Chapter 1

Because so many of you do not know what happened, I have decided to post excerpts from a journal that I have started to write about all of this. These are tender things from my heart. I hope you will be able to find some solace from these words. Some of the things are not the happiest of thoughts so please forgive me. Thanks again for all of the prayers.

As Martin and I thought about our family, we knew that we wanted a 6^th child. We also wouldn’t have minded a little break between Hyrum and the next one. One night as I was complaining of some pretty major mood swings, Martin mentioned that I might be pregnant. I was waking up a little bit nauseas, but would explain it away. I was also pretty tired, but I had a lot going on in my life. The following morning I decided to take my last pee stick and show him that he was wrong. Martin was in the shower not knowing what I was doing. I dipped it, waited a few moments before looking at it, and behold, there were two definite lines!! In the past, I am usually pretty in tune with my body and know that I am pregnant even before the tests will show positive. So usually, five tests later, I finally prove that I am pregnant. This time however, Martin had called it and he was right. I immediately start laughing. Martin, not knowing why, asked. Subsiding the giggles, I told him that he was right. Martin and I were both strangely okay with this unexpected news. I had heard of a lot of women that cry when they find out they were pregnant again, especially after having so many. I strangely felt very calm, but also in a bit of a shock.

We held of telling the kids for a little bit. We decided to tell them pretty early on however, because I can get pretty hormonal a.k.a. grumpy, even when I really didn’t want to be. I thought it would only be fair to the kids so they knew that mom still loved them, and that I needed their love in return. We prefaced the conversation over dinner. We asked each kid if they wanted another sibling. They all said yes. We asked if they wanted a girl or a boy. It was a resounding, GIRL!

Throughout the pregnancy I remember some very poignant memories that I usually don’t have. As I was at the doctor’s for the initial visit, the nurse who had cared for me with Hyrum’s pregnancy was actually happy to see me! I had had so many unpleasant experiences before with Dr’s and nurses telling me when I should have or stop having kids that I was expecting the same backlash. I told her that it was a surprise pregnancy but we were happy to have it. She was taking my blood pressure and looked me in the eye and said, “Sometimes the surprises are the biggest blessings.” I was touched by her remark and filed it away in my mind.

Hope, my NP, was equally excited to hear we were pregnant again. She said if anyone could do it, Martin and I could. As the time went on I kept getting comment after comment from medical people and others that I was meant to be pregnant, meaning I look great, or I was handling all the kids and being pregnant so well. I felt good to hear those comments and at the same time was a little frustrated that I was once again going to be pregnant and nursing for another 19 months! I was still nursing Hyrum when I got pregnant and had to wean him because I could not sustain both being pregnant and nursing. I was running and exercising about 2-4 times a week and was excited to not be nursing to drop that weight as well. So when this pregnancy came, I was okay with it, just maybe a little disappointed for selfish reasons. Throughout the pregnancy, I was never upset that I was pregnant, just maybe weary with the whole experience. I am usually the person to say “I love being pregnant.” I still could, but I was just tired.

As life was crowding in, I was still primary president, Martin was going full swing with his real estate, and maintaining a job, my extended family was having issues, I had five sweet active children and I was pregnant with my 6^th. I was weary! I got a few priesthood blessings, and again, poignant things stuck with me. I couldn’t really forget the blessing that blessed me with the patience of Job, and the many people would come to my aid that I would have not expected. Hmmm…to be tried as Job. Not something I really wanted to experience.

When we got our ultrasound, I had already decided that we didn’t want to find out what the sex of the baby was for the first time. I never thought I would have been strong enough, but this time I was. Martin went along with it, because that was what I wanted. When we got the results back, we were told that the baby had a slight abnormality with the baby’s kidney, but it wasn’t that big of a deal, and that the baby would get another ultrasound when the baby was born. I was still worried, because I am a mother, and needed another blessing. I was blessed to know that the kidney would not be an issue.

Well, as I had expected, contractions started early again. They got really bad, this time around 27 weeks. Fortunately, they did not change my cervix so I was somewhat in the clear. Contractions become something that I just dealt with. About five or so times I was borderline going in to the hospital because they were regular and somewhat painful contractions. I never did and tried to stay really in tune with my body and with the spirit, as another blessing had admonished me to do. Because I was concerned with how many I was having and still having the duties of being wife and mother, I asked for another blessing. I was blessed that I would carry to term and that all will be well with the baby, if I continued to take care of myself. Because of that caution, I tried my hardest to stay in tune and to take care of myself. During this pregnancy, I developed hypoglycemia, or low blood sugar. It was very difficult a lot of the times to not feel shaky and that I was eating the right kind of foods. Food was definitely hard for me this pregnancy. I really didn’t have much of an appetite, but would force myself to eat because I knew I needed to.

With the knowledge that we would carry to term, I continued in my resolve to not do a “walk of shame”, that I would go in the hospital when I knew it was time. Whether it was to stop labor if it was too early, or to go in to have the baby. As I got closer and finally past the “scary” point where they would let me go into labor, I really got my house ready! I had already painted Emily’s room a yellow and a hopeful pink that would soon to be a little girl’s room. I painted and redecorated the boy’s bathroom, and was now onto cleaning! The nice thing was, I felt great! There was a point that I felt like I was doing great. I got a lot of work done in small and large bits of time, where eventually I felt I had a handle on my house, but it wasn’t overwhelming to try and stay on top of it.

Martin kept bugging me to pack my bags, and I kept bugging him to set up our new bassinet. He told me he didn’t feel right about setting it up until we had the baby. I agreed because the kids probably would have found it as a new jungle gym anyway. Because we didn’t know what we were having, we had a hard time getting everything put out. I felt totally strangely calm that it was okay that the little girl clothes were in the far corners of the basement, on the bottom of a bunch of containers. Usually, I have a dresser all ready, diapers set-up, everything ready to go. Not this time.