On Motherhood

The reasons that my trip to California was good for me are abundant. I am still trying to decide if I am glad to be back. Perhaps I am unsure because the day after we got back a viral infection of some sort made its appearance into our home, through Marie. Poor Marie. Brandon and I have a habit of making analogies for situations in our life. Our analogy for Marie is that exposing her to any kind of virus is like exposing an alcoholic to one beer. It never stops there. This girl never just has a cold. Oh no. This time she decided it would be cool, or maybe hot would be more correct, to spike a fever of 103.9. That was Saturday night. I braced myself to hold her in my arms the entire night not wanting my sick baby girl to be alone for a moment. Thankfully we were blessed with a tender mercy and only an hour later the fever lowered to 101.5 (with the help of a Priesthood blessing, Tylenol, and Motrin). She's doing better now, if only Motrin could get rid of the whining and crying.

Alright, back to to the topic at hand.

One of the many rejuvenating moments while in California came in the form of a series of late night chats with both my mom and my dad. They were moments when the overwhelming feelings of motherhood that I can suppress over the phone came pouring out in person. I was uplifted as they both reminded me that they had been there and done that. They want, even need, me to share my joys and my struggles.

My dad reminded me that "[Jesus Christ went] forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind, ... he [took] upon the pains and afflictions of his people." That includes me, even if I feel I should be able to handle things on my own or think I shouldn't even feel afflicted in the first place. My fault is not in feeling afflicted, it is in keeping those pains hidden and not allowing my burden to be lifted.

My mom put her arm around me and shared her own struggles. She related times when she felt overwhelmed and turned to her Heavenly Father. She reassured me that He will answer my prayers. She knows because He has answered hers over and over again.


I love my parents, adore them, and depend on them. Two and a half weeks without Brandon are only bearable if I spend them with my mom and dad.