I've been a little lax again with my posting. There's been so much going on lately with me, in real life and on the internet, that it's been incredibly overwhelming. And when I get overwhelmed, I just...quit doing stuff. It's something that I'm working on, but I have a really hard time with it.
On one of the blogs I follow, a soon-to-be second time mama mentioned a dream she'd had about the little girl they're expecting. It made me smile, and I commented, and then thought, what the heck, I know she reads my blog so I may as well post the whole thing rather than just an abbreviated comment.
I think I've mentioned before that Brett and I were trying to conceive for over 2 years before we finally got pregnant. (Well, I was trying, since as Brett likes to point out, he wasn't doing anything differently.) I know there are many women who struggle for far longer than I did. But those 2 years were agonizing. The longer it took the more difficult it was for me, certainly emotionally. As a young married woman in the LDS church, it feels like you're expected to start popping out babies pretty much as soon as you get married. There were so many insensitive comments. The Mothers' Day before we conceived, it was difficult enough for me that we left church early.
I remember feeling SO frustrated. We really felt that God wanted us to start a family, but it just wasn't happening! We were doing everything we were supposed to. At that time, I was meeting my mom at the temple usually every week, and I remember sitting there, just begging God to let it happen, and trying (in vain) to reconcile myself to whatever He might have in mind rather than trying (again, in vain) to "make" Him do what I wanted. I readily admit that I've never been good at the whole "Thy will be done" thing. I want what I want, and I want it when I want it.
So those times in the temple were bittersweet for me, because I would be so frustrated, and while there I would feel so comforted. But as soon as I left, those negative feelings would just creep back in.
About a month or so before we actually got pregnant, I had an incredibly vivid dream. I don't remember my dreams very often, but this one was so detailed and vivid that it just stuck with me. I had a dream about a little baby girl. I could see all of her features, but I especially remember the big, blue eyes and the head of dark hair. I remember the way she felt in my arms. It was the sweetest dream I've ever had, and I woke up crying.
A couple of months later, Brett and I were in the temple together, and I was praying again. All I could think was that I knew it was supposed to happen, and could He maybe just clue me in as to when? Would it be soon, or did I need to be more patient? It was the only time I can remember an answer coming to me as an actual voice. "Soon." I was happy, and I told Brett. We discovered I was pregnant shortly thereafter, and still get a chuckle out of the fact that while I was praying that last time in the temple, I had actually already conceived.
When Amy was born and they gave her to me, I remember looking down at her and thinking, "This is her. I saw her. And she's exactly the way I remember her." I was so happy, I was crying. (And I'm crying now, but that's just what I do, I guess.) It was such a sweet moment, and I'm so grateful that my Heavenly Father knew what a comfort that dream would be to me.