We slowly watched her health deteriorate for two years. In the summer of 2009, Aaron's dad also started having heart problems. He had battled heart disease for over 20 years, so this was no big deal at first. But after several ER visits, a couple of surgeries, and some very close calls, we knew that his heart wouldn't hold out much longer. I wondered who would die first, Aaron's dad or my brother's wife.
At the same time, my own life was really challenging. My depression medication had stopped working (apparently very common when you're on it as long-term as I have been). I was treating everybody I cared about so horribly. I was mean, and I am so glad my friends didn't give up on me. I was in a very dark place. I wanted to die. I had more than given up. Somehow, my 4 beautiful children and my loving husband weren't enough to keep me going. I had been to several doctors trying to find the right medicine to help me get feeling better, and was starting to talk to a counselor too, but things just weren't looking up. The house was falling apart, I wasn't keeping up with anything. For the first time in our marriage, Aaron saw the "depressed Amberleah". He struggled with it. He had never seen me like that and didn't know how to help me.
One afternoon, I decided it wasn't worth all the effort. I laid on the couch, and told Aaron I wasn't going to get up again. I just wanted everything to end. The world would be a better place without me in it. He could re-marry after I died, and the kids wouldn't suffer because I felt I was a horrible person/mother/wife anyway. Aaron put one arm under my neck, and one arm under my knees. He picked me up (no small feat!) and carried me outside. He brought the lawn mower out of the garage and said "mow!" I was furious. How dare he tell me I had to try? How could he tell me what to do? He grabbed my hand, showed me how to start it (sadly, I had never mowed the lawn before this), then held my hands on the handle and stood behind me while I pushed the lawn mower. Eventually, he let go and I finished on my own. Aaron had saved my life. Without his support and love, I would have given up. He didn't have to do that, I was a horrible person when I was depressed. True, I had other friends that helped me in this dark time. Co-workers, ward members, and family helped too. But Aaron was my knight in shining armor. He helped me get through one of the darkest times of my life.
As I started getting things under control, Aaron's twin (Eric) and his family came to stay with us for a few days. We were so excited to meet Eric's new wife, and their son. They were also expecting another baby. We learned later that Aaron's dad's first reaction to the news of another grandchild was "I will never get to meet that one". He, too, was very brave. On Sunday, June 28 we had family dinner together (I made meatloaf and mashed potatoes) Glen said some things that hurt my feelings. I left the house with my SIL and all the kids that would fit in my van, and I was angry and hurt. (I couldn't even tell you what it was about). Just as I got home, my cell phone rang. Aaron's youngest brother. He NEVER calls me. I knew what the call was, and I answered in a shaky voice. He said "Dad collapsed. Aaron and Eric are giving CPR, but it doesn't look good. This isn't good."
We left the older girls in charge, and got back in my van. We drove back to my in-laws home, both of us terrified. When we got there, Aaron and Eric were in the front yard, crying. We all got in the car, and headed for the hospital. Still 5 minutes away, Aaron's brother called me again. "He's gone". This wasn't fair. My brother's wife had cancer, she was supposed to be the next funeral. I was still so depressed, and now Aaron had lost one of his best friends. Eric's vacation was spent planning his father's funeral. It was a beautiful service. The Freedom Riders were there, it still gives me chills to think of all the American flags flying in honor of Glen.
Three weeks later, July 19, I got the call that my brother's wife had died. Hard as it was for somebody so young to leave this life, it was a beautiful service. I don't know how people survive without the knowledge of the gospel, and eternal families. I could never have made it through two funerals without that hope.
In August, I found out a good friend at work also had cancer. It was devastating news, especially right after losing two loved ones. He only survived three months after the diagnosis. I still think of these three people all the time. I miss so many things. But I tried to take something from it, too. Life is short. Make the most of it. Very cliche, I know, but it hit me hard that summer.
Labor Day weekend of 2009, I called my sister with a question about "girl stuff". She said "are you sure you're not pregnant?" She was laughing, and I told her that it wasn't possible, "Right, Angie. Remember how hard we tried to have our kids? Remember all the money we spent? The doctor visits, the shots, blood draws, testing? We've never used birth control, and will never have to" But after a few days, I decided I would take a test. I was going to PROVE my sister was wrong. She wasn't wrong.
I walked in the bedroom where Aaron was sleeping.
I nudged him.
He rolled over.
Nudge.
Roll over.
Nudge.
Irritated grunt.
"Aaron!"
half-asleep "hmm??"
"we need to talk"
"I'm tired... what?"
"I think I'm pregnant"
"WHY would you think that?" (a little more awake now)
"because I just took a test"
Aaron sat up so fast, I nearly fell off the bed. He asked if I was sure the test was good. Was I certain it was positive? He bought another test. I took that one too. Positive again. We waited a few days, in shock (this wasn't supposed to be possible!) then bought another test. I text my sister "you were right". She knew what it meant. She let out a scream of joy.
If you've read my previous posts, you've learned that Aaron likes to pick baby names as soon as we find out we're pregnant. We already had two of each gender, and decided not to find out this baby's gender until birth. He wanted to name a boy Tanner Mark or, for a girl, Faith (we didn't decide on a middle name, Elizabeth, until months later). I knew it was going to be a girl, so even though I didn't like the name Tanner, I agreed. Aaron told me that Faith was the perfect name for the baby that wasn't supposed to be. The baby that was sent to us right after we had faced so many dark times. We knew we would need FAITH to help us get through the tough times.
Faith Elizabeth was born on May 1, 2010. It was my dad's 60th birthday. We had no idea how fitting her name was. We didn't know how much our faith would be tested in the weeks and months to come.
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