Survivor's Guilt Compounded

Fertility was an issue for me. I have 3 living children after 8 pregnancies. There isn't really a day that passes in which I am not keenly aware of this at some point, a day in which I don't feel the empty spots. I no longer cry every day, but I still take a beat when I answer people about how many children I have, or when I answer questions about the births of my children (when I know people are asking about living children). Sometimes swallowing the lump in my throat or succeeding in speaking around it is challenging enough to make me eyes burn with tears I will try hard not to shed.

I no longer blame myself or feel betrayed by my own body. I have allowed the Atonement to work in my life enough to know that I am not responsible for the absence of those babies here. I think of them. I hope that they know me, and that I will someday know them. I miss them. I know that I am a better person because of them. I know that I have much to give to others because they existed. I try not to let any of this make it awkward for others at any time. It is often more difficult to hold it together when others become awkward.


Imagine how I felt when my sweet youngest child, my only son, came to me one evening after family prayer and cried out, "Why couldn't you make any of those other babies live?" The tears and the lump in my throat, and the ringing in my ears were instant. Through the fog of feeling as if I'd just sustained a major blow to the head, I could just hear his little voice telling his daddy how much he'd like to have a brother. I know I wasn't moving, and I couldn't speak. I just sat there until he'd gone to bed. Nick turned out the light and pulled the covers over himself, silently. I wept and wept that night. Those missing babies have never held the same weight for Nick and I. They were never real for him, and he didn't experience their passings as I did. None of them were born living, and so he has been unable to recognize their reality. It remains a lone canyon between us, no bridge in sight, only the long way round, or sprouting wings to fly. He held me, silently.

This event has percolated in my heart and mind for nearly 3 months. I haven't spoken of it to anyone because I am afraid of their awkward. I haven't written it down because it feels so lonely when paper is the only one listening. I haven't prayed on it since the first night because I suddenly felt angry that God was the only one who could hear and understand when my husband is right here, and they were his as much as mine. I don't want to feel angry. I don't want to stare at that canyon, an ugly gash in my otherwise happy marriage.

The Day I Waited For

As an Unconventional Mo (see a couple blogs back) I did many things my own way, rather than the way that was always expected, or the way "everyone else was doing it." The biggest choice that affected my path and my life was in marrying a non-member. Though my husband was baptized right after our marriage, it still meant I ended up making unforeseen sacrifices in my own spiritual growth. For instance, I didn't get to go to the temple right away for my own endowment. Through the years I took the temple prep classes 6 times, always expecting to go to the temple, but every bishop wanted me to wait and to go with my husband when he was ready. Many years later, I grew impatient with the waiting, and feeling like I was being held up in my spiritual growth and blessings. I finally had a bishop ready to move me forward....and then he was released as bishop. And the new bishop became a real challenge for me in so many ways. Move forward 6 years, and we got another new bishop, and I went to him with my same earnest plea. The night he gave me the go ahead to take the temple prep class again and plan to attend the temple, I broke down crying. The overwhelming feelings of finally being able to take that step were powerful. Bishop Pressler and my husband just stood and watched my speechless weeping for several minutes, and then both hugged me in turn.

Once I received my recommend, what followed was a number of events that seemed especially designed to test my character, and to test my reliance on the Spirit. The biggest obstacle was a particular, tenacious human thorn in my side surfaced yet again, expressing hatred and ignorance and, frankly, acting as if he knows better than my own bishop and stake president regarding my testimony or my worthiness to hold a recommend and enter the temple. In the form of a very longwinded, preposterous letter, this person was a tool in Satan's hand. It could have made me feel anger, outrage, sadness, disharmony....it could have kept me from feeling the Spirit. But all I could do was laugh. I didn't even finish reading the letter because it was just too foolish. There was just one paragraph that struck me a bit, and I addressed that with a prayer and a call to my step-sister, Leigha, for clarification. In the course of that call, my one fear was laid to rest, and I began to joyfully plan for my visit to the house of the Lord.

Some days, the wait was hard, but there is more preparation that must occur once the recommend is in hand, and it felt just a bit like preparing for a wedding day. There were certain special guests and escorts to invite, clothing to choose, etc. and so I looked at that time as a gift to prepare for a day I would not forget, and in which I did not have to look back on wishing I'd done something differently. Leigha came down for a couple days with 3 out of 4 nephews and nieces, and she was my chosen escort on temple day. Other special guests included Cathy Snow, Whitney Moody, and her husband, Jack. Whitney and Jack had just recently been sealed together with their children in the temple.

The feelings of that day were very special, and I promised myself I would return frequently to learn all I can and to keep those feelings with me as much as possible. At the end, Cathy Snow came and squeezed me and said some kind words which triggered a flood of emotion and tears. Leigha sat quietly next to me, holding my hand until I was composed enough to talk, and then we talked about what brought that on...how Cathy had been there in the role of a mother, and how much it hurts that my own mother can't seem to be there for me in that way, in the way that I need her to be there for me as a grown woman with a family of my own. It was a good moment for Leigha and I, and it sparked conversations that helped each of us understand one another a little better and grow closer.

I have returned to the temple several times since February, and since it was announced that the Memphis Temple will be closing for up to 2 years for major renovations, I have committed myself to weekly visits until October. After that, the nearest temples are Birmingham, Nashville, and St. Louis and planning a trip will be much more challenging, given the distance and the nature of working on-call. My husband has done all he can to make sure my weekly visits are possible, and I'm sure he doesn't know how much that means to me, but I know he feels the difference in our home when I return. I know he takes me seriously when I ask him to remember I'll be returning from the temple, and that transitioning back into worldly chaos and disorder is jarring, and to please minimize contention, etc. at home while I am away, so that I can bring home the good feelings of the temple for everyone to share.