Seriously So Cute

Before June 9, 2008, I had only known one person who had lost their little boy Jacob. My heart ached for them when I saw pictures of their family with only a snapshot of Jacob in the background. I wept for them and felt overwhelming sorrow for them.


I never thought that the day would come when I would feel much the same way they do. I never thought I would have to reference the "before" and "after." My life was very much different in the "before" than it is here in the "after." I feel I have become a stronger person. (that which doesn't break you makes you stronger). I know that I have a long way to go before my heart completely heals and actually dread the day I don't have sorrow for my little angel boy. But I would really like to find the joy in the sorrow, because this is too much at times.


I frequent blogs of fellow moms who have lost their little children and one of them I found, the mom stated on her side bar (paraphrasing) that she is not the same person she was "before" the her baby passed away and those who expected her to be the same "after" were not going to find that person any longer. I feel that I have become a different person. Sure I have the same likes and dislikes as I did before but I was talking with my aunt today about SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) and how to prevent it (she is pregnant with twins and of course we all worry something will happen to our babies). I told her that we really can't prevent God's will. At the same time, I wouldn't encourage wrapping your baby in a million blankets and putting them on a pillow while they sleep just to try out this theory, but we can keep our children as safe as we know how, but inevitable it is in God's hands. We need to align our will with God's.


I believe I have mostly done this throughout my life. I am an "acceptor" of the gospel to an extent. There isn't much I question, because I KNOW it to be true. I just know. I have from the time I was VERY young known that the gospel is true, so why question every single doctrine and principle taught by the leaders of our church? On the same note, I believe our knowledge will deepen as we study each of those doctrines and principles taught. I have just never really questioned them.

Lately, I have hoped and prayed that the Plan of Salvation is true and I have also prayed that the time I see my baby Daxton will come soon. I have gained a sure understanding of the Doctrine of the plan of salvation and have pondered and studied the ways in which I might be worthy to one day return to my Father in Heaven and raise my son.


I have gained a deeper knowledge of the "Plan" and have really been trying to better myself in all aspects of my life. Some days are better than others. Some days it is easier and some days it is harder to do what is expected of me, but as I do them to the best of my ability I feel that the atonement will make up for my shortcomings.


I wanted to post some pictures and memories of the kids....PS they are soooo not in order :)

My cousin sent me a beautiful pendant of my Daxton's footprint on one side and his "Chubba Wubba" and his dates. Along with the pendant was a poem. I would like to share it with you.


These are my thoughts and feelings today.

I never have really cared for the rain. All growing up, I didn't want my hair to get wet when I went out in it because it would get all messed up. It was really annoying. Then I went to Ricks (BYU-I... I am old) and it would snow. I didn't mind the snow because it wasn't really "wet" per se. It also meant that it was "warm" outside. When people said it was, "Warm enough to snow," I thought that they had all gone mad. Warm at 30 degrees? How is that possible?

Well that is mostly beside the point. As I sit here listening to the rain, I see how appropriate it is for my mood. It is like the heavens are mourning. They mourn for me, they mourn for others who have lost children, they mourn for those who are suffering unbearable trials, they mourn for those who have cause to mourn. The rain is indicative of my mood this evening.

The past few days have been wonderful. I have been surrounded by people whom I love and hold dear to my heart in every way. Except for one. The rain shows my emotions, from the cloudy skies to the big drops, to the small drops, to no more drops as if there are not any more tears to be shed. When I go into my "spot" and bury my head, the tears start out big, the sobs start out noisy, then they go to the small drops with just sniffles of sorrow, and when I have run out of tears for the time being, they stop altogether. Just like the rain.

The great thing about rain is that it stops. I sometimes feel like I live with a cloud over me, so I am glad I don't live in very rainy country, it would do nothing for my mood. When the rain stops, the clouds part and the sun shines through. It always does. It is like God's way of telling me that the sun shines eventually and you will eventually be able to enjoy it. Now don't get me wrong, I do enjoy a good sunny day, but every once in awhile I need a rainy one.

Today is my birthday. 28 years old. That may seem young to most of you out there, but I feel OLD!!! There are times when I think that I have had a lot of "life experiences" and that is why I feel old. I actually have felt young up to this point in my life. My husband was talking to my father in law and he asked if I felt a year older.... huh, I feel LOTS of years older.

The last year has been good to me. I was able to graduate from nursing school, get a good job in the NICU (newborn intensive care unit) that I love love love, have the MOST BEAUTIFUL BABY in the history of time. In fact I am so worried for when I have another that he/she won't be as beautiful as Daxton. He is a hard act to follow. And my little baby was sent home to his Father in Heaven. Lets not dwell to long here :). I joined a new "club." I have made some new friends. People I never would have met otherwise, only people I would have continued to mourn with from the other side.

One of these new friends I met was Stephanie (many of you may know her :)) and we were able to spend a weekend together in Vegas while Doug was on a business trip. I thought that I would be an emotional wreck. In fact I had saved up all my sorrows and pains for this particular weekend so that I could let them all out. Well this wasn't the case. We had a great time together with our families. We were like kindred spirits, our girls are about the same age, and our husbands meshed well also (which is SO a plus!).

Doing the normal everyday things with someone who "knows" my joys and sorrows was easier to make it through the day without losing it. I am glad that were able to gain strength from one another. I know that Daxton and Camille were there to watch us, I know they are friends and they probably brought our families together so that we could have someone to travel the journey with.

Tonight in Mikenna's prayers she blessed that Daxton and Camille would be safe with Jesus and that they would come home safe. Oh bless the little children. I am grateful that I will be able to raise him all by himself. I will be able to love and snuggle and cuddle him all the day long!!! I am grateful for the last year, that I could spend time with my girls and my son. I am grateful for the strength I have had to get me through this time in my life and for the testimony I have gained from this experience.

What is an appendage you ask? Well it is a limb, an arm or a leg.

When a limb is lost, a person often experiences phantom pain. To be more specific, I will use an example. A patient loses their arm from the elbow down and experiences pain in their fingers from that same arm. This is obviously not so, but the pain is very real, even though the limb is no longer there. Sometimes medication is used to relieve this pain and sometimes it is not.

Another example is referred pain. I experience this when I have Cesarean sections with my babies. Pain from my abdomen is "referred" to my shoulders where I feel the actual pain. It doesn't make sense.... the pain is in my shoulders NOT my abdomen, but diagnostically that is just how it is.

This leads me to the thoughts that I have now about Daxton. I know he is gone, just like the person who has lost a limb. Without knowing, this is how I explain my loss to other people. It is like I have lost my arm or my leg. I just have to keep telling my brain it is gone. Sometimes it listens and sometimes it don't :). For the most part everyday life has taken on a new routine, but every once in awhile like 2 or 3 times a day, I will have the thought.... I need to get Daxton in bed or I need to get Daxton something to eat or Daxton needs a bath tonight.

My brain knows that my reality has changed. However, my heart keeps thinking that he is somehow around. It is hard to explain. It is also hard to get used to. I only had him for one short year and 9 days, but he was my everything. I did everything with him in my arms or with him in tow. There was rarely a moment when we were separated that he wasn't sleeping and even then.... So as my reality changes and I realize that I have "lost a limb," I have to keep reminding my brain that I no longer have my Daxton here on earth.

As I have said before, I know that I will see him again. I know that I will raise him someday and he will have all my love and attention all to himself. I look forward to that day, and I am one day closer to day than I was yesterday.

I make the best chocolate chip cookies. EVER. It is a "secret" recipe. Friends give me a hard time, but really I like to keep it a secret because I like to do stuff for people. If I were to give them my recipe I wouldn't be able to make cookies for them anymore, because they would be able to do it themselves.... that would make me sad.

I have newly discovered the pizzookie. Well I actually have had it at several places and not really so much new to it from other places, but as far as making it myself? Well I just discovered I can make it just as good if not better than lets say, Oreganos :).

Tonight I made a pizzookie. Life doesn't get much better than hot chocolate chip cookie dough with Hagan Daaz vanilla ice cream. So life is good tonight.

Now, just in case you were all wondering. I wasn't always the best cookie maker I know.... one time when I was like oh lets say 8 (ok really 12, but who is counting), I made some cookies with vegetable oil, now the recipe called for oil, but this wasn't just any kind of oil, it was USED cooking oil :). Let us just say.... the cookies were nothing short of TERRIBLE!!!!

Another time? Well I am just really pushing it here, but well I got a pie filling recipe from a friend and it called for 1 cup flour, some fruit, and some other stuff. I thought it was somewhat weird that there was no sugar in the recipe, but I continued to make the filling. Well I mixed it, cooked it, and then tasted.... once again as you can imagine TERRIBLE!!!! I called my friend and she said oh, it was sugar and not flour. Yeah thanks for SHARING!!!!

Today, I am a bit better at cooking and I know how to read a recipe, which is always a good thing.

When I work, it seems like I lose 4 days in a row. I just have time to eat, sleep, and just play with the kids for a minute. No time for much else, so I have been a slacker for the last few days as far as blogging goes. 

Today for our ward, was Lesson 14, "Words of hope and consolation at the time of death." In it there is a section for the death of little children. I have exhausted the quotes from this lesson, but bear with me as I make a point.

With the lesson being as such and my friend teaching the lesson, I saw the look on her face as I walked into the room. She went almost sheet white. I felt so bad for her so...I bailed (This was not the only reason why as you might be able to imagine). I was a coward, a mother who couldn't sit through another "talk" or "lesson" on death. I just couldn't do it. I scurried to the sanctuary of the Primary where kids fidget, have thumb wars....and sing and learn about Jesus. It is peaceful there and I feel the presence of my angel by my side.

I didn't let Doug in on my secret.... I should have. The lesson in Priesthood was taught by another dear friend who did a very good job under the circumstances given him. During the lesson, another friend posed the question of, is it God's will or Accident when death occurs?

I continue to battle with myself over this. One night I was searching on the internet for other mothers who had similar situations to me. I found some. I was horror stricken at the number of women who had lost children similar to the way Daxton had left us. I prayed for them and cried for them. Many of them don't have the Gospel. My first instinct was to become an advocate for window blind safety (I still think this is a good idea), but I struggled with the KNOWLEDGE that it was Daxton's time to go and if it hadn't been this way, it would have been another.

Yes, Daxton's death was an accident, as well as a tragedy, but I KNOW it was God's will. I know that when a child is taken from this earth, no matter how tragic, unfair, or unfathomable it is, that is MUST be God's will. How could I pick myself up off the floor and carry on if it wasn't God's will? How could I have the faith to carry on just ONE more day, let alone 1000 days? I couldn't. I would just stay there and cry in the pillows all the day long.

There were too many pieces, too many instruments, and too many "signs" for me to deny that Daxton returning to our Father in Heaven was God's will. His death was God's will. I know this and I know that God knows this. Each night when I pray my children will be protected when they are not in my sight, I know God is listening. I know He wants to protect my children, I know He is listening to my prayers, they are not going unnoticed. I also know that in order for my prayers to "mean" anything, I have to conclude with "Thy will be done." It is the only way it works. If my will is aligned with God's will, then yes my prayers are answered when I pray that my little ones will be safe.

In answer to the burning question, Accident or God's will? I would have to conclude with it is God's will.

Side note: In response to some emails.... for those of you who want to use "quotes" from my blog, that is great. No problem. If you want to put my blog on your side bar, no problem.

loves to all

As I sit here looking out the window at my dad who is pouring concrete in the backyard around the pool fence ( I know, I am just "watching" him while he is sweating his guts out in this gorgeous AZ weather of 115 degrees) and I can't help but think about the car he has taken in mixing the concrete. Disclaimer: I know nothing about concrete or the likes of it, this is just my thought today :)

It starts out as little particles of dust, then you add water and it forms to kind of a watery clay like substance. You then need to mix it so that the water completely and evenly mixes. Then comes the job of pre pouring the concrete. Great care comes in finding the perfect mold so that the concrete doesn't spill everywhere and ruin what it comes into contact with.

Concrete is an interesting substance. It hardens to the mold in which is poured. My dad has taken great care in forming a mold out of cinder blocks for the concrete to dry in. As he shovels the concrete into this mold he carefully mixes and blends it evenly. When the concrete dries, it will be in the shape he has so carefully manicured it to form.

I think that when we are born we are a lot like the concrete in its grainy form. We are then carefully manicured and formed through the life experiences and trials we are given. Our Father in Heaven is trying to shape us into the best we can be. All things are to give us experience and to help us grow spiritually so that we can live with Him again someday.

Ok maybe that was a stretch :). Loves to all!!

PS: A note from Stephanie :)
Lastly, I am creating a private blog for parents of little children who have died. Every person invited will be invited as an author. We will all be able to post our feelings to the other moms and dads and get support though comments. It is just different talking to those who really KNOW exactly what this feels like. I have found emailing some of these other moms very helpful. I am not including miscarriages and stillborn children parents in this blog. This is not to say those losses are less significant in any way. I just think it is the experience is a little different and I am limited on how many authors I can add on the blog. If there is great interest among those who have lost children in utero, let me know and I create a separate blog for that. I could be on that blog too. :)

As I dropped Mikenna off at school today, seeing all the moms with their babies about the same age as Daxton, and leaving Mikenna to "fend for herself" at school, the weight of the world came crashing down and I lost it. I am sure that those who drove by thought that I was sad because I had just dropped off my little girl at school.

Boy if they just knew that it was more than that. I had to drop off my little boy to the hands of my Father in Heaven almost 10 weeks ago. Has it really been that long? Or has it only been 10 weeks? I don't know anymore.

I did what anybody would do in my situation (right?) and I just sobbed in the parking lot, then I sobbed down the street (going like 10 miles an hour.... sorry to the lady who was behind me :)), and then called somebody who knew exactly how I felt. Surprisingly enough, after we talked I felt better knowing that I wasn't the only mom having a bad day, that I wasn't the only one struggling to get through the next few hours, that I wasn't the only one who would put my girls to bed and wonder what my baby was doing.

I am still here and that is the hard part. I know that I am supposed to live to raise my girls and take care of my husband. I know that I have to put my shoulder to the wheel and push along. I know that this to shall pass. It will be a long hard road, but one day I will wake up and won't feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. I will wake up and be able to have those "sweet memories" of Daxton. I will wake up and actually WANT to get out of bed... :). (who doesn't love sleeping in anyway?).

So I decided I needed some laughter today. I am coming off a 4 day "grief vacay." (obviously) Seems as though this happens about every 3 or 4 days... ish. The "hard" days aren't getting any easier, but the there are more "good" days in between. So I need a good funny story to lift up my spirit :). Here are a few. (They may or may not be true and may or may not be variations of the original story)

The first is about a woman who is going to meet with the Stake President in his office.
Introducing herself, she says,

"Hello, My name is Sister Dam." Then motioning towards the other people in the room with her she simply says,

"And this is the whole Dam Family." LOLOLOL!!!

The second is about a boy receiving his Eagle Scout award.

So as they were all sitting in the audience (in the chapel), there was a video shown that was on a much to small screen with just less than appropriate music for the chapel. Don't worry, this Eagle Scout was redeemed when he stood up to the pulpit accepting his Shot Gun..... and then continued to redeem himself when he pulled his brand new shot gun OUT OF THE CASE (remind you we are still in the chapel) and put his finger on the trigger.... and yes my friends he pulled the trigger releasing an audible "click" to the audience.... Is this really a true story? You may never know :).

A Funny Joke:

Knock knock

Who's there?

Smelly mop

Smelly mop who?

LOLOLOLOL!!!!

Well that made me laugh amid the tears. I received a water color painting of Daxton from a VERY talented artist. The piece of work is like nothing I have ever seen before. It looks like him right down to his last eyelash, from his rosy cheeks and red lips to his fingertips. I cried when I saw it and I cry when I walk by it. I need to find the perfect spot in my house and then figure out how to hang it :). It is almost like he is really here, except for the cold glass that separates us when I touch it....

I have a friend who loves puzzles. She will do 1000 piece puzzles in a few days and 3oo piece puzzles in under a few hours. I am amazed each time I watch as she carefully places each piece of the puzzle in the correct spot. Only one piece can go it its own space. No two pieces are the same and no two pieces are interchangeable in where they lay in the puzzle. When the puzzle is complete, it is a great piece of work, planned with thought very carefully by the creator.

There are a million different pieces to this puzzle of the tragedy that we bear. Many people were involved and there were many players in putting it all together. Just one piece placed in a different spot would have completed a different puzzle for sure.

Here are a few pieces of the puzzle I am sure of:

1) I am sure that I was supposed to go to Havasupai. It was where I was supposed to be. I had only left my children one other time and we had been planning this trip for months. I had my reservations about my safety and the difficulty of the hike, but I knew that it was where I was supposed to be.

2) I knew that something bad was going to happen. I didn't know what or who or how, but I knew. I moped all the way to Havasupai and was even quite a bit mopey while we were there. I knew that this was a time for Doug and I to grow closer. So why did I leave you ask? I knew just as sure that I knew something bad would happen that I also needed to go. I have struggled deeply with this, but I know that God had a bigger plan for me.

3) I know that it was my sister who needed to watch my kids. I know this.

4) I know that my Heavenly Father is a true and loving Father in Heaven and He chose Monday morning to take my little baby home, so that I would be able to be there in the hospital. I am glad He chose Monday rather than any of the other days, because there would have been no way to contact me and if there was, it would have been very hard to get off the reservation with alternate plans.

5) The staff at the hospital was the best of the best. After talking with a few of the nurses they recalled that they would not have asked for anyone different on the team there for Daxton.

All these events and many others were orchestrated such that not one instrument was out of tune and no one was playing off key. Heavenly Father's plan is bigger than me. The pieces of my life are put together according to His will and my agency.

I am finally able to share pictures from the day of the funeral and the viewing. I thought that I was going to burn all these pictures, but am now grateful that I just put them in a folder deep in the heart of my computer. This is only a small part of all the effort that went into the viewing and the funeral preparations. It looked beautiful. Everything except for the occasion was PERFECT!!!

The picture was taken right before we left the viewing the night before the funeral. I was kissing my baby good night for the second to last time.
There is always something to laugh about when Savannah is around . For those of you who know her, you know just how true this is....I do not envy the role my father played during all this. He was the one who made "the phone call." When we got to the top of the mountain , I checked my phone as soon as I had service. When I saw there was a message, I knew that it could not be good news. My hands were shaking as I tried desperately to get a hold of my mom, dad, anyone.... I finally did and well let us just say, it was not pretty. We may have been crazy, but I knew that little Daxton wanted us to speak at his funeral. I had previously asked my dad to do "special memories" but then we both came to the conclusion I was supposed to speak about the "special memories" and dad was to share his thoughts.

This was the last time I kissed my baby good night. I have another picture, but it is too full of heartache. So I decided to spare myself the embarassment.

So throughout this whole crappy day, I was glad that my hair looked FANTASTIC!!!! and this dress made me look 10 pounds lighter..... coul
I am grateful for my girls. They give me a reason to get up in the morning, when all I want to do is stay in bed. They make me smile and they make me laugh.

These are all the girl cousins that were at the funeral. I am so glad that they were all able to make it. All of Doug's brothers and sisters were able to make it. It was so heartwarming to see them all make the effort and sacrifice to be with us on this day.

No matter what the act of service is, big or small, it never goes unnoticed. Here is a tribute to those who give service to others in need.

Through this "uphill" in our life, we have been blessed with many kind words, thoughts, and actions. I would like to share just a few. If you are not listed on here, it means that there is not enough space in cyberspace, but I still know who you are and love you VERY much for all that you do.

-Thank you to the City of Mesa and those who made it possible for Doug and I to have a plane chartered from Kingman so that we could be at the hospital with our little boy.

-Thank you to the team at the hospital who were so good with my family and took such good care of us when we finally arrived.

-Thank you to those who made any and ALL contributions to help pay for the funeral services. Who would have thought it would be so expensive. To all of you out there who have kids, get riders on them and then take out a private policy. It is morbid.... I know, but what is 1.50 a month?

-Thank you to all who brought food to my house when I could barely get out of bed in the morning. It was nice to not have to worry about the basic human needs.... not that I was meeting any of those needs. I sure liked the 10 pounds I lost that week, but they liked me too and came back :).

-Thank you to all those who call, email, send notes or packages to the girls, or stop by, just to see how we are doing.

-Thank you to "Sister" Bienz whom Savannah adores and loves to see at church on Sundays.

-Thank you for the yummy treats; cakes, cookies, cinnamon rolls, rolls, and all things chocolate.... and the gift certificates to cold stone or the banana cream pie shakes from sonic.....they are doing nothing for my figure, but they sure help on a not so good day. For those few moments, I can focus on the "tasty" things in life. (Hence the 10 pounds back...grin)

-Thank you to Grandma Walter who stops by in the morning or afternoon to give Savannah a hug and a mint, just because she wants her to. The other day Doug asked Mikenna where grandma was and she replied, "At work, at the store, or buying me something"..... yes she is SOOOO right

-Thank you to Granny Kunz who sends packages to help the girls day a little brighter. They get so excited when they check the mail and there is a letter, card, or better yet a BOX with their names on it.

-Thank you to all those of you who continually pray and support and love us despite our faults, my flakiness (cancelling all things last minute, just because I "don't feel like it." ) Or better yet, forgetting all together.

-And thanks to Steph, my new found friend, who truly understands.

Loves to all!!!!!

I thought I would share some funny "tidbits" about my girlies and others :)

We will start with Savannah:
*Savannah has lost 3 teeth!!! I can't hardly believe it. She doesn't seem old enough to have lost so many. She did lose them all about the same time, so that leaves her pretty toothless.... VERY cute. I asked her if she wanted to put it under her pillow. She agreed that was a good idea, so we carefully placed it in an envelope. Well later on that evening, Doug was putting the girls to bed and Savannah says, "Daddy, I don't want the Fairy to take it, put it up high..." Very funny!

*Tonight during FHE, we were singing a song and Savannah as usual has to get in the "zone" with her full size childrens song book, which seriously is TWO times her size, and then she leads and sings all the words to "I am a Child of God." For those of you who know Savannah, you understand this is a HUGE milestone for her.

*So she started school today and was SO excited! She ran to the bus, tripping along the way, because her backpack weighed two times her weight soaking wet. She got on the bus and promptly pointed to the door and said, "Ok mom, GO!!" RUDE!!!!!

And on to Mikenna
*I was laying by Mikenna on Saturday night and out of the blue, she says, "Mommy, when I start school it is going to be sad." I said (knowing the answer), "Why do you say that?" To which she smartly replies, "Because you are going to be home all by yourself.... but don't worry mommy, you can have my bear." Oh yes, and a sad day it was. Normally I would relish in my solitude, but today was a painful reminder of what was not.

*Mikenna had her first day of "pre-K" today and had a great time. When we arrived at school, I asked her if she was nervous. She said no, but when we pulled up to the school, she said, "Mommy, maybe we could stay in the car for a minute." So we did. We got to her classroom and the teacher was having all the kids line up against the wall with their backpacks against the wall and Mikenna was a bit nervous. Luckily a little friend from church arrived and she could stand by her. After school, the teacher repeated this routine with the kids. Mikenna saw me and I waved her over.... not wanting to disobey her teacher, she looked at me and then went to her teacher, told her, "My mommy is here," gave her a hug and ran over to me. What a girl.

*Today she was playing with one of my friends little boys about Daxton's age and Mikenna said, "Mommy he is not as big as Daxton huh?" I said no he is not, but thought, he will be soon. She is so good with little kids. I think she misses Daxton. She talks about him all the time. "Mommy that is Daxton's favorite toy, huh?" "Mommy Daxton used to go like this...." and then she will show me what he would do.

Me
*Yeah so I went back to work.... It was fine. I was fine when I got there. I was fine when I left work. It was however, VERY sad to only have my girls at the door waving to me in the drive. Daxton was always in Doug's arms when I left for work and I just sobbed all the way to work.

*I have a list a mile long to get through this year while the grilies are in school. I fear I will never get it all done.... so today I did what I could do and ignored the list and watched a movie..... DUH!!!

*There is officially a marker at Daxton's grave. It is not the permanent one, but one nonethless. I went and saw it. It actually looks good. I couldn't stay long though, made it seem a bit more permanent. Not that it wasn't before, but seeing his name on top of his grave.... well I can't really describe that feeling. I keep saying in my head that 50 years is right around the corner, but it seems so long that I will see him again.

*Doug and I had a Guitar Hero standoff, and I must confess, he gave me a run for my money.... but in the end I came out the winner. I think he could sense a little bit of misery and endless wo if he didn't concede :).

While you run, all those who have been training with you are the ones you rely on, draw strength from, and share the sweat and tears with. It isn't until the end of the race that you get to see those who have been silently cheering you on.

When you cross the finish line, it is like no other feeling. You see your loved ones, in this case my husband and other various family members. There are treats such as ice cream, bbq, water (of course), oranges, bagels, anything you could imagine.

I remember just having the "runner's high." To me, it was the ultimate accomplishment for me as a runner. I had set a goal and achieved it to the best that I could. My time wasn't as good as those before me (obviously). I just went at the speed I could with the endurance that I had and performed as well as my body and mind would allow me to.

As I explained this to Doug, I could see the pride in his eyes (or something). He knew I had done my best. He knew this was important to me. He listened to me chatter on and then he helped me in my ice bath and listened to me whine about all my soreness for weeks.

I relate this story much to life. There are uphills and downhills. We are here to be tested. Nobody ever said it would be easy, nobody ever said we wouldn't have deep sorrow, nobody ever could imagine the happiness we would feel or the joy we would feel also.

We were however promised that we would be sent here for a purpose. To gain a body and to learn how body, mind, and spirit all worked together toward one goal. To return to our Father in Heaven. He gave us a set of commandments to follow, much like my marathon training schedule. He gave us trials, much like the uphills I had to climb. He gave us downhills, so that we could draw strength from them and recover from those uphills so that we could have the faith and endurance to climb the next hill.

At the end of the race, or our lives, we will be able to see those who are silently cheering us on. They are rooting for us, they want us to join them again with our Father in Heaven. They pray for us and comfort us in our very darkest moments, so that we can draw strength from them and endure just one more day.

In 2005, I decided it was time to push myself to the limits. I had been awaking at the very early hour of 6am every morning (except Sundays) to run 6 miles. It was challenging, invigorating, and I was in the best physical shape of my life. I was also running my partner ragged, bless her heart.

I knew it was time, it was time a change. When I was in high school, there was a girl who told me that she wanted to run a marathon before she turned 18. I thought to myself, why in the world would anyone run 26.2 miles VOLUNTARILY!!!! She must me crazy. Well my turn came in 2005. I was in my prime, ready to take on the world (or something).

A girl friend from my ward and I started talking. We were going to do the St. George Marathon... crazy or not. We met up with a group of about 5 men and women and began our sweat and tears. We shared many a good moments and many a not so great moments in our 1000 miles of training together. We sweat together, we hurt together, and we prayed we could go the 22nd mile together.

I remember a particular morning on a training run, we had been up since about 415am and were on our 19th mile (with still 2 more to go). We wondered what we were doing to our poor bodies, why in the world were we doing this? We kept our eye on the goal and played a "game." The "I am grateful for..." game. We were grateful for our shoes, for our legs, for the shade, for the previous 19 miles we had already run. We were grateful we had water and sunscreen and hats and sunglasses. It was a not so pretty moment as we were grateful for various things. However, as we realized how grateful we were at a time when we were so tired, weak, and just ready to be done, we were able to carry on.

After all the sweat, tears, soreness, and two very expensive pairs of shoes later, we headed up to St. George for race day. It was exhilarating. The course was beautiful, the morning was beautiful, every one was excited and full of energy. Of course it wasn't all roses, one of the members of our group got the "flu" and was sick the night before and that morning, but she persevered. All that hard work was not going to waste on her.

We began the race, all pumped and ready to go. We had all the energy and excitement in the world, this was what we had trained for. The wind was blowing to keep us cool, we had water and gatorade, ipods (well something like that), and each other. It was invigorating. The first 7 miles, I hit my best time ever!!! It was all downhill (kind of).

And then came our first hill.... (dun dun dun). It was uphill for what seemed like eternity, really it was just a mile (JUST a mile HA!!). I felt like I was going to pass out, but this is what I had been waiting for, I still had 19 miles to go, I couldn't poop out now. So persevered we did. We said our "gratefuls" and up we went. Well you know that what goes up must come down and boy were we grateful for the downhill after that uphill. It was easy sailing. I thought "OH, this is easy..." and we continued on.

As we ran, we thought about the people who were waiting at each point to cheer us on, boy were we grateful for them. They boosted our energy, increased our confidence, and renewed our vigor to carry on. As we saw our husbands, they cheered and put smiles on our faces. Then came the halfway mark, 13.1 miles. Boy the countdown could now begin, we knew there was an end in our sight.

And then.... the wall. Everyone hits the wall. It could be mile 10, 15, 18, 21, 25, mine came at about mile 22. I thought to myself, there is no way I can make this. I can't do this, it is just too hard. There is a car right behind me that I could just wave my hand and he would pick me up and take me to the finish line, simple as that. Then I thought to myself, seriously? Seriously? You spent all that time preparing and training and eating right and all that TIME? And you are going to give up? Are you crazy? YES!!!! LOL. So I told my running partner and she said, "You can do it." I put my ear phones on and up ahead was the crowd.

They were everywhere, there were so many people cheering us on, little kids putting their hands out so that we could slap their hands. They were cheering for me, they were rooting for me. I knew that I could do it then. I said a prayer (one of MANY during that race) and off I went with renewed (well kind of) energy and mentality to continue with the race. I wasn't about to give up. I am not a quitter and if the one person in my group could go on after puking all night, then I sure as heck could. So I carried on. I ran my little heart out.

My friend and I saw the finish line up ahead. We looked at each other, grabbed one another's hand and raced for the finish line. 26.2 miles. We did it and we did it together. I know that I could not have done it without her. We knew the sweat and pain and heartache and soreness like no one else. We knew all the hours and money and time and sleep we gave up to accomplish this goal. And finish we did. It was another exhilarating moment, a real sense of accomplishment.

The marathon was complete and we had accomplished our goal.

Our trip to Havasupai holds a very "odd" spot in my heart, for this was the time that Daxton was taken from us. I can place my footsteps at each minute of the morning on Monday, June 9. Despite my better judgement my mind continually wanders to the morning I was hiking out singing Bon Jovi at the top of my lungs while events transpired as such.

However, we were able to meet some very incredible people along our journey. Sweating and hiking miles on end forms a bond that is unbroken. Among these was a guy named Reuben. His wife who we had not and have not met personally has spent countless hours of her most precious time putting together this phenomenal video with pictures and music to our little chubba wubba's life. I could never thank her enough or ever pay her enough for the kindness she has rendered on behalf of my little angel.

Here is the result of her labors:

Click here

You will need to download Quicktime player if you don't already have it. It takes but a few moments, so while you wait, grab yourself a box of tissues to enjoy 12 minutes of my baby's pictures. It is a real tear jerker. Well for me anyway :).

To visit her website:

Click here for Jen's blog

As I was reading back on previous posts, I came across one that said that I wasn't looking forward to anything that life was going by too quickly and that I just wanted to enjoy every day of it. I believe it was at this time the Lord was preparing me to take my most precious baby away from me. He knew that in order for me to now look back with no regrets that I had to appreciate the moments with Daxton and to not let them pass by to quickly by wishing the days away.

As it is, I have joined a very unique club of men and women who have lost childrent. The bond we share is impenetrable. I would not wish losing a child upon anyone, nor would I wish on them a trial more than they can bear. Which leads me to a thought I have been having. Of course, in any situation, you look around and see others who either have it better or worse or the same as you and you begin to compare (subconsciously of course). You compare houses, clothes, cars, and other things. Then you look a little deeper and you compare trials. They have it harder than you or you have it harder than them. How come they don't get this trial or that trial?

These are unfair and very presumptuous thoughts on my part. How can I look around and say that my "trial" is harder than so and so's trial when their trial to them may be just as hard as my trial to them. When we compare trials and different situations, it is like comparing apples to oranges. There is really no way to compare, let alone know how each person feels about each trial they are facing. What might break me might be fairly easy to someone else.

Our Father in Heaven knows each and every one of us. Our Savior, even Jesus Christ, knows our pains. He knows our sufferings. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He will always be with us in our trials and tribulations. He will never give us more than we can handle (without His help). When we are in our worst moments, He is with us. He helps us along the way. I know in these 7 weeks that my Savior and Father in Heaven have been very close. They have watched over me in my darkest hours. I know they are not very far away and that they will always be with me.