Mary

I wanted to record my feelings before I forget. I was hoping to post this before Christmas, but I didn’t quite have it finished.

(Preslee, December 2008)

Preslee was born on December 17th, three weeks before her due date. I had just completed a semester at BYU-Idaho just three days before, and hadn’t bought everything we needed. When Preslee came home, we hadn’t received our rocking chair yet, so each night I nursed in our front room by the glow of the Christmas tree. I remember staring at the tree, our nativity set, and the newborn baby in my arms, and for the first time in my life truly contemplating Christ’s birth and what Mary experienced. I felt I understood Mary a little better, as I thought about the insecurities new moms share, and how hers must have been heightened as she held the Savior in her arms. As I looked down at Preslee, I realized I now had a deeper connection to a story I had heard my entire life, all due to having a Christmas baby in our home.

(Cannon, Cruiz 5 months old)

Now, five years later, and with three boys sharing one room, I’m back to feeding on the couch by the glow of the Christmas tree. Oh, how the emotions and memories come flooding back as I stare at our tree, nativity set, and at one of two babies (usually Cruiz). My thoughts returned to Mary and her oldest son, and about everything I wrote about up above, and how miraculous it must have been to watch Jesus grow, and what it must have been like to be taught such doctrine and truth by your own child.

 What a gift.

(Click {here} to learn more about this Nativity painting. My friend’s baby was the model, and what the painter writes is amazing.) 

Then suddenly the tears begin to flow as I think about how five years ago, I didn’t know I would sit helplessly holding my oldest child as she took her last breath; just like Mary had no idea what events would take place 33 years later after giving birth to her oldest child. She didn’t know she would helplessly sit and watch her child die for all of mankind on a cross. And once again, I felt like I understood Mary a little better. I am in no way comparing Preslee to Christ, but my heart has grown for Mary once again, and aches for her all at the same time, knowing what it feels like to lose a child. I can’t help but feel so eternally grateful for the woman who raised Jesus Christ, our Savior, and Redeemer. How scared she must have been at times, how spectacular of a person she must be. She raised an incredible individual, who has constantly been at my side over the past three years when life became unbearable. I recognize Pat and I are where we are today because of Him.

With Pat saying he would be more than fine being done having kids, I realize I may never feed in front of the Christmas tree after it's packed away – so I’ll embrace each sleepless night I have left. And as I stare at the angel ornaments we were given after Preslee passed away, I’m reminded of our angel in heaven. I’m eternally in debt to our Savior for making it possible for us to be reunited someday. 

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas season, and remembered the real reason we celebrate every year – Our Savior.