"Armies of Heaven"

This week (Saturday) is Alma's birthday. I've thought about it many times throughout the month, but it hasn't been like in the past where August 1-August 31 is hard. We've just been so busy with moving, Jayze starting law school, Aidan starting kindergarten, and so many other things that I hadn't had time to really sit down and think about Alma's birthday until this past weekend. I knew his birthday was coming up, and I hate waiting last minute, so I wanted a plan for Saturday so I would be prepared.

We talked about it with Aidan and Kimball yesterday during dinner, and decided that we're going to make a cake, maybe drive to the temple, and of course, serve someone (we always try to do some sort of service on Alma's birthday). I also might snag a candle from the store, and that will be that, I thought. It's going to be a great birthday.

Initially when we moved to Snowflake, the thought crossed my mind that we would actually be close to Alma's grave for his birthday this year. Then a couple of months later when we were accepted to law school and I saw the starting date, I realized that we actually weren't going to be there for Alma's birthday, and I was sad about it. "Aw well," I thought. "We can still celebrate from afar like we've always done." And that was that again.

But I woke up this morning, walked to the bathroom, saw that Jayze had written a beautiful quote by Jeffrey R. Holland on our bathroom mirror, and I lost it. 

 "In the gospel of Jesus Christ you have help from both sides of the veil, and you must never forget that. When disappointment and discouragement strike—and they will—you remember and never forget that if our eyes could be opened we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see riding at reckless speed to come to our protection. They will always be there, these armies of heaven, in defense of Abraham's seed."

~Jeffrey R. Holland~

As I read that quote - When disappointment and discouragement strike - with tears burning my eyes and a sob caught in my throat, I thought about holding Alma. I thought about having to say goodbye SO many times and hating it. I thought about seeing the autopsy stitches all over his tiny body and feeling so badly for him, feeling like I failed as a mom. I thought about how I should have a 7-year-old going to school this year. I thought about having to explain to my kids that they have a brother in heaven, and since I haven't had the heart to show them pictures yet - I haven't felt like it's the right time yet - they don't quite understand the concept. I thought about how we just had to bury their Papa this year and Alma being gone is just another reminder that another person we love isn't here. The concept of how anyone can die at any moment has been a struggle for me, let alone teaching it to my kids and having them see it firsthand. 

I guess I just didn't realize how much I was struggling. "I'm beautiful. I'm strong. I can do this," I've been telling myself since our last couple of weeks in Kansas. And this past weekend regarding Alma's birthday, "It's okay. I feel a little bit sad, but I'm strong. I got this."

It's important to say that to myself - it helps me get through. But in reality, it's also important to say, "This is hard, and I'm struggling. I'm sad and discouraged and feel defeated, but God's got this. God is strong. God's got me." With God, I can do anything. 

"...you have help from both sides of the veil, and you must never forget that...you remember and never forget that if our eyes could be opened we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see riding at reckless speed to come to our protection. They will always be there, these armies of heaven, in defense of Abraham's seed."

My dad is a part of the ones "riding at reckless speed to come to [my] protection" now, and so is Alma. I imagine them up there cracking jokes, having joy in the paradise they enjoy, anxiously waiting for our turn, and wanting to help us in any way they can. I'm grateful for them. I'm grateful I'm not alone.

If there's anything I could say to anyone is that we really are NOT alone. Satan tries his best to isolate us, whether it's from us feeling shame about a sin or us feeling lonely in our grief, but that's not truth. God never leaves His children alone. Work hard to come unto Him, and He'll be there. I haven't been able to do any of this without him. And I won't be able to do this week without Him - at least not with true peace and joy. 

So I'm entering this week with courage. Courage to cry when I need to and then stand back up again and keep moving forward. Courage to be happy AND sad. Courage to find peace and healing amidst this ocean of grief. Courage to remember. YOU can have courage too, no matter what you're going through. Trying matters, and you WITH God got this. Keep moving forward one step at a time - there really is joy to be found in the journey. 

Love All Around

We're all sick around here (not Jayze, though - yay!). Yet, even with the sickness, I can't help but think of how much I love my family. This sickness has forced me to slow down and forgo my to-do lists - and I'm all about lists - for a couple of days and really live each moment with intention and purpose.

Purpose in giving my little ones Tylenol to help bring their fevers down. Purpose in giving two, aching boys a much-needed and fun bath. Purpose in wiping snot-covered noses again and again. Purpose in watching Aidan hop around and play with his cars even though I can tell he's not feeling very well. Purpose in bouncing and rocking a fussy baby, praying for him to fall asleep because I know it will help him feel better. Purpose in changing diapers, in soothing painful cries, and in digging deep for patience. Purpose and intention in all of these moments that make love more apparent in the seemingly tedious moments of parenting.

Love was apparent when last night, I fell asleep exhausted, still in my jeans, and Jayze got up this morning to feed Kimball so I could keep sleeping even though he's driving six hours today. It was there when while Kimball finally fell asleep for his morning nap, and Aidan and I snuggled on the couch, held hands, and watched a movie together. I recognized it in the way Kimball hasn't wanted me to put him down more than a few minutes because he is so miserable and wants a comforting touch.

Love was all around me yesterday when the sickness really took its toll, and it's continued into today. Which is fitting, since today is Valentine's Day.

I am grateful for my little family. I am grateful for the abundance of love in each of my boys' tiny in size, but huge in sweet tenderness, hearts. I am grateful for moments like today when, even though sickness abounds and we're all kind of miserable (especially Kimball), there is still so much love in our small apartment.

But mostly, I'm grateful for the love of an all-knowing, all-caring, all-loving Heavenly Father. I am grateful for the love of His Son, Jesus Christ, who loved me so much that He suffered and died for me. They have never let me down. They have never left me alone. They have never left me comfortless. They have never given up on me. I hope that I can become more like them and respond to my children and brothers and sisters like They would. I know I can't respond in the perfect way They do because I'm definitely not perfect, but I'm grateful I can try and They can help me try and succeed. I hope that I can remember to respond to their love in a way that I recognize it even in hard moments and in a way that I'm grateful for it even when I don't necessarily feel it.

So even though my expectations of doing Valentine's Day crafts with Aidan and Kimball, making a delicious dinner, and getting out of the house and doing something fun because I actually have the car today are pretty much down the drain, I'm okay with it because this is where I'm supposed to be and it's where joy and love can still be found.

"We are surrounded by people who desperately need someone to lift them. Some may be friends. Some may be strangers. All are our brothers and sisters. 

So let's try a little harder. Let's reach out a little farther. Let's lift a little higher. They are depending on us. God is depending on us, for 'we are the Lord's hands here upon the earth, with the mandate to serve and to lift His children.'

Our individual efforts may seem-a kind act here, a selfless sacrfice there-but collectively our small efforts can make a big difference in the lives of others. And in the end, those who spend their lives lifting others will themselves be 'lifted up at the last day."

(LDS.org Blog Staff)

My Alma Wreath

The day after we found out Alma passed away, we had many heartbreaking and surreal decisions to make. One of them was where to bury our baby.

My first instinct was to bury him in Idaho. It was where Jayze and I lived and had already made so many special memories, we could visit him anytime we wanted, and, frankly, it was the most convenient. Plus, I honestly didn't even think it was possible to have him buried anywhere else because I didn't think we had the resources to make all of the arrangements for that.

However, after talking to our families, we found out that it was possible to bury him somewhere other than Idaho. Although, upfront, it would be less convenient and more heart-wrenching, we knew that burying him in Arizona was where he was supposed to be. In our heart of hearts, we knew that Rexburg was temporary, whereas Arizona was more permanent. Both sets of our parents live in the same town, so it was more likely we would have more opportunities to visit our baby boy once we no longer lived in Rexburg.

I wasn't sure how it was all going to work out, but through many earthly (and, I'm sure, heavenly) angels and tender mercies, it all did. All the nitty, gritty details worked out, as well as bigger issues. We were so blessed and grateful and knew we weren't alone.

Now, three years and a half years later, I'm glad that Alma is buried in Snowflake. I wish I was able to visit him anytime. It's hard not taking Aidan and Kimball on a regular basis to go see him, too, but I'm grateful he has loved ones nearby who can and do visit him and leave flowers and decorations.

My mom and Jayze's mom send me pictures from time to time of Alma's graveside. It's usually decked out in the decor of the season: spring flowers, fall leaves, snowmen figurines, summer daisies, and a "Happy Birthday" sign in August. Seeing the pictures always make me tear up and wish we lived closer. But I'm grateful others are there to give him love when I can't be there in person.

When Alma was first buried there, I remember before Jayze and I left for the Phoenix Airport to go back to Rexburg, I wanted to see him one more time. So we drove to the cemetery and, hand-in-hand, walked to where he was buried. The fresh mound of dirt was the only thing marking our baby's burial place. It was then that I realized I didn't have anything for him. No headstone, no flowers, nothing. My arms and hands felt even emptier. I had to leave some token of love for my sweet baby boy before flying miles away from him. I knelt down on the soft mound and with my finger I drew, "We love you," with a heart. It was still more difficult than I can express to walk away, but leaving something there helped.

A few days later, my parents texted and asked if they could put a small, homemade metal plate to mark Alma's graveside. That was the beginning of the outpouring of love Alma would receive on his grave.

I'm grateful for my mom and Jayze's mom who, after the first set of decorations had been up for awhile, offered to put them in a box and save them for us. When I first saw and held the decorations, I couldn't help but get teary-eyed at all the love and support. We really weren't alone, and Alma wasn't forgotten. We toted the box back with us to Rexburg and put it with Alma's other things. I knew I wanted to keep the small treasures, but I didn't want them to just sit in a box in storage. In essence, I wasn't sure what to do with them.

When we finally made it to Kansas and things settled down a little bit, I started making our little apartment into a home. We found some couches and a coffee table, Jayze assembled our black bookshelves, I arranged and re-arranged bookshelf decorations, and we worked together to fit Aidan's toddler bed and Kimball's crib in the kid's bedroom. I hung up some pictures, and organized our closets (still in the process, haha).

One day as I was organizing our front closet, I found the box full of Alma's graveside decorations again. I stopped for a minute to look through them. As I touched the leaves and flowers and picked up the figurines, the thought came to me, "Why not make a wreath?"

Background: I've wanted to make a wreath ever since Jayze and I got married and just never got around to it. I love wreaths and other door decorations because it's kind of like a, "Welcome to my home!" before stepping inside. Well, this was my perfect excuse to buy a lovely grapevine wreath (they smell sooo good) and break out the glue gun.

Once the kids went down for a nap, I pulled up Pinterest for inspiration and went to work designing my own, custom wreath. I have to admit, it was hard pulling the leaves and flowers off. I didn't want to ruin them! I prayed and crossed my fingers everything would work out.

And it did! I tied a piece of twine in a loop in the back and hung up my new wreath on my front door. I love how it turned out. It feels wonderful and makes me happy to see another touch of Alma in our home.

During the past three and a half years, I've thought many times how such a small person with such a short life could make such an impact on others...and on me. I've thought of how Alma's life has helped me pause and reflect on the sacred moments life gives us every single day. How his life has caused me to be more service-oriented and caring towards others. How his life has shown me the good in others and how willing people are to give of their time, talents, and love. How his life has taught me to love being a mother and to not take it for granted. How his life has increased my love for his siblings. It's been humbling, to say the least.

Tomorrow will be the third Thanksgiving without him. Lately, seeing Aidan play and interact more with Kimball has made me ponder what it would be like to have Alma here. I wonder what it would be like to see three of my children physically play together. I wonder what it would be like to convince two toddlers to go to bed and hear them giggle together. I wonder what it would be like to see my two older boys fawn over their baby brother.

I think that all of the wondering has brought some sadness, but it's also filled me with gratitude. I'm so grateful I've been able to have more children. And not just more children, but children HERE. Here to raise and love on. Here to teach and discipline. Here to pray, cuddle, and play with. Here to practice motherhood on.

I'm so grateful to be a mom to THREE wonderful, sweet, happy boys. I'm grateful for my marriage with Jayze. I'm grateful for the glimpses I get of Alma when they do come. I'm grateful for God's love for me. And I'm grateful that this life isn't the end.

"Regardless of our circumstances, each of us has much for which to be grateful if we will but pause and contemplate our blessings."

~ Thomas S. Monson ~ 

Yesterday

After a series of not-so-good days, yesterday was a perfect day (according to the life of Sarah Flake).

I got to lay in bed for a few precious minutes before taking on the day in my mommy-wife-personal responsibilities. It was glorious.

After not taking a shower for way too many days, I fit in two, separate showers.

Kimball went four hours in-between feedings and took long, regular naps. 

It was the first time bathing Kimball in the kitchen sink without the little bathtub, and it was a success!

The kids and I got in some good playing time, especially Aidan and me. "Mom, play?"

I rocked my exercise, even though I was not feeling it. Some days are just like that. 

I studied my scriptures and even had time to read a regular book, too.

Both kids went down for a nap at the same time, albeit in separate rooms.  

I took both of the kids outside. We took out the trash, paid rent, checked the mail, then had a fun few minutes playing on the grass.  

I had the energy to whip up two beautiful, homemade pizzas. Having an oven has really made baking fun again. 

Aidan scarfed down the beautiful, veggie-loaded pizza. Winner dinner.

Even though Jayze had a spontaneous work dinner, the evening was still fun and relaxing with just me and the kids. 

Aidan let me sing two verses of our bedtime song while rocking him. Afterwards, we laughed at Kimball eating his toes and kicking his legs in the bouncer.  

Both of the kids went to bed in the same room at the same time. (YES!)

I got some veg time in before Jayze came home. Then he helped me with the dishes while we talked about our day. Then we snuggled in bed while still talking about our day. 

It was the most wonderful evening. 

Good days like yesterday make the not-so-good days worth it. I'm grateful for both so I can notice the difference. 

Happy November!

What Matters Most

I was out in the foyer sitting with Aidan because he had screamed yet again during Sacrament Meeting. I held him close and tried to listen to the speaker. He was telling his conversion story, and I always love hearing those. I was only able to hear bits and pieces, but one specific one that made it through caught my attention, "My mother was Catholic and always wanted her son to receive the priesthood. She passed away a few years before I joined the [LDS] Church. She was not able to be there physically when I, her son, eventually received the priesthood...but I know she was there."

That last phrase caught my attention because it was so familiar. I've heard similar phrases so many times from people about their loved ones who have passed on. Phrases like:

 "I know my mom was there at my wedding." 

"I felt my dad close by when I graduated college - one of the dreams he had for me."

"My grandpa is my guardian angel."

I've said phrases like that myself about Alma. He's been there during especially tough moments when I've wanted to give up, and he's also been there during special and sacred moments. I know I have felt him close by.

As I sat there in the foyer and thought about how people are able to feel their loved ones, who have passed on, close by (and this isn't unique just to Mormons), it occurred to me that the veil is thinner than we think. It was probably more of a reminder, but it's true! Sometimes I feel like the veil between me and God and my loved ones is a wrought-iron door, but in reality we have angels all around us. And I think that especially includes our loved ones. Sometimes it's just easy to forget as time goes by.

Because it's so easy to forget, I love moments of remembrance. The moments of silence, remembering and respecting those who have lost their lives for our country, or who lost their lives in a senseless shooting or bombing. Or at funerals and memorial services when people speak softly and reverently, trying to keep the spirit of their loved one close by as long as they can before the day-to-day distractions and hustle and bustle somehow whisk him or her away.

I love those moments because it's when people pause and...remember.

Remember their loved ones.
Remember the event.
Remember that this life is not the end.
Remember that we will get to see our loved ones again!

Ever since Alma passed away, it seemed that people wanted us to move forward...move on...get past this...heal right away...because life goes on whether you want it to or not. After someone you love dies, the world just keeps right on spinning, even though it feels like you're stuck in one spot and you're not ever going to move again. You wonder, how can the world go on and expect you to go on? People want you to be the same and are disappointed when you aren't. But how can one be the same and move on after such a life-altering experience?

The truth is, you can't.

Sometimes I get caught up in the desire to be who I was before Alma died. Retain the innocence I lost and not feel a tightening in my throat every time someone asks me how many children I have. Or be able to say without any hesitancy and a smile on my face, "Three boys," rather than having to say with a brave face, "Two boys, with their brother watching over us in heaven."

But I'll never be the same.

My life changed the minute I saw the positive sign on the pregnancy test, the first time I felt Alma kick, and the moment when the nurse couldn't find his beautiful, perfect heartbeat.

And more and more I'm realizing that it's okay that I'll never be the same.

Looking back on how much Heavenly Father has taught me and shown me, I don't want to be the same. Realizing this reminded me of the story about the class criticizing the Martin handcart company. After hearing the story a few years ago, one survivor's quote stuck with me:

"The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company."

("Refined in Our Trials," James E. Faust, 2006)

I've learned - and am still learning - that becoming acquainted with God is such a beautiful thing. He transforms us through our trials. Heartbreak can be a beautiful thing, because the Savior is there to heal us! He can heal any heartbreak that we encounter, and even more - he helps us along in the process.

 
President Uchtdorf told a sweet story about "Great-Aunt Rose" that touched my heart. This part stood out to me:

"Aunt Rose smiled. 'I discovered faith. And faith led to hope. And faith and hope gave me confidence that one day everything would make sense, that because of the Savior, all the wrongs would be made right. After that, I saw the path before me wasn't as dreary and dusty as I had thought. I began to notice the bright blues, the verdant greens, and the fiery reds, and I decided I had a choice - I could hang my head and drag my feet on the dusty road of self-pity, or I could have a little faith, put on a bright dress, slip on my dancing shoes, and skip down the path of life, singing as I went..."

'Faith in the Savior taught me that no matter what happened in the past, my story could have a happy ending...

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away."

(Revelations 21: 3-4, emphasis added)

Trying to have faith in my Savior has taught me that, like Aunt Rose and despite the tragedy of losing Alma, my story can have a happy ending. The Lord promised that very thing when He said:

"But blessed are they who are faithful and endure, whether in life or in death, for they shall inherit eternal life" (D&C 50:5).  

And that's what I want - eternal life. I want to be with my angel again. I want to hold him in my arms and experience him every.single.day. Until then, Alma helps me keep an eternal perspective. He is our angel on the other side of the veil cheering on his family. He's there encouraging us to not give up so that we can all be together as a family.

Because, really, what matters most on both sides of the veil is family.

Whether you're old, young, married, single, divorced, widowed, male, female, teenager, child...whatever...you have family rooting for you - on both sides. Angels are all around us, give them a chance. Like Aunt Rose, choose faith, hope, and confidence in the Savior, because He is the one who provided a way for us to be with our families again.

Because of Him, I'll get to see my Alma. Because of Him, all wrongs can be made right. Because of Him, all tears will be washed away. Because of Him, joy can be found in the journey now.

 

January 1, 2016

Full Hands

It was a day when it was hard to live in a hotel. 

I felt cooped up, the kids felt cooped up (at least I knew Aidan did). Dinnertime was quickly approaching, but the babe was fussy and wanted to be held and Aidan kept pushing me out of the kitchen wanting me to play with him. All the motivation I had left for making dinner vanished. I gave up and turned on a movie for Aidan so he would be entertained while I fixed up a bottle for Kimball. As I sat in the recliner feeding our precious baby and half-watching the movie with Aidan, feelings of sadness, stress, and anxiety settled over me. Dressed in sweats, hair in a ponytail, and a makeup-free face, I felt bad Jayze would walk in the door any minute to two tired kids and an overwhelmed, unmotivated wife. All I wanted, and felt like I needed, was a break.

When Jayze came home and asked about my day, I asked him if I could pass the baby to him and go lay down on the bed for ten minutes. Just ten minutes. Maybe even five. I just needed even a tiny break from being in the tiny living room all day. Even our tiny bedroom would seem nice and new. Jayze, being the sweet husband he is, offered even more than I asked. He gathered up the kids - Kimball in his car seat and Aidan with sandals on his feet and a toy car in each hand - and took them for a drive around the city.

I was so grateful. I crashed onto our bed and tried to get a few zzzz's. But for some reason I couldn't sleep, so I turned on "Fixer Upper" and vegged on that for a while. My mind finally calmed down enough for me to take a short nap. When I woke up, the hotel room was still empty. Just the sounds from people walking around in the room above us and our A/C running were heard. I lay there for a few minutes soaking in the silence, but then I felt...lonely. I suddenly missed my kiddos and my husband and wanted them to come back. I hoped they were okay. I texted Jayze to tell him I missed them and then thought of my empty arms. Aidan wasn't there crawling around on the bed struggling to climb into them and Kimball wasn't there crying to be held. It was just me.

Ever since we moved to Michigan and have lived in our one-bedroom hotel room, I've tried to get out at least once a day with the kids. We've hit up the zoo, the temple, the park that's twenty minutes away, and the public library (we go there most often because it's close, it's free, and Aidan loves it - he screams his high-pitched scream every time we leave). We've gone downstairs to blow bubbles, gone downstairs to do laundry, gone on walks on the paths around the library, and gone on long drives exploring the city. It's a struggle to get both kids out the door, but once we're out, it's definitely worth it.

It seems that every time I'm out with the kids - Kimball in the baby carrier or in the car seat and Aidan holding my hand in the parking lots - I get the comments:

"Wow, you have your hands full!" 

"How old is your little one?" 

"Two boys? Congratulations, that's wonderful."

I smile and say, with my heart bursting inside and a tinge of sadness, "Yes, yes my hands are full."

And I think, If only they knew.

If only they knew that my hands and arms were so empty a couple of years ago.

If only they knew that I'm a mom to three boys.

If only they knew how broken my heart was.

If only they knew that this young woman lugging around a full diaper bag, a baby in his car seat, and a sweet toddler used to dream of this and ache for it when her dream was shattered by the words, "I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat."

If only they knew that I prayed for these sweet babies after I buried one in the ground.

If only they knew what a struggle it was carrying each of them, hoping and trying to have faith they would make it to my arms alive.

If only they knew of the testimony I had to gain before exercising the faith to try to get pregnant the first time - to want my future to include motherhood.

That everything that includes motherhood is what I am so grateful for - the mess, stress, expense, struggles, tiny hands, pitter-pattering feet, belly laughs, baby smiles, coos, story-time, learning, growing, saying, "no," slobbery kisses, saying, "wuv ooo," prayers, songs - this is what I prayed for.

Having "full hands" to some seems overwhelming. I guess some days it is. But I've also had it the other way, which is also so, so, so overwhelming. Being a stay-at-home mom is hard...but I wouldn't have it any other way because I have had it the other way.

Wanting and needing a break is okay. I think it keeps the whole family sane. But that day in the hotel was a reminder to hold on. Soak in these babies and hold on tightly to them.

It was a reminder of the day I got to hold Alma all day long and how I would give anything to hold him again right now. To have another day with him in my arms.

Some days are long, but the years are short. This time with my precious babies is going by so quickly. It's a reminder to cherish this time because one day down the road when my babies are grown I'll wish people still said to me, "Wow, you have your hands full!"

The Move

Before we knew we got the job and before we had Kimball, I kept getting the impression to start packing even though our plans were kind of up in the air. So, being big and pregnant, I started packing what I could, books, movies, decorations, kitchen stuff we didn't use on a daily basis, etc. Whenever I went shopping, I'd grab any available empty boxes and bring them home while making the goal to pack at least one or two of them a day. It was hard to be motivated because we didn't know if we would get the job and I didn't like packing away our home. But, when all was said and done, I'm grateful I followed that prompting. Although it seemed like a never-ending process, I did get quite a bit done, which helped in the last few days of packing and moving.

Thank goodness Jayze was home so he could help entertain Aidan while I packed, packed...and packed. So.much.stuff. You know that one scene in Harry Potter where they're in the Gringotts Bank and whatever they touch multiplies? Well, it seemed that way with our stuff. I'd pat myself on the back for packing up tons of boxes, then turn around and there was STILL more stuff. Ugh. Moving is not my favorite.

Apparently we're Micky Mouse, Spongebob, and Mike Wazowski fans...

Daddy entertaining while Mommy packs.

Aidan loved these finger puppets from our awesome neighbors. Thanks, Hobbs!

Lots of bubble sessions with this kid. Again, while Mommy is packing...

This cutie slept through most of it. :)

The hardest part was knowing we were going to say bye to the place we called home. Rexburg was where Jayze and I dated and got engaged, bought and sold our first car, had our first apartment together (plus two more), worked on campus while going to school, had our three precious babies, and where we both graduated from college. Lots of milestones, beautiful memories, and wonderful friends were made in Rexburg, and it will always hold a special place in my heart.

Out of the three places we lived, the trailer was by far my favorite. The bishop was great, the ward was welcoming, and our neighbors were so nice. It's where we brought Aidan and Kimball home from the hospital. It also had pretty cheap rent. ;)

Last picture of our home.

Thank you to everyone who brought us dinner, watched Aidan, helped us clean and pack, helped us lug our stuff to storage, brought Aidan and us snacks for the trip, and for all the prayers and kind thoughts sent our way. We really had so many tender mercies along the way, and many earthly angels came to our aide. We could not have done everything we did without so many of our friends' help. 

THANK YOU!

It was definitely bittersweet saying goodbye, but we're grateful for this new direction and path.

Update

Wow, where to start?

Since I last wrote, we officially got a job, packed up and cleaned our whole trailer (minus packing up the actual trailer as well as some odds and ends), gave Kimball his baby blessing, and moved across the country. Whew - I'm tired just thinking about it all over again. But it all turned out really well!

Job:
It was made official a couple of weeks ago - Jayze got a job! Our very first, salary paying job. I love what someone said to us - we're a success story. :) It's just the thing we were hoping for. Jayze is doing a 10-week training program for the position he applied for, and then we're going to be relocated somewhere else for the actual position. So, for now, we're in Michigan! It's been quite the change, but I'm already falling in love with the gorgeous trees and the really nice, welcoming people.

Packed up:
Since we're only going to be in Michigan for 10 weeks, we put the majority of our junk stuff in a storage unit in Idaho and will get it when we move to a more permanent location. But golly, who knew we could horde so much stuff? And it seems like they're all needs, too. Yikes. I'm glad it's all boxed up though, so we don't have to worry about packing it all over again when it comes time to move. And let me tell you, packing and cleaning with a toddler is fun, frustrating, hilarious, and slow. I'm just grateful Jayze was able to help out so much. And my sister. And our neighbors were lifesavers, too. Sometimes it really does take a village.

Aidan's in there somewhere...

Kimball's baby blessing:
Note: Thank you SO MUCH to my amazing sis-in-law, Emily, for the beautiful pictures.

Our last Sunday in Rexburg was June 5. We knew we could wait to give Kimball his baby blessing in our new ward in Michigan, or even in our next location, but we realized we really wanted to give it where all of our friends are, where more family members could attend, and where he was born. Can you believe we have three Idaho babies?

It ended up being the perfect day. The whole McCleve side was able to be there (minus Silas - we missed you!), and we were so, so grateful that Jayze's parents could be there. They were so busy that weekend, and we really appreciated them making the trip to see their new grand baby. We appreciated everyone making the trip. There was so much love and support from both family and friends, and we really felt blessed.

It was a special day. The veil was definitely thin - at least for me - and I could feel Alma close by before, during, and after the blessing. Our three boys are so precious to me. My heart was full, and I'm so grateful for the sweet spirit I felt that day.

Side note: We had a hard time finding a white outfit, so we went with blue. The thing that made me feel better about it is that light blue always reminds me of Alma. So that little outfit helped me keep my first son in mind throughout the whole day.

Moved across the country:
This should be a whole blog post in and of itself (and it probably will be). Did you know that it is 25 hours from Rexburg to Michigan? 25 hours! Yep, I'm surprised we made it, too. Aidan was a total champ, though. He was good for the most part (I mean, who doesn't have meltdowns when they have to be in the car 10+ hours a day?) And Kimball only had meltdowns when he was hungry or had a wet diaper. I'd call that a success.

I think it helped, too, that we broke it up in three days. But by the third day, I think all of us were ready to be out of the car. Thank goodness for juice, a DVD player, toy cars, a patient husband, and a pacifier. #reallife.

Okay, he is just the cutest. And I love Kimball there in the background.

But seriously, does anyone have any good advice for how to keep your child's head from dangling when he or she falls asleep in the car seat? It was the most frustrating thing - I felt so bad for Aidan when he tried to sleep.

I kept trying to stuff a blanket by his head for a little cushion. It worked for a couple of minutes...

So now we're in Michigan starting this new chapter in our lives. I'm excited to see how it all unfolds.

Pregnancy Update: 36 Weeks

This past week has been a little bit of an emotional roller coaster. It seems that the closer I get to having this baby, the more anxious I get. I get flashbacks of what happened with Alma. And while I love remembering Alma - the moments when I had him and got to hold him - I don't love what happened. It was so hard, and right now my due date is looming. We're so excited to have this baby, but it's taking more and more effort to be excited rather than just wanting it to be over with. I'm trying to not let fear take over and trying to envision taking another baby home, but some days are better than others. So, like my last pregnancy, I'm focusing on the good this week:

Doctors and Nurse Practioners: 
My doctors and nurse practioners are the best. When I go to doctor appointments, I feel loved and cared for. After doing the routine checkup, one of my doctors asked me how my head was. I took a deep breath while tears pooled in my eyes and answered, "Um, okay," and could only nod after that. He let me know that they are in this with me. I'm not alone. Everyone wants a good outcome - a baby in my arms I can take home with me. I am in their prayers. It was just what I needed to hear. I'm so grateful for my doctors.

Warm Weather:
With Alma and Aidan, I was in my third trimester throughout the entire summer. This time around, it's been fun to be in my third trimester with summer right around the corner. It makes me look forward to walking outside with Aidan and the new baby, as well as having precious sunlight stream through my windows.

Ultrasounds:
The other day I told the ultrasound tech, "These just kill me! They make me want to hold my baby right now!" It's been the best being able to see my baby so often. The other day he had his tiny fist clenched and close to his face, and it was just the sweetest thing.

Braxton Hicks:
Just this past week I've had lots of Braxton Hicks. They put me into major nesting mode. I told my mom, "All of a sudden, I feel like I need to make freezer meals, wash baby clothes, set up the pack 'n play, and vacuum my whole house!" In fact, I want to vacuum every single day "just in case." Yes, definitely in major nesting mode.

Which leads me right into the next point...

Prepping for the Baby:
There's something so hard about prepping for a baby after losing a baby. I hated packing all of Alma's things away. We also left the crib up for a couple of months after he was born with the glider and ottoman right by it. I would get home from school, sit in the glider while holding his blanket, and just cry. So, it really does take an act of faith preparing for the baby. There's always the "what if" in the back of my mind. But a couple of days ago I got out the baby clothes, bibs, wash cloths, tiny socks, and blankets and washed, dried, folded, and put them all away. It was a first step to preparing and has made me want to keep preparing.

p.s. Those baby clothes are tiny! I can't believe Aidan was that small!

Sleep:
I'm so grateful Aidan sleeps through the night, because I'm already up every 3-4 hours going to the bathroom and waking up from crazy dreams. I'm trying to take advantage of the sleep I get now, but also mentally prepare for not getting sleep when the baby gets here.

P90X Stretch:
Who knew pregnant people could do P90X? :) Yesterday, Jayze and I decided to exercise during Aidan's naptime. We popped in P90X Stretch, and it felt wonderful! Even though I wasn't able to do some of the stretches, I was able to do a majority of them. It was just what my body and mind needed.

Prayers and Scriptures:
As I've really tried to pray and study my scriptures daily, I have felt an abiding peace. The Lord is with me. No matter what happens, He won't let me down. He has never let me down. He is with me every step of the way, and I am so grateful for Him. Whenever I'm struggling, it seems like the scriptures I read that day were written just for me. And they were! Whenever I get down on my knees and pour out my heart, I feel my Savior's love. I'm so, so grateful for prayers and scriptures.

This is an exciting time. I'm excited to see Aidan be an older brother, excited to smell that glorious newborn smell, excited to change millions of diapers a day, and excited to be a mom all over again.

I'm trying to be aware of the small and simple things in my life - baby kicks, milestones Aidan reaches, Jayze getting to be home more now that he's graduated, time with friends, sweet and tender mercies...these moments are small but make up to become big, beautiful things in my life. And what a beautiful life it is.

Spit-up in my Hair

Right now my house is cluttered with school papers and textbooks, dishes are scattered across the counter and fill up my kitchen sink, the heater is on for the millionth time because it's a whopping 14 degrees outside, and my Christmas tree (although packed up and in its box) is still not put away.  

But tonight my hair smells like spit-up. Baby blankets litter my living room floor. Clean baby bottles lay on a towel by the kitchen sink. And my sweet baby boy lies on his play gym making cooing sounds and sometimes hitting the little toys that hang above his head. 

It's nights like tonight when I count my blessings. The blessing that my heater works, that I can earn a great education at a wonderful college, that I have dishes to wash, and that I have my dream come true right by me in my living room: a healthy, strong, chunky, baby boy. 

And for the reminder from the spit-up in my hair. that my arms are no longer empty, my heart is healing, and God is good. 

Feeling Blessed With This Little Guy in My Life