Tomorrow and Sunday we will be blessed to hear from living prophets! One of my favorite weekends of the year, it promises to be a spiritual feast.
Please join us!
Please join us!






I'm in the third trimester of my third pregnancy and while things are going well, I'm absolutely miserable. I feel like I can barely walk around. Each pregnancy has gotten harder for me and I just don't know if I can ever do this again. How in the world have you been able to do this nine* times?First, let me tell you that I sympathize with you. I felt the same way during my third pregnancy, and each one has been miserable in its own way (though there are three months in the middle of each one that are simply wonderful). Pregnancy is exhausting and emotionally trying. As mortals, we all want to avoid that which makes us miserable, and it takes a good bit of faith and courage to face pregnancy again, knowing just how hard it can be.

"In the 1950s my mother survived radical cancer surgery, but difficult as that was, the surgery was followed with dozens of painful radiation treatments in what would now be considered rather primitive medical conditions. She recalls that her mother taught her something during that time that has helped her ever since: “I was so sick and weak, and I said to her one day, ‘Oh, Mother, I can’t stand having 16 more of those treatments.’ She said, ‘Can you go today?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, honey, that’s all you have to do today.’ It has helped me many times when I remember to take one day or one thing at a time.”Ana, I think, made this point better than I could: I am NOT fond of pregnancy but I go through it because of the end product. I used to want seven children and when I was 20 weeks with my fourth pregnancy I was sitting in church feeling absolutely miserable when it suddenly dawned on me that if I wanted seven children I was only half way there. I felt like bawling. I felt like all my future pregnancies were descending on me RIGHT THEN. If I could go back and talk to myself I would tell myself to stop worrying about future pregnancies--to basically let them take care of themselves. Don't try and take on the pains of pregnancies yet to be (beyond getting competent medical advice) before you face them. Do what you need to do today and if you need the strength for more pregnancies/children (we have nine now), it will be there. You do yourself absolutely no favors to borrow anxiety from the future. I feel like I wasted so much time wondering how many more children we'd have, when could I be "done", etc. I am continually amazed at how the Lord has blessed us to be able to do what we are doing. I could never have envisioned it back then when I was pregnant with number four. (In fact, in many ways, that was a harder time period with just those three little ones than now is with nine.)
As for me, I’ve been struggling for over a month with feelings of worn-out-hood (isn’t that a great word?). I’ve been tired of being pregnant and exhausted and feeling like I’m accomplishing so little beyond the basics. The thought of more pregnancies after this one has been absolutely overwhelming and I’ve found myself thinking, “I don’t know if I can do this again,” and “Haven’t I done enough already?” And while I know that I’m doing the will of God with this pregnancy and I’ve committed to bearing the others He is willing to send (I know there is at least one more), I’ve been deeply discouraged by my own weakness and resentment of late – “the Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak,” is how I’d describe myself. I’ve been praying often for a better perspective, more patience, and that I won’t be so resentful.Now that Cami's here, I have felt the truth of what I wrote to my friend impress on me. For me, it's spring again. Sure, I'm tired and sleep-deprived. But otherwise? Life is wonderful. I'm not pregnant! I can move! I've been running! And I have a precious new addition to our family to enjoy. Life is good. (But still, I'm with Jenifer -- the thought of being pregnant again makes me want to puke. I'm trying not to think about it right now).
At the same time, I’ve been aware of my blessings. My family is at a good place right now. I don’t have huge discipline or school-related problems with any of my kids; the chores and routines we have keep the house in pretty good order; if I don’t feel up to cooking, Lillian, Joey, or DH can do it; my three preschoolers get along amazingly well; etc. I’ve even become aware (I’m sure it’s the Holy Ghost helping me as I’ve prayed over and over again for help) of how much “extra” time I have that doesn’t have to be used. In other words, how much time I’ve been blessed with that I use right now for rest and sitting around because I’m too tired for much else. It reminds me that though I feel exhausted a lot, my family really isn’t suffering because of it.
I’ve also felt those prayers answered in other ways. For example, this week I was thinking about Mary and how I’m sure pregnancy was a struggle for her – not to mention the delivery in poor conditions! – and I was thinking how much easier it would be for me if I could remember and know more about this child. Wouldn’t all the sacrifice be worth it if I knew who this child was to become and what her purpose was on earth? After all, I wouldn’t give a single one of my amazing children back now that I know who they are and a little bit of what they can become. The scripture that came to my mind strongly as I pondered on these things was, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me.” It may sound simple, but for me that was profound, to remember and realize that no matter who this child becomes, my gift to her, freely given, is as if I were carrying the Savior himself. With that thought in my mind, I find my resentment starting to melt away and I’m feeling anew that this is a privilege.
Today as I was cleaning (doesn’t the best kind of revelation always come while cleaning?), I was thinking about this stage in my life and I realized that for me, this is simply winter, both physically and emotionally. The seasons of my life this year corresponded really well with what was happening in nature. In the spring, I reawakened with renewed energy and dedication to goals and I tackled them wholeheartedly, planting the seeds of better fitness and enjoying so many other abundant blessings after a hard winter. Summer was the time I worked hard in my garden of life, pushing through the morning sickness to continue to train for my marathon and keep up with my other responsibilities. It was difficult, sure, but I could see at the same time the fruits of my labors beginning to form. Fall was a time of harvest, as I ran a marathon and enjoyed renewed vigor as the morning sickness abated and I appreciated my life so much. But now, I’m in a time of winter. The harvest has largely ended and I’m hibernating some of my talents, withdrawing into myself and trying to conserve what little sunlight and energy I’m given every day. I’m not pushing hard towards goals, but that’s appropriate for the season of my life. And while it’s appropriate to mourn the passing of fall and the harvest, it’s important to realize that this time of rest and dormancy is good and right as well. Instead of berating myself for not doing all the things I was doing during the spring, summer or fall, I simply need to let this be and appreciate winter. One gardening book I read a long time ago described the seasons as “planting, growing, harvesting, and planning,” and pointed out that she’s learned to love winter because it’s her dreaming season. She gets to think and ponder over the seed catalogs and choose what she’ll grow and plant next while not really having to do much at all in her garden. I like that analogy as I apply it to my life. Spring will come again, and it might be a challenging one, with a new baby to enjoy and take care of (dare I hope this one sleeps?), and my body will need to be reawakened and invigorated with regular exercise. I’ll get more summers, with the constant chores and overwhelming tasks and busy-ness all around. I’ll also enjoy more falls, with their lovely colors and abundant harvests. But right now, it’s winter. I can decide I hate winter, with its cold and bluster and grayness. Or I can look for things to like about it – the time I have to not worry about my goals and simply let life unfold, for example, or the way I know I’ll appreciate the freedom to move and breath again after this pregnancy is over and I’m not carrying around this huge bump anymore. I always feel so full of energy during those first few post-partum weeks despite waking up with a newborn. It just feels so wonderful not just to enjoy the new baby, but to have the burden of pregnancy so suddenly and amazingly lifted. I think it’s the way spring always brings me such joy – I wouldn’t love spring so much without the gray, cold days of winter.
(me last week -- enjoying NOT being pregnant AND hoping to lose that extra weight around my middle)


