Coping with the Heartache of Miscarriage

My daughter Arianne had a miscarriage this week. She was in so much physical and emotional pain when I arrived at her home and I could do so little to help.  I longed to find the right words to comfort her but words are little consolation at a time like this.

She is my baby  . . . and she is losing her baby.

"I'm so sorry."

My daughter is a brave, wise woman full of courage and strength. She was willing to put her hand into the hand of God and offer all of herself to bring new life into the world.

"How many times did this happen to you?" she asked through her tears.
"Three times," I answered.
"Thank you for being here with me," Arianne whispered. "I wish I could have been there for you."

I placed a cool cloth on her forehead and took the blood drenched towels into the bathroom to soak.

I've never liked the word miscarriage. It sounds too much like mistake.
Every time a couple conceives a child it is a miracle.
When that child dies before it is born a woman still goes through labor and delivery.
When an unborn child dies, a parent's heart is broken.
And now I know that heartbreak includes
brothers
sisters
aunts
uncles
grandfathers
and grandmothers.
Goodbye sweet baby.
We all miss you.

A MOTHER'S LETTER TO HER UNBORN CHILD

Dear Child,
It's been only a day since I lost you. Yesterday I had such plans for you and now today you are gone and where you are I cannot go.
You were the answer to your parents' prayers. You should have seen the look in your father's eyes when I told him you were coming. We were so happy. We told everyone you were on your way.
Each morning when I woke, I would stoke my palm across the place where you were growing.
Your father teased me about wearing maternity clothes before I really needed to. But I wanted the whole world to know. Even morning sickness reassured me of your presence.
Whenever I went somewhere, I knew you were with me. It made me complete. I could never get over the miracle that somehow God and your father and I had created a human life.
Then I lost you.
I'll never forget you. Your are my child. You have been part of me. But I miss you,and when I go out now, I feel alone. I don't see life in the same way since I lost you. I walk softer now; life is more fragile, more precious. I hope someday I will be able to have another baby. But it will never be the same as it was with you. The feelings I've had with you are separate and unique. I do thank God for the time we had together.
I love you. I may never be able to hold you in my arms, but I will always hold you in  my heart.
Your Mother

A FATHER'S LETTER TO HIS UNBORN CHILD

Dear Child,
Last night I took your mother to the hospital. She was in so much pain. I wanted to stop what was happening, but I couldn't.
We were so excited for you to  come. When I found out you were on your way, I wanted to stop people on the street and tell them the good news.
I used to call your mother every day to find out how she was feeling. She always laughed and said she was fine. Sometimes during my lunch break at work, I would walk through the toy department of a store near my office. My life seemed to count for more. I felt like someone important. I was going to be some one's father. We put your crib on lay-away.
I don't understand why this had to happen. Our house is too big and too quiet. I have so many questions.
I didn't carry you inside of me, but you were part of me. When ever I took your mothers in my arms, you were there too.
It's hard to say good-bye when I never had the chance to say hello.
Your Father.

Years ago I wrote an article about miscarriages. You can read it here.

My daughter Arianne wrote a beautiful tribute to her child. You can read it here.

I love you Arianne and Jared.

I'm so sorry.

MOM
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My Lincoln Memorial Visit

Visiting the Lincoln Memorial was a moving and personal experience for me. Abraham Lincoln had a difficult life and an untimely death, but he was able to change the course of human events  . . . because he followed the dictates of his own conscience.  

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."Pin It

Visiting the Washington Monument

We're standing in front of the Washington Monument. George Washington was appointed commander in Chief of the Continental army. He signed a peace treaty between the United States and Great Britain. He helped unite the delegates to vote for the United States Constitution. He was elected as the first president of the United States. He was president when the Bill of Rights was adopted. He announced that he would not run again for president when he was so popular that he would have been re-elected for a third term. This man is my hero.  Pin It

Announcing the Release of HEALING FROM ABUSE . . . How the Atonement of Jesus Christ can Heal Broken Hearts and Broken Lives

It's real.
It's wrong.
And you can STOP IT.

I'd like to announce the release of my newest book titled "HEALING FROM ABUSE . . . How the Atonement of Jesus Christ Heals Broken Lives and Broken Hearts".

If you have been abused or know and care about someone who has - you need this book.

While some would rather pretend it doesn't exist, the fact remains that abuse happens all around us, and it's our job to intervene.

In this Christ-centered approach to preventing and stopping abuse, I describe the path to awareness, empowerment, and healing that will break the cycle of abuse.

This must have volume
*defines destructive behavior
*details the necessary steps to take when leaving an abusive relationship
*shows victims how to heal and more forward with their lives in meaningful ways
*teaches friends and family members how and when to help loved ones escape abuse

With hope and encouragement I share my personal convictions of the power you can have when the Savior is at your side. This book is perfect for survivors of abuse, counselors, church leaders, and concerned friends. Healing from Abuse gives readers everywhere a new sensitivity to destructive behavior so you'll know how to recognize and keep it from hurting the people you love most.

I will be doing my first book signing at Stokes in Salem Utah tomorrow June 14th from 11-3.
(Stokes is located at 795 N. State Rd. 198) 

If you can't make the signing but would like to buy a book please click on the picture of this book on the right hand side of this blog and it will take you to an on-line store where you can purchase HEALING FROM ABUSE . . . How the Atonement of Jesus Christ can Heal Broken Hearts and Broken Lives.
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At the Feet of Thomas Jefferson

Thomas Jefferson wrote and signed
the Declaration of Independence

- a document that was considered high treason
for the country that ruled over him.

To those brave men and women
who conceived of a better way for mankind to live,

may I offer my deepest appreciation

for your courage to put your life on the line
for me.

You were able to imagine
 that a new nation was possible

where these words would ring true for generations.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident,

that all men are created equal,

that they are endowed by their Creator
with certain unalienable Rights,

that among these are Life, Liberty
and the pursuit of Happiness."

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Greetings From Washington

Our family had the wonderful opportunity to visit Washington DC this past week. I feel so grateful to live in this country. I love America. I love the inspired government that our founding fathers put into place for us. I love all the men and women who have fought and died to keep our freedoms.

"God Bless America, land that I love. Stand beside her and guide her, through the night with the light from above. From the mountains to the paries to the oceans white as foam. God bless America. My home sweet home."
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Spanish Fork Pioneer Cemetery - Talk given by Janene Baadsgaard at the Dedication: We Remember you . . .

This was a tender Memorial Day for our family. We spent the morning hiking to the top of a mountain - which has become a holy journey for me. I feel closer to God when I am on top of a mountain . . . but I don't get there without effort and pain.

Hiking a mountain is not easy.

Life is not easy.

This was the first Memorial Day when someone in our family has left this life rather out of turn . . .  before his parents, before even his grandparents. Though it has been a few months, our hearts are still raw.

Our family traditions on Memorial Day give honor to those who have passed. After we hiked the mountain, we visited my parent's grave in Salem and went around the circle remembering and saying something we loved about my mother.

Then we visited the Pioneer Cemetery in Spanish Fork where we remembered our pioneer dead and especially a great-grandfather Nathanial Jordan who is buried there. I was happy to see a new story board there that had bronzed the words I gave at the re-dedication ceremony several years ago. Here are those words . . .

"So, to the dead who were laid to rest here we say . . . we remember you . . . we remember your name . . . we remember your bravery in the face of hardship. We remember the babies who died in your arms. We remember your pain and tears. We remember all you gave up for us. Yet we also remember your joy and your boldness to begin anew in spite of trials and hardship. Because of you we also desire to find new courage to move ahead with our own lives in spite of the challenges we face today. Because of you we remember spring follows the winter and a new dawn always follows even the darkest night."

Next we visited Ross's parent's graves and walked through the flags of all the fallen soldiers from Spanish Fork who died fighting in the wars for our freedom.

Finally we visited my grandson Caleb's grave. His parents are still in the process of picking out a granite marker for his grave but a sweet friend had given them a temporary marker. We really miss Caleb. Watching my daughter and her husband and children mourn has broken my heart. Yet I know that we will see sweet Caleb again.  I know that those we love who have passed will be with me again. Even then, that sure knowledge doesn't take away the longing to be with Caleb, to hold him, to feel the warmth of his skin next to mine.

Yet it is healing to remember, to celebrate those who have gone ahead without us. Honoring those we love who have died, also honors the precious life we have left to live. Pin It

Big Tree Family Hike

On Memorial Day we had a BBQ at the cabin and hiked to the big tree. The big tree is the biggest white pine this side of the Mississippi. One of our favorite things to do when we get there is to join hands and see how many of us it takes to circle the tree.

When families join hands good things happen.

photos by Arianne Cope

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Happy Birthday Emily!

Emily’s Musical Braces

by

Grandma Baadsgaard

Happy Birthday Emily.

This is a story I wrote just for you.

Never forget to listen to the music inside you.

I love you so very much.

            When Emily woke up on the first day of summer break from school, she heard music playing in her head. It sounded just like a full orchestra between her ears.

             Emily hummed along with the music for a few minutes. Then she decided to think about something else. She thought about what she wanted for breakfast. But the music wouldn’t stop playing. Emily was slightly bewildered but this had happened before, especially after practicing the piano. Sometimes the rhythm in a song she was practicing was difficult and Emily had to practice that part over and over. Long after she was through practicing, that part of the song would play over and over in her head. She even found herself tapping the rhythm out with her fingers. But the piano practicing music in her head would eventually stop.

Not so on this morning. This full orchestra playing inside her wouldn’t stop. Emily shook her head but the notes wouldn’t fall out. She tried jumping up and down but the music inside her head just got faster.

Well this is strange, Emily thought. What am I going to do now?

Emily really didn’t want to tell anyone about her dilemma because they might think she was a bit odd; so she just got dressed and walked into the kitchen for breakfast. She could see her mother’s lips moving but the music in her head drowned out what she was saying. Emily just nodded politely and smiled hoping what her mother said was not too important. Emily was relieved that she didn’t have to go to school that day because she was pretty sure she would get in trouble if she couldn’t hear what the teacher was saying.

Emily did a lot of smiling and nodding that morning. No one seemed to notice that she couldn’t actually hear them. In fact her sister Sandy seemed to want to talk to her more than usual because Emily was such a smiling, nodding good listener. Emily could tell what her little brother Andrew wanted without words because he always used a lot of body language. Libby gave her lots of hugs.

After breakfast Emily opened the back door and walked down the steps into her back yard. Their house was at the end of the street and was surrounded with wide open fields. Emily sat in the swing and listened to the music inside her head while she watched the birds fly over-head. She listened to the music inside her head as she watched the sun rising over the eastern horizon. Emily felt like she was a movie star in a movie about her own life. Then she closed her eyes and just listened. The music swelled and then grew quiet. She leaned her head back while holding fast to the swing and felt the wind wash over her while the slow peaceful part of the song played.

When she opened her eyes she saw her daddy standing in front of her with his arms outstretched for a hug. Emily jumped from the swing and hugged her dad.

She knew her dad was good at fixing things so she yelled, “Daddy I can’t hear anybody talking to me because there is music inside my head that just keeps playing.”

“You’re probably picking up radio signals because of your braces,” her daddy yelled back. “Try sticking out your tongue and putting your finger in your right ear.”

Emily did just what her father said. Sure enough the music stopped and they didn’t have to yell at each other anymore.

“Thanks daddy,” Emily said.

Later that day, Emily was drawing at the kitchen table and she started to miss the music she heard all morning. Her daddy wouldn’t be home for hours to fix this problem so she tried to think of what to do. She tried waving her arms and smiling real big so her braces could catch the signals. But nothing worked. She walked out the back door and sat down on the steps. She looked up at the sky and watched a bird fly by. She felt the wind on her face. She noticed the sun sinking into the west. Then she placed her right hand over her heart and stroked her fingers in three soft circles.

The music began to play. Only this time Emily could control the sound, volume and tempo of the music inside her. Her heart created music to fit what she was feeling. Emily created loud, lively music when she felt like dancing. She created sad music when she felt like crying. Emily created soft soothing string orchestra music when she wanted to fall sleep at night.

Emily never lost her gift of music. She never felt alone again. Whenever she needed silence, she stuck out her tongue and put her finger in her right ear. Whenever she wanted full orchestral accompaniment to her scary, happy, gloomy, or remarkable day, she rubbed her heart three times.

Then her music began.     

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The Eclipse in Southern Utah

                                                                                                Photos by Arianne Cope


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Happy Birthday Libby

Dear Libby, here is a story I wrote just for you on your birthday.

Never forget how much your Grandma loves you and what a treasure you are.

Libby - Ray of Sunshine

by

Grandma Baadsgaard

          When Libby woke up in the morning, her room was dark.

“I know just what to do,” Libby said pulling back the curtain covering her window.

          Sunshine streamed in through the east window and flooded her room with light.

            Libby rubbed her eyes and walked into the kitchen. She found her dad eating his cornflakes looking rather glum.

          “I know just what to do,” Libby said. “Close your eyes Daddy.”

Libby walked over to her dad, climbed into his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a great big kiss. He smiled and hugged her back.

          “How is my Libsers?” her dad asked. “You’re my ray of sunshine.”

          Just then Libby saw her mother flipping pancakes next to the stove.

          “Hey mom,” Libby asked, “what is a witch’s stand?”

          “What do you mean?” her mother answered.

          “Whenever we say the Pledge of Allegiance at school, they always say, ‘we pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the republic for witch’s stand.’”

          Libby’s mother laughed out loud and hugged Libby.

“Oh, Libby, you always make me smile,” her mother said. “You’re a ray of sunshine.  It really says, and to the republic for which it stands.”

          Libby shook her head as her mother gave her two pancakes.

Then Libby’s sister Sandy walked into the kitchen and Libby’s mother gave her three pancakes.

          “I know just what to do,” Libby said. “Hey Mommy, you gave her lotsters than me.”

          Sandy smiled and giggled.

          “I love the way you make up your own words,” Sandy said. “That is lots more not lotsters than me. Libby, you give me sunshine in my tummy.”

          After breakfast Mommy dropped Emily and Sandy off to school and took Andrew and Libby to the grocery store.

          “I know just what to do,” Libby said as she raced to find the shopping cart with a car and steering wheel.

          When Libby’s mommy put Andrew into the car, he smiled so big.

          “You know just what to do to make Andrew happy,” Libby’s mommy said.

          When they got home from the grocery store Libby’s mother said, “Libby you can choose to clean your room or play with Andrew while I make lunch.”

Libby shook her head.

“I know just what to do,” Libby said. “Mommy you can choose to let me watch my Barbie movie or you can let me play with Megan.”

Libby’s mommy laughed. Libby shook her head.

“Mommy, you can choose to let me ride my bike or let me eat candy.”

Libby’s mommy wrapped her arms around Libby and gave her a big hug.

“Libby you can be my sunshine,” her mommy said, “or you can be my sunshine.”

“I know just what to do,” Libby said. “Sunshine. I’ll be your sunshine.”

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The Miracle of Spring in My Own Back Yard




If spring came but once in a century instead of once a year, or burst forth with the sound of an earthquake and not in silence, what wonder and expectation there would be in all hearts to behold the miraculous change.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Snowballs of blossoms.

Purple violet iris stand like queenly guards over my garden.

Green pea vines.

Aging pines burst with tender new branches.

New raspberries welcome honey bees.

Fall's harvest of grapes begins in embryo.

After the apple blossoms fall, apples begin.

Hollyhocks next to the fence.

 

Happy Mother's Day

DOWN HOME with Granny B

Happy Mother's Day
A wise man who understood the marvelous miracle of children and the mothers who love them once wrote:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

for they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit,not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

for life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and he bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Lat your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

(Kahlil Gibran)

Sometimes with all the bending, we mothers fear we'll break. But when we hang in there a little longer, we find more bend inside than we knew we possessed.

Being a mother is a tremendous responsibility and an unequaled joy - a lifelong, exhilarating/exhausting, exuberant/exasperating task.

I'd rather make a home than a fortune. I'd rather bow for the tender kisses of my children and grandchildren than before millions of fans.

I believe a loving home is the greatest gift one person can give another.

Being a good old average mom is truly one of the few irreplaceable jobs in the world. Whatever else I do with my life, someone else can do it, even if I become President of the United States. But I'm the only person who can by my children's mother.

Years ago my fourteen-month-old daughter Amy struggled for oxygen in the hospital pediatric ward. Amy was terrified and screamed when the nurse tried to place her in a croup tent. But when I slipped off my shoes, lifted my body up onto the hospital bed, maneuvered myself into the croup tent, and reached out for her, Amy quickly crawled into the ominous hissing enclosure and into my waiting arms. Her small shaking body lovingly molded to mine as she gently laid her tiny head on my shoulder. You see, Amy knew that if her mother was there, no matter how frighteng it it appeared, she would be home and safe in my arms.

Through all the carrying, delivering, holding, feeding, changing worrying, comforting, cleaning, encouraging, and working - the burdens of motherhood sometimes grow heavy. Yet because of that weight, we discover a stronger person inside.

Through loving our children, we are born again. 
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What Thinks Christ of Me?

"I testify that as you love Him, trust Him, believe Him, and follow Him, you will feel His love and approval. As you ask, 'What thinks Christ of me?' you will know that you are His disciple; you are His friend. By His grace He will do for you what you cannot do for yourself."

Elder Neil L. Andersen General Conference, Apr. 2012

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Book Review of "For Every Mother"

     A while back I re-connected with an old friend I knew in high school. Estella lives in California now and even though it's been forty years since we were in high school together, it feels so comfortable to have her back in my life after all these years.  
     We have been e-mailing back and forth for a while. She told me she was a member of a book club that wanted to read, "For Every Mother" and asked if I'd be willing to answer a few questions that club members would submit. Then they would use those answers in their book club discussion. It has been so fun for me to connect with this wonderful group of women who love reading as much as I do. 
     You know writing is such a solitary work. Being able to connect with my readers is what keeps me writing. Thank you Garden Book Club for reading my book. Thank you Estella for taking the time to tell me their reactions.
Here is Estella's letter to me explaining how their evening went after reading "For Every Mother".
Hi Janene,
I wanted to follow up with you to let you know that our book club discussion of "For Every Mother" went SO well! Every single one of my Book Garden friends who read the book LOVED it, and those who hadn't had a chance to read it were totally inspired to do so after hearing our discussion. I might add that it is *extremely* rare for there to be a unanimous positive reaction to a monthly book club selection. There are usually opinions all over the place from "I didn't like it at all", to "It was okay", to "I liked it", "I loved it" (you get the picture). EVERYONE loved this one, and our discussion was one of the best we have ever had because, of course, we had your beautiful answers to our interview questions. Many hearts were touched and some tears were shed as we listened to the tender and encouraging thoughts you shared with us. There are a few in our group who can especially relate to what you said about abuse, and we are all looking forward to reading your book on this subject when it comes out in June. Thank you for never giving up on getting it published!
I learned during the book discussion that one of our Book Garden members who is a Relief Society president in our stake has been using quotes and stories from "For Every Mother" to encourage and uplift sisters in her ward who are facing some tough challenges right now. She searched for some copies of it to give as gifts to these sisters, which led to her discovery of "15 Secrets to a Happy Home". She loved it, too (of course), and now the rest of the group wants to read it! We are having trouble finding copies of it. Karen found a couple of used ones online, but we are wishing that we could purchase some new ones somewhere. If you know of somewhere they can be found, let me know so that I can pass the information along. We have been snapping up copies of "For Every Mother" as they become available in the online Seagull Bookstore, as many of us want to get copies to give our mothers, sisters, children and friends, but those keep getting sold out! We will, however, persevere!
Thank you again, so much, for your participation in our book club discussion. It was one of the best we have ever had, and we have been reading and discussing books for many years now. . . Some of our members are young moms with kids who can't make the meetings but who read the book selections and get the notes from our discussions by email, and we have some members who have moved to other states but who also read our books selections "from afar"!  Here is a photo taken at one of our Christmas functions. Thank you again, dear friend, for being a part of our book club in May, and for continuing to uplift and inspire women throughout the world with your wonderful books.
Love,
Estella
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