So there I was, lying in a shoot me now hospital nightgown which makes you feel so exposed (because you are… 😬) with my little “leg squeezers” on to help with clots and three older people were wanting to come in.
Can I tell you about those leg squeezers as a side note? I grew to despise them by the third pregnancy. They are constantly tightening and relaxing, yucky, itchy fabric and something about them gagged me. Like physically made me more ill to wear them. I knew they were for my good but you are hooked to the bed. Have to rip them off to go to the bathroom and forget trying to be comfortable.
But I digress…
I said come in, dreading it. It had already been a nightmare day before that. But there was this need in me to say yes.
One man blessed the bread and passed me a piece as small as my thumbnail. Then the water. Oh my gosh the water.
You see, water was my thing. When you haven’t been able to drink for months you kind of get fixated on things. For some it’s a food like a burger. For me it was cold ice water. I literally ached for it but it was what my body hated the most.
I cannot get my fingers to calm down as I type this. The trembling was and is real once again.
I reached out, begging, pleading in silent prayer to keep it down and not vomit in front of them, “Heavenly Father I am so done! Please, please, please, just this once. I’m trying so hard to be brave and grateful and I know you’re there. I know you’re standing with me. But just this once, oh I wish just this once I could hear how you feel about me. I’m trying, I truly am trying to endure.”
My hand shook all the way to my mouth and that teeny tiny thimble of water went down.
And now I’ll copy from when I wrote it down, if I can see through these tears.
“A woman shared a brief testimony of our Savior, then the sacrament was administered. Suddenly all three began weeping at the exact same time. I was so caught off guard I couldn’t even speak, but my goodness, never before have I felt such a powerful feeling of love and peace. And then the second man, barely able to speak through small sobs began to speak…”
Lynda Miller
This has been the most drawn out pity party I have ever heard. I understand your wish to have children but is it necessary to go on and on. I am unsubscribing, I don’t read blogs to put up with this never ending nonsense.