubt myself after the fact.

But most of the time, I press on in faith,

hoping that the answer/prompting/impression that I received was from my Heavenly Father,

and that He would let me know if not.

This time was not like that.

My chest burned.

My heart was on fire.

The answer was clear.

Profound.

Undoubtable.

We were moving to Texas.

I even wrote in my journal,

"... but this time, there was no doubt this answer was coming from God.

And now, even a couple days later, I am still so sure of it.

It was a special experience for me- I've never had that burning in my chest,

so that was powerful. 

God is good- He knows what I needed..."

Moving takes time.

Especially moves across multiple state lines.

I was in my last trimester of pregnancy and feeling the stress of it all.

We have a lot of stuff. 

Stuff we wouldn't be bringing with us.

We were going to have to downsize.

I was grateful for the head's up,

 I was able to start cleaning.

Organizing.

Purging.

I went through closets.

Drawers.

And made quite a few trips to Goodwill in the weeks that followed.

We visited with a realtor to discuss putting our house on the market.

I made a moving budget after researching prices of moving trucks, 

plane tickets,

gas prices,

hotels along the way,

deposits for the new rental.

I researched homes for rent.

I contacted preschools for Navy.

I corresponded with women from a Houston stake to learn which neighborhoods were the most kid friendly.

I did my part.

Later in my journal I write,

"If Jason gets waitlisted, a call may not even come until May! 

I am not worried-

I know what I felt, 

& there are no doubts.

My only hope now is that the timing of it all will work out:

the selling of the house,

finding a rental, etc.

I know that because this is what the Lord wants us to do-

I know it will all fall into place."

All we needed to do now was wait for the call from Baylor.

It was coming.

It was just a matter of time.

But then the rest of February passed.

....................

Then March.

................

Radio silence.

In April is when Jason attended the second look weekend at UACOMP, 

which, like I said in my last post,

is when his perspective started to change.

Maybe U of A was the better choice?

When Baylor called, we would really have to think about what was best for our family.

For our future.

And for his.

A few weeks later, the email came.

Waitlisted.

And then we knew.

We were not going to be going to Texas.

We were staying here.

I was happy.

My family is here.

Jason's family is here.

Camden has made friends.

Navy has made friends.

I have made friends.

We love our home.

Our neighborhood.

Our kids' school.

Then Lily came.

And we announced our future plans.

Arizona would be our home,

at least for the next four years.

And as that fact simmered in my heart,

though grateful and relieved to be free of additional stress,

my mind thought back to that night. 

The spirit I felt was so strong.

The voice was so clear.

No doubts remember?

An experience that I was so grateful for,

has now brought me to a place of confusion,

frustration,

and a little bit of sadness to be honest.

And it's not the fact that we are not going to Texas,

I am okay with that.

Life will be easier here. 

What I don't understand is why I was given such an undeniable impression.

What good came of it?

I think of the time I wasted planning,

internet searching,

making lists.

And because I told Jason of my experience,

I feel like I let him down.

There have been times in my life where a certain impression or prompting

didn't turn out the way I thought it would,

and I have always told myself,

"Well maybe the Lord just wanted to see if I would be obedient."

But I can't accept that conclusion this time.

He knows I am obedient.

I've done everything he's ever told me directly to do.

I've always tried to listen to the big promptings I feel.

He knows me.

By now, He knows I will obey.

So I just don't accept that's what it was this time.

We were supposed to be here for school.

And that's great.

We accept that.

We understand that it is what's best for our family.

So why tell us opposite?

Why?

What good came from it?

I. Am. Struggling.

A couple days ago, I saw a quote in a friend's home:

"Don't dig up in doubt what you planted in faith."

I have had so many sweet experiences where the Lord has heard and answered prayers,

tender mercies when I am reminded of His awareness of me,

faith building moments of His love and grace.

But I am not quite sure how to move past this.

Passed the confusion and self doubt.

Here's what I do know:

God is just.

Merciful.

Kind.

He knows me.

Loves me.

And wants me to be happy.

I do not doubt these things.

And because I do not doubt these things,

my mind battles with itself.

Because the things I know are not the things I am feeling right now.

And so, 

all I can think to do,

is keep moving forward.

Be the best self I can be.

Do my part.

Be obedient.

And in time, 

I hope the doubt will fade,

the confusion will dissolve,

and some day,

the questions in my heart will be answered.

8 month recap!

I can't believe I haven't written since November. 

Maybe I felt like I didn't have anything noteworthy or important to say.

Not that every post has to be important,

maybe I'm putting too much pressure on myself. 

To be funny.

Or clever.

Or witty.

Or heartfelt. 

And even though this post may not be any of those things, 

a lot has transpired since November,

so I guess a recap wouldn't be a bad idea.

At Christmas, we found out we were having...

A GIRL.

We were excited.

This seems like so long ago!

During the pregnancy J and I talked about our future family. 

We talked about his future as a medical student,

and then a resident.

Hours would be long.

Rotations would be hard.

Sleep deprivation would surely be the norm in our lives.

Studying.

Boards Step 1.

Studying.

Boards Step 2.

Studying.

Did I say studying?

And then as a resident?

More sleep deprivation.

On call.

Rounds.

80 hour work weeks.

I have heartburn when I think about it.

So as we talked,

we talked about this third bun baking.

Maybe this bun should be our last.

We left it as a maybe,

we'd come back to the conversation later.

Except the more we let the idea simmer in our minds,

the more clear the picture became of what our family looks like.

It's a family of 5.

We knew it.

We felt it.

This little starfish growing in my uterus would be the last one to inhabit the space.

My last roommate.

And so,

on Christmas morning, 

when we read the words,

"Congratulations, it's a girl!"

on the small card the nurse handed me at the doctor the week before,

we knew that this little girl was our caboose,

the last piece to the DeWitt family puzzle.

And that felt right.

At the beginning of the year,

Jason was offered an interview in Texas.

I tagged along.

We drove to the neighborhood I heard about to see if we could envision our lives there.

We fell in love. 

The interviews went great, and the school was fantastic.

Jason fell in love.

We were committed.

Though we still had an acceptance to UofA Phoenix,

(Or UACOM-P as the students call it)

we felt like Texas was where we would surely end up.

So now it was just a waiting game.

A couple of months after that,

more good news.

Mom was cancer free!

After a radical debunking surgery

and a few more rounds of chemotherapy,

she was in remission.

Of course this was the greatest blessing, 

and what everyone had been praying for for months. 

We threw her a party

and celebrated her victory.

Some time in March, I was awakened by the Spirit,

telling me to do a specific something in my Laurel's lesson I was giving that weekend.

After I had made the mental note to add that to the lesson,

I received this message,

"You are going to Texas. Start organizing the house. Everything will work out."

My chest burned as I heard those words.

It was clear.

I could not deny it.

And the next day, I told Jason about my experience.

We mentally prepared ourself for our move to Houston. 

Now all we needed was the official acceptance from the medical school. 

It was coming.

How could it not?

The Spirit had told me so.

The first weekend of April, UACOM-P had their second look weekend.

This is where they "wine and dine" their accepted applicants, 

hoping that those with multiple offers will ultimately choose their school.

Jason went, even though we were still waiting for an acceptance from TX.

After a full day of tours, talking to students and staff, and learning more about the school,

Jason surprised me by saying that if TX accepted him,

it was going to be more of a weighted decision than it was before.

He liked what he saw. And heard.

And felt like he fit in with the students better.

As he explained how his perspective had changed,

my focus started to shift as well.

Life WOULD be easier if we stayed here.

And the closer my due date got,

the more my mind changed from Texas to Arizona.

And then, 

after a while,

I didn't want to move at all.

I wanted to stay.

We were going to stay.

I didn't want to pack up the house while trying to recover from labor,

having a newborn,

trying to find a rental in Houston,

not knowing how long it would take for our house to sell,

Camden changing schools.

It was all too much.
So I picked out some paint and started decorating the girls' room.
Jason didn't stop me- so I guess I knew the answer was Arizona.

Fast forward to the morning of April 29th...
I was DONE with being pregnant,
it was time to get this baby out!
So after breakfast, I made myself a little castor oil cocktail,
plugged my nose,
and gulped it down.
And then I waited....
....
.............

At about 2 p.m., I felt my first real contraction.
Hard and long.
Then another at 2:20,
2:40,
2:50,
3:00,
and then every five minutes.
Jason called on his way home from work.
I told him I was having steady contractions.
When he said, "So you think this could be it??"
I said, "DON'T JINX IT!"
He got home around 4 and we walked down the park with kids.
I stopped with each contraction and held onto Jason.
At the park, it was uncomfortable to sit, to stand, to walk.
I was hurting.
And my back was taking the brunt of it.
Because I had a c-section with Navy,
my doctor didn't really want me to labor long because of risk of rupturing,
so at 6 o'clock when they were still 5 minutes apart and getting painful,
I decided to call Dr. Holmes.
Without wanting to know how far apart my contractions were or how long they were lasting, he said
"I'll meet you at the hospital"
It was go time!

After checking in, I was checked in triage and was only 1 cm dilated.
My doctor came in and said he wasn't sure that I was actually in labor,
though looking back I had never told him I was having back labor-
since that is a good indicator of true labor,
he probably wouldn't have made me wait.
Anyway,
he wanted to wait an hour to see if I would progress.
The hospital wouldn't let me walk around because I wasn't considered "full term"
which is now 38 weeks.
I was 37 and 4 days.
For that hour, I prayed hard!
I prayed that my labor would progress and that this baby would be born tonight.
I did NOT want to go home.
My contractions continued, but seemed to get less intense and farther apart according to the monitor.
I was worried.
But my back was still cramping so I figured that was probably a good sign.
After the hour was up, Dr. Holmes checked me again and I was at a 3!
HOORAY!
Then it was i.v. placement, sign paperwork, meet anesthesiologist, o.r. nurse,
and then the walk back to the operating room.
Seeing that room in a non emergency situation
(like I did with Navy)
was unnerving.
It's very sterile,
and cold
and unwelcoming.
I told Jason later,
"I can't believe you want to spend every day in a room like this"
He said I was crazy and that it made him excited.
Onto the table I went, hunched over,
and the spinal was administered.
And let me tell you,
I'm a huge wuss.
I cried and grabbed the nurse who was holding me.
It was not fun.

After I laid down, the drapes were put up,
and Jason was finally let in.
I felt the tugging and pulling and at 10:24 p.m.
we heard that sweet cry.
It was strong and loud!
They cleaned her off a bit and then laid her on my chest.
I was so happy to be able to hold her right after.
Because I was really shaky and feeling drugged from all the medication,
I didn't hold her long,
but I was grateful for the few minutes I got.
She weighted 7 lbs even and was 20 inches,
with a full head of red hair just like her sister!

Jason took pictures of the whole process,
but my (ahem) lower half wasn't covered,
so I'm going to spare you those.

Woah... I was swollen! No wonder I was so miserable!

We have had Lily Jewel in our family for 7 weeks now and we just love her.
She is a great baby and is really packin' on the pounds!
Her little cheeks have really filled out and she's got some delicious thigh rolls.
(Why doesn't anyone say that about me??)
Lily will be our last baby,
so I am trying to enjoy her as much as I can,
but man!
3 kids is hard!!
I am finally feeling like I am SORTA getting the hang of things around here,
but there are days where I still don't find time to shower.
It is overwhelming.

Since having her home,
we've been busy with summer camps, dance recitals,
work, doctors/dentist appointments, but Jason's last day of work for DeWitt Equipment is today!
He will have one whole week off before he starts school on June 27th,
so we are excited to spend some quality time as a family before our lives change forever.
And,
We are so grateful for Jason's dad, for employing him the last 7 years-
DeWitt Equipment has been a great blessing for our family.

That was a pretty long recap I'm sorry-
I really should be better about blogging.
Though I may have a more interesting life once Jason starts school,
so maybe there will be more frequent posts ahead!

Happy Friday!

Divinely Inspired

I know I know...

I've missed quite a few Gratitude Mondays. 

Sorry about that.

This fetus doesn't allow me to accomplish much these days.

A shower and hair wash is considered a win for me lately.

Every Monday, 

I do still think about the things I'm grateful for.

I am still grateful in my heart,

even though sometimes I can't make it to the computer to articulate what I might be feeling that day.

I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who is mindful of my family.

I am grateful for a husband who has picked up the slack around the house,

no questions asked.

He serves lovingly while I transfer from bed to couch to bathroom floor, then back again.

Though I feel worthless,

he doesn't make me feel like an inconvenience,

and my love for him in the last couple of months has grown exponentially.

Though I didn't know that was even possible. 

I am grateful for a selfless mother,

who moved her life into my spare bedroom to pick up the pieces of my life I could no longer carry.

Unknowing to her, I watched her one night,

bald and beautiful,

do the dishes while I laid on the couch.

And in no time, tears filled my eyes,

guilt filled my mind,

but love and admiration filled my heart.

It is quite a humbling experience to watch your mother,

fighting the battle of her life,

hair gone,

knees weak,

eyes tired,

serve you and your family willingly.

I did not ask her to come here.

In fact, I asked her NOT to come.

She insisted.

She wasn't asking for my permission.

She was coming.

Because that's what mothers do she said. 

And because she said she needed the blessings that service brings.

And as her scans came back better than anyone expected last week,

I said a silent prayer thanking God that he did in fact bless her for serving.

And knowing she will be around longer,

is a blessing for all of us.

And I will never be grateful ENOUGH for that.

I am grateful for a best friend who I call my sister,

who I call everyday.

Who listens. 

Who understands.

I am grateful for a son who challenges me,

almost daily.

If he was easy, I wouldn't require the help and guidance of my Savior and Heavenly Father

on how best to reach him.

To raise him.

And to love him in ways he feels it.

I am grateful for miracles in my life.

Big and small.

And though it has been hard lately,

I am grateful for the life slowly growing inside me.

Sometimes, 

I think about what my life would be like if I had not made the decisions I made almost 5 years ago.

Who would I be?

Would my soul have been capable of bearing this cancer journey our family has been on?

If my life, still in turmoil, could have taken any more tragedy?

And then I stop thinking about it.

Because I can't let myself go back there.

I am here now.

And wow, is it an amazing place to be.

The morning my mom shaved her head,

I had already headed out of town when my sister called.

She said, "I feel like I should get mom a present, but what do you get for a situation like this???"

Not even 24 hours earlier, 

with shaking hands,

I paced back and forth around the bathroom.

I waited.

And then just like that, two pink lines appeared on a little stick and our lives changed forever.

So when my sister asked about something to get my mom,

I knew I had to tell her.

I turned around, 

drove home,

and pulled down the newborn storage bin from the garage.

I found a onesie, 

pinned a teal ribbon on it,

and wrapped it.

Since I had captured the moments before, during, and after my mom's hair shaving with my camera,

I thought I'd continue shooting while she opened her gift. 

Her tears that day went from sadness to joy.

And I can't help but think that the timing of it all was divinely inspired.

Bravery

Yesterday my mom text my sister and me a picture.

Of a pile of hair.

Her hair.

After her morning shower.

It was time.

She told Brittany today would be the day.

I knew I wanted to be there,

but with a sick kid home from school, I wasn't sure I would be able to.

Luckily, I have an amazing mother in law who offered to watch him so I could go.

We loaded up and headed East.

When I got there and saw her, 

hair noticeably thinner,

patches of scalp now showing,

my heart ached.

She is sick and this was going to be our violent shove into reality.

Family came to support.

Her mother,

nieces,

daughters,

and husband. 

We stood around her as she sat down and covered her face with a towel.

My sister put the razor to her head a few times,

then backed away,

tears running down her cheeks.

"It's okay" my mom said noticing her hesitation.

And so she began. 

Little by little,

hair fell to the floor.

My mother cried into the towel.

Brittany cried as she dropped hair into a pile on the floor.

And I cried behind the lens of my camera.

Apart from sniffles and the sound of the razor, the room was quiet.

And reverent.

And then it was done.

She uncovered her face and smiled.

Sympathetically as if to say she was sorry.

She was still beautiful.

We hugged.

We cried.

We smiled.

And then we tied a scarf on her head and made bread.

Gratitude Monday Tuesday

A day late again.

Oh well.

Yesterday was a pretty great day.

And easy for my heart to be filled with gratitude.

Prayers were answered yesterday.

Temple promptings were confirmed.

And so today, I am grateful for the temple.

About four and half years ago, I lived only 5 minutes from the Gila Valley Temple.

It was a defining time of my life.

Decisions needed to be made.

Big decisions.

Life altering decisions.

And not just life altering for me,

life altering for a two year old Camden as well.

With a built in babysitter,

I had the opportunity to attend the temple a lot.

I spent hours in the celestial room.

Crying.

Praying.

Begging for answers.

For direction.

And though big promptings were never felt,

peace was.

Comfort was.

And though resounding answers never came,

love did.

Humility did.

Several months ago as I struggled with a question,

frustration and doubt filled my heart.

After one particularly hard morning, I decided to go to the temple.

In the celestial room I cried.

And prayed.

And listened.

And this time, the answer did come.

A simple one word answer.

I drove home feeling such gratitude for a Heavenly Father who listened to me,

comforted me,

answered me.

Over the course of the next few months, 

I had to rely on faith.

Faith on what I felt in the temple.

The answer I felt in my heart.

Doubts came and I wondered if I really did hear what I heard.

Maybe it was just my mind telling myself what I wanted to hear.

But I patiently waited.

And yesterday, that one word answer was confirmed.

I thought about my experience in the temple that day.

I thought about the faith that was required of me.

I thought about how blessed I am to have a place I can go where the veil of this life is a little thinner and my Heavenly Father and Savior are a little closer.

Where peace,

and hope,

and love abound.

And my soul can rest.