How Can I Help

I have recently been blessed to come across a network of mother's who also have angel babies. It has been truly touching to learn more about each one. I am amazed at the beautiful impact that each little angel has had on so many lives. Like my sweet Branson, each one has left their mark on this life, and their print on so many souls. Thank you to each one of their mother's for sharing their stories, feelings, pictures, and perspectives with me. I am blessed to rub shoulders with such an inspiring crowd!

On the side bar of one blog I read this week, I found this list...a list of things that people can do to show support, love, and concern for people who are bereaved. I've asked Michelle if I could use some of the ideas on her list, combine them with some of my own thoughts, and share them with others.

As I have reflected often on life before Branson, I am humbled by the things I didn't understand about loss. I had no idea how incredibly life changing it is for a family when they loose someone they love. A loss is a loss regardless of the persons age, well being, or status in this life. I was often the person that said or did nothing because I wasn't sure what to do or say. I had never experienced grief in a personal way, so to speak to someone traveling through the journey of grief was like speaking a foreign language. I have offered many prayers since then that I might be forgiven for the pain I know I must have caused others in their moments of grief because I failed to act in love on their behalf.

I guess that is one of the things I've gained through this journey...perspective...perspective on grief, loss, and love. I, like Michelle, pray that this list of suggestions might help others who have loved ones traveling this difficult road.

Unfortunately, grief doesn't come with a user's guide, or an instruction manual. So this is just a few things from the view I see when I look at my path through this journey and the perspective it provides. I am sure there are many more things that could be added to the list, and some that others may feel shouldn't be on there...take away what you think can help you and the person you love that is bereaved.

When Someone you Love is Bereaved

(Sorry, some of the fonts have gone a little crazy)

1. First and foremost TALK about the loved one who's passed. Even if it's uncomfortable at first, it will become easier. My favorite thing to do is to tell others about Branson, and I love it when people ask...what he looked like, what my favorite moment we shared with him was, or my favorite feature about him. Not so much the heartache that surrounds his death, but the joy that abounds in his life!

2. Most bereaved people will not offer information on how they are doing unless they truly feel like you want to know. This one is especially true for me. Some people ask not wanting to know the truth and when you give it to them, they don't know what to do with it.

3. Don't ever put a time line on someones grief. It is different for everyone, and loosing someone isn't something you "get over".

4. Love notes. Emails. Thinking of You cards. Thinking of the bereaved person cards. We appreciated every single card that we received after loosing Branson. I have kept each one. I pull them out often and read the messages of love sent to us in our time of sorrow. I especially appreciate the ones sent months later from people who wanted to let us know that they were still thinking of us and our little guy.

5. If you don't know what to say, just say, "I'm So sorry you have to go through this." One of the hardest things for me continues to be those who act as if nothing ever happened. Not that I want people to wallow around in my grief, but people who have never said one word about Branson, not even "sorry", make me feel like they believe that Branson wasn't real, that he isn't part of our family, and that our loss was simple, insignificant, and something that we just need to "get over". I know that they are probably the ones who just don't know what to say, but it's hard to accept.

6. If the person needs to analyze the circumstances surrounding the death, let them just talk and rehash anything as many times as they need to. I have found that verbalizing my thoughts, even if there is no response from the person listening, helps me process through it better and come to a conclusion or answer on my own. I appreciate those who just listen without judgement.

7. Don't assume they are ever "better." They never become completely whole and the loss will be a part of them for the rest of their lives. I have decided that the piece of my heart that left that day with Branson will always be gone...I just have to figure out how to live a new "normal" without it.

8. Don't underestimate how frazzled, absent minded, and spacey grief can make someone.

9. Accept the fact that you can not "fix" this for them. What you can do is love them.

10. Saying things like, "They are in a better place" can be confusing. While it may be true that Heaven is a beautiful place, it makes the bereaved feel like the place they had with them wasn't good enough.

11. Do not, I stress Do not get offended if your loved one doesn't answer his/her phone or return your calls. Don't assume that they don't appreciate your effort. It's just that someone bereaved doesn't want to put on a "happy voice" when they are having a hard day, but they don't want to burden everyone with their grief either.

12. If you didn't know the person who has passed at all or very well, ask to hear about them and learn of them through the stories of those who loved them. Most people never got to hold or see my little guy...only 10 in fact...yet he was here, he was so real, and he marks our life forever. There may be people who pass on in the lives of our loved ones and friends that we never knew...that doesn't make them less important or unreal.

13. Validate.Validate.Validate. Please whatever you do, don't compare your loved ones loss to someone else's "harder loss". Every loss is hard. Comparing makes the person feel like they shouldn't struggle because it could be worse.

14. The comment "but aren't you grateful you know you'll see them again" isn't a fix it all. It is true, but it doesn't take the pain out of not having them now. Just because the bereaved may continue to cry and have hard days doesn't mean they don't have a testimony of the plan of salvation, or that they have given up hope...it means that they are normal and they miss their loved one more than words can express.

15. Most of all, make sure they know you love them. Be a shoulder to cry on.

Remember that this may be the first time the bereaved has gone through something like this. Be patient, loving, and nonjudgmental of their emotions, thoughts and feelings.

I pray that I too can be a little more sensitive, a little more aware of those around who are bereaved. Thank you to all our family, friends, and loved ones who have been so supportive, patient, loving, and sensitive to our loss.

A link to Michelle's Blog
http://krainichfamily.blogspot.com/

Understanding

"And He shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions of every kind...and he will take upon him their sicknesses...their infirmities...that he may know according the the flesh how to succor his people..." Alma 7:11-12 (page 225 of the Book of Mormon)

I have always been taught by my parents, leaders, and scriptures such as this that Christ's atonement is powerful enough to not only pay the price for sin, but mighty enough to heal every pain and sickness we experience...emotional, physical, mental, or spiritual. Yet, in the days, weeks, and months after Branson's death I found myself asking, "If I have to feel this heartache and pain so intensely, why too did Christ have to feel it?" I just couldn't bare the thought of both of us going through such darkness, loneliness, and pain.

I wanted the atonement to "fix" things immediately, to take it all away...and it wasn't. So, as I've done with so many other principles lately, I began to read, to search, and to find out for myself the answer to my questions. In so doing, my relationship and perception of the Savior has changed…and my life has changed because of it. Until six months ago I felt that I knew the Savior and appreciated his sacrifice on my behalf…little did I know that my knowledge of him, and my love for him was incomplete and lacking in so many ways.

I certainly haven’t been perfect in life, and I've tried my best to use the atonement to make up where I've fallen short. However as I felt the most intense heartache and pain of my life, I wondered if it was really true that Jesus took some of this pain for me as he suffered in Gethsemane and eventually died for me on the cross. If he had suffered this already “for” me, then why did I too have to feel the heart-wrenching grief that seemed to be consuming my life?

One night this question was weighing particularly heavy upon my mind. As Rob and I laid in bed, I posed this exact question to him…his reply is what has changed me the most. He said, “Nat, think about it. It’s all about perspective. There are so many people in our ward, our neighborhoods, our families that don’t have a proper perspective on our trial. They’ve never experienced anything like this before. Therefore, try hard as they may to “fix” this for us, they just don’t know what to do or say that will completely heal us. Even people who have gone through a similar trial can’t perfectly help us carry this pain, or heal our hearts. Although they understand in a very real way some of what lies ahead in our journey, even their grief and healing process is different from ours. Grieving is so personal and unique. However, there is one person that has a PERFECT perspective on this trial because he has walked every mile of OUR situation, and that is the Savior.”

I began to mull that over in my head that night, the next day, and every day since and these are the things I’ve come to appreciate about the atonement.

Christ knows perfectly how to heal us because he felt every piece of this cross that we would be asked to carry. He knows what I will personally need that even Rob might not because the atonement is that personal…that real.

He knows how to answer my prayers in my moments of grief because he has a perfect perspective on what I need and how that need can be met. There have been very specific ways in which I have seen this happen in the past few months. He has sent the right people when I’ve needed them, I have opened the right book to answer a question I’m pondering, I have been touched by the spirit to act on promptings he’s sent. Because of these and many more, through the atonement, he has begun to heal me.

The atonement provided him a perfect perspective on every emotion, thought, and feeling that I have because he’s felt them too. He doesn’t judge me because I have moments full of anger, he doesn’t think less of me because I question things I shouldn’t question, and he doesn’t make me feel guilty for being me. He’s continually patient and lovingly waits for me to “see” what he’s put before me to partake of.

Because of the knowledge that God has, and the love that he feels for me, he won't take this trial away from me...even though he could. Instead, he sent his son thousands of years before me to experience my personal pain so that I might have a friend, a Savior who could truly understand it, help me through it, and then through mercy make up where I fall short.

Elder Dallin H. Oaks helped me understand more when he said:
"Healing blessings come in many ways, each is suited to our individual needs. Sometimes a "healing" cures our illness or lifts our burden. But sometimes we are "healed" by being given strength, understanding, or patience to bear the burdens placed upon us."

And it hit me... Christ didn’t suffer in Gethsemane to take away my pain…he suffered so he’d understand my pain and understand how to heal me in a very real, personal way.

I'm sure in future years I'll look back and be able to see just how much Christ has truly carried me and so much my burdens as I've walked this journey. I hope too that someday I may be able to fully comprehend and appreciate all that the atonement has done for me. I am grateful that Christ doesn't walk in front of me impatiently waiting for me to "catch up", that he doesn't walk behind me watching me step into the darkness ahead alone, but that he walks beside me...teaching me, leading me by the hand, and lighting my way.

I have never been more grateful for Christ’s sacrifice of life on the cross so that he could be resurrected. I now see that it is through this that I will be able to be reunited with Branson and spend eternity with him as a family. I am thankful for the blessings and power of the temple covenants that make this possible for me, and I am eternally grateful that Christ has made it certain, through his atonement, that Branson will be there waiting if I can but make it back.

A Most Cherised Moment

I have spent a lot of time lately thinking back to the day we spent with Branson. Although that time was short, it was filled with some of the moments I cherish most in life so far. In those few short hours that slipped away too fast, I was able to see and feel so many amazing things. I lack the words to adequately describe to others the emotions of that day, and atmosphere of our hospital room.

Although there were moments of great sorrow and heartache, served with an endless supply of tears, there was also a constant feeling of peace. A peace like nothing I've ever felt before or since...a gift that saw us through the hardest day of our lives. It was very apparent to Rob and I that Branson's spirit was there with us, enveloping us with his pure love. It almost felt as though we were treading upon sacred ground. We both said we'd never seen nor felt anything so sweet and completely pure.

I've often wanted to go back to that day and package that peace in a beautiful box...a box that could be opened on days I need to be reminded that with the peace we felt that day came an assurance that this was Branson's plan, that he was happy, safe, and excited to serve his mission on the other side. A peace that let me know I was blessed to be a part of his beautiful plan, and privileged to be mother to such a valiant son!

I didn't get to capture that peace, but I do carry with me traces of that peace and the memories of all the special moments of that day. Tonight I'd like to write about one of these moments so that I might come back and read it during moments of this journey when these memories aren't so fresh, or I feel the peace slipping farther away.

One of my most cherished moments of that day is one that occurred shortly after Branson was born. The doctors couldn't put me completely under during my C-Section, but they did give me something to help me sleep during the surgery. The doctor assured me that it would not affect my alertness afterwards, as I wanted to be fully alert to enjoy the few hours I would spend with my son.

As I lay there on the surgical table, being stitched up, I drifted to consciousness for the first time and saw one of the most beautiful, sacred things I think my eyes will ever behold. As my eyelids opened, I began to search for something familiar, and I soon met Rob's gaze. There, sitting next to me was my husband...eye's lit up, a broad smile, and a proud demeanor. In his arms was cradled our son. Rob was naturally rocking side to side, holding Branson with arms full of love...arms that had waited for this moment for a very long time. As I looked upon my little boy for the first time, I couldn't help but be amazed at how perfect and beautiful his little face was. It almost appeared as though Rob held a little piece of Heaven in his arms. It just looked right. Yet, it wasn't just my son that was so perfect, it was the fact that my husband was now a daddy...a daddy that was full of pride and love for his new little boy...and that was perfect. No words were exchanged...just smiles and tears. Rob's eyes spoke to me saying " Isn't he amazing?" No words could have said it better.

I quietly slipped back to unconsciousness while they finished stitching me up, with tears of joy on my face and peace in my heart.

That moment will forever be imprinted on my memory and it's affect will forever mark my heart. This is just one of the moments that made it bearable to say "hello" at the same time that we said "goodbye".
I love you Branson!

Building My Ship

I feel as though I'm having a "build your ship" moment in life.

I have always enjoyed reading the story about Nephi and his family as they sojourn in the wilderness, following the guidance the Lord provides them as they seek to reach the promised land he has prepared for them. However, until my recent study of one specific part of their story I had failed to make a real correlation to it's importance in my life.

In 1 Nephi Chapter 17 (page 36 in the Book of Mormon), Nephi and his family arrive at the land "Bountiful" and they rejoiced because after much suffering, affliction and trial of their faith they had finally arrived at this fruitful, abundant place. I can imagine that as they pitched their tents in this place that they may have been saying to themselves hey, this feels good to have some comfort and beauty, and to be free of heartache and affliction for a time. I'm guessing that they desired to remain in this land for a time and enjoy the beauty and abundance it provided.

Looking back over the past year, that is essentially how I felt. I looked at the infertility problems of the past as being over, and that my pregnancy with Branson was my "land Bountiful". I thought that surely I had passed through enough affliction because of our trial of infertility that the Lord would let me rest for a while and enjoy this land bountiful of bearing children and being a mother. A land that was free of the heartache that being "baron" had brought me for so many years. However, as with the Nephi's family, this would not be the case.

After being in this land of Bountiful for only the space of many DAYS, Nephi was called upon by the Lord to construct a ship that would carry his people across the ferocious waters of the ocean that separated them from the promised land...I sit here now in awe that Nephi didn't just crumble in disappointment, or shrink in fear. Not only did they not get to rest for a season, but he was to build a ship...and not just any ship...a ship big enough and strong enough to carry his family. He'd never built a ship before...he didn't know where to begin...what tools to use, where to find the materials, or how to construct the frame. Now instead of resting in a "trial less land" he was faced with a daunting task.

On June 30th the Lord asked me to "build a ship". Although not literal as in Nephi's case, my ship is just as vital to my survival. It needs to be big, and strong enough to see my through stormy seas. Like Nephi, I didn't know where to start, or where to find the materials to build this ship...the ship of faith, patience, endurance, and trust. I hadn't built a ship like this before, and I didn't know the first thing about putting it together well enough to get me through. My days in the land bountiful had come to a quick end, and the Lord was asking me to prepare to cross these waters.

What happens next in the story would be, what I see as a defining moment for Nephi. He returned to tell his family of the task ahead and was greeted not with support, but with murmuring and complaints. His family wasn't ready to give up this land so quickly, and they had no desire to labor in this arduous task. So it was left to Nephi...would he follow the command of the Lord to build this ship and leave this fruitful land, or succumb to the natural man as his brothers had and be angry with God for putting yet another boulder in their path to this promised land?

I too have felt as though I've been at crossroads such as this. I can see very clearly at times that I have two options in front of me, and the choice is mine...one, to build a ship that will require a lot of hard work, tears, faith, trust, and patience...or to stay where I am and let myself complain, murmur, and feel sorry for myself that the Lord has even asked me to do something so hard.

I know there have been many times when I have been like Nephi's brothers, full of complaint, anger, and a lack of understanding...and perhaps at times that seems like an easier road, but tonight I pray that I can be as Nephi was...strong and firm with unwavering faith. So I take Nephi's council personally as he told his brothers:
"...murmur no more...for God has commanded me that I should build a ship. If God commanded me to do all things I could do them."

Nephi never doubted in his ability to perform this task he said,"...if the Lord has such great power, and has wrought so many miracles among the children of men, how is it that he cannot instruct me, that I should build a ship?"

With the help of the Lord Nephi did build his ship not after the manner of men, but after the manner which the Lord had shown unto him. This ship saw him and his family through to the promised land...a ship that was thought of as impossible and foolish by some...a ship that brought them to the promised land the Lord had prepared for them.


I am beginning to see that all of us, at one time or another, will have these "build your ship" moments in life...without them we wouldn't have the means of travel to make it back someday. I know that I too, with the help of the Lord, can build this ship. It's definitely a work in progress, but the Lord does show me "from time to time" the manner in which it can be done. I'll follow the example of Nephi and "pray oft to the Lord" and he will show unto me the great things that can be reached on this ship I'm building. A ship built after the Lord's blueprints, and not the blueprints the mortal inside me would have designed. I'm thankful for the tools the Lord provides at the moments I need them, not at the moments I want them...and I'm thankful he's able to know the difference.


Someday I'll set sail on my finished ship to the promises that await...a promise of a forever family that includes my sweet Branson. Until then I'll just keep building.

Seeing All We'll Miss

Well, Christmas has come and gone, and our trip to Utah is more than halfway over. For the most part I've done pretty good with keeping my emotions in check, but still letting myself feel the longing for my son on what have been his first Christmas. Don't get me wrong, I've had my faucet moments (the tears just come...sometimes harder than others, and sometimes I feel like a water faucet that is turned on and off). It's crazy, how at times, moments I imagine would be very difficult aren't as hard as I thought they might be, and moments I thought I would be just fine...I loose it...last night I had one of those moments!

My dad has been working really hard on getting all of our family film strips and videos put into DVD format so that we, as a family, can enjoy watching them more often. We've known about it for a while because one of our good friends has been doing a lot of the work on them. One day last month my dad called Rob after previewing one of the early filmstrip DVD's that had pictures and silent video of me and my two older brothers when we were just small. He was so excited for us to come home and see these darling moments of us being so cute and Innocent. After the phone call, we too were excited to watch the DVD's and see me as a little girl. This is one of those moments we imagined thoroughly enjoying, and not for one second did I imagine it being hard or difficult.

So, last night after opening gifts with my family we put in the first DVD and started watching. Right at the beginning was video of my mom when she was pregnant with my oldest brother. Initially I thought...oh, how cute! I hadn't see many pictures of my mom while pregnant with any of us. However, it didn't take too long for me to see the similarities between my mom and me when I was pregnant with Branson...and suddenly I could feel some very strong emotions beginning to build. Then, the next segment of the video was at the hospital shortly after my brother was born...the doctor holding him up proudly for my mom to behold her son for the very first time...he was screaming, filling his lungs with air, being weighed and measured, swaddled in a new receiving blanket, and passed to my mother's arms...things I never got see and experience with Branson. And...I lost it!

Tears started to freely flow down my cheeks and I began to feel sobs building inside my chest. However, not wanting to distract the rest of my family, I tried really hard to keep those sobs inside. I hate the feeling when I do that. It feels like there is a giant boulder sitting on my heart...the weight of that boulder is heavy and almost unbearable. It's like trying to keep a boulder that's hanging on the edge from rolling down a steep hill, and with one person pushing against the weight of that boulder, it can't be stopped for long.

I'm guessing my parents noticed the tears, and felt like they should change the video...so they put in the second DVD, and I thought, oh good...now the boulder will go away. Boy was I wrong. This video was filled with images of my brothers in the bathtub together, darling birthday cakes made by my mom, birthday parties, proud parents showing off their sons, Christmas's, crawling, cute outfits, baby waves, first days of school, and camping trips...and the boulder felt heavier than ever!

Until now I had mostly missed the baby things about Branson....stroller rides, bath time, breast feeding, cooing, swaddling, rocking, sleepless nights, and changing diapers just to name a few. I had pictured him only in the baby clothes that adorned his closet, and I had only "seen" him sleeping in the cradle and crib we had set up for him in his nursery. However, like a giant suname wave, I began to "see" all the things we'll miss in years to come.

My "loss" was being multiplied right in front of my eyes. We'll never get to see Branson in that way, or doing all those "little boy" things...no bath time with younger siblings, no birthday parties, no first day of school, no helping daddy in the yard, no playing cowboys and Indians, no crawling...none of it. I couldn't help but notice how much my older brothers looked like their sons, and my boulder began to roll...I wanted everyone to say...I can't believe how much Branson looks like you Nat. But, most of my family has only seen pictures...and that's all they'll ever see.

I had to get up and leave the room...I had to let the boulder fall. I couldn't support it's weight anymore. I hadn't even noticed that Rob too had left the room, but as I walked into my bedroom, I saw him lying on the bed with a tear stained face. I said, Are you okay? And that's all it took for both of us to loose it once again.

We just held each other and cried...letting the sobs flow freely. Somehow, in my husbands arms I felt strong although moments before I had felt weak. We talked about why it was so hard to watch that, and how it just isn't fair that we have to miss out on all of those moments with Branson. We commented on the fact that the only video we have is special to us, but not fun to watch...it's finding out Branson's heartbeat had stopped, it's filming the tears as I got ready to go to the hospital, it's a lifeless body being held in his mother's arms, it's daddy giving the only bath Branson would ever take...it's hard to watch, and even harder to think that it's the only video we'll ever have of him.

We got up and drove to the cemetery where our little boy's body is laid. We just sat there in silence letting some of the scare tissue build where the boulder had ripped our hearts apart. Once again we had to learn how to "deal with it", for what else could we do? I told Rob, Even when we have other children, I think part of my heart will still ache for Branson. I imagine that even experiencing these moments with our other children will be bitter/sweet.
I felt last night, more than I've felt before, that a permanent piece of my heart will always belong to him...and a chunk of my soul will be gone until that day the miracle will replace it.

So today as I sit here and type, the one thing that gets me through is knowing that someday we'll sit on a couch in Heaven with our eternal family, and there together we'll watch a most incredible video. We'll watch the video of our Earthly experience and we'll see how Branson has truly been a part of all of these moral moments in a Heavenly way. We'll see his influence wind through our lives, and we'll say to ourselves, we wouldn't have made it without his help. Then, we'll put in the second video and we'll see what Branson's been doing up there. We'll see all the people he's touched, and the lives he's changed. We'll see the knowledge he's gained, and the difference he's made. We'll see the missionary he's been and the valiant son of God he's remained. We'll see him come down to check on us, and help us over hurdles we'd face.

One day, together, we'll see our lives come full circle with his...one day we'll see we haven't missed anything, because we'll have it all. Until that day, we'll keep missing you Branson...but we'll look foward to the best movie night we'll ever have!

Christmas With Jesus

I’M SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH JESUS CHRIST THIS YEAR

I see the countless Christmas trees
Around the world below.
With tiny lights, like heaven’s stars
Reflecting on the snow.

The sight is so spectacular,
please wipe away that tear,
for I’m spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs
That people hold so dear.
But the sounds of music can’t compare
With the Christmas choir up here.

For I have no words to tell you
The joy their voices bring.
For it is beyond description
to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me,
I see the pain inside your heart.
For I’m spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year.

I can’t tell you of the splendor
Or the peace here in this place
Can you just imagine Christmas,
With our Savior, face to face?

I’ll ask Him to light your spirit
As I tell Him of your love.
So then pray for one another
As you lift your eyes above.

So please let your hearts be joyful
And let your Spirit sing,
For I’m spending Christmas in heaven
And I’m walking with the King!

--Author Unknown--

Merry Christmas little guy...we miss you more than words can say, but we take comfort in knowing that you'll be having a spectacular Christmas with Jesus this year! We know that you'll be consumed with love, joy, and peace as you celebrate this special birth in Heaven. I pray that we'll feel you close as we too celebrate the birth of a king! We love you!

Thank you Heather for this beautiful poem that has brought me so much peace at this time of year.

In Everything I Do

My dear Branson, as I go throughout the days, I can't help but be amazed that everything I do, everything I see, everyone I talk to...in everything...I think of you, feel you, and see you. From small, seemingly insignificant things to the big, monumental things of everyday life...every where I turn, there you are!

I can't help but see you in our home. The cradle in our bedroom, the swing in the family room, our new, beautiful family pictures, your bath robe hanging behind the bathroom door. 

I can't help but feel of your pure, sweet spirit as I walk past your nursery and stop to take a peek. Or as I enter there to read or just sit in the rocker to sooth my aching heart.

I see you in the beautiful flowers daddy planted for you this spring. The flowers that were meant to make our home perfect for you to come home to.

In the stretch marks that beautifully mark your life upon me forever.

I think of you every time I see an infant. Every time I hear a baby giggle, cry, or coo...a giggle, cry, and coo I never heard from you.

I wonder what your up to every time I find myself bored. I think to myself, "I bet Branson's not bored...what would he have me do?"

I see you in your daddy's eyes, and your grandpa's hair. 

I can't help but yearn for you as my heart pulls when I see other new moms cuddling their little ones. 

I miss you at breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I can't help but compare every other baby to you, and think that they're just not quite as perfect handsome, or cute as you. 

I feel you in the missing piece of my soul and the expansion of my heart. 

I can't help but miss you as I feel Christmas creeping closer. As I see a stocking hung, and presents wrapped. As I hear Santa's "ho, ho, ho" and as daddy reads our favorite Christmas stories to only me. As I anticipate my first Christmas without you, and every other "first" this year. 

I see you in our Christmas village, and your special nativity from Dustin and Kim.

I feel you as daddy and I cuddle each morning and wonder what our next hug with you will be like. 

I see your light in the lives you've touched, and feel you in the hearts you've softened. 

I can't help but see you as I look at your cute little cousins and see you in them.

I miss you every time I wake up and realize I had another full nights sleep...another night without a crying baby.

I feel you as I let my tears fall and my heart swell with loneliness and pain.

I miss you tremendously every time I walk into the garage and see your stroller standing there covered with a plastic bag, a bag to protect it from gathering dust.

I see you in the missionaries that serve in our ward, and I wonder who you've taught today.

I am grateful for you as I learn new things, and gain a new perspective on life. 

I think of you with every breath I take because I never got to see your lungs filled with air.

I think of you, see you, miss you, long for you...in everything I do!

You have changed my heart, my eyes, and my life forever. I will truly never be the same. I love you!

Mary, the Mother of Jesus

A dear friend sent me this beautiful picture that was in the back of the Ensign this month, with a touching letter. Since I received it, I have been thinking a lot about Mary and her beautiful baby boy. I love how closely Mary is holding baby Jesus in her arms. And I love the emotions that are portrayed on her face, "concern and peace...concern for what lies ahead for her child, yet peace in knowing that this Child's Father in Heaven is over all" as my friend put it.
For as long as I can remember I have stood in awe of Mary...her worthiness, beauty, care, obedience, tenderness, love, selflessness, and purity. She was blessed to have the privilege of carrying and giving birth to her little boy, and the Savior of man kind. She had the opportunity to love him, to teach him, and to be his Earthly mother. She was able to see her baby grow into manhood and watch him choose a beautiful path and live a perfect life. I imagine she was filled with pride as her son paved the way and made it possible for all of God's children to make it back to Heaven to dwell eternally with him.
However, this year Mary means much more to me than a beautiful mother that brought the Savior into the world. She is now an extraordinary example of a valiant daughter of God who not only did these beautiful things, but a valiant daughter that did some very hard things.
I'm not sure, but I can imagine that growing up Mary might have pictured the path of her life taking a different course than it did. I can't imagine the heartache Mary felt as she was looked down upon by society for carrying this heaven sent son of God while being espoused to Joseph. While Mary had the joy of feeling her sweet baby grow and come to life inside her womb, she was faced with ridicule and judgement by those that surrounded her. Although the timing may have been difficult, she willingly accepted the call to be the mother of Jesus.
As the baby grew and the date of Jesus' arrival grew near, I imagine that just like me, Mary was filled with great anticipation and excitement at the thought of meeting her first born son, and bringing the greatest gift the Earth has ever known into the world. As she planned and prepared, I am not sure that the thought ever crossed her mind that she would bring her baby into the world in such humble circumstance. I've been wondering what Mary thought as she learned there was no room for them in the inn...was she disappointed, worried, or concerned? Regardless of how she felt, she went forward in faith. She followed her loving husband to the stable where she would soon give birth and lie her newborn son in a manger of hay. She took the most modest of circumstances and made the best of what she had. I wish I could go back to that night and see the light...the love that surrounded them.
I can't even comprehend the pain Mary must have felt as she watched a ruthless crowd shout at her son, mock him, beat him, place a crown of thorns on his head, and nail him to a cross. I don't understand the anguish that must have consumed Mary as she learned that her son was to be crucified, and that he would be leaving her so soon. I am sure there was a wrenching of her heart that was intense and real. And although I think Mary knew this part of his life had a special purpose, and that her son would be okay....I don't think it took away any of that pain. I'm sure that she too did a lot of crying, and I think she must have missed her son every day she was here without him.
Mary had to "let her son go". I am thankful for her valiant example. I am thankful that she accepted hard things that she may not have wanted or pictured for herself, and followed the plan God had for her. The beautiful, joyous moments Mary shared with her son, combined with the painful, heart-wrenching trials she faced turned out to be the most beautiful Christmas gift we celebrate. The birth of her son, his perfect example and teachings, his sacrifice in Gethsemane, his Crucifixion on the cross, and his resurrection from the tomb...all the things that make it possible for me to return to live with my Branson forever!
I pray I can be more like Mary. I hope that like her, I too can accept every part of the plan God has for me, even the parts I had pictured differently. I'm grateful beyond description for my first born son. I am filled with pride because of the path he choose, and I pray I might be the kind of mother to him that Mary was to Jesus.

Is This Really Happening?

Tonight I can't sleep. As I laid in bed, tears streaming down my face, my body seemed so numb. Numb to the idea that this is all really happening...to me! Sometimes as I replay the events of the past 5 months over and over in my head, I have a hard time believing that they really happened. The shocking news that our son's heart had stopped beating, a birth, a death, a funeral, unbearable heartbreak, shattered dreams, unfulfilled visions, an empty nursery, a constant aching soul...all of this is mine.
I try so hard to keep the numbness from consuming me. It makes me feel forgotten, robbed, and left behind. It clouds my vision and takes hold of my heart.
I never wanted to accept that even though I've always tried my hardest to do what's right, that life would still be incredibly hard sometimes. I always knew there would be stumbling blocks and rolling hills to cross, but I never imagined the steep cliffs I would fall down and have to climb back up. I never heard a talk in church that explained that my family might look different from every one else, come in different timing than most, or come only to be taken away. I never had a young women lesson that impressed upon me the need to prepare for future heartaches, or a Sunday school lesson that helped me feel that infertility is real and that it doesn't mean somethings wrong with me.
I did hear a lot about preparing to be a homemaker and the importance of trying to be a stay at home mom. I heard over and over again about my divine destiny and nature as a women to be a mother. I always perceived that this role, this gift would be mine...mine to acquire with ease.
So, it's been my "mind game" over the past few months to sort all of this out in my head...and I guess I'm still working it out. I realize that the lessons probably did teach me those things, I just didn't "hear" them. I just wish, that someone would have sat me down and said "Ya know Natalie, even though you may do all in your power to do what's asked of you, life will be very hard! Even though you want to be a mom more than anything in the world, you might not get that when or how you have dreamed." But then again, maybe I'm glad they didn't...I don't know.
My heart and my mind wrestle between what I feel and what I know. It truly is a double edged sword right now. One edge is so sharp and painful. On this edge I question and doubt, fear and tremble, weep and feel paralyzed. This edge is Mortal agony and disbelief.
In contrast, the other edge is full of new insights and light. The things it's taught are beautiful. It's patient and full of perspective. It's eternal joy and unwavering love.
I guess tonight I'm praying that one day the mortal edge of the sword won't be so sharp. Tonight I am trying to grasp that this is happening and that although it was never part of the plan I had pictured for myself, it is part of His plan for me. I am loving that I am a mother...a mother to an angel. And although it's not what I've always pictured, it's more than I've ever deserved.

We'd Love to Have You Join Us!

Dear Family and Friends,
Happy Holidays! We hope all of you had a wonderful Thanksgiving and that you’re enjoying the Christmas season as it comes into full swing. Especially at this time of year we think of you often and count you as some of our greatest blessings.
As Rob and I have thought about what we could do this year to celebrate and honor our sweet Branson, we have decided to start a new family tradition…and we would love to have you join us!
Since we can’t give Branson any “Earthly” gifts, we’ve decided to do something that we hope will help us stay focused on the real reason for this beautiful season and honor our little guy at the same time.
We purchased a stocking and had it personalized with Branson’s name. We have decided that for the remainder of the Christmas season we are going to make an extra effort to perform small acts of service. As we do so, we are going to record these small acts on strips of Holiday paper and put them in his stocking. On Christmas Eve we are going to wrap all of these strips in a box and put it under the tree as our gift to Branson…a gift of pure love shown to those in need.
Our goal is to fill his stocking to the brim with the love that is given and the peace and true joy that is received by doing service for others. We would love to have your family participate, and help us with our goal. So…if you’d like to, simply perform an act of service in honor of Branson’s memory. It can be anything…big or small…taking a plate of cookies to your neighbor, helping an elderly person our with their groceries, donating a toy to a charity organization, giving someone a hug, or a stranger a smile…the possibilities are endless! After you’ve done your act of kindness, we would love to have you email us, leaving your name, the service given, and where your family is currently living. We will print these out and add it to his stocking. My email address is: ncnataliecall@gmail.com
Our hope is that with your help we can spread pure love across the nation in remembrance of our Savior and sweet little boy, Branson. We pray that as you do this you will in turn be blessed with all the things your hearts desire.
We love you and cherish the relationships we have with you. Merry Christmas!

All Our Love,
Rob . Natalie . Branson