Ain’t Nobody Got Time For That

 

Ok, so Little Miss is turning 5 in a week and a half.

And as much as I’d love to be that Pinterest mom that has perfectly done hair and nails and throws the most on point thematic party down to the T; including snacks, parties favors, etc….

I am not her!

I’m the messy bun mom, wearing morning breakfast left overs and trying to keep the baby  from being smothered by his sister’s “loving” embrace or flattened by the older brother who thinks he’s a WWF wrestler.

My sister Lindsay is a freak’n rockstar when it comes to this kind of thign.  She puts Pinterest to shame.  Me…ya I like to compare myself to Cliff Notes.

You know -that compact yellow holy bible for high schoolers that allows you to look and sound like your awesome and know everything without really having to read the entire novel or do all the critical thinking.

Yup…I’m Cliff Notes.

If you are like me- meaning you like cutesy, artsy fartsy stuff but are super busy with other kids, life and attempting to maintain your sanity then I recommend the doing what I do.  Choose a few key items to match the theme then let everything else go.  I like to select the most visible things, like the cake.

So, for Sarah’s upcoming party I’m doing a mermaid theme party. I’m focusing on the cake, main activity (pool party) and gifts.

Again, don’t overwhelm yourself.  Check out what I’ve got planned, take notes, and do your best.

Thematic cake– purchased or hand made.  I’m doing Ariel pull apart cupcakes.  Here’s my first trial run.  My next mermaid will be much less busty.  I got a little carried away with the frosting.  Hehe.

DSC_2017

Oceanic Face Painting

I purchased a face painting kit from #AvaandFrankPaints.  The face and body paint palette is vegan, non-toxic, comes with 3 brushes, 2 sponges and 16 colors including gold and silver. The colors are beautiful and come off easily with water.

My kids love getting their face painted and both my hubby and I like drawing so it’s a win all around. Personally, I think it’s awesome paint. The paint is non toxic, nut-free, paraben-free, fragrance-free, lead-free, lanolin-free, gluten free, hypo-allergenic, vegan, cruelty-free, FDA compliant and tested by US PHD cosmeticians. It’s going to be a smash.  Seriously it’s the best.  I’m going to have so much fun with it.  I’m so happy I got to purchase it at a discount in exchange for a review. The kids are going to love it at the party!

Activity– Swimming…that’s pretty mermaidy… right? I mean what kids doesn’t love swimming.  Sarah is a freak’n rockstar and basically taught herself how to swim.

Mermaid Gifts

I found an app that I love called Wish.  I call it my Chinese Amazon.  The prices are totally cheap and cute.  It takes  a while to ship though.  Give it a month at least.  I’m kind of obsessed with it.  Anyways, while doing Christmas shopping last year I went ahead and got Sarah’s Birthday stuff.  I’m so excited to give them to her.  Here’s a sneak peak.

With everything else I’m taking it easy.  There will be outdoor games and a painting station that children can go to whenever they feel like it.

No organized games here.  I’m not that mom.

But you know what…that’s ok.  Kids like Cliff Notes.  It’s true.  Kids are happy just being around other kids. Why stress myself out.  I will get to relax and talk to their parents. and the party will have the overall appearance of Pinterest greatness.

Maybe for added measure, I’ll put out some Goldfish crackers.

We’ll see.

Sarah’s party may not be the most flashy and beautifully thematic party but I know my daughter is going to love it and I’m going to have a good time.

And you know what..that is all that matters.

3 Is The New 6

“Now, I see we didn’t do x-rays last time?  Remind me why that is again?” a short, latino hygienist asks thru her round spectacles.

I quickly reply “Because I was pregnant” while bracing myself for a series of questions I know are to come.  Questions that I am annoyingly asked on the regular.  By complete strangers, I may add.  The same questions that invoke feelings of frustration, ironic humor and a tint of “none of your damn business”…I mean… a sense of privy.

“Oh, really?  How many kids do you have? ”

And so it begins.

I politely answer, “Three.”

“Oh, wow.  How old?”

Yup, saw that one coming.

“Four, two, and four months.”  

And what will it be next?  Will it be “So this is your last, right?”  “Are you done?” “Are you going to have another one?” or is the lucky winner going to be plain yet loud “I don’t know how you have more than one;  and all so little.”

“Are you going to have another one?”  Winner…winner…chicken dinner.

And the answer….I don’t know. Having three kids now a days is hard!

I am the last of six.  I’m the oops baby.  The “I’m pregnant?  I thought I was going through menopause baby?”  I’m the envied sibling, because by the time I came mom and dad had money to spend.  My husband has three other siblings.  And to top it off, I’m Mormon.  We’re programmed to have like eight kids, right?!  So why is it that I am so unwilling to think about having more kids right now?

Could it be the fact that I just had a kid?  Possibly.

Could it be that my baby is the easiest of my three kids?  Probably.  No, really.  The other two are kicking my butt.  I mean, how funny is that the one child who depends solely on me to meet his every need is the easiest?  That’s irony for you.

Or is it that in today’s world 3 is the new 6?

Forget, the exorbitant cost of vacationing with a large family or simply going out to eat. Let’s briefly reflect on the required things, like feeding all 6 mouths.  I’ve gone grocery shopping with three kids and by the end look like I just crossed the plains by handcart; that or am secretly plotting my own kidnapping so I can have a five minute break without kids.

grocery

I don’t know how women like my mother had six kids.  Six unique, different personalities interacting on a daily basis without the blessings of iPhones, tablets and Disney Jr.  Did they ever leave the house?  How did they go out to eat?  Or grocery shop for that matter?  Better yet, how did they keep madness from ensuing, stopping sibling tussles from turning into bitter rivalries and blood baths equivalent to the Hatfields and McCoys, the Jets vs Sharks, Bloods vs Crips (What? I’m from California.  Can I not make mention of that?)  Ok..ok.. how about Lindsey Lohan vs sobriety?  You get the point.

To those men and woman who choose to have large families, I salute you.  And to those who in this day and age are going for a handful or more, I don’t know how you do it but BRAVO.  I swear Heavenly Father is sending down some of his most stubborn strongest spirits to endure such a world.

My daughter has a mind of her own.  Good luck telling her to do or think something she doesn’t want.  You almost never win.  She is that set in her ways.  This is why my husband and I are so determined to raise our children not just in the church, but ridiculously active followers of Christ.  I’m convinced that Sarah is just like her father.  The only thing that is going to change her mind is the Holy Ghost.  I know that if she gains a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ, she will not falter.  And if you try to get her to think anything contrary….well, good luck to you.  It ain’t happening.

DSC_0947.jpg

My daughter isn’t a unicorn.  Rather, I am finding many other parents who share similar battle stories.  We wear our scars (i.e. spit-up riddled clothing, unkept messy hair, and memories of that horrible grocery trip) as badges of honor.  We are all in the same fox hole, afraid to lift our heads up for fear of it being blown off.  And like me, they too, are baffled by these little mustangs coming down to earth.  Were children always like this or is it truly a “gift” they have inherited in the pre-existence to survive the negative ideas and stereotypes of today’s world?

I tend to lean to the former.

“Are you pregnant?”  The technician asks as she places a ridiculously heavy lead vest on me while prepping to take x-rays.

My response: “I better not be.”

After all 3 is the new 6.

IMG_2693

 

 

 

 

 

Hang In There Momma

 12794479_1127330407297988_2695354613221122817_nPhoto by Jessica Gaines of Chasing Sammi Photography

 

To that momma struggling to hold back the tears and overwhelming feelings of grief and failure with breastfeeding, I love you.  Go ahead and cry.

 

 To that momma who is weighing the pros and cons of switching to formula, you are not alone.

 

To the momma who’s kid just won’t latch right, carry on.

 

To all of you, I promise it gets better.

 

thumb_thumb_DSC00725_1024_1024My Beautiful Daughter

 

I chose to breastfeed.  Unfortunately, it didn’t come so naturally and easy.  After I had my daughter, I quickly came to understand why someone may give up breastfeeding.

 

Breastfeeding is hard.

 

I went to a dark place after the birth of my daughter.  I was a postpartum mess as I dealt with strong feelings of grief, dismay and failure.

 

Why?
I couldn’t feed my daughter.  I tried and tried, then tried some more with little success.  My breasts were manhandled by way too many people as they each attempted to show me the right way to feed my midget; like they were a bag of frosting being shoved into a closed lipped, diabetic’s mouth. And I still looked 4 months pregnant.

 

I had very few feeding sessions that went well.  It was 45-90 minutes of confusion, frustration and utter despair.  I would try my best but my helpless little girl would tighten up and screech out in what I later came to realize was gas pain.  I felt like a horrible mom.  Why can’t I feed my own child?  What is wrong with me?  She can do it.  Why not me?

 

12006157_10204800113102721_5455079070569703408_n
Photo by Jessica Gaines of Chasing Sammi Photography

 

It got to the point where my husband would get his worried look on his face and take Sarah away from me for a little.  “I’m gonna take her for a little.  Why don’t you take a bath?”  I’m still not sure if it was out of pity, fear or protection; either way I needed it.  With that came relief and then further guilt.  This new mom was getting her butt kicked. I even missed attending my sister’s wedding because I was such hot mess.

 

Eventually, I learned that Sarah had latch issues due to a mild tied tongue.  That combined with a fast and heavy let down gave little miss a great deal of gas and stomach pain.  I, being a new mom, didn’t know or recognize the signs of gas.  All I knew was that she couldn’t or wouldn’t eat. It wasn’t until my sister came to visit that she immediately noticed Sarah pulling her legs up- a classic sign of gas.  Where was she weeks before?  My poor little girl had suffered so much.  

 

My sister taught me what to look for and different ways to get the gas out. There is this one move she called that soda pop, where you lay your baby upside down, their back against your chest while you firmly massage his/her belly with you fingers, then quickly bring them right side up and push their belly against your shoulder and pat out a burp; or spit up in my case.  I also learned the miraculous power of gripe water.

 

 

I am proud to say I didn’t give up. I joined a breastfeeding class a week or two after Sarah was born and faithfully attending for a year.  The lactation consultant, Tracy Grady was my saving grace! She was so patient and supportive as were the other ladies in the group who would see me break down and over encouraging words and personal stories.  I joined mommy groups.  I bought lanolin.  I read.  I prayed.  I’m pretty sure I even asked my husband to give me a priesthood blessing.

 

With time, Sarah’s tied tongue stretched out enough and her latch got better. I learned to recognize signs of distress and a variety of ways to treat gas pains.  My favorite is the “I Love U” belly massage. Or is it the “Karate Kid belly massage?” You know… wax on wax off.  Either way, after three months of what seemed like endless tears, pain and sadness (on both our parts), depression and feelings of inadequacy, Sarah and I began to turn a corner.

 

I watched what I ate to avoid gassy foods. I endured bites, cracked and bleeding nipples, soreness, milk blebs (blisters on your nipples) ***sorry male readers for repeatedly writing nipples*** Luckily, I never got mastitis.  I went through a postpartum depression that my husband and I were not prepared for.  Poor guy.  I broke down in tears more times that I can count. But in the end, I endured and am damn proud of that fact.

 

974125_10151608213059763_747893005_n.jpg

 

I successfully breastfed my daughter for 16 months.  I fought a valiant fight and won.  But my accomplishment is not and should not be the standard.  Nor should it make someone feel bad about only breastfeeding  3 months or not at all.  To each their own.

 

What I can say is that I now completely understand why people throw in the towel or chose from the start to not breastfeed.  I almost gave up many times.  If I didn’t have my breastfeeding support group’s weekly meetings and their Facebook page (which I still frequent), supportive family, friends, and my ridiculously  inherit stubborn nature, I would have been right there with you and that would have been ok.

 

 12803002_1127330550631307_5888231372607010864_n Special Thanks to K. Crawford

 

Each of us must decide what is best for our kiddo and ourselves. For me it was breastfeeding.  In the beginning it was an emotional rollercoaster but so worth it.  In those quiet moments, where my daughter would peacefully drink as she looked up me with these beautiful brown eyes, I knew it was worth it.   When she would place her soft, small hand on my breast while receiving nourishment, I knew it was more than just food, but love and comfort as well.  All the tears were worth it.  All the pain, the sorrow, the heartache.  I did what I felt was right for my daughter and believe that both she and I were blessed for it.

 

I have since breast two other children.  Both sons breastfed from the start without a hitch. One still is.  And like Sarah, they too have in their own way shared their gratitude and love while breastfeeding.  Those moments when they briefly stop eating and smile (not just with their lips but eyes as well) remind me it is worth it and coincidentally encourage me to continue with David.  Someday my body will be mine again, but for now I’m perfectly content sharing it with my son.

 

For those mommas who are set to breastfeed and are getting their butts kicked, please know that I am with you.   I support you and believe that you can do it.

Dear Future Daughter of Mine

DSC_2319   To my dearest daughter.  Someday you will be able to read this and I pray that when you do you will know how deeply loved you are.  I love and cherish your feisty demeanor, your endearing smile, your infections laugh and your uncanning ability to make friends wherever you go.  I love your fearless nature and your ability to see and replicate.  Your first time down a fireman’s pole at the playground was after watching another older child do it.  Really, you taught yourself to swim.  The other day you saw a kiddo swinging upside down and thought to yourself that looks fun, I think I’ll do that too.  And you did.

12620444_10153776509051043_372721324_o

I know that we often clash and engage in many ongoing battles over trivial matters like two bucks locking antlers in a futile attempt to draw the attention of a female doe.  As my voice becomes more stern, your little body stands tall, eyes firm, ready for battle.  At that moment, emotions are raging, both of us wanting to win and have the last say.  I tell others that you are just like your daddy and that’s why we butt heads; when in reality you are me- strong, independent, with a false sense that you are never wrong.  And for that, I love you, though I may not always show it.

12620781_10153776515921043_281174930_oI want to let you know that I’m sorry for those days I lost my temper, for those many times I demanded too much of you, my four year old.  How can I expect you to ignore all the siren toys in your room, calling you to play instead of cleaning your room all by yourself.  I’m sorry for the times I put my wants and needs before yours.  For those times, you asked me to play and I didn’t.  You are my ray of light.  I should bask in your warmth and glow so much more.

12633048_10153776510211043_44175359_oSarah, you are a wonderful girl.  Your father and I are so blessed to be your parents.  You do not realize it yet, but your little brother idolizes you.  Please keep that in mind as you grow older and become a teenager.  No crazy stuff please! Whatever you do Evan will follow suit.  And baby David… he gets the biggest toothless, gummy grin when you are near.  I love seeing you care for him, sing to him, play with him and protect him.  You are going to make the most amazing mother.  I can say this with the upmost confidence.

I am not a perfect mother.  There is so much more I need to learn as well as change.  I apologize now for my past mistakes and mistreatments as well as further misgivings.   I thank you in advance for your forgiveness.  “It’s alright mommy.  I give [forgive] you. I love you.”  Oh what joy those phrases bring to me.  You are the light of my life and I promise that I will be the best mommy I can be.  And when I falter, that means mess up, please love me, forgive me and hold my hand.  Together, with daddy and brothers, we will navigate this thing called life.  I love you bug.12636868_10153776509641043_1530683575_o

Are You Gonna Have Another?

So are you guys done or you going to have more kids? I cannot tell you how many freaking times people have asked me that.  As I smile on the outside, on the inside I’m yelling “None of your damn business!”  I still haven’t decided.  And by “decided” I mean that I still haven’t accepted the fact that Jonny is most likely right when he says he feels like there is another one waiting for us.  Either way, I do not want to talk about it at this stage.

DSC05357Is there another kid of future?  I don’t know, maybe.  But for right now all I can focus on is my life at hand and the three minions I’m currently trying to keep alive.  Motherhood, being the most rewarding and beautiful calling on earth, is freaking hard.  My first two, Sarah and Evan, kick my you-know-what a decent amount of time. Seriously, who would have thought that the newborn would be the easiest?  But then again all my kids were easy until they started moving; thats when it all went downhill.  Ironically, as I am sitting here, I’m listening to high pitch screams as my two oldest push and shove each other over a tiny pumpkin that is still left over from Halloween out in the front drive way. And down goes Evan.  Yes, we are those people.  We buy the pumpkins with every intention to have a great family night cutting up and creating fun creations and then the New Year comes in and the pumpkin is still sitting untouched outside.  It now sits on my counter top, waiting for me to possibly turn it into soup but inevitably it will go bad and get thrown into the trash.  Why am I sharing this you ask?  Just to illustrate the fact that my life is in a constant state of chaos.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love my life.  This is the chaos that I’ve wanted for years.  I’m finally getting a chance to stay home raise three beautifully wonderful, sticky, head-strong children while DH spends his days away from home bringing home the bacon, while attending school and serving at church.  Being a SAHM is a calling I have felt drawn to.  Nevertheless, chaos it is.  Fair warning, if you ask me the following: “So, are you guys done or are you going to have another one?” you may get hurt.  A throat punch, quick and unexpected may be in your future.  In reality, this may not happen but oh if you could see inside my head.  It’s hilarious.  The punch.  The look of surprise, mixed with pain in their enlarged eyes as my maniacal laugh echoes in the background.   Sorry you asked on a bad day.  Today’s goal is short and sweet- survival.

What is survival look like, you ask?  Everybody has their own version of surviving.  My survival looks like messy hair thrown into a bun, a makeup-less face and a comfortable oversized shirt riddled with a variety of bodily fluid and food.  Honestly, between the two older kids morning demands and breastfeeding my youngest, I’m lucky if I remember to put deodorant on for the day.  And if I can make it during the day without what can be  called a moment….I call it a success.
You must know what I’m talking about.  If you are a dad and mom then you not only know what I’m talking about but have likewise experienced it in one agree or another.  For those of you who are confused, a moment is that period/time when you are screaming bloody murder either out loud or in your head.  You are about to lose it; not knowing if you can take anymore.  At that moment, all you want is two inches of space or three minutes of alone time to go poop.  That moment is the thing that drives motherly guilt day in and day out….at least it does for me. 
Alright.  Alright.  I know that I sound like a big whiner and I totally hate motherhood.  That couldn’t be farther from the truth.  I love my life.  I love being a mom. I love my 3 children! 12562884_10153766597676043_2045338791_o-2
I love the pure look of joy, when their eyes light up as they  play together; especially when its peacefully play. I love it when the midgets are chasing each other around the house wrestling.  Their giggles are so infectious that you can’t help but smile along.  I love it when my lil’ man runs up to me with a huge grin, says “mommy” in the most endearing way then wraps his tiny, chubby hands around my legs in a giant hug, then immediately turns away to do the same with his baby brother and sister. Seriously, that kid is a lover.  How can my heart not melt when Sarah hands me a gift bag of her toys and reads me the note she wrote: “Dear mom, I love you so much [insert sweet inflection].  I got this gift for you because you are my best friend.” And cue the tears.  And I couldn’t not mention, the huge grin my three month sumo baby gets when he and I make eye contact.
12591900_10153766505486043_135803415_o
Those crazy, unique, little people and my sweet husband are the reason why I love my life and why I love my chaos.  If we decided to grace the world with another Kistemann you will know…promise.  Until then enjoy watching the circus and keep your questions to yourself.

Tender Mercies in Miscarriage

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the passing of my second child.  Thank you Facebook for reminding me of mine with that latest “memories” feature.  I’ve been thinking a lot about this, as I do occasionally; particularly around holiday season.  This post is an open and honest expression of the pain, sorrow and beauty that comes with the loss of a child.  I apologize in advance for any tears shed.  I shared quite a few in writing this. Ok, here we go.

This is me on my 29th birthday.

It was a great day.  My husband took the day off, we got to hear the baby’s heartbeat, go get free food at Joe’s Farm Grill and enjoyed family time.  It was a good day.  Everything seemed to be going well; with the exception of morning sickness which lasted all day.

Fast forward to a few few weeks later when everything turned grey.  Three days after Thanksgiving, I was involved in the car accident.  A teenager decided to blindly enter traffic and T-boned me.  It was in a parking lot of a shopping complex so luckily speeds were not high.  I didn’t think to go to the doctor.  Honestly, I was just happy that my kids who are almost always with me were not in the car at that moment.  A week to two weeks later I went for my scheduled prenatal appointment and found out that we had lost of baby sometime around the time of the car accident.  Whether or not the accident was the cause I will never know.  All I know is that I lost something….a part of me.

I remember the horrible feeling, that sad phone call to my husband, every pain, every sorrow, every horrible thought.  I was heartbroken.  Empty.  What made things worse was a fact that I had lost my baby but not passed him or her.  My lil’ guy was still inside of me.  The irony- my body couldn’t sustain life but would not release its mortal vessel.  Because I was 9 weeks and for a 5 days the doctor gave me the option of waiting to let it pass on its own or have a D&C.  I waited weeks and nothing happened.  It felt like it was never ending; like I was relieving the miscarriage every single day.  My husband and I took a turn for the worse.  He was still angry with God and hurt.  Going to church was even harder.  Overtime, I too became upset with Heavenly Father. I needed to move on and couldn’t knowing that there was a lifeless body inside me.  I got to a morbid place where I was literally googling how to miscarry a baby.  I was drinking raspberry leaf tea and doing all sorts of crazy things.  I was in a dark place.

My husband decided to lift my spirits by sending me to see my sister Lindsay and Indiana.  I prayed so hard that I would pass the baby in Indiana so that Jonny wouldn’t have to be there and deal with that.  Plus, I would have my sister to make things better.  And of course the week and a half past without a change. Being in Indiana was good. Sarah and I got to play in the snow, visit the Children’s Museum, and get pampered by my sister.  I was distracted but the reality never escaped me.

My absence had an even greater affect on my husband.  No one really thinks or talks about the husbands and miscarriage.  They should!  Jonny felt everything as greatly as I did.  We needed to be back together.  He needed me and our chukkas.  Needless to say, Jonny was so happy to have us home.  He immediately held Sarah in his arms at the terminal and didn’t let go.154568_10151351149210210_612961063_n.jpg

After getting home I went in for another appointment.  It got to the point where the doctor said it was no longer healthy and safe for me to wait and that I was going to have to proceed with a D&C.  We did not have the funds to go through such a surgery and frankly, I was scared.  I had read somewhere online about some pills that you could take to encourage your body to release the bad.  I guess some kind of abortion pill.  I asked my doctor about them and why he had never spoken to me about them prior.  He said they were experimental and doctors weren’t sure of dosage but we could try it.  So he wrote me prescription and I went immediatly to Walgreens.

It felt wrong giving that prescription to the pharmacist.  I’m very pro-life and here I was requesting these pills.  I read up on everything I could regarding the pills and its often horrific side-effects (labor pains, hemorrhaging and more).  I was not deterred.  I knew it was what needed to be done.  I didn’t want to scare my husband and with the possibilities of what could happen as consequence to taking the pills.  I did however tell my neighbor and ask her if she would watch my daughter in the event of something bad happening and had to go to the ER.  All the online commentors said that I was going to experience horrible cramping and the best time to take it was at night.  That was my plan.  In the evening, I took 6 pills and prepared myself mentally for the worst.  First tender mercy, I was able to sleep.  Such a blessing.

I awoke at some point with some cramping so I decided to go take a bath. The warm water helped and I was able to relax a little.  I remember the silence, the warmth of the water, the salt of the tears and the feeling the smooth porcelain on my hands as I pushed myself out of the tub.  The weight or pressure from getting out of the water released my baby.  I felt so many emotions at that moment.  Those same emotions I feel right now.  My fear and sorrow were briefly replaced with a feeling of peace.   I cradled the little kidney bean shaped sac in my hands and cried, then said goodbye.  I decided not awake my husband.  I did not want him to have to go through any more pain.  IH was horrible. But at the same time is beautiful.  Earlier that day, I had read an article about the tender mercies of the Lord.  I truly feel that He was with me.  I took six of those pills; a higher dosage than those taken by others online.  I should have had a horrible experience and didn’t.

jesus-with-child-lds-scripturesAt that moment, I truly felt that I had experienced another  tender mercy of the Lord in the passing of my little one. Everything should have been so much worse.  Heavenly Father knew that I had suffered for so long and at that time I needed peace.  The blessing I had received earlier that night from my husband came to pass.  In passing my baby I was able to finally start healing.  I needed it.  We needed it after such a long event that racked our spirituality and marital relationship.  Honestly, I don’t think we truly got better for another year or so.
Now, life is good. I am happily married with three beautiful children. I live near my dear parents who spoil my children like crazy.  Have I forgotten what transpired?  No.  It still hurts everytime I think about it or read an article or Facebook post about miscarriage.  The loss of a child leaves a hole that never really gets filled.  As I reflect on my miscarriage I can recognize the love and comfort I received from my Heavenly Father; not just that moment in the bath tub but throughout the entire process.  This particular trial taught me to have compassion for others.  I have gained empathy and a greater appreciation for life and for my family.  That’s what we’re supposed to do, right?  Learn from our trials and become more like Him.  
My miscarriage is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through.  I’ll openly admit that I may have failed that test.  However, I can honestly say I did learn, grow, and gain positive things from it.  One such is a testimony that I have a loving Heavenly Father who knows my strengths and weaknesses.  He knows our pains and sends the Holy Ghost comfort us.  I know I have a loving brother, Jesus Christ, who suffered and felt my anguish in the Garden of Gethsemene.  It is through that sacrifice that I will be able to live with my family again in heaven.  It is through His atonement that I will experience the greatest blessings my Father has to give; that of eternal families. I love my family and am grateful for all my Father in Heaven bestowed upon me; both blessings and trials. He truly is the God of Love.
If you are interested in learning more about eternal families click here or here.  Thank you for taking the time to read this post.  I hope it reaches someone who needs it.