6 months

 I have so much on my mind so please remember that this is some sort of weird therapy for me and I have always been way too blunt, judge if you must.

You know that line, "When it rains, it pours"?

I think that's true for some, but for my life right now its, "When it rains, get ready for a tsunami".

Last year when we lost Conor there were a few other things going on that I wouldn't consider awesome. We had some major car problems, Chris was trying to figure out a job and we had saved up a measly $4,000 for a down payment on a house and then had to spend every last penny on little things like, burying my second child. I remember telling myself that that was it. I've heard bad things happen in three's, like waves, so I was really trying to live by that. Stupid I know, but it's got to end at some point right? And I had hope back then.

Then we lost our little miss, I killed a dog, we moved (which is good) but Owen started going crazy, then Chris started the academy (which is also good... and bad-we hardly ever see him and we just found out that he is working Christmas Eve and Christmas Day for the next three years #bottomofthetotempoleprobs) and then Chris got pulled over, I got pulled over, I found out that I need total knee replacements and neither of our insurances will pay for the testing we need done in order to try for another baby.. if we even decide to do so.

{I'm just now reading it back to myself and I realized if you didn't know what happened with the dog it probably sounds pretty bad, it was. I was in the Costco parking lot and a dog (not a small one) ran out in front of me and both sets of tires went over it. There was whining and crying (from both parties), blood and finally death, and the Animal Control}.

Hold on a second while I reminisce about the carefree times when I had a killer tan and body.

Okay, I'm done. You all know I hated it out there and now, of course like you told me it would be, it is in my memory as a time of pure bliss.

About the ticket.. he was in a construction zone, without his license going 16 over. Flashed that beautiful smile and got what we like to call, "The Hendrickson Discount"- (that's a post for a later time). No ticket, just a warning. Later that week, I get pulled over, going 79 in a 70. Owen is screaming and crying because, well, he doesn't want to go to jail and I'm WAY more emotional than I should be, the Highway Patrolman is WAY more bent out of shape than he should be and I paid my $120 ticket.

I have severe osteoarthritis in both of my knees. We think it's genetic.. so maybe a good thing more than half of my kids died. (it's either I'm joking or crying about it, just accept it). I need both of my knees completely replaced but we don't want to do it yet because well, I am only 23. I've had a series of three painful gel injections to help relieve the pain for some time until I just can't take it anymore. I have six weeks until I can "judge" them but as of this moment they are both throbbing.. so for now we're praying this will work.

 I guess now I'm just waiting to see what else is coming. I thought about carrying around an umbrella but then I thought I'd probably get struck by lightening.  I know this is so bad and morbid but it's kinda my life now but I had a dream about Chris dying and I woke up feeling sad but not surprised. Wrong in so many ways right? When I had those dreams as a newly married wife, I would wake up crying and throw a tantrum when he had to go to class. You could say I was pretty mature back then.

Also- this was three years ago today. (Thanks Facebook for reminding me that I have a lot to be grateful for)

And when I say "newly married" I mean, like a year. I know it's only been five but in a good and bad way it feels like we've been together for decades, maybe even centuries. I think Conor and Charlotte aged us. We may look young but we feel old and so very experienced, in the best possible way.

Some may say it's just a bad attitude I have but I've learned sometimes/most of the time life just sucks. There is no explanation and probably no reason (for the ticket anyway, there better be one for Charlotte). Either way, this tsunami named life hit us and we are drowning and it doesn't look like the waters are drifting out anytime soon.

We met with a genetic counselor at my maternal fetal office and we talked about the possibilities of what chromosomal defect Charlotte had. They won't say that for sure she had Pallister Killians because it's so hard to diagnose but they keep telling me that's what she had. It's all very confusing. She said the likelihood of one of us being a carrier of a genetic defect is "extremely" low. "Less than 1%" she said. I then reminded her that I've lost two babies in less than a year, both due to so called "extremely" rare conditions. I told her that Chris and I make that 1% statistic possible. She laughed and said "Ya, true. Okay sorry".

So there are two tests we wanted to get done, one testing specifically for a 12th chromosome defect. And the other for any chromosome abnormality. By testing for the 12th we would be able to see which, if either, parent the problem came from, Chris or I. Obviously NOT to place blame, because honestly I've already been blaming someone, but it would be to know if there is a problem at all.

You know, a couple years ago when I watched friends lose their babies, I felt bad for them but not at all understanding the depth of grief and pain they were experiencing, thinking to myself about how I would handle it. I told myself so many things that I would never do. I really thought I knew how I would handle it, how I would cope with it.
I would never blame anyone.
I would never blame God.
Or Chris.
Or myself.
I would never doubt.
I would never question.
Because well, there is a plan.
Basically I would be just fine because I understood the Gospel.
I am here to tell you that's all wrong.

Sure it's better to have some understanding of the Gospel. But does it make it in any way easier? I am here to tell you no. These last five months have been the scariest, most destructive to my soul, heart breaking months of my life. (And I pray I never feel that way ever again).

I have done them all.
I have blamed God.
I have hated God. (not my finest moment)
I have blamed myself.
I have blamed my doctors.
The hospital.
I have questioned and doubted.
If there is a God.
If he cares about me let alone anybody.
If he heard my prayers begging for my baby.
If he has a heart.
I have begged for an answer.
I have questioned life.
If it's worth living.
I have felt it all.

But in the midst of all of this, I started praying again. Just last week. They've been angry prayers. But at least I'm starting somewhere. Chris and I sat down to talk about life and he told me he saw this quote that said

"If you are on the right path, 

it will always be uphill"
Pres. Eyring 

I just cried. And then we laughed. Because I feel like we are trying to climb Everest in our swimsuits without oxygen or food. We are dying over here. Nothing is making sense. We are so confused. We haven't gotten any answers (and don't expect to). We don't know where to go from here. I don't fit in anywhere. All of my friends are either pregnant or just had a baby, which is what they should be doing At our age that's what everyone is supposed to be doing and we can't. And I truly, truly am happy for them I just feel so left out. I should be talking pregnancy or baby and I just can't, well I can but things get really awkward really fast when I bring up my dead babies.

See, you feel weird now don't you?

I know this post is forever long but I just feel I need to share I am okay. Really.
Something flipped a switch in my brain this last week. When the, so called, "new" LDS church policy came out. It's totally not "new" by the way. When I first read it I thought, well "That's actually really kind".

Not that I was surprised. But I thought, for the church to put families, no matter how they are made, first. That is kind. That is the definition of charity.

I put that thought and all of the articles to sleep. When I woke the next morning I was appalled by the venomous words coming from dear friends about the church, the prophet and apostles and this policy. I was in shock. Now days, everyone has an opinion, whether it's hurtful or not, they love to share it. It's like they can't get enough of themselves.

I am usually pretty quiet when it comes to politics because I don't want my head to get bitten off. Cyber bullying is horrid these days. But this I just couldn't shake. I was getting so mad at the "active, good, temple worthy" friends bashing my prophet and my church, only a few stepping up and saying that they still believe and sustain the prophet. (Love me some returned missionaries that don't care what people say)

Then I thought, I said "my prophet", "my church".

And something changed.
I had to decide.
I had to choose,
Do I believe in a living God, who tells his prophets how to direct us
or do I not?
Am I going to let how much I know crumble because of something I don't?

I found this quote a while ago and it's exactly what I needed to hear.

"When adversity comes, don't let 

something you don't fully understand 

unravel everything you do know". 

 Elder Kevin W. Pearson

Right then I knew. I believed. I always have but I am telling you it got rocky for a while. And my relationship is changing with him. I'm not sure how yet but it just is. 

Hopefully we can get some answers. To anything. And we're doing okay. We visit our babies often and dream everyday but I am determined to see them again.

Hanging some pictures and I found the most perfect shadow box for her dress.