My sister Shayna sent us this for the blog:
My big sister has always been a sort of mirror for me. Not that we look alike, because we don’t. Nor that we think or act alike, because well, we’re very different personalities. No she’s a sort of mirror merely because we were sent to pass the same life together at the same time. But not a perfectly reflective mirror. More like a photo negative of me. As we grew together we had similar good times and similar bad times all of which we dealt with in very different ways. She was always very feminine and emotional, while I was more masculine and stoic. She was a great speaker, writer, and poet, while I preferred numbers, science papers, dictionaries, and power tools.
I didn’t understand her as a child but I looked up to her, and she gave me advice when I was struggling that turned me to God.
As I became an adult our lives paralleled either in a strange dance. She got married and a few months later when I announced my engagement she stole my thunder by announcing her first pregnancy. Don’t worry, my first pregnancy soon followed. She had her first son, 6 months later I had mine. I had my second and 6 months later she had her 2nd. We continued this strange dance sharing the joys and sorrows of life. Our children played together when we were close and we even nursed each other’s babies.
I've never had a hospital birth and teach unassisted birth. She started her births in the hospital and moved to home birth, even trying unassisted once!
She never put her children in public school. I started mine in public school and fought very hard to make that work until I submitted to homeschooling. Something I’m now very grateful for her influence for.
I call her my mirror because I could look at her and see a parallel life with a different lense and different effect.
We both had only boy babies the first 4-5 times. When I had my first girl I was terrified I would lose her. No, I was certain of it. So when my sister told me she was terrified something would go wrong with her baby girl pregnancy, I laughed at my former self and said, “I thought so too."
We both were carrying babies due 2020. But I was not thankful for this pregnancy, and she was! And I was carrying a healthy child, and she wasn’t.
My baby lived, to change my mind, hers died to change her heart.
My sister affects me greatly and so does her daughter Abigail.
My daughter is 6 yrs old and a treasure to me so I know what Abigail is to Katrina and what she represents in missed connection.
My newest son? Well when I was in labor, wanting contractions to hurry and bring him closer, I thought of Katrina and how contractions meant the end of a life and not the beginning of it ( or so she thought). When my son was born I was overjoyed and so thankful. And when I suffered pain, fatigue, depression, Abigail was there to remind me how grateful I was to have this baby to make the struggle have meaning. To remind me that when Katrina feels those things she won’t have the sweet touch of soft baby skin gripping your finger tight to soften the heart. When my baby cried in the night and I prayed for relief, Abigail reminded me I didn’t want relief.
And today May 18 when I was having a stressful day, wondering how to make it through, I read my sister's blog about contemplating death, and then how she almost succumbed to it.
Going through this journey with Katrina and Abigail has taught me to be grateful and have joy for everything, All the time, everyday, everyday, everyday! The old adage that someone always has it worse than you is powerful when that someone has a name, and a face, and is close to your heart.
My son and Katrina's Abigail are closely connected. For me they have a shared impact. I can’t see him without seeing her. Ever.
While pregnant I was so mad at God for not honoring my desire to get a break from childbearing to recover my body. Over time I came to bond with my pregnancy and understand that I would need to learn to enjoy the journey rather than halt it.
A powerful moment for me was in sitting in the temple very pregnant, with a very pregnant Katrina beside me. As I mentally chatted with my Eternal Father and apologized for being ungrateful for the pregnancy He drew my attention to my sister. It was as if He said, "Look at your sister! She wants this baby. She is thankful, and hopeful, and won’t get to keep this baby. You have been sad and bitter, and you are receiving a gift! The very gift, she wishes for, but you have been ungrateful." I came to understand deeper what a gift each child is.
I've had heartbreaking miscarriage before many times; it’s actually why I welcome babies freely into my home now. But this was even deeper. I've learned that in the pre-existence I agreed to be a mother of many babies. I took it upon me as a mission. I said, “I can do hard things, give me something big to do down there! And give me all the babies that need homes! Of course I'll take all the babies, they are a joy." But I forgot that joy for a moment, and that mission. Abigail and my baby reminded me.
When I was third trimester pregnant and pondering about Abigail, I prayed an unusual prayer. I prayed my baby would have a physical connection to Abigail. I knew they would be close, not only because they were in heaven together, but also because my children were always close to the Lantz cousins they were born around. I prayed for that confirmation, knowing it was a little late in the game to give a physical altering to my baby that matched Abigail. I didn’t know what it would be or even that it would be anything. But I prayed for it just to say, I'd like it.
When Trevor was born I didn’t think much of that prayer at the time. I was thankful for a healthy baby and breathed in the joy of that gift over and over. As we readied for his footprint I noticed two toes stuck together! “KISSY TOES”! That’s what my family calls them. I knew instantly they were the sign I had needed, that Father graciously gave. As he’s grown you can see that he not only has kissy toes but actually there are 6 toes! 4, and 5 are webbed and 5 and 6 are fused as one.
Abigail was born with very unique limbs. Katrina said each one was different and she cherished the uniqueness. She had on one foot, syndactyly of two toes. Kissy toes!
So when I’m up late rocking my baby in pain of body and mind from the day, as I am right now, I think of Abigail and just how much Katrina would love to rock her till it hurt. When my breasts ache from nursing I’m thankful I can nurse. When my arms hurt so bad from the constant holding of a very demanding baby, I see Abigail in his feet. When my mother heart sorrows for the weight of parenthood I think of Katrina and the weight of being trapped between two mothering worlds.
My heart aches for her. My heart fills for her and because of them! My pain turns to their pain. If only I could turn my joy to their joy.
Now I don’t live near my big sister, and I’ll be honest, I hate it! I want to stand as sentinel over her home, but maybe those that served her so well wouldn’t have had the chance. I want to visit Abigails grave every day! But maybe I would have ignored the living. I want to rescue and snuggle my nephews! But maybe I would have interrupted intimate family bonding! I wanted to buy Abigail's memorial Angel, but the beautiful gesture of many people providing it was far more powerful!! I want to protect Katrina and save her. But what would I be protecting her from? Her wonderful new community? Her doting husband and true protector? Her living children? Her serving friends?
I want to save her. But if I ever could possibly have that power what would I save her from? Greater depth? Conversations with her heavenly Mother and Father? Sorrows turned to joy? Lessons I can’t even comprehend? Strength I can’t fathom? Vulnerability that I can’t touch? Connection to her true Savior?
No, it’s better that I’m at a distance, but I hate it!
In all the sorrow and pain, I am learning greater capacity, greater quality, and greater joy.
I love your family.
Aunt Shayna
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