Epiphany

This week has been tough for me.  First day of school.  Max wouldn't have even been near old enough to go to school, but I couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that we won't have these firsts with him.  It broke my heart.  I just tried to stay busy all week, and did a pretty good job at that.  My sister-in-law and her husband moved back here from Oklahoma.  They have a 6 month old that I love and adore.  My brother-in-law started his job, and she will start this upcoming week.  I've somehow taken it upon myself to keep her busy and feeling happy.  I probably shouldn't have, but I did.  So, I've been trying to keep us busy and find things to do.  I didn't realize how much it was wearing on me.  Sometimes, I wake up and realize I need to take care of myself sometimes too.  The last two days, I've realized that.  But, I don't know how to do it.  I started going on walks after I get my daughter on the bus.  I think that's been helping.  It's also been difficult to have a baby around a lot.  Like I've said in past posts, the second year, and now the third year, have been harder for me than the first.  I'm experiencing the emotions I thought I would in the first year after losing Max.

I also had an epiphany at church a couple weeks ago.  I've been struggling to feel the spirit, and find myself not really wanting to go to church.  First off, I realized I don't want to go to church, because I feel like I can't open up and cry and grieve.  It's embarrassing for me to cry in front of others. We live with my in-laws and go to church with them, and I don't feel like I can truly grieve in front of my mother-in-law.  I think she thinks it shouldn't still be affecting me as much as it is.  I get so frustrated when people don't understand that this is something I'm never going to get over.  I will always have pain.  I will always be grieving.  I think about Max every single day.  I certainly hope this pain lessens with time, but right now, it's still pretty fresh.  The other thing I realized is that I'm jealous of all the new moms at church.  Anyone that has a baby, I'm jealous.  I'm envious.  While I don't want to be, and I know it's not right, it's not how God wants me to feel, I can't help feeling this way,  However, ever since I've realized this, I try really hard to count my blessings, and know that I will get to see Maximus again someday.  I remember that I do have two beautiful children alive with me today, which is two more than some people can say.  I remember that these little babies have a mom and dad, an eternal family, and so do I.  I'm trying to accept this and move forward, and I think I have a little.  I just try to stop myself from feeling jealous whenever I see it happening.  I am happy that these women get to have their beautiful babies, and I'm so grateful that they don't have to go through what we went through.  It's hard to accept reality and try to push forward.  I know this post has been a little scattered, just like my thoughts and emotions recently.  Hopefully I'll be able to write better and more clearly soon.  Right now, this is where I process some of my emotions and write down how I'm feeling.  Please be patient with me.

Max's 2nd Angelversary

I'm down today.  It's almost a week after Max's 2nd Angelversary, and I finally found some time to myself to just grieve.  We have a box of items in remembrance of Max, lot's of cards, a couple books, pictures.  I've been wanting to look through those, and finally did so today.  I got a good cry out, which I think I've been holding in for ages.  I know it's not healthy.  I don't want to make others sad though.  I didn't grieve as much as I wanted to on Max's angelversary, because I didn't want my parents to be sad, I didn't want our kids to feel sad, I didn't want my husband to be more sad than he already was.  Maybe that's not the best approach.  I guess I don't want people to see how much I'm actually struggling.  I don't want to be struggling and hurting as much as I am.  I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest when I really sit down and grieve.  It just hurts so bad.  I wish it didn't hurt as much anymore.  I almost feel like I did right after his loss.  I read through a letter from Share parents that talked about how the initial grieving process can last three years.  I think I'm in the midst of that right now.  Things have calmed down some since we moved back from Louisiana, and I've had more time to ponder and remember Max.  I think that's why I'm struggling so much right now.  Here are some of my thoughts this past week.
I struggled in the days leading up to Max's angelversary and on the day, though not as much as I thought I would.  I have found this year more difficult in regard to Max than last year.  I think that's, because last year, we lived in a completely new environment and were struggling to make ends meet at first.  Then, we were both in jobs that we did not like very much.  We were a couple thousand miles away from our families and support system.  I also think I've been struggling because we've been surrounded by family from out of town, and I just haven't had a lot of time to myself to process things.  We've also had two 5-7 month old babies around.  I love my nephews so much, and I'm so happy for their parents, especially my sister-in-law since they've been trying for so long,  But, I can't help but be reminded of what I didn't get with Maximus.  It doesn't help matters that I have to work 9 days straight, which started Monday.  It's going to be a tough week, but I think it will go fast, because I'm so busy with life.
Onto Max's day.  We brought some of the things that were super important to us to the grave.  Molds of his hands and feet, pictures, a stuffed bear with a cross stitched bib from a friend of ours, a small blue bear that was wrapped around some flowers another friend sent us, pictures and a small willow tree figurine of an infant sitting.  My sister-in-law and her husband also gave us some roses to put on his grave.  We brought some pinwheels and bubbles.  My parents brought a bob head squirrel, a bucket and pail with flowers, two butterflies and some balloons.  The kids blew bubbles when we first got there while we were waiting for my parents.  We released balloons soon after my parents got there.
My husband said that while we were at the cemetery releasing balloons, someone was talking to him, Max was talking to him.  Max told him, "Daddy, you can let me go.  I could have stayed and fought, but I chose to go.  It's no one's fault." Max told him, what kind of life would I have had if I had been born?  A question for my husband to ponder on.  I really think that if Maximus had been born, he would have been born with cerebral palsy.  What kind of life would that have been?  I wish I had heard that little voice too.  My husband thinks it's because I'm so sad right now.  I'm not feeling much else.  I tend to agree.  I've felt numb and empty a lot lately.  I try to go to church and feel the spirit, but I don't feel it much.  I want to.  I think I'm not relying on the Lord enough, and using His Atonement to get through this.  I guess I haven't figured out how to do that yet.  
I'm going to start searching the scriptures and conference talks more.  If anyone has anything that has helped them through the grieving process, please leave a comment.  I'd appreciate it.  I'm hoping that after my time to grieve today that I can push forward and start feeling happy more.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not suicidal or anything, and I do feel happiness, it's just not as much as I'd like to.  I want to spend time with my kids and just enjoy being with them, playing with them.  Anyway, here's to hoping I can find some peace soon.  Here are some pictures from our day remembering Maximus.

Rebirth

I've been wanting to start a blog for a long time now, almost two years in fact, about our loss.  I hope that you are not reading this blog because of your loss, but if you are, know that there is one person who knows how you feel, Jesus Christ.  He understands how you feel, knows how you feel.  He's the only one that actually knows how you feel.  If you haven't lost a child, please be aware that there are more people in your life than you realize that have had a loss.  This is one of the reasons I started this blog, awareness.

Every loss is different for every person.  People in same families handle grief very differently from each other.  Sometimes, people may not even consider your loss a loss.  I know I was guilty of that years ago when my sister-in-law had a miscarriage.  I didn't see it as a big deal, and I still haven't experienced a miscarriage, but now I get it.  Losing a child through stillbirth is different, yes, but you still have dreams and hopes for an unborn child, no matter how far along you were.

I know many people don't consider our loss a loss, or even understand how we can still become grief-stricken two years later.    They may say that Max was never really alive, so therefore, he wasn't a real person.  We didn't really lose anyone.  But we did.  We lost our son; we lost the opportunity to watch him grow, to watch him learn, to watch him evolve.  He may not have been real to others, but I felt him grow inside me; I watched my belly get bigger day after day.  It's a hard loss, to constantly wonder if it was your fault, if there was anything you could have done differently to bring this child into the world safely, if there was something you did to cause this.  What if, what if, what if?  I don't know if those feelings will ever go away.  They have lessened over time, but there are days and moments when I feel my chest crushing at the loss of our second son, and I feel as though it's my fault.  Other days, I feel pretty "normal", but I think about Max on a daily basis.  I guess I'm just able to cope differently now.

I say differently, because I'm not sure it's actually better.  I think I've buried a lot of my feelings, and I'm hoping this blog will help me work through them, bring some of them to the surface of my consciousness.  My way of coping has been to stay super busy.  I think it's begun to wear on me.  When we moved to Louisiana and I was bored out of my mind, stuck at home, in the middle of nowhere, I kept busy by baking, cooking, and helping my husband grade assignments and tests.  I didn't let very many people get close to me there, and maybe that's because I wasn't ready to let others see my pain.  I ended up getting my CDL and driving a school bus, which I hated, but it distracted me from the pain I was feeling.  Then, we moved back to Utah and I once again kept myself busy by going back to school to get certified as a pharmacy technician.  I've completed that now, but continue to stay busy by coming up with projects to do, trying to go to the park with neighbors, etc.  Like I said, maybe not the best way to cope with our loss, but it's my way.

I've recently realized how much I've changed over the last two years.  I feel like I'm a completely new person.  I feel like losing Max has caused a rebirth in me.  I find myself not wanting to connect with friends in my past, because I'm just not the same person, and I don't know if they'll accept me as I am now.  Losing Max broke me, and I'm trying to find the new me.  I haven't discovered it yet, but I think I'm getting closer.  It's strange that I feel like the people in my past won't understand, and they'll be uncomfortable with my pain.  I don't feel that way with new people that I befriend.  Maybe it's that I can befriend people on my terms, that I can trust with my pain.  I'm sorry if I've pushed someone away.  I haven't consciously done so, and I'm trying to find the courage to reconnect.  Those friends from my past can probably help me find me again, honestly.  They knew who I was and what I wanted to become.  Maybe they can help me to define who the real me is. 

I ran across this link on Facebook and it describes almost perfectly how I feel: 

http://www.huffingtonpost.com.au/anne-maree-polimeni/we-need-to-talk-about-stillbirth/

I loved when she said this: 

"Stillbirth is different to other deaths. No one is going to sit down with you and laugh and talk about the good old times. You can't. There is nothing to reminisce but the kicks and activity inside your own body. There's nothing good that can come out of stillbirth, there's no upside. It's too difficult. And this is the reason that we don't talk about it.

"No one wants to put themselves in our shoes, they do not want to imagine our pain. I don't blame anyone. I don't want to be this person either. I used to avoid stillbirth too. But this is the exact reason we need to start this conversation. There are many families out there experiencing this same loss. If we start talking about it, there will be some positivity, because we will create awareness and only then can we begin to make it a health priority."

I hope this blog brings hope and light to the world.  I hope it will bring awareness to the world.  I hope I can help even one person with their grief.  

My Story

Looking back, God tried to prepare us for this traumatic experience a long time ago. As we read an article together about child loss in the Ensign (a magazine the LDS church publishes) when we were first married, we both received personal revelation that someday, we were going to lose a child. My husband had a dream once that we would have twins, a boy and a girl, and they would be born okay, but something would happen to the boy. We weren't sure what to take from that dream, but since he had it, I have always been afraid of losing a boy. We had our first baby, a little girl, with no complications. She is a beautiful healthy six year old now. When she was almost three, we had another baby, a little boy. He was also born with no complications, although I was worried the entire pregnancy that something was going to happen. Then, one morning in August of 2013, I had an overwhelming feeling come over me that we needed to have another child. So, we started trying and found out in December of that year that we were expecting. We told family and very close friends, but kept it a secret from everyone else until I was about 18 weeks along and we knew we were having a boy. We were very excited, but also very nervous about everything. My husband was finishing up graduate school, we decided that he should pursue teaching through Teach for America, we found out we'd be moving to Louisiana for said job, and we found out he would need to go to Mississippi for training for 6 weeks. We felt it was best for me to stay in Utah with our two kids at each of our parents houses for a certain amount of time over the summer. This would allow me to keep the same doctor, insurance, etc. We had planned for my husband and our dads to move our belongings to Lousiana on July 17. I would get induced on August 6 and fly to Louisiana with our kids and mother-in-law on August 13. My husband was going to come home for a brief visit from July 12-17. We had everything all planned out.

He did come home, but things did not go as planned. I had felt anxiety throughout my entire pregnancy, but I attributed it to all of the unknowns that were coming our way. I didn't really think I would lose a child. I had kind of written off the personal revelation we had received, and thought all our kids would be fine.

I was very wrong. While my husband was home, on July 14, I started feeling minor contractions in the morning. I wasn't sure if they were contractions, braxton hicks contractions, or just gas pains. So, we decided to take the kids to go see How to Train Your Dragon 2. They got stronger and stronger. As we were driving to the movie, though, they started to come more frequently.  We were almost the only people in the theater, only one other family with a child about my sons age and a newborn were there.  My son ran around most of the time, and since I had taken my daughter to see the movie earlier, I chased him around.  I had a couple longer, stronger contractions and a few small, short ones while we were there.  My husband started to get worried.  We went to Trader Joe's after that to get some groceries for dinner.  The contractions started getting closer and harder so we started timing them.  We timed them for a bit when we got home then called the doctor's office to see what the doctor wanted us to do, since I was only 35 weeks and 5 days.  He told us it sounded like labor, and it may not be able to be stopped so to head to the hospital.  

We asked my brother-in-law to meet us at the hospital to take the kids.  The nurse took us to the delivery room and my husband took our kids out to my brother-in-law.  During the time he was gone, the nurse was trying to find Maximus' heartbeat with the monitor they put on your belly.  She could not find it and said she was going to go get the ultrasound machine to find it easier.  I asked her if I should be concerned, and she said no.  At this point, I started having a lot of anxiety and fear. Why couldn't she find the heartbeat? I'd never had that happen with any of my kids. She came in with another nurse and the ultrasound machine.  The nurse looked around for a few minutes and could not find a heartbeat.  She said there was a possibility she missed it, since she was not an expert, and that a doctor would come look as well.  

My husband walked into the room after she told me this, and I just looked at him and started crying.  He asked me what was wrong and I told him they couldn't find a heartbeat.  He just looked so stunned.  He started calling people to let them know that it appeared that Maximus didn't have a heartbeat and was dead.  The doctor came in and looked around.  She confirmed that there was no heartbeat.  She also showed us that there was fluid in his lungs, showing that he had probably been dead for a couple of days.  She left to call my doctor and talk to him on the phone about the next steps.  I bawled for quite some time.  My husband and I prayed and felt a little peace.  He called everyone that needed to be called.  My mom showed up soon after.  

During this entire time, I continued to have contractions and continued crying.  I felt very numb and didn’t notice many of the contractions, even though they were getting pretty intense.  I texted a close friend of mine, who I knew would be one of the only people to understand what I was going through, because she delivered twins stillborn.  She called and cried with me.  The nurse came back in so I told her I'd call back later.  The nurse took all my admitting information and put the contraction monitor on my belly.  My friend texted me to see how things were going and whether my husband was coming.  She didn't realize he was home for a couple of days, the first tender mercy of the Lord.  I don't know how I would have gotten through everything without my husband there.  He made many decisions that I felt incapable to make and decisions that I didn't want to make.  She asked if she could bring me a gift and stop by later.  I told her yes.  Little did I know, she would later arrive right as I delivered baby Max.  I feel this was another tender mercy of the lord.  

My doctor called to discuss my options.  He said we could deliver vaginally or through c-section.  I elected to deliver vaginally so I would not have to recover from a c-section.  He said he would be in after his last two patients at the office.  Labor progressed quickly.  My husband left for a little while to tell the kids what was going on.  I don't think I would have been able to handle that, and I'm so grateful that my husband did that for us.  He is so strong, and I don't think I would've been able to do it.  

Right as he got back, I got the information on mortuaries from the nurse.  We asked my mom what her opinion was between two mortuaries.  She said one of them creeped her out a little, and as soon as she described the building, I agreed.  So, my husband called Lindquist Mortuary.  As he started talking to them, we found out that they feel it is their duty to provide everything possible for no cost in situations like ours.  They take care of the funeral directing, embalming, the casket, everything for free for stillborn babies, another tender mercy.  We had no idea how we would pay for everything; this gave us a way.  My grandparents also had purchased 16 plots for our family, and we were able to use one of them to bury our little Maximus.

Soon after my husband got back, my water broke.  Things went really quickly from that point.  I started having the urge to push.  The nurse came in when we told her that, as did my doctor.  He seemed to have shown up just in time.  We later found out that he arrived just as my water broke.  They set up the room for delivery.  My doctor asked if I wanted something to take the edge off the pain since I had not taken anything.  I agreed, and the nurse soon brought in Phentonol.  It made me feel really dizzy and loopy, but I think it gave me just enough relief that I was able to deliver Max into the world without any other medication.  He was in the breech position. I pushed for about 3-4 minutes and Maximus was delivered.  I delivered stillborn Maximus James into the world on July 14, 2014 at 7:07 PM in Salt Lake City.  I feel blessed that I didn't tear at all, another tender mercy.  

I was still a little out of it from the Phentonol, and didn't realize at first that the nurse had put baby Max on my chest.  When I realized he was there, I didn't know what to think.  Honestly, I was somewhat appalled at what he looked like.  I didn't realize how fragile his skin would be, and his skin was very dark.  I expected more of a lifelike baby boy.  I had a really hard time looking at him.  I feel a little guilty about my feelings, but I'm sure other moms have felt the same way.  My friend showed up right after Maximus was born still. She gave us a beautiful willow tree figurine of an infant, and a book. I'm so grateful she was there. It brought me some peace to remember that she knew how I was feeling.

Another tender mercy seemed to have appeared at this time.  My original nurse was off duty and another nurse came on duty.  She had also lost a child, 16 years ago.  She said the pain never really leaves, and that's okay.  She was just the nurse we needed to get through those next rough hours.  She encouraged us to take lots of pictures, since we elected not to have a photographer come in.  We took some more pictures.  She asked us if we were interested in getting some molds of Maximus' feet and hands.  We told her yes.  She said it sounded like someone wouldn't be able to do it until Tuesday evening.  I later found out that a woman and her husband went to the hospital late Monday evening and did the molds for us.  We met her at the mortuary Wednesday, and she told us she had lost a Maximus too. She also took more pictures of Maximus Monday night. I am so grateful she did that. The ones we took weren't as good as I had hoped.

After we took pictures and held Maximus a few more minutes, we decided we were ready to let go and Sara covered Maximus' body and put him in a refrigerator until the mortuary could pick him up.  I cried a lot.  It was really hard to let him go, and I feel like every time I think about him, I have to let him go a little more.  My heart feels shattered every time I think about him. My dad gave me a priesthood blessing after Maximus was taken out of the room.  I knew at that moment that my husband and I will get the chance to see Max grow up and raise him as long as we keep the commandments and stay true to our covenants.  My dad, or Heavenly Father, rather, told us that Maximus was being taken care of by those who had gone on before us.  I immediately thought of my great grandma.  She loved children so much, and spoiled them and loved them to her fullest.  She was very dear to me, and I truly feel like she's taking care of him until my husband and I can get there.  

The next couple hours are a blur.  I had requested that I be able to go home after some observation.  They told me I would need to stay for four hours to make sure I didn't hemorrhage or anything.  I got to go home after four hours, and I'm so grateful for that.  I really didn't want to spend the night in the hospital, another tender mercy of the Lord.  We got home around 11:30.  I cried again before trying to fall asleep.  It took me a long time to fall asleep.  I would drift off and jerk awake wondering if I was bleeding too much.  I was really worried about that, because I didn't want to leave my husband alone in the world.  I finally used the bathroom and saw that I was hardly bleeding, and I was comforted a little and able to fall asleep around 1:45 in the morning.  

Tuesday was a really hard day.  We made an appointment with the mortuary for 11.  The funeral director informed us once again that they didn't charge anything for their services or the casket, because they feel it is their civic duty.  When he told us that he usually charges over $5,000 for an adult, I was extremely touched and overwhelmed at the kindness the mortuary shows.  I'm not sure how much the casket usually costs, but I'm sure it's also a pretty penny.  We filled out the paperwork and saw the casket.  It was so tiny.  It hurt me to think of Maximus again.  The funeral director let us know that we could come view him the next day before the burial, but that we may not want others to see him, because of how fragile his skin would be and the point of decay his body might be at.  

I cried again as we left.  It was really hard.  The rest of that day is a blur. My husband's parents came down.  The kids knew something was wrong and were off.  My husband and our dads unloaded the baby things off the trailer and repacked it to make it more even and secure.  I felt like we should pay it forward with all the baby things we had, so I gave them to one of my dearest friends, who was having a little boy of her own soon.  My mom accidentally threw our keys away, but we found them.  I really don't remember what else we did that day.  I fell asleep quickly, though, and was very grateful for that.  

Wednesday morning we all got ready for the funeral.  My husband's parents came around 9:45, then realized they couldn't find their keys.  My first reaction was to get very angry.  I was so annoyed they had misplaced their keys.  We eventually found that they had accidentally thrown them away, just as ours had accidentally got thrown away the day before.  We still arrived at the mortuary on time.  We met the woman who made our molds there.  My friend told us later that people who have suffered similar losses do this for therapy, to try to heal and help others heal.  She took some pictures of us with Maximus.  I'm glad we have some from that day to remember him. I struggled to hold him, but she encouraged me to.  He had decayed quite a bit and looked like a mummy.  It was really disheartening.  Somehow I thought he would look a little better, though I'm not sure why I believed that.  We elected not to let the kids see him, even though my daughter really wanted to.  We didn't want her to get scared.  We did end up showing her one picture from the hospital later in the day, and she really enjoyed looking at the molds of his hands and feet.  I cried a lot.  I held him for a little while; I looked at his beautiful little hands.  My husband and I spent a moment alone with him, then the funeral director came in and helped us seal the casket.  We covered his little face and body with the blanket, then again with the covering on the casket.  He put the lid on and sealed it.  It was so hard to let him go again.  It hurts me so bad.  My husband carried the casket to the van.  Then we left to the cemetery.

When we got to the cemetery, he also carried the casket to the grave.  I'm so grateful that the funeral director offered that privilege to my husband, because he wanted to.  Many people showed up to support us at the cemetery, my grandparents, my aunt, uncle and cousins, my husband's uncle, aunt and cousin, some old family friends, our Bishop, and some of my parents' neighbors. My husband asked our dads to each read a scripture.  I don't recall what they were now, so I'll have to ask them.  My husband gave the dedicatory prayer, and it was beautiful.  I don't remember much of what he said, but I felt comfort again knowing he was being taken care of and that we'd see him again.  The Bishop also shared a few words, including a poem that was read at his father's funeral.  Everyone hugged us and gave us words of comfort and love.  Everyone started filtering away until it was me, my husband, and my dad left at the cemetery.  My husband and I spent a few more minutes there.  We said goodbye to Maximus and drove away, one of the hardest things I've ever done, if not the hardest.  

I'm so grateful for the love and support so many people have given us through this process.  I felt some closure after the funeral.  I know it will never feel complete and that I'll ache for little Maximus, but I did feel a little better then, and I'm so grateful that my husband was home for all this.  I don't know what I would've done without him.  

That evening, my doctor called to tell us what the tests had found from the placenta.  I had chorioamnionitis.  Basically, an infection got in the amniotic fluid and the chorion layer as well.  It spread to the placenta and essentially caused little heart attacks throughout the placenta.  Maximus was not getting the nourishment or oxygen that he needed.  

After doing some research, I realized that I had some of the signs of chorioamnionitis.  I thought I had been having some urinary incontinence the last couple weeks, because every time I used the bathroom and stood up, a little fluid came out.  I now think that I somehow got a microtear in the amniotic sac and that an infection of some sort, probably Group B Strep (which I tested positive for earlier in pregnancy) or Bacterial Vaginosis, made it's way into the sac.  I also had an ache under my right ribcage area.  I had been afraid of it being gall bladder problems, or that perhaps it was round ligament pain.  Instead, it was uterine fundal tenderness, a symptom of chorioamnionitis.  I also felt like my heart rate was high, but it wasn't when I was at the doctor's office.  I didn't experience the obvious symptom of a fever.  I had told my doctor about the ache, but he didn't seem concerned about it.  Everything else was fine.  The baby's heartbeat was normal, as was mine.  There really was no way I could've known something was wrong.  I don't know that extensive testing would've been done to see if something was wrong anyway.  Many of these are common concerns for pregnant women.  

I read also that chorioamnionitis often brings complications with it, such as pneumonia, meningitis, cerebral palsy and other brain defects in the infant.  I think I had been infected for at least a month, so I'm pretty sure Maximus would have been born with severe disabilities, something I'm not sure my husband and I would've really struggled with.  If that's the truth, I'm grateful that Maximus didn't have to suffer through a very difficult life.  Deep down, I think he would've had those disabilities.  I think the Lord spared us and him a lot more hardship and pain than we realize.  Maybe someday we'll understand.  

I had felt so anxious throughout the whole pregnancy, though.  I think deep down I knew something was wrong, or that something was going to happen. My husband left the next morning with our dads to move our stuff to Louisiana.  It was so hard to see him go again, especially after our hardship and all the grief we were feeling.  Some of our stuff got ruined, because of rain they encountered on the journey.  It was hard to hear that, after everything else we'd gone through that week, but we still felt like it was the right place for us.  My husband told me that Sunday that he felt like our ward is where we need to be.  I had high hopes for Louisiana, and was very scared and anxious.  I didn't know what to expect, and I was afraid of being alone.  I struggled with the fact that I would be leaving everyone and everything I knew behind, that I would be leaving little Maximus' grave. 

I so look forward to the opportunity that my husband and I will get to raise him.  I love him so much, even though I didn't have much of a chance to get to know him.  I pray for strength to cope with everything and find comfort still.  

I am so grateful for the tender mercies we did receive from the Lord.  I also just remembered that the night before the graveside service, we read about Christ’s crucifixion and burial in the scriptures with my daughter, and the night of the graveside service, we read about his resurrection.  How fitting that we just happened to be reading about the things we needed to hear that week.  My daughter told me that Maximus has white hair.  I don’t know if she’s seen him or something, or if it’s just her imagination, but I’d like to remember what she said.  She thought that the molds of his hands and feet were his actual hands and feet, but I think we got through to her that they’re not.  I may have to explain that again.  She has had a hard time with this too.  She has cried everyday about how she’s misses Maximus.  She is such a sweet spirit, and I hope I can be a good mom to both her and and my son, and someday Maximus.  This whole experience makes me want to be a better person, and to be more Christlike so that I can for sure see Maximus again someday.  I think my husband feels the same way.  Now to figure out how to be better parents, better spouses, and better followers of Christ.  

I wrote most of this post in the days following all of this, so I could remember the details. Now, it's almost two years later, and I'm actually posting it for the world to see. In 11 days, it will be Maximus' 2nd angelversary. Last year, we moved back from Louisiana at the beginning of June. We struggled a lot there, and did not enjoy most of our experiences there. I look back and realize we made some amazing friends, and we did have good times there. But, overall, we were unhappy there. I think it was good for us to move somewhere completely different while we healed a little. But, I'm very glad to be back. I didn't have a ton of emotions on Max's angelversary last year, but I think it's going to be more of a struggle this year. Last year, I think I had buried my grief and pain, but this year, I've had time to really think about him more, and try to process some of my emotions. My next post talks a bit more about how I'm doing now. I hope that my story brings some hope to others. There are things to be grateful for, even during the hardest times in our lives. I know my Savior lives. I know he knows how I feel and what I've been through. I know the Atonement has healing power in our lives. I feel that it has worked on me, even though I wasn't super aware of it at the time. I know He loves us. I know we can be a family forever, and that someday, we'll get to see him again.