Wednesday, August 7, 2013

"It's My Party and I'll cry..."

I can't remember how old I was when I first heard these lyrics, "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to, cry if I want to, you would cry to it if happened to you."
In the lyrics this young lady is crying because one of her friends stole her man so to speak.
Over the last few weeks I have been having my own "it's my party and I'll cry if I want to, cry if I want to...
I have been shedding quite a few tears and just down right having my own little pity party.

When I got married all I wanted was to start a family with my best friend.
Needless to say those dreams were shattered.
And I have found myself on an emotional roller coaster ever since.

We were briefly pregnant in 91 but our baby was in the my right tube; not where He was suppose to be.
What my husband remembers is the Dr. letting him know that there was a slim chance of him bringing me home.  I had lost to much blood and I probably would not survive the surgery and blood transfusion.
What I remember was going to a place so beautiful and being with loved ones and spending time with our child we had lost.
He tried to reassure me that I would be all right but it was not His time to come to this earth but he loved both my husband and I very much.
At one point my loved ones told me it was time for me to go and I found myself wanting to stay with them.
I will never forget their response, "what about him."  I looked to who they were pointing at and I saw my husband sitting by my parent's just sobbing.
Next thing I knew I had this great surge of love for him engulf me and knew that he needed me and that I needed to go back.
My next memory was I had been body slammed back into my body and unsure of what had happened.

After losing our first baby I found myself sinking into a great pit of despair.  It was a dark time for me.
Unfortunately, during that dark time my only brother committed suicide.  I went right over the edge.
One dark night I dreamed a dream where I had followed in my brother's footsteps and him and I were going to be reunited.
I was in a place anxiously looking for my brother and when I saw him I was running to meet him I was so excited to see him again.  When I got to him I was shocked to see that he was crying.
I hated to see my brother cry.
As I wiped at his tears and asked why he was crying, he pulled me close and I could feel his tear stained cheek resting against mine as he sobbed, "because you were the strong one."
I woke up my cheeks wet from his tears and my tears whimpering,
"but I don't want to be the strong the one!"

A few years later I was told I could go to the temple oh what a wonderful experience for  me.
I felt my Savior's loving hands as he gently pieced back together my broken heart but there was still that deep longing for a child.

One day just after my popper's had been called home I found my heart breaking because of the one blessing I could not reach, a child.
That night I poured out all my heartache to my other best friend and as I was getting into bed these words started playing out in my mind,
 "Count your many blessings, name them one by one.  Count your many blessings see what God has done."  I was back on my knees pleading with my Heavenly Father to forgive me my selfishness.

When I hit thirty I had my mental melt down once again.  My poor husband patiently listens.
 At 40 I had another mental melt down but remembering "all that God has done,"
I found myself torn about feeling selfish about this great desire and yet still filled with that longing that just tears me up inside

Shortly after my mental melt down I was watching a BYU Address and Sister Beck, the Relief Society President was talking about a friend she had who had touched her life.
She was at this dear sister's bedside as she was preparing to take he last mortal breath and was visiting with her about her blessed life.
This dear sister nodded her head and added, "Yes the Lord has been good to me, all but those 14 years I was unable to have children.  That was a very dark time for me."
Tears flowed down my face because for the first time in my journey I had felt that some one truly understood my pain and longing.  And it was okay to have my mental meltdowns but not allow them to consume me.
I dropped a thank you note to Sister Beck and she was gracious enough that she wrote me back.
Her words were inspiring to me.  She called me a women of great faith.
Me who stumbles and falls and still at times asks why?  I shall always cherish her kind words.

Well I am now approaching the big 50 and my hormones are going crazy as my body begins to change.
I am finding that once again I am having my mental meltdown and will cry at the drop of a hat and just wanting to stay in bed and pull the covers over my head and just let life slip by without me.
It is a strange feeling for me because of the great things I have seen and been a part of.
I know my Father is mindful of me and I'm not forsaken but I'm just struggling right now.
I keep reminding myself of all the great quotes the brethren have given over the years, "forget yourself and go to work," Christ can turn water into wine but He can do nothing with your whining," "get on your knees and give it all to your Father in Heaven."  "Let go the baggage."
Many thoughts have run through my mind and I know I need to hit my knees and give it all once again to my Father in Heaven but for some reason I am just clinging to this baggage and I am afraid to let it go.
Why, I do not know.

When one of my true blue friends call I start crying as soon as I hear their voice.
We visit and their advice and words of support and encouragement are ones that I already hear and know but alas this is my mountain and I most conquer it on my own.

My husband has no idea how to handle his emotional wife he is used to me being the "Strong one."
And because he does not share my beliefs he is totally clueless what I am battling and why.
Right now I don't feel that strong, I just feel lost and hurt and easily taking offense.

I keep telling myself to pull my self up by my bootstraps and keep moving yet it feels like my straps have snapped and I am bogged down in quicksand and slowly sinking into that dark abyss.
A pioneer story has been running through my mind this dear brother lost his wife and all his children on the plains and yet in his journal he recorded, "still moving."
I have days where it takes all I have to just keep "moving."

I have so many different emotions pulling me so many different directions yet here I sit in my great pool of pity.
When that all to familiar voice whispers that I need to attend my meetings, or hit my knees and pray,
I just brush it aside and sink further into my despair.
President Kimball once said, "when you don't feel like praying that is the time you need to hit your knees and let the heavens hear your prayers."

For now I am just wallowing in my own little pity party because I just don't want to give up this baggage that is hindering me.
I am at the base of my mountain looking up at it and telling myself I can never conquer a mountain so huge and impending.
But deep deep down inside there is a part of me that keeps whispering, "No, you can't conquer this mountain alone but with His help you can conquer anything....all you need to do is ask."

No comments:

Post a Comment