Learning to trust again–Let the Sun Shine In

It’s interesting the ride grief takes you on. I haven’t been writing as much because I really haven’t needed to. Even with several topics I want to tackle and the challenge I took part of in May, I just didn’t have the push that I have had in the past. And that’s ok. I figured I would start to fade out at some point. I thought it might be later rather than sooner, but I guess I am grateful that it has been sooner rather than later.

Really, I have been doing quite well. The constant pain in my heart seems to have dulled quite a bit and I can talk about Isaac with a very sweet fondness. Like an old friend or relative that had lived a long, full, engaging life and had met their end with perfect timing.

It seems that I sincerely only look back at Isaac with bittersweet tenderness now and I can’t even begin to tell you how liberating that is.

Looking at the surface it seems that I have come to terms with it all and I can really move on and have found peace with my circumstances.

But the funny thing about trials and grief is that it gets into all the crevices of your life. You believe that you have cleaned things up and restored your life from the hurricane only to realize that the foundation has been cracked and mold and mildew have spread under the surface of your newly bleached exterior.

It surprises you because you really thought you had a handle on things. You thought you had cleaned and purged and restored everything. The mere fact that your whole world didn’t come crashing down around you gave you the false sense of reality things were better than they were.

I’ll elaborate and stop talking in metaphors.

I had gotten to a really great place. I mean I was truly happy. Inside, outside, all around happy. I felt like I had purpose and direction. I have focus and I felt like the weight of Isaac passing was finally starting to lift and the residue was more of a blessing than a burden. I was elated.

My life was very ordinary and I loved it that way. I was just living my life–doing my thing. Until something went wrong. Nothing that was a big deal–just some disappointments and I fell to pieces.

It had NOTHING to do with Isaac. It had everything to do with the fact that my poor little heart was not ready to deal with heart ache. It was not healed from the last big heart ache and that second round of punches did a pretty great job of opening up wounds I totally thought were healed.

When I felt like I could breath again I needed to examine what on earth had happened. If I was “healed” from my heartache from Isaac, why was I hurting so much and what was I hurting from?

The question haunted me for a couple days until it dawned on me that I did not trust my Savior. I had gotten through my son’s death, but I had not learned to truly trust that I would not get hurt again.

I did a trust fall and I fell.

And it hurt.

I brushed myself off and got up, but I was not ready to make that leap again.

What do we do after we feel that trust has been broken?

Am I sincerely at peace with what happened to Isaac? Yes.

Do I blame God for what happened? No.

Do I still believe that my Savior loves me? Absolutely.

But trials and pain and heart ache are the name of the game in this earthly life and just because my heart broke into a gazillion pieces does not mean that I am exempt from it happening again.

It’s that second round of punches that I am flinching from. It’s the fact just because round one didn’t knock me out that round two might just leave me laying on the floor lifeless.

I have been pondering this incessantly.  How can I still have so much love and devotion and faith in my Savior and not trust Him at the same time?

I must repair my foundation. I must find the hidden cracks. While the trials and disappointments I am experiencing now are no where near the trial and disappointment of losing my sweet baby boy, they feel just as dramatic because my foundation has been weakened.

I believe this is where our testimony is truly tried. Can we withstand round two? Round three? This where we can strengthen our testimony. This is what it means to endure to the end.

Sometimes we think just because we made it through the storm, we survived the trial. I mean, we LIVED–we’re still standing! It’s great news.  But it’s the aftermath that can really torment a person’s soul.

Just because you survived the storm doesn’t mean that it isn’t going to be long and painful to rebuild the devastation the hurricane demolished in it’s path.

Just because you survived the storm doesn’t mean that you aren’t absolutely terrified each time dark clouds start to gather above your barely put together life.

Even if you have come to terms with what happened–the minute you feel just one drop of rain, it can feel like one-hundred thousand and have you scrambling for cover and praying for survival.

We absolutely must have our Savior as our foundation.  Heleman said it best when teaching his sons:

And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall.

Heleman 5:12

I read that scripture for the first time in three separate parts tonight.

1. Mighty Winds (round one)

2. Shafts in the whirlwind (round two)

3. All his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you. (round three)

Maybe I should have known that trials come in “3’s”. Maybe I would have understood that I can still trust in my Savior, but not in that sneaky serpent, Satan. Maybe I would have understood that my Savior still loves me so much no matter what I must endure in this life.

And maybe, if I endure it well, that I will get to hold and cuddle a sweet baby boy who is absolutely pure and perfect and is cheering me on and waiting for me to stay firm and true.

It reminds me of a song my cousin and I used to sing growing up. The lyrics were so silly to me and had me laughing and giggling, but they do teach the truth!

Mommy told me something a little girl should know
It’s all about the Devil and I’ve learned to hate him so
She says he causes trouble when you let him in the room
He will never ever leave you if your heart is filled with gloom

So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin
Smilers never lose and frowners never win
So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin
Open up your heart and let the sun shine in

When you are unhappy, the Devil wears a grin
But oh, he starts a-running when the light comes pouring in
I know he’ll be unhappy ’cause I’ll never wear a frown
Maybe if we keep on smiling he’ll get tired of hangin’ around

So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin
Smilers never lose and frowners never win
So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin
Open up your heart and let the sun shine in

If I forget to say my prayers the Devil jumps with glee
But he feels so awful, awful, when he sees me on my knees
So if you’re full of trouble and you never seem to win
Just open up your heart and let the sun shine in

So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin
Smilers never lose and frowners never win
So, let the sun shine in, face it with a grin
Open up your heart and let the sun shine in
(Stuart Hamblen)

The errand of Angels

I know there is a God.

I know that He loves me.

I know that He hears and answers our prayers. Sometimes they turn out the way we want and sometimes they don’t. But He does hear every single prayer.

When I was a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints I was required to teach the gospel in french to the good people living in and around Paris, France. I wanted nothing more than to do this–not only adequately, but well. I felt that learning the language well was one way to be a good missionary.

Except I didn’t speak french very well.

I was feeling especially down after a lesson one day. I had been tasked to “lead” this particular lesson–which meant that I was in charge and was to lead the discussion. It seemed that with every sentence my loving and well-meaning companion would correct me or “explain” what I “meant to say” or the investigator would look to my companion–confused on what I had just said. Afterwards I felt so defeated and so hurt. I felt hopeless and finally just unloaded on my companion as we waited for the bus to head home.

When we got home there was a letter waiting from my companion’s mother–but oddly enough it was addressed to me. I did not remembering mentioning any of my mounting frustration about the mission and french to companion previous to our earlier conversation at the bus stop, but somehow this sweet lady who had never once met me knew each and every concern of my heart.

Each sentence addressed prayers I was sure I had only prayed in secret. The letter was so personal that it would have terrified me had I not been filled by an overwhelming spirit of love. This woman’s words broke down barrier after barrier and spoke words to my soul that allows me to testify today that God answers prayers. He sends messengers to deliver personal witnesses of his love. It was not a coincidence. There is just physically and logically no way. It wasn’t so much what she said, but more what God needed me to hear. He needed me to know that it came from Him. He needed me to feel His love encircled around me.

Today that happened to me again.

Audrey hasn’t been sleeping lately. I mean she never has been a good sleeper, but lately—she has been at one of her all time worsts.  I think for the past week or more Audrey has been waking up every. single. hour. She goes to bed between 8-8:30 waking up at 9:30, 12:00, 12:45, 1:30, 2:20, 4:00, 6:00 and 7:00am. Every. Day.  She loves her bed and her room, so when she wakes up she just calls out from her bed until Aaron or myself comes and puts her back to sleep. Sometimes–when we are having a full moon, with 70% humidity, the stars are aligned and she feels like it–Audrey will put herself back to sleep. But I think that has only happened once or twice.

This morning I actually woke up in her bed. I was more exhausted than I knew how to deal with. I knew that I would only be able to last so long on the fumes I was burning. In addition to my own personal grief demons I still was required to live my life–as glamorous or stressful as it may be.

Trials, pain, hurt and grief do not come at convenient times. Heartache does not come knocking when you are feeling your best. Usually it comes when you are down. When it rains it pours. At least that’s how I was feeling.   My house, while major progress has been made, is still littered with boxes. Laundry has been put on hold and forget trying to keep up with the tiny 2 yr old tornado that apparently doesn’t need any sleep to function at a full sprint. Lack of sleep was only compounding the situation.  More than once this week Aaron has come home to find me completely passed out on the couch–while Audrey was just–you know–hanging out. I hate that I cannot keep myself more focused and awake. If Audrey takes a nap at all during the day, then she won’t fall asleep until around 10pm–so napping isn’t an option.

I knew things had to change. I didn’t know how, but I guessed they required Divine Intervention.

The first thing that needed to happen was prayer. I knew that I needed to sincerely plead with the Lord and ask for strength and help. I am so grateful for the testimony I have that everything is important to the Lord. Whatever it is–no matter how insignificant it might seem in the grand scheme of things–we can bring it before the Lord.

So I prayed and prayed. For days I have prayed.

Today I woke up to the grim reality that nothing had changed. My patience was thinning and the lack of sleep was really starting to bleed into every aspect of my life. Diet, exercise, memory, motivation and sheer will power. Between the grief and depression–the lack of sleep was literally going to cause a major break down.  Today I broke and had a real heart-to-heart kind of prayer in the middle of the day in the middle of Audrey’s bedroom.

Then tonight at 8:00pm our doorbell rang. Not expecting anyone, I hesitantly went to the door while quickly checking to make sure I was wearing a bra. I opened the door to emptiness until my eyes settled on a royal blue gift bag spotlighted by the porch light. Surprised, I opened the door wider to find that our front door at been attacked by heart with a huge note that said “We love the Isoms”.

I was immediately overcome by the familiar warmth that only true Christ-like love can bring. I was so touched by this act that it almost didn’t matter to me who it was from–just that someone did it. It wasn’t until Aaron appeared next to me asking who it was from that I looked for further clues as who had sent us such a beautiful surprise.

What I found were signatures of many of our closest friends located halfway around the world. Message after message of condolences, love and prayer filled our home as Aaron and I read what was written. My knees felt weak and I could feel the intense emotion pushing its way to the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t believe this incredible act of love. Pure love. Aaron and I just stood there–door wide open, holding each other in disbelief that there were people out there that cared so much for us. Again, it wasn’t so much what they said, but what I needed to hear and more importantly to feel. 

There is absolutely NO way for these amazing people to know how much I needed to feel and hear these words today. There is no way for them to understand how much I needed to feel God’s love today. There is no way–that even if they had known what I was feeling–for them to plan it to arrive at that exact moment. I still am trying to figure out how you all even pulled it off. Who was your Arizona contact??

We would probably still be standing there with our mouths wide open if Audrey hadn’t started helping herself to the gift bag which was filled with tons of Korean goodies. She started by transferring them all to her Easter basket and declaring them HERS. (however I would not allow her to steal my beloved peanut butter/chocolate oreos).

To my Korean friends who are more like family……..

thank you. Truly–you don’t know how much it meant to us. Thank for following the spirit. Thank you for allowing God to work miracles through you. Thank you for loving us.

God is real.

He loves us.

He loves you.

He hears our prayers.

He sends his Angels.

I am happy that my baby boy is one of them.

but if not… (Isaac’s funeral)

I wish I had the peace and serenity everyday like I had the day of Isaac’s funeral. Things didn’t go perfectly, but yet I never felt stressed or overly emotional. We arrived a little late at the chapel and there were already several people there. We ended up feeling it was best to have a closed casket because Isaac’s color and make up just didn’t really look right. The pictures we had were much more flattering. 

The viewing room turned into a gathering place and it was loud and noisy–but it was comforting. It felt like a child belonged there. 

It was amazing the amount of people who came. Aaron and I were so humbled and touched by the hugs, thoughts, cards and gifts given.

We displayed everything we had. Mary Ann’s quilt that showed our family of four, pictures, his hands and feet molds, books and trinkets. I loved it and was grateful to everyone that helped.

The flowers were simple, yet perfect. I had a color scheme in mind from the few things that I had bought him and the flowers reflected those colors. 

Isaac was buried in a simple homemade white outfit and then was wrapped in the blanket I made him.

The program was simple: Grandma Jeannie spoke and gave a wonderful talk about what Isaac means to us and what his potential is. So comforting. Then Grandma Karen read the letter I wrote to him and then I spoke. My talk is below—although a little different because much of the talk I spoke from my heart on the spot. What’s below is how I give the talk now.

After I spoke, my sweet brother and sister-in-law sang “Tiny hands” by Kenneth Cope. After which the conducting bishop gave some closing remarks.

Aaron was the single paulbarer and I walked with him. It was beautiful and heartbreaking. It might be when I cried the most. Watching my husband carry our tiny baby coffin was a little more than I could bare at times. 

The graveside service was short and simple with a very sweet prayer offered by our brother-in-law Gary to dedicate the grave. The spirit was strong and I was grateful to everyone who came to help bring such a beautiful spirit. 

After the prayer was done I realized I couldn’t leave. Leaving meant it was done and I had a hard time pulling myself away from that graveside. 

We asked everyone to go ahead and head back to the chapel for lunch and Aaron and I stayed there by ourselves. Just us and our baby boy. 

I loved it.

I stroked the flowers on his vault as if it were his hair and I sang him a lullaby. I sang him to “sleep”–gave him a final kiss. I took one of his white roses (which will always have a significant meaning to me now) and placed it Grandpa Ray’s tombstone and Aaron and I walked away hand in hand. 

My talk that I gave at Isaac’s funeral. 
I struggled knowing what I wanted to say today. Most funerals discuss the accomplishments of life of the deceased. And so I didn’t know how to form a talk around someone who had never lived outside my womb in this mortal world. I sat thinking and remembered that someone had asked me what I had done with Isaac before he passed to give him earthly experiences. I hadn’t done anything specific, but I had realized that we had had a lot of experiences together as a family.

With Audrey I was so sick, but with Isaac I wasn’t. It allowed me to take him on all sorts of adventures. We visited the Great Wall of China, rode in a rickshaw through the hutangs, visited the forbidden city and the terra cotta soldiers. We also got to experience yummy foreign foods, lots of airplane rides and Disneyland! He also got to “meet” almost every single one of his cousins and aunts and uncles. He got to hear their voices and feel their love. He’s gotten to do some pretty amazing things in his short mortal life.

In fact, looking back on these last eight months, I have truly been blessed in my experiences with this little boy.

I think one of my favorite memories was when I found out I was pregnant. I was directing the musical “Seussical the Musical Jr.” and the theme of the show is “a person’s a person, no matter how small”. It was a beautiful reminder that babies in the womb are wonderful little people. Trisomy 18 happens at conception, it is a chromosomal defect where there are three number 18 chromosomes. This defect became a death sentence for our little baby—before we even knew of such a thing. So even though all I knew was that I was pregnant, Isaac’s body was already developing with a disability.  I loved having a daily reminder that he was important too—no matter how small. It became a mantra for me when I heard that so many others terminate their pregnancy after finding out

When we did finally become aware of the possibility of Isaac having trisomy 18, it was fairly early on in the pregnancy.  The news hit us like a ton of bricks and only became slightly easier as time went on, but it was really our faith in Jesus Christ that carried us through the pregnancy and continues to be a support now.

What is faith in Jesus Christ? As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, Faith in Jesus Christ is the first principle of the Gospel. It is the foundation. But what happens when our faith is tested beyond what we feel capable of? Often throughout this experience I prayed for miracles. I prayed that somehow the doctors were wrong and my baby didn’t have trisomy 18—but perhaps just a heart defect. I prayed that God would heal him. I prayed daily and I prayed with all the energy of my heart. I poured my soul out unto God.  I did not just accept the news without some sort of fight. I prayed somehow all of this was just a bad dream that Aaron and I would get to wake up from. Even at the very end, I prayed for God to raise my baby from the dead. I asked Him to make his heart beat again. I prayed for more time with my baby.

But it didn’t happen.

So what then? I was reminded of a talk given in General Conference by Dennis E. Simmons entitled “But If Not”

He speaks to us about what happens when the things we pray for don’t happen. He teaches us that “Faith is not bravado, not just a wish, not just a hope. True faith is faith in the Lord Jesus Christ—confidence and trust in Jesus Christ that leads a person to follow Him. ¹

He then goes on to tell the story of “When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego refused to bow down and worship a golden image set up by the king, a furious Nebuchadnezzar told them that if they would not worship as commanded, they would immediately be cast into a burning fiery furnace. “And who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?” ²

Who is this God that shall deliver my baby boy out the bondage of his mortal body?

With faith I valiantly raised my voice in chorus with these courageous three young men.

If it be so [if you cast us into the furnace— or insert your own trial here], our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace[or from Trisomy 18], and he will deliver us out of thine hand.

I was very confident in my faith. I knew God could save him. My faith seemed absolute.

But Brother Simmons helped us to understand the true faith of these young men. He said “But then they demonstrated that they fully understood what faith is. They continued, “But if not, … we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.” ³ That is a statement of true faith.”

“But if not”.

My heart was broken. My heart IS broken. Do I have the faith to move forward when God does not answer my prayers in the way I had hoped?

The lesson I learned from these young men is that “They knew that they could trust God—even if things didn’t turn out the way they hoped. ⁴ They knew that faith is more than mental assent, more than an acknowledgment that God lives. Faith is total trust in Him.”

In October of last year we were given the first indication that our baby had something wrong. He tested positive in the quad blood screening  and was given a 1:10 chance of having trisomy 18. 90% that everything would turn out just fine. In early December it was confirmed that he did have trisomy 18 after multiple ultra-sounds and final DNA test.  I never once questioned God’s plan and knew that no matter what happened, I would get to see my baby boy again. It wasn’t a question of understanding doctrine. But understand doctrine and God’s plan doesn’t stop the pain and grief.  As I prepared for this talk, tying to figure out what gospel aspect I would relate, it became apparent that what I was lacking was faith. Faith that God didn’t just let Isaac die. That it was indeed for a purpose. I don’t have all the understanding of the situation, but I can find comfort in knowing that God does have the understanding that I am lacking.

I love the experience related by Elder Scott of the quorum of the twelve:

“We had the blessing of having children. A daughter, the first child, continues to be an enormous blessing in our lives. A couple of years later a son we named Richard was born. A few years later a daughter was born. She died after living only a few minutes.

Our son, Richard, was born with a heart defect. We were told that unless that could be cured, there was little probability that he would live more than two or three years. This was so long ago that techniques now used to repair such defects were unknown. We had the blessing of having a place where doctors agreed to attempt to perform the needed surgery. The surgery had to be done while his little heart was beating.

The surgery was performed just six weeks after the birth and death of our baby daughter. When the operation finished, the principal surgeon came in and said it was a success. And we thought, “How wonderful! Our son will have a strong body, be able to run and walk and grow!” We expressed deep gratitude to the Lord. Then about 10 minutes later, the same doctor came in with an ashen face and told us, “Your son has died.” Apparently the shock of the operation was more than his little body could endure.

Later, during the night, I embraced my wife and said to her, “We do not need to worry, because our children were born in the covenant. We have the assurance that we will have them with us in the future. Now we have a reason to live extremely well. We have a son and a daughter who have qualified to go to the celestial kingdom because they died before the age of eight.” That knowledge has given us great comfort. We rejoice in the knowledge that all seven of our children are sealed to us for time and all eternity.”

Now we have a reason to live extremely well. I am so grateful to be sealed in God’s temple. I am so grateful to have the knowledge that because Aaron and I made specific choices we were able to get married and seal for time and all eternity. Because of choices that we made in our youth and adulthood, we have qualified to live with our son in the celestial kingdom. Now all we have to do is get there. Now we have even more purpose in life. In our son’s death we found reason to live.

Brother Simmons goes on to expand on what true faith is.

“Faith is believing that although we do not understand all things, He does. Faith is knowing that although our power is limited, His is not. Faith in Jesus Christ consists of complete reliance on Him.”

“What does the Lord expect of us with respect to our challenges? He expects us to do all we can do. He does the rest. Nephi said, “For we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.” ¹⁹

We need to have the same faith as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego.We cannot allow ourselves to stop at that first level of faith. We must strive for deeper faith. We must.

Brother Simmons then puts this faith on a more personal level.

“Our God will deliver us from ridicule and persecution, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from sickness and disease, but if not … . He will deliver us from loneliness, depression, or fear, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from threats, accusations, and insecurity, but if not. … He will deliver us from death or impairment of loved ones, but if not, … we will trust in the Lord. Our God will see that we receive justice and fairness, but if not. … He will make sure that we are loved and recognized, but if not. … We will receive a perfect companion and righteous and obedient children, but if not…“

Our God will spare my baby from a life threatening defect, but if not. ….He will allow my son to be defy the odds and live awhile here on earth, but if not …He will allow me to hold my sweet boy alive and breathing, even only for a few moments,but if not.

but if not…

“…. we will have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, knowing that if we do all we can do, we will, in His time and in His way, be delivered and receive all that He has. ²⁰ .”

We are taught by Nephi that we must “press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men Wherefore, if ye shall press forward, feasting upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life.his is the way; and there is none other way nor name given under heaven whereby man can be saved in the kingdom of God. And now, behold, this is the doctrine of Christ, and the only and true doctrine of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, which is one God, without end. ” (2 Nephi 31: 20-21)

Preparing this talk gave me comfort and hope, but it didn’t change the fact that I am still hurting and still questioning. Faith in Jesus Christ gives us something to hold on to. It’s faith in Him that allows us to doubt, worry, question, hurt, cry and grieve because we have Jesus Christ as an anchor to pull us back.  It wasn’t until I started to prepare this talk that I was able to feel a little bit of healing in my heart. It’s a process. Through his atonement we find the path to heal. Faith in our Savior isn’t absolute, it’s a journey. It’s enduring to the end. We MUST continue to “press forward” as Nephi bids us to do. We must “press forward” through our pain, through our doubts, through our disappointments, through our grief and through every single “but if not”. That is how we receive everlasting life. That is when I get to hold my son again. That  is how I get to hold my son again. Through faith in Jesus Christ.

I bear this testimony of Him, the only begotten and in His name I close–even Jesus Christ. Amen.

The gift of laughter…

It’s interesting how this journey has evolved so far. In the past it would seem just the mere mention of my baby could send me into unexpected tears. But now I can have normal conversations without awkward pauses or sideways glances as people ask me when I’m due and if I’m excited– are we ready–now we have one of each and so on.

While those questions and comments are still a little hard to swallow, I made a choice awhile ago that this baby was a blessing. There has been heartache associated with this pregnancy for sure, but I can honestly say that there have been very, very few times when I had wished this hadn’t happened to us. In fact, in many instances I feel honored to be this cute little baby’s mama. I know Aaron feels the same way. It’s comforting to the both of us.

At church Sunday, the lesson was titled “Living Joyfully in Troubled Times“. I felt like this lesson was orchestrated just for me and seemed to mirror all the lessons I have been learning this week. I guess the Lord was really trying to pound something into my head.

Our teacher did an amazing job and I could write an entire blog post about how cool I think she is (starting with the fact that her mother is french and so she was raised french. Right in Paris–so she speaks fluent french, which is pretty darn cool). But I’ll just start with her contagious testimony of our Savior  and her talent for teaching made the lesson riveting.

The lesson follows the teachings of one of the former LDS prophets Ezra Taft Benson. The lesson spoke about his character and how he learned to find joy in troubled times. One of my favorite quotes was this:

“Elder Neal A. Maxwell of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles described President Benson as a “careful watcher of events, [who] maintains a certain buoyancy and cheerfulness we would do well to watch. Such buoyancy,” Elder Maxwell said, “comes not from ignoring enveloping events, but from noticing these and yet looking beyond them to promises having to do with how the kingdom will finally prevail.”

I loved this!! The buoyancy did not come from ignoring the events, but from acknowledging them and looking beyond them. It’s ok to recognize that you are indeed having a crappy go of things. It’s ok to say you are having a bad day. It’s ok to acknowledge the fact that loosing a baby is hard thing.

It’s so easy to get weighed down by our situation. In fact I had a moment the other day where I realized that my body would need to recover from having a baby. I don’t know why I had skipped this step in my head. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t “nesting”. I wasn’t buying onesies or a crib or other fun/cute boy accessories. So I guess in my head I skipped the step where I would need to recover from having the baby too. All of a sudden I realized I would have milk–and if it’s anything like when Audrey was born, I would have lots of it. I hope the birth and delivery goes better than it did with Audrey, but I could still ended up in bed literally too hurt/sore to move for two weeks.  When I was recovering from Audrey’s birth, seeing her sweet little face seemed to help with the pain and weight gain and all of it. But losing the baby, but still having all the physical evidence that I just HAD a baby–feels overwhelming.  Of course, I won’t know until I go through it, but it started a whirlwind of thoughts in my head and it made me wonder how birth moms of adopted babies fill that emptiness and void.

But according to President Benson, while acknowledging it is fine,  I must look beyond this one event. There will come a time when my body heals. There will come a time when his passing will be more of a memory than a daily emotional and physical trial.  And maybe it will be time to have another baby. To get to these places I must find the joy. And I do believe the joy is there.  There will come a time when I get to hold this little boy in my arms again and raise him as my son. I must look to the future, because there is a future.

“Without faith in our Heavenly Father, we cannot be successful. Faith gives us vision of what may happen, hope for the future, and optimism in our present tasks.”

This helped me find so much peace in what needs to happen with our baby. Heavenly Father has a plan for our little one. I am not sure what that is quite yet, but I do believe that He is so very much aware of our situation.

On another, but similar topic of finding joy, Aaron and I have been trying to decide on a name. We have wanted to name him since we found out his condition, but we are SO bad at being decisive that we just could not come up with anything that we LOVED. Because you have to LOVE the name you choose to name your child, right?

One of the deciding factors for us is what the name means. We like the name to have more meaning than just liking the sound of it, so we usually look things up and try to find a name that fits our child.

When Audrey was born we took like 3 or 4 names to hospital with us. I don’t remember them all now, but I am pretty sure that Audrey was lower on the list. Well, Audrey’s birth and delivery was so hard, long and painful–that being reminded that Audrey’s name meant noble strength just seemed to fit her.

One of the names that just seemed to be a given for our little boy was “John” or “Jonathan” for many reasons.

1. It’s Aaron’s dad’s name (John)
2. It’s my daddy’s name (John)
3. It’s Aaron’s middle name.  (Jonathan)

So the family connection seemed perfect. However, we couldn’t decide if we wanted a first name or middle name.

Then someone brought up the name Isaac. Aaron and I have always been fond of bible names. In fact, we were pretty sure that we would probably go that route.

So I looked up the names Isaac and John/Jonathan.

Isaac means: Laughter

Jonathan means: Gift of God

John means: God is Gracious

Laughter. Isaac meant laughter. It seemed perfect. When I made the title of this blog, Laughing through tears the point was to find the joy in the heartache. I had every intention in finding things to laugh about. I didn’t want this sweet little boy’s life to be completely associated with sorrow. His life is more than that and he has indeed brought us so much joy–and he has Audrey’s nose and lips!!! For sure those lips would bring us so much laughter.

So Isaac seemed like a good name. But now what? Isaac John? John Isaac? Jonathan Isaac? Isaac Jonathan? I am sure everyone reading will have their favorite, but in the end I really like the idea of what Jonathan meant, “Gift of God”.

I mean look at those beautiful lips!! This is a 4D ultrasound that was taken when I was around 26 weeks maybe? I don’t remember for sure.

God was truly giving us a gift in this sweet small baby and I have no doubt that we will feel his love and personality as strongly as if we were able to raise him into adulthood.  The biggest problem we faced now was committing to a name. I mean, it took 3 days for us to name Audrey after she was born. We just couldn’t really commit to a name. I mean naming a kid is like carving out their destiny right? What if you name your child the wrong name and now they can’t be president?!? 😉 In fact my friend wrote an entire book about that. (Well, about how your name is your destiny–not becoming president, incase you were confused).

The other night, when we were saying our evening prayers with Audrey, we prayed for Isaac. It felt a little weird calling him by name, but a relief as well.

So I am putting it out to the internet world. Aaron and I are attempting to make this official.  This post is to help us commit to the name. Haha. If I put it out there to the Internet world, then it makes it somewhat official right?

So I would like to announce to the world that our baby boy has officially been named:

Isaac Jonathan Isom

Eek. That is scary.

But I can assure that I do believe that this little boy is truly God’s gift of laughter to us. I believe that he will indeed help us to find “joy in troubling times”. He will help us to “Laugh through the tears”. He is a blessing and sweet miracle. We are so grateful to have him in our lives, no matter how long that is.

But I might always just call him my baby boy.