A battle of emotions

Weeks and weeks have passed and there is so much that has gone undocumented in the last few months -

time spent with a friend since birth (the photo below is from our childhood),

our birthday weekend getaway,

our second pioneer trek,

and a family reunion.

Just to name a few. The problem is that I've felt too exhausted lately to even make any attempt to write much - not that writing itself is exhausting, but confronting complex emotion is. And, now that we've entered July, the dreaded month, I fear only to be even more overwhelmed by this battle of emotions.

And, a battle it is.

There are the painful feelings of dreams snatched away, the jealous feelings of watching the other women at church as they playfully tend their cooing babies (and then the incredible guilt that follows the jealousy), the fears that (for some reason unknown to me now) I may not have the blessing of motherhood in this life, and mostly the incredible aching to have my little girls here still. I wanted them so bad. I waited so long for them, I was so sure they would make it.

The battle then comes from remembering that they did make it. They made it here and then they made it quickly back Home. Their brief appearance is enough of a reassurance that they are ours and will be ours forever. While there is still a battle that rages in my heart, I'm learning to be at home with such contrasting feelings, recognizing that great sorrow is evidence of great love. We have been blessed with an ever-present feeling of love and comfort that has seemed to come straight from heaven. We find peace in the sacred experiences we've had that we couldn't have known through any other way.

It was a year ago this week that we first found out that our girls had Twin to Twin Transfusion Syndrome. I can still feel the panic in the days that followed their initial diagnosis. In the midst of that panic I received priesthood blessings full of promises, things that I didn't understand fully at the time, things that have since brought me great comfort.

It's that comfort that has helped us get from one July to the next. Our fourth of July last year was pretty dismal, making this year not quite as bad. As the sun set and the evening breeze floated down off the hills, Marc and I decided to hop on our bikes and ride to the cemetery. While we were there we quietly discussed some ideas we've had for how to appropriately remember Elliana and Emmaline on their birth day. We want to do what feels right for us, and that is hard to figure out when there are feelings that still feel so fragile and experiences that we hold so sacred. But, I think we made some headway while cruising the empty streets back home. 

It was when we were just a couple of blocks from home that we passed a beautiful, old church made of brick. As I was admiring its construction, I noticed their "Welcome" sign that changes weekly. This week it said, "Celebrate the gift of the Holy Ghost." While I don't frequent this particular church, I appreciated the reminder and recognized in my heart the reason to celebrate such a gift. It is this gift that has been our constant companion through the ups and downs of the last year.

As we face the battle of emotions that will no doubt continue to surface in the coming weeks, I know I can trust in our past experiences in facing hard hurdles that we won't be alone. We haven't ever been abandoned and I know we won't be now. Among the angels that will comfort us, we now have two with a vested interest in helping us get to the other side.

For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

- Psalms 91:11