Happy Easter

On this day I am humbled.  Gratitude is too simplea word to express what I feel.  It is my most earnest belief that the reason why there is hope in all things is in truth because of Christ's Atonement and resurrection.

At one time this seemed like a somewhat simplistic, unrealistic idea.  There is hope in all things because of Christ?  How?  Wasn't it God who cursed me with my mental illness in the first place?  How could I ever glean anything good or hopeful from my plight?

Then something happened that more than ever shook the foundation of my world.  I found out I was pregnant for the fourth time.  No one knew more keenly how very dangerous my situation was.  Postpartum depression exponentially increases with each pregnancy.  My last turn on that Ferris wheel had left me in the hospital.  For years I had struggled to regain my mental footing.  I had experienced unspeakable anguish.  Countless times the psychosis nearly overcame me.

Just as every professional knew, I knew one more full term pregnancy could easily rob me of my sanity forever.  It was a fate worse than death.  I'd seen the mental hospital sponsored by the state.  It was a cold, pale green place, ill kept with all things old and in ill repair.  It was a place filled with confusion and endless pain.  How could I risk such a horrible fate?

Abortion.  Abortion.  Abortion was thrown at me time and time again.  As far as every doctor, psychologist or friend was concerned, I had no other option.

With all my heart I wanted this baby.  I knew there was a child within me.  Was my life more important than hers?  Could I live with myself knowing I killed an innocent infant in order to save myself?

Abortion the doctors said.  Abortion is your only option.

No.  I couldn't do it.  My situation was hopeless.  Unable to live with myself if I had an abortion, I had to face that fate which was worse than death - permanent psychosis, incarceration in a state mental hospital for the rest of my life.

How could there be 'hope in all things' under such circumstances?  All I knew was that God would not give me a trial greater than I could withstand.  Even if in the end I died, as long as I was valliant to the best of my ability, mentally ill or otherwise, I would be resurrected and united with my family again, free from the shackles of any disease.

Why?  Because my Savior died for me, for all of us.  Because of Him in that seemingly no win situation, there was still ultimate hope.

In earnest diligence, I did all I could to prepare for the worst, holding fast to the hope that I just might make it through the nightmare ahead.  My children needed a mother.  If there was any way for me to miraculously survive, I was determined to find it.

Nine months passed.  As soon as we knew it was safe for the child, I was enduced.  No delivery had been easier for me.  When they placed that infant in my arms, my joy was full.  I knew no matter what the consequence, she was worth it.

That same day my father called.  My mother who had been cancer free for well over a decade, was going in for emergency surgery.  A tumor the size of a grapefruit was in her abdomen.

We had been relying heavily on my mother's help.  Someone had to be with me 24 hours, seven days a week for at least the first three months.  Me being alone was simply too dangerous.  Like a miracle the women of my church came to the rescue.  They knew nothing of my problem or the risks involved.  Outwardly I appeared to be fine.  It was such a difficult thing for outsiders to understand.  They came anyway.  For three whole months, between them and my husband, I was never alone.

It was hard.  The psychotic episodes came.  Sometimes I lost track of things.  I was walking a very fine line.  My troubles, as expected, lasted for years.  But, because of God's tender mercies, because of the unconditional love which was extended to me by all of those sisters, I survived.  Although they paid a price of their own, my children always had a mother.

In the mean time my own mother was braving her own battle.  We had been lucky the first time for her to have survived as she had.  Somehow I knew that this time the disease would eventually take her.  I suppose I could have prayed for her to pull through.  That is what I wanted.  I did not want to see my mother die.  But as the disease became worse, my mother only became better.  Her earnest love for everyone around her grew.  She showed valiance in everything she did right to the very last.

When the time came, our family was all together in the room with her.  I offered a prayer asking for God to take her, and free her from the pain.  Moments later, she passed away.  Sorrowful as I was, I knew that death was not her end, only a new beginning.  I knew I would see her again and that the separation is only temporary.  Why?  Because of Christ.  Because of the Atonement.  There was hope, even in her death.

So today, above all days, I need to express my gratitude.  Without the hope of Christ I could have easily aborted my sweet daughter.  I could have despaired and not even tried.  I would not know without a doubt that I will see my mother again.  There are so many more examples.  I am thankful for my beliefs and the knowledge that there is hope in all things.