"He came to heal you"

It's 4:20am and I'm at home.  It's been a week now since Gideon was born.  A week since my life has truly changed for ever.  I just pumped 60mls of milk to take to the hospital later on when I go back.  I'll be there all week long.  I still won't want any visitors.

It's interesting to me.  Before he was born, we had 3 names we liked for our baby boy.  Soren, William, and Gideon.  We didn't know which but felt like we would as soon as he was born.  As soon as he was born, we knew.  Gideon.  A few days ago I re-read the stories of Gideon in the Book of Mormon.  He was named perfectly.

I wanted to write about the weeks and months leading up to Gideon's birth.  Because that's what's most heavy on my mind.  I will write about his delivery and finding out about his diagnosis later.  This just seems more pressing.

I believe satan knows more about us than we realize.  We moved from VA to ID last year.  December 2014.  We had a 6 week window to make that move.  It was stressful and I remember one day being so overwhelmed with everything I had fallen into the fetal position in the little boys' bedroom and just cried.  It was one of those "desperate, let it all out cries" but I felt better afterwards.  At that same time, I also found out that my college boyfriend turned fiancé who I broke up with just to serve a mission had died.  For the first time in my life my heart broke.  I cried so much. 

We made the trip, everything fell into place, and our new home proved awesome.  A few months later I had back to back miscarriages.  Then I got pregnant and 2 weeks later blew my knee out playing basketball.  It was the 2nd day of summer when I did this.  I was couch bound for several weeks then limped around for the rest of the summer.  The kids were awesome.  They totally upped their games and took on a lot of the responsibilities themselves. 

I've always prided myself on not really struggling with depression and being in control.  I do give the credit to exercise.  There is absolutely nothing that a good little run can't take care of when I'm feeling overwhelmed or down.  I love sports and working out.  It's a huge reason why I am so supportive of my kids playing sports and being active.  It'll serve them their entire lives.

I normally work out and play sports throughout my pregnancies.  My theory is, "if they say listening to Mozart or reading to your growing belly helps make your child smarter, then playing sports and working out will make your child an athlete."  ;)  Just another bonus to staying active whilst pregnant in my opinion.

This go around, I couldn't.  As soon as I healed enough to start working out, SOMETHING got in the way.  Sick kids so no gym, fall turned into winter and holy cow, the winters here are nothing like my mild ones back in VA.  I couldn't take the little ones out much at all for walks.  And talk about GRAY!  The entire month of January was seriously ALL GRAY.  Welcome to ID I guess?

What I didn't see coming was how this all was affecting me.  I found myself irritable, impatient and scatterbrained more than usual.  And that was when satan went in for the strike.

I started questioning and doubting so much.  I'd randomly write on pieces of paper, "what's happening to me?"  I even started wondering if I had made the right decision 20 plus years ago to break up with Dirk to serve a mission.  I found myself questioning so much about the church.  Yes, I have a testimony of Joseph Smith seeing Heavenly Father and Jesus, thus being called as a prophet in these latter day and yes, I have a testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, but other things started bothering me about the church.  And it truly scared me.  And when I prayed or read scriptures looking for answers, the heavens just felt so closed off to me.  Nothing.

It even got to the point that I REALLY began to question my worth as a mother.  Even my role as a wife.  It just really sucked that I was 42, living in a 1600 square foot home with kids who, like lemmings, were feeling the squeeze and taking it out on each other.  Bickering over stupid things, being ungrateful, demanding things I would have NEVER even THOUGHT to ask for as a child.  It got to the point that I remember thinking, "have I been brainwashed as a Mormon into thinking that motherhood is all that it's cracked up to be?"  I started to really feel like I was wasting my time and being a wife and mother was really, for the birds.

I pleaded so much with my Heavenly Father to ease my thoughts, to bless me with comfort, to really take me out of my thoughts.  And nothing.  Matt gave me blessing after blessing.  Still nothing.

And then Gideon was born.

And all of a sudden it became so clear to me why satan was attacking me so much.  I simply did not know that I was carrying a spirit so elite, so valiant in the pre-existence, that not only did he not need to be tested in the mortal life, but that his only mission here on Earth would be to bring out the best and Christ-like attributes in those who he came into contact with. 

As I held Gideon in my arms during this week, I would feel so many times my dependency on him.  I need him.  My spirit needs him.  I think he took me by the hand many times in the pre-life and gave me strength then.  I am confident he did that with Matt and his siblings, too.  I feel such a bond with him now, as if we've finally been reunited and our relationship we had in the pre-life would "pick up where we left off."  And that was a lot of his picking my hand up and guiding me. 

Now more than ever has my role of mother been strengthened.  It's not brainwashing.  It's what Heavenly Father wants me to do, what He needs me to do.  Coming home after a week away from the kids, I see so clearly how much these sweet spirits of mine need me and how much I need them.  Gideon reminded me of this.  satan would have me turn my back or give up on this role of mine, not that I'd "physically walk away" but easily mentally or emotionally walk away.  I have struggled for YEARS with such negative feelings towards my MIL.  Gone.  Gideon took those away from me. 

Matt told me the other day, as I shared these feelings with him, "I think Gideon came to heal you." 

Matt's right.  As I hold Gideon in the hospital, surrounded by tubes and cords and machines, I feel broken.  I feel so helpless, so desperate to fix his heart and lungs, so ... helpless.  And because of these feelings, these broken feelings, I feel changed.  Softened.  Holding on to negative things just suddenly didn't seem so important.  Feeling his warm body next to mine, looking at his perfect little face, kissing that "extra fat" around his neck,  kissing his chest to somehow give strength to his heart, taking his little hand and running it down my face.  My desire, my NEED to be his Earthly mother has changed me.  I want NOTHING MORE than to be a mom, to be a better mom than I ever have been.  Not just to him but to his siblings.  My gratitude to the Gospel, to being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints has skyrocketed.  My doubts towards the church I recognize as simply my own pride and shortcomings and these are things I can let go of. 

As much as Gideon needs me right now ... it has zero comparison to how much I need him.

In the pre-life, his spirit was stronger than mine, more valiant than mine.  I know he helped me and strengthened me a lot before this Earth life.  I came to Earth needing to prove myself.  He came to Earth not needing to prove himself.  He did come, as Matt so lovingly put it, to heal me.  I just hope and pray and plead to my Heavenly Father that I get to have him on Earth for a long time.