Once upon a time...

A few months ago I expressed concern that my other children wouldn't know Ethne.  Mr. E was so young when the accident happened that he doesn't remember anything and Baby J and new little miss will never know their oldest sister, in this life.  I need them all to know of her, to know who she is and recognize her in pictures.  It makes me feel more like my family is whole.

When my mom saw that post and learned of my concern she called me up with an excellent idea.  As most people know, I have two younger brothers that are adopted.  When G (the older of the two) was still pretty young he started asking questions about where he came from so my mom wrote him a story about how he came to be part of our family.  She suggested that I do the same, write a story about Ethne that we could read with our kids.

So I set to work.  I started looking at printing companies that I knew would allow me to put together my own picture book.  And I got stumped.  Most of the companies had a minimum page number that I knew I wouldn't be able to meet and/or required too many pictures per page.  So I turned to social media and my friends gave some great suggestions.  I tried a few of their ideas and landed at the Walmart photo center, where I was able to choose a template, and then edit it as I pleased, it only required one picture per page, and the minimum page count was do-able.

So I got to work.  I chose pictures that I thought were good representations of Ethne, her spunk, her love, her beauty, and even her not so fun side.  I wanted to be honest about her and her life and not make her seem too perfect, because she wasn't always.  The story came pretty easily.



"Once upon a time a beautiful little girl was born..."  She loved her mom, and dad, and her brother.  She was silly, threw tantrums, and loved everyone she could.  Then there was an accident and she went to heaven.  Because we are an eternal family we will get to see her again, and she can help us when we need her.  I also included the scripture John 13:15.

We gave it to Mr. E for Christmas.  He loves it.  He pretty much has it memorized and likes to take it to church and read it at bed time.  I cry every time I read it.  Baby J reads it with us too and has started to recognize Ethne, it makes my heart happy.

Do you remember?

Mr. E, do you remember Ethne?  Do you remember how she used to ask to hold you?  Do you remember playing peek-a-boo and tickles with her, and the way you would smile and giggle at her?  Do you remember how she would help you with your binki when you'd cry, or how she'd play "this little pig" with you?  Do you remember splashing in the tub with her or snuggling in her bed while daddy read you both stories?  Do you remember her coming to see you in the hospital, the way she let us lay you on her lap while she ate pretzels?  Do you remember?

I do, but you probably don't.

Ethne's Headstone

Ethne's headstone was placed at her grave about a week before Memorial Day 2012.  Since then we have posted many pictures of it, but have never really talked about it or the images we chose to have engraved on it.

We have seen a lot of different headstones with a lot of different styles, stones, engravings, and images.  We wanted it to be special and to memorialize our Princess, but also classic.  We decided on grey granite because it's easy to keep clean and less likely to crack or break.  We also didn't want something high profile so we went with a flat stone with a slight angle to it.  We wanted anyone who saw it to be able to get a glimpse into the personality of Ethne.  Obviously we had her name, birth date, and death date engraved on the head stone.  We wanted there to be a vase or other receptacle for us to put flowers or other decorations in, so there is a hole for that at the top of her headstone.  We chose to have an elephant for obvious reasons-- Ethne and her "ephant" were inseparable-- but also because elephants never forget, and we will never forget.  The minion was also twofold in that it comes from one of her favorite movies and that it represents her personality so very well, she was so loving and willing to help, but also playful and mischievous.  There's a tiara, because she is and always will be our princess.  Last but not least is the inscription "Daughter of a King."  This inscription also has two meanings for us.  The first is superficial and plays into Lawrence's nickname for her-- Princess.  The second is more meaningful and comes from a beautifully written and illustrated children's book by the same title.

To summarize the story:  There is a farmer's daughter whose clothes are old and patched, she plays with the other town children and some of the richer children tease her, but she doesn't let this get to her because her parents have taught her that she is a daughter of the King and that he loves her, no matter what.  As she grows she has other experiences that teach her about being a daughter of the King and of how she can go to the castle to live with him some day.  She eventually marries a young man who has also been taught that he is a son of the King and they work together to be able to live in the King's castle one day.  They have children of their own and raise them in the knowledge that they are also children of the King.  Finally they grow old and take their journey to the castle.  The journey is hard, but they have each other for help and support.  Along the way they meet others on their way to the castle and they help these others along their journeys.  Eventually they make it to the castle and the King greets them, by name, with open arms and welcomes them home.

It is such a beautiful and profound story that teaches of each person's worth and of our mission here on earth in such a way that even children can understand.  It was one of Ethne's favorite bedtime stories and made even Lawrence tear up when he read it to her.  In so many ways this story and inscription remind us of our Princess.  She was so kind and loving to everyone and she knew that she was a princess.  It also reminds us that, not only will our father, the King, welcome us with open arms when our journey is through, but also that Ethne will be there, a crooked grin on her face, and her arms wide open and ready to give us great big hugs.

We hope that all those who see her headstone get at least a small clue of who she was is.

(Ir)rational

As we grow and learn in this world we often develop likes and dislikes.  Often these likes and dislikes stem from strong emotions regarding the subject.  For example:  from the time I was about 3 years old I wanted to play the flute.  That's a pretty young age to want something so specific, but I associated the flute with my (then) favorite Aunt, Debbie, and I wanted to be just like her.  Now I play the flute, studied it in college, and teach it to other aspiring musicians-- I still associate it with my Aunt.  Along with these likes and dislikes we often develop fears.  These fears are also usually tied to strong emotions.


About 4 or 5months after the accident I was home alone with Mr. E.  He was napping and I was engaged in some household chore or another.  We were living in an apartment that was part of a large complex.  Suddenly the quiet afternoon was interrupted by the rapid thump-thump-thump sound that only the spinning blades of a helicopter make.  I couldn't help it, I started hyperventilating and crying, the sound was so close.  I looked out my bedroom window and saw the helicopter coming closer and it was obvious it was landing near my apartment.  Then I noticed the life flight emblem.  My breathing and crying became more frantic.  Despite my belief that you should never wake a sleeping baby, I ran to Mr. E's room and pulled him from his crib.  I remember repeatedly saying "they can't take my baby, he's mine, you can't take him."   After several minutes of crying, and shouting at the helicopter that couldn't hear me, and rocking my now upset baby, the logical part of my brain took over and I called Lawrence (I think he was at work) three times in a row-- our signal that something is wrong.  He called me back talked a little sense into me and told me to call my parents.  I finally called my mom and she came and picked us up.  I'm pretty sure I was still hysterical when she got there, even though the helicopter was already gone.  Shortly after arriving at my parents' house I was able to calm down and the whole incident seemed a bit irrational to me.  I was so terrified that the helicopter was going to take my baby away and I wouldn't see him alive again.  But really, how irrational was it?

Even though I don't clearly remember the events immediately following the accident, and I certainly don't remember the helicopter taking Ethne away, that is what happened.  I remember my little girl, alive and trying to open a container of yogurt in the back seat, then I remember snippets of my own helicopter ride, then waking up in the hospital knowing that she was gone.  The helicopter took her and I never saw her alive again.  I still have problems with helicopters.  It doesn't matter if they are life flight or not, I have a small panic attack whenever I hear a helicopter close by.  It used to be worse, but since we moved we hear them flying over our house more often than we used to, so the panic has decreased some.  The logical part of my brain still realizes that panicking every time I hear a helicopter isn't exactly rational, but I can't help it.

Another fear that triggers a bad reaction is cement trucks.  Again, I don't remember the truck hitting the car, but they still frighten me and especially when I am driving.  This can be a problem since I live in Utah and there is always road construction and therefore a fair amount of cement trucks on the road.  I have learned to deal when they are far away, but I really panic if there is one right by me (in front, behind, or on either side).  I have learned to pull over when possible to avoid being too close to a cement truck, but when it's not possible I have to talk myself through and will often drive slowly to allow myself some space from the cement truck.  The latter solution may anger some other drivers, but it's far safer than me having a full on panic attack while driving.

Unfortunately this accident left me permanently scarred, both physically, mentally, and emotionally.  But I am learning to live with all my scars.

Physically Speaking

I still see people who ask how I am doing, physically, after everything and with the pregnancy.  So I will give a quick report.

Sept. 2012, Brigham City Temple

I was given the all clear from my orthopedist (bone dr.) last March and proceeded with two months of physical therapy to help bring my left leg back up to par.  I worked with a great team of physical therapists and before too long I was off the cane and (mostly) keeping up with my running toddler.  Just as I was finishing that up I was given the all clear from my neurology team for the soft neck brace and some physical therapy, so we moved on to that.  I wore the soft brace pretty much all day for about two weeks, then gradually wore it less and less until I wasn't wearing it at all.  I spent another two months doing physical therapy for that with the same team that helped with my pelvis/hip.


I still get some stiffness in my neck, especially if I don't sleep on a good pillow and my neck won't pop the way it used to.  I can pretty much keep up with my little man, but I never was a runner and don't plan on ever being one.  Occasionally the baby will sit somewhere or kick something that makes my hip/pelvis hurt and even before I was pregnant if I stood just the wrong way for too long my left leg would kind of go dead and collapse, but that doesn't happen too often.  There is still a numb spot on the inside of my left knee that sustained some nerve damage.  I could have it looked at, but there really isn't anything they can do about it so there's no point.  It really isn't a bother, just a little weird sometimes.  I still have the pseudo aneurism in my carotid artery and I have to go in for a CAT scan about once a year or so.  I went in before I got pregnant and the dr. gave me the all clear and said to go back for another when I finish nursing.  They said it appears to be healing but I am still on a low dose of aspirin just to be safe.

After the accident I had problems with my scalp.  It got really flaky and I developed huge sores all over, we think it was some kind of psoriasis.  I tried egg yolk masks, coconut oil masks, lavender essential oil, tee tree oil, jojoba oil, tea tree shampoo, and combinations of these and nothing seemed to work.  I am happy to announce that a few months ago my scalp started to clear up and is now sore free!

As far as pregnancy goes, I am having a lot of the normal pregnancy pains and issues.  I was nauseas for the first few months, but never really sick and around week 11 that went away and I have been feeling better since.  Like I said before, sometimes baby kicks or sits in a bad place and makes my left pelvis/hip hurt.  I have been feeling some ligament pain as things stretch and move around.  With it being summer I have been swelling some and I recently picked up a dummy ring to wear in place of my wedding ring on days when the swelling gets too bad.  My belly is starting to look like a baby belly rather than me just gaining some weight and that makes me happy.

All-in-all it is a true blessing and a bit of a miracle that I have healed as well as I have and I really have little residual issues.  I credit that to hard work and to Priesthood blessings.

My Confession

The first thing I remember after the accident is waking up with a tube down my throat and looking for Lawrence.  I hurt everywhere, but I distinctly remember feeling the pull of the staples and bandages running vertically from my sternum to my pubic bone.  Fear flashed through me as I thought of a friend who went in for a surgery and came out unable to have children.  I asked, with some signs, if I could still have babies, which Lawrence misunderstood.  I soon was back asleep.  Some time later my mom was there and Lawrence told her about my question, she understood and told me that, provided everything healed properly, I should be able to have more children.  I was relieved, a tiny ray of sunshine on my otherwise darkest day.

Seemingly endless doctor appointments followed, at which I inquired about pregnancy and childbirth in my future.  Doctors all gave me thumbs up, in time.

But I wasn't so sure I could do it emotionally.  This is my confession.  Shortly after the accident Lawrence and I attended a grief group for parents who had lost children.  Some of the parents were older and their children were also older, but there were a few others who had lost younger children.  I have also made some connections with other angel mommies, and learned about their reactions regarding more children, following their loss.  I was surprised to hear that many wanted to have more children right away, even some that had previously thought they were done.  I just couldn't wrap my head (and my heart) around it.  I was so afraid of losing another child.  I knew that I would not be able to cope with the emotions of such a great loss again.  I felt that even a miscarriage would push me over the edge.  And I didn't want to do that to Lawrence or to Edward, it wasn't fair.

I kept this my little secret for a time.  But I knew I would have to discuss it with Lawrence at some point.  So I eventually did.  I cried as I poured my heart out to him about this and about other things.  And he held me and listened, and maybe cried a little too.  We talked about how guilty this made me feel, about what it would do to me if we lost another child, and about other concerns, and we kind of left it at that.

Not too long later I spotted a note in Lawrence's iPod noting that this issue wasn't really over, I knew it wasn't.  So we talked again.  And slowly, I started to come around.  I began to realize that the Lord knows what I can handle, and that another loss would put me over the edge.  I started to realize that I was being selfish, only thinking of myself and not about Lawrence, Edward, or any other children that might be waiting to join our family.  I changed my mind.

Now you may wonder why I'm baring my deep, dark secret to the world.  Why I am confessing.  In part, I am sharing this so others who may face this same struggle know that they are not alone.  When I met all these other angel mommies that just wanted another child as soon as possible I felt so alone in my fears, like maybe there was something wrong with me.  I don't want someone else to feel that way.  Also, I am sharing because...

Edward is going to be a big brother!  Dec. 31, 2013.  See, I did come around.

I Wish I Had a Time Machine

I remember shortly after the accident hearing a radio ad that said something about a time machine.  I remember thinking that if I had one I knew exactly what I would do with it.  I am sure you can guess that I would go back to that day and prevent the events that forever changed my life.  I'm pretty sure I wished for one even before hearing the ad...  For the first while all I wanted was to change the events of that day, anything to avoid that fateful accident.  Anything to get my Princess back.

I prayed, pretty much non-stop for days that it wouldn't be true.  I didn't want to believe what everyone
was telling me, and what at least part of me knew to be true.  I didn't see Ethne until almost two weeks had passed and we went to dress her.  Until then I thought that maybe if I prayed hard enough it wouldn't be true and I would get her back.

I tried bargaining with God.  "Take me instead," "I will do [this] differently," I will start doing [this]," "I will be a better mom," "I will break [this] bad habit..."  But none of it changed things.  In fact some of it made me angrier.

Why do we do this?  I know at other times in my life I have found myself trying to bargain for a certain outcome to different events.  Promising one thing or another if things will only go the way I want them to.  Why, when most of us know this bargaining won't do us any good do we still try?  Is it just something we need to cope with events in our lives?  Is it hard-wired into us?  Or is it something, or someone, else convincing us that these things can make a difference, even when we ultimately have no control over them?  Maybe a combination?

Some believe bargaining is an expression of hope that the bad news (whatever it may be) is reversible.  Even when the logical side of our brain knows that we can't fix or change things our heart tries to give us hope that there is some chance, no matter how remote, that it can be changed.

When someone is in this stage of the grieving process the worst thing you can do is offer them false hopes.  When they are begging for the situation to change and you know it cannot don't offer them the things that can't or will never change.  Instead offer support or other change for things that can be controlled.  Sometimes you have to point to the inevitable, even when it seems like the worst thing you can do, but facing the truth is far better than being given promises that will never be fulfilled.

I remember being so angry every time someone would point out that I couldn't change anything.  I remember wanting to lash out and physically hurt the people who love me most because they were pointing out the inevitable.  So I stopped talking about my time machine, I stopped telling them the things I wanted to change to reverse these events.  And eventually I stopped these things all together.  I don't think I had really reached acceptance of the events, but I had come to some acceptance of the fact that I couldn't change things.  And then I started to focus more on the things I could change.  I put more effort into my physical therapy, I worked more at helping others, I tried to be a better mom and wife...  So maybe in some ways my bargaining worked.

(Bargaining is the third stage of the Kubler-Ross grief cycle.)