Inside my head...

It's not a pretty place. It's not a place I really think most people should be. Because I wonder how many people really know the war that rages there almost every single day.

Am I good enough? Have I done anything good today? Will my child hate me forever? :) Why am I so exhausted? Are my  kids 'getting it'? Are they firmly planted in the knowledge of God so that their choices reflect it? Is Nate happy?

Unless your name is Holly Ann, or mom...you've maybe seen glimpses, but you don't know how fierce this struggle has become. How I feel that every single role I fill, be it mom, wife, accountant, friend, sister, maid, cook or whatever...I come up short. I know Satan uses this as one of his greatest tools against me, because by reminding me of my inadequacies I lose focus on what I'm trying to do.

But tonight I offer a brief glimpse inside my head. And, if you've read much of this blog...you know I''m pretty open when I decide to be.

We are about 3 weeks away from getting on a plane to go pick up our new son, Mack, from the orphanage he knows as home. He is six, and down syndrome. And we are thrilled. But, I'm also terrified. I know that this is going to be difficult. In fact, I've played the worst-case scenarios over in my head to myself so many times that I'm going crazy. I just want the whole trip thing to be done. Skipped. Just mail him to me, so I can get on with transitioning and settling in.

My emotions are high. .

Again, I am reminded tonight of the confirmation I have been given multiple times in this process. My anxiety will take off on a jog and before long it's in full-sprint mode. I was trying to prepare for my part of tomorrow's ward conference assignment at church, and I stumbled onto a 'Mormon Message' by Elaine Dalton. She talks of running in the Boston Marathon, and how half way through she was tired, and panicked...she started crying and people from the sidelines cheered her on. And she prayed for strength...just I've done so many times....and the answer to her prayer filled my heart with gratitude for a Savior who knows ME. Because her answer was mine. Again. The words to my favorite hymn, beautifully scrawled in caligraphy on my dining room wall..."How Firm a Foundation" came to her mind. The words are:

"I'll strengthen thee, comfort, and cause thee to stand, upheld by my righteous Omnipotent hand."
And then she relates how she knew she could finish...and all would be well!

We are going to love this boy. We are going to know such happiness. And struggle. And triumph. And laughter and tears. Just like with our other children. How grateful I am to know good and bad in all aspects of my life.

Tomorrow....

As I sit here tonight I can honestly say I've been dreading tomorrow...December 28th, I hate you.

Two years ago tomorrow Nate and I were blindsided when Russian leaders banned the completion of our adoption. It began one of the most difficult, defining trials of my life. I have never encountered a trial of such heartache of a personal nature. This was it: my refining fire.
I would love to say I've responded gracefully. But I haven't. I still question the 'why' of this nightmare. I still cry. I still pray for her every day. I think of her. I wish I'd have been faster with the process. One night, I sat upright when she called for me in my dreams, "mamma". I wish...

It hasn't been MY grace that I've noticed at all.


Not my grace at all.

Last week my visiting teachers(in the LDS faith, you are 'assigned' women to visit and tend to your needs monthly) came. The message was on gratitude for the mission of the Savior. One of my visiting teachers happens to be one of the close friends I have made here. She said something about taking the blessing of a Savior for granted sometimes. And while I'm sure that I don't perfectly APPLY the gift of the Savior...not a day goes by that I am not thankful for it. Because I'm a lousy swimmer. And there are alot of times I feel like I am treading water. There is only one constant in this life...and it is Him.

So, tonight, I'm feeling a bit discouraged, and heavy hearted. Because I think this is an anniversary that will haunt me. And I cannot imagine what good will come of the ban on my sweet Dasha...MY sweet girl. But, good things are coming. In the next short bit...we'll bring home a boy. One meant for our family. And I won't lie, when my kids fight or the schedule is crazy my heart races and the voice of doubt sings in my ears. But nights like tonight I am sure of one thing: I'm coming. I'm bringing you home. I'm SEALING you to me for this life, and ETERNITY. You will not wait in this place forever little man. 

I love you Daria. And I hate tomorrow.

Nothing but time...

It seems as though the last few weeks have been full of nothing. I've spent them hooked up to my ice machine, with the cold frosting everything below my waist...with the heat pad shoved up my shirt. I am bored with HGTV, and even though I detest cooking, I have taken to watching the cooking channel. I am disappointing that way, I suppose.It's something I do horribly with no intention to change. To me cooking will always mean someone is unhappy with what's on the table that night. Its a "perk" of having so many kids...there's nothing to please them all. And I can't make myself spend hours in the kitchen for a process that inevitably invokes tears from some...and is over in minutes. Not when we can spend the same amount of minutes there...tears and all...over a casserole.
Lately my little munsters have been blessed to eat the makings of people in my ward again. As I was laid up, my friends from church brought in the first week of meals for us to eat. Amazingly, while we get meals that are things I've never attempted...and some that are regulars at our table...NOT ONE KID complained. Except for when I declined additional meals to be brought in. Then they complained :)
No worries...I picked up the slack.
I really do not like certain things about myself. You hear a lot of people describe others and say 'they are always so cheerful' or 'they never complain' or 'they did it with grace'....and I think: I am a failure. One of the people I admire and love most in the world today stopped me at church and asked how I was...I gave my honest response...a big sigh, followed with an "I'm ok." He pushed me a little, and then asked, "was this surgery worth it?"
Let me just tell you that we continued that conversation, and that I left feeling uplifted. Because this exact question has run through my mind a hundred times these last two weeks. And he couldn't have known that...so he certainly didn't know how very much the things he said to me mattered. But they did. I spent a bit of time the other night on my knees, talking things through with Heavenly Father. I would have loved an instant answer to things...but I continue to be amazed at how he answers me. He sent a friend...who spoke the exact words that I had offered to Heavenly Father...then offered a few laughs, genuine concern...and the reassurance that I'm loved.
I don't do things gracefully. I complain. I cry. I do things I shouldn't.  I always end up seeing God's hand in things...realizing blessings I'd not had before...but not without a little melt down first. Why do I do that? Why can't I really handle what is given me...when it's given...without having the ugly moments? I am not a pity-party thrower. I am not a pessimist. But I typically say it how it is..if its hard, I say it. I don't think this doesn't mean I am ungrateful, or that I am not looking toward God.
I like to read others' stories of struggles and victories. It renews my faith. I can see heartache, and recognize joy. And I can empathize. And I think all of these things are gifts from my Father, opportunities to grow closer to him.
I am incredibly grateful for the season we are entering...there is nothing better than an added focus on the Savior's life. Who doesn't benefit from more mention of him? More recognition that he lived, died and resurrected?
I am grateful that this focus is just what I need right now...to right myself...line myself back up...and be happy with what comes my way. Because the majority of what comes is good. It is joy. It is tender mercy. It is happiness. There's just a blurp of struggle here and there...just enough to remind me how good I've got it, and what's important.
So bring it. Bring on the Christmas Spirit...I am way more than ready for more of it!

I'm a crier....okay?

I am a very emotionally driven person. I am probably equal parts stubborn and cry baby...

So this weekend was HARD for me.

I found out two weeks ago that I was being asked to fulfill a different assignment within the 'local' branches of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. For the last several years, in fact, MOST of my adult, married life...I have worked in the Primary organization. This is the program that teaches the babies from 18 months to children age 12. For the last 3 and a half years I've worked as the Primary President...so we have worked to staff and oversee the kids on Sunday during our worship time, as well as the Cub Scout program and Achievement Day program, both specific to girls and boys age 8-12 on Wednesday nights. It was the best job in the world. I worked with some of the best people...I developed friendships...strengthened attachments... and absolutely fell in love with these little people. Kids are the best. They are sponges, eager to be reminded of the great truth their spirit already knows: They are children of a loving God. He has a plan. He wants them to come home to Him again.  They say the funniest things. They accept. And I was the one who benefited from this chance to serve.

So, needless to say when I found out I was passing this job on to someone else...I was super sad! I will miss the kids so much. The new President is darling. Love her tender spirit...her funny whit. I'm forgotten already.... :)

Yesterday the kids were told that my counselors and I were asked to move on...and so the song leader had them singing some of my favorites as a goodbye...and I was a mess! Of course they belted those songs out with all the gusto they had...and I was touched by the Spirit, reminding me of God's love for these little people. But it wasn't just sadness. There was also some feelings over being overwhelmed by what awaits. My feet are big...but not this big.  As I sat there yesterday, listening to the children testify of God in song....I was also very aware of the nudgings in my heart that God loved me...knew me...and was ready for me to stretch again.

So...here it goes. I'm going to be working with the Stake(the organization that oversees the smaller divisions of our church in separate towns: Our stake covers half of Great Falls, Cut Bank, Shelby, Browning, Choteau, Conrad, Fairfield, and Sun River. I've been asked to be the 2nd counsellor in the Young Women's Organization, which is SORT of a continuation of primary...just the girls, age 12-18.
This is MORE than a stretch for me. Because teenagers are a whole new game. They aren't quite as 'sponge-like'...they have a few more life experiences, some attitude :) and are really searching to figure out just who they are. And this was NOT a favorite phase in my own life. I went to my first stake dance the other night and we giggled at the painful dancing...and it sort of transported me back to those feelings during high school. So here goes. Its my goal to make sure girls figure it out before I did. I want them to be confident, and Christ seeking. I want them to be ready for the temple, and excited for their futures. 
And I want to prove God's trust in me...

Change is not my friend. Its uncomfortable and emotional. But I am grateful for the chance to grow.

Seasons of life....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nczw6xHJ0I
I'm hoping you watched the video from Elder Holland. Its my all time favorite. I love this great man.

When I first stumbled onto this Mormon message over a year ago, I was pretty much a wreck. Our little venture with a Russian princess has shaped my life in ways that I would have never imagined. I absolutely invested my heart into that adoption, totally falling in love with her and planning the rest of this life being her mom.
Even typing this I am emotional...its something I don't understand...something my heart will never recover from.
This message from Elder Holland was my go-to....for MONTHS. You keep walking. Don't you give up. Good things to Come.
Sunday afternoon my family was sitting down watching some of the Mormon messages, which are SUCH a good family activity by the way...if you're needing something to do....I scrolled through the various titles and saw this message. So...obviously I felt pulled to watch it.
And the tears just flowed down my face. But for a reason so entirely different than when I needed that message last year. I was impressed with an absolute gratitude for the seasons of this life. Hard times. Good times. Joy. Sorrow. I thought about how different my position is today than it was a year or two ago. And I absolutely acknowledge God's hand in this.
I do not understand my need for that experience, but as we get closer to bringing home our sweet little man I fight my heart not to commit too wholly yet...to hold back...to guard myself against possibilities of hurt. But how can I do this?  I am so eternally grateful that I seem to be on the backside of this particular life experience. Good things are coming.

Food "speaks" to me...

I met Nathan in January 1997. My first impression was that he was kind of a jerk. He was the 'new' guy in the apartment complex where some of my good friends lived, and when I was visiting them after returning from Christmas vacation, in breezed Nate. Honestly, I don't remember much else about him from that first encounter other than I wasn't that impressed. He didn't seem interested in meeting ME either. 

It was a few days until we saw each other again. In fact, I wasn't paying a lot of attention at all. I'd already proclaimed, very loud and clear, that "I would not be one of those girls who married the first boy she dated", something I loathed about the reputation of the church college I was attending. 

The next week I needed groceries(I told you....) so I hitched a ride with Eric...MY friend, and Nate's roommate. On the car ride home Eric worked to convince me to go on a date with Nathan. I agreed to go that Saturday...

Saturday was a little over committed :) My roommates and I were heading to a nearby town to visit one of my roomie's family. It wasn't my fault that we were FOUR hours late for my date...when I finally showed up I did feel a little bad, but that only lasted a few minutes. They'd rented a movie to watch...Schindler's List. Really? for a date? 

I stayed about 10 minutes. 

I realize now that I am incredibly blessed that he followed me. We sat under the stairs of my apartment complex, propped up on the bike racks...and talked for hours. HOURS. And from that night we were pretty much inseparable. 

I tried to dig through the garage this morning to find his journal so I could PROVE this story...but, alas...no luck. Take my word for it.

Nathan was obsessive about his studies. Me, not so much. He studied non-stop. As finals were approaching that semester, which was probably only 6 weeks after we started dating(and we'd already talked marriage) he was seriously blowing me off. To 'study'. Bleh. One night I went to the little cheapie Chinese restaurant there in town that catered to the masses of poor college kids and picked up two 'Number 4' meals. I thought perhaps he'd pay some attention to me if I brought food, and it worked! He gave me about a half an hour of attention before I could tell he was getting anxious to get back to his test preparation. Before we threw the garbage out, we decided to open our fortune cookies...I have no clue what mine said. It must have been entirely ordinary. Nate's however, was PERFECT. 

Stop searching for happiness. It is in front of you. 

Last month I was cruising through my list of errands in Great Falls, kids in tow. We argued over which nasty fast food place would be better...and I made the executive decision: Taco Bell. After we'd finished up, and I was cleaning our table off, I grabbed one of the packets of hot sauce the kids had played with. There was some bold, scroll writing on it that grabbed my attention. 

You have chosen wisely. 

My mind instantly went back to that fortune cookie. And while the conclusion you might reach from this random tale of coincidence is that perhaps I should stop eating out so much(you're right...I should)...I smiled. Grateful for the 17 years that have been mine.

Today marks the day I chose to marry Nate. I thought I was 'giving myself' to him. My perspective has shifted so much that it doesn't even resemble my 19 year old self. Today marks that day that I struck it rich. Rich in ways that aren't countable to the outside eye...rich in ways that I am forever thankful for. 

Nathan Pitcher is the most unromantic person you'll ever meet. He doesn't EVER plan for things to win me over. He pretty much stinks at buying presents. He hates to snuggle and can't take my feet touching him in bed. And, unless I'm watching some sappy love movie, I'm coming to terms with that :) Because other than these flaws....he'almost perfect. He is good. Honest. Constant. Dedicated. Hard working. Faithful. God loving. 

Mine.

So happy this man has given 17 years to me. Today I think that I will let my food remind me of one of God's greatest blessings in my life:  Stop searching for happiness. It is in front of you. You have chosen wisely.

Grateful he was mine to chose. 

Its time...

I don't know if my husband will agree with me, but I think its time. The only reason I think its okay to do this without his permission is that it was my heart we were protecting from the start.

Just over two years ago we began something that has indescribably, indefinitely changed us. And for the sake of this particular 'blog'...I am just going to speak first person, though I'm sure my sweet husband's emotions mirror so many of my own.
My heart is weary and tired of hanging onto the hurt of this trial. Part of this heartache I don't get the luxury of letting go of: its not mine to undo. But hopefully, this entry into my 'journal' will allow me the freedom to get rid of the ugliness that I've allowed to linger...to fester, and color my outlook on life.
So many times I've stood to bear my testimony in church and I can only control my emotions so long...and I ramble...and I never really get to say what's in my heart. So, here goes:
When I say the past two years have been hard, its largely an understatement. Believe me when I say that I am not a baby...I do not focus on only the negative. I have fought  to see with grateful eyes...and thankfully, and mercifully, I DO! I am blessed. I am loved. And, I love...so many things, so many people.
But, like I've said a thousand times...I don't understand. But this statement is probably something you don't understand...because I don't use it to encourage sympathy. I don't use it to explain my heartache...solely. I really don't understand. But, I am so thankful for the tender mercies that have given me glimpses...
When Nate and I began the process of adopting our Dasha from Russia over 2 years ago...I was terrified. Mostly, about the money. How in the world would we do it? Well, everyone I'd met in our place was fundraising. It was uncomfortable, but I could lose my pride and do it...right?
Oh, and my favorite, "don't you realize you have five kids already?"
I don't understand it. We entered a journey that terrified us. And suddenly, voices who'd had NO authority to plan our family size with the addition of previous children suddenly felt powerful and entitled. And I was devastated. Betrayed. But, determined to bring home this little girl. My mother begged me to tell the story. That 'they'd understand'...I've come to know they never will. And, I've got to forgive them their ignorance. Because hopefully by recording this, I can finally move on...forgive. Be forgiven.
Nate and I fasted and prayed. We went to the temple. I cannot tell you how many times we prayed about this. And...how the absolute confirmation that we were to pursue adoption of this child was undeniable. How else could we keep going? Every decision...minus those trivial ones like, black sweats or blue sweats?....we try to base on prayer. And faith. And we aren't perfect. But we're trying to do what's right...
But I don't understand...I never will. How did we stumble on a child that LOOKED like she was ours? And why is the pride and evilness of one man able to keep her from the blessings of an eternal family the happiness of normal everyday life in a home? That is something I will never reconcile in my heart. But with faith, I know through examples in the scriptures, that sometimes the choices of others cause suffering for those around them. This is my Dasha's fate.
I love this little chicka. I pray for her every night...that she'll remember our hugs and kisses. Remember being held. And wanted.
And I put my faith in God that he'll cover the rest.

But for the months after the ban on our adoption, I was done. No more. Never again....right? Wrong. Because truth was, Nate and I now craved the love and change that would come by expanding our family through adoption. And, we also knew something else...one silver lining in the sadness of our failed adoption. We knew this child would be down syndrome. And while I pleaded with God for understanding as to why we had been led to Dasha, on how we could be led down this path to only have to face such sadness...I didn't think I'd ever make sense of it.
I haven't, completely. But there is a tiny sliver of knowledge that has become such a comfort to me. One night I was crying to my bestie and she pointed out that perhaps the reason we were led to Dasha...was that another child needed us and that without falling in love with a child who fit so seamlessly...who looked like mine, and stole my heart so quickly...we'd have never considered adopting a special needs child. And she is right. So, so right.
So, we started over. We prayed. We knew. We acted.
I've let my hurt feelings and broken heart steal the joy that comes from this announcement. But...its time.
And I'm praying that sharing this openly allows my heart to heal in some way. Because we are WICKED excited...

You can find out a little about him on Reece's Rainbow...we did. But you don't get to bring him home...cause WE ARE. We better have him home in a few months! We had to start at square one...and I think we've dealt with every stupid person available in the process. But we've also had lots of help, and some of my adoption friends have a place in my heart that no one else will ever have. They've walked in my shoes! We are trudging along...he's worth it :)