I think I need to "get real" here and expand on my faith vs. fear battle since her arrival.
It's hard. And it can truly be exhausting, physically and mentally. In many ways, I feel like a new parent. So many fears. Except... I am not like a new parent. Because a new parent still has the luxury of innocence. They are not sure what to expect.When I put McKinley down for a nap, I expected her to be alive when I checked on her. And she was. So was Ireland and Kezia. Link was not, and that has forever changed me as a person and as a mother. So, again, while I don't expect Noelle to die... I don't expect her not to, either. It's always in the back of my mind. It's hard to find peace. I try to sleep when she sleeps during the day (when I can), but it's hard to let myself relax. Losing a loved one, especially a child that you were supposed to be in charge of, and especially from SIDS where they don't know WHY it happened, does funny things to your brain. You make illogical correlations and irrational assumptions. I hear her make noises when she sleeps and I think "Good. okay. I know she's alive." And then, I think "but what if Link made little noises like that, too, right before he died? What if he struggled? What if that means she is going to die if I don't check on her?" So, I do. I check on her. Again and again. Is her color okay? Can I see her chest rising and falling? Is the blanket anywhere near her face? Is she strapped in?
I tell myself to not freak out. I tell myself she's not going to die. I tell myself "I have to trust that it's going to be okay this time because she's sleeping in our room or close by me all the time. I have to trust that the Snuza will go off if she stops breathing. I have to trust that she is strapped in so she can't roll over."
But at the end of the day, these things are not enough to put my trust in. I know that I could have her in my arms all the time, I could have the Snuza on her 24/7, etc, etc, etc... and she could still die.
And when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins; nevertheless, I know in whom I have trusted." 2 Nephi 4:19
I realize that I cannot put my trust in myself, or the Snuza, or strapping her in... or anything. It doesn't mean that I will stop doing these things, but it does mean that I acknowledge that I can't put my trust there. I need to put my trust in the Lord. And that's HARD, because when Link died, I felt like my trust was betrayed. I trusted Him, and He took my baby away. Over the past year or so, I've struggled with that, and I do not by any means have a perfect faith now, but I do realize that trusting the Lord doesn't mean that my life will be easy, that we will always have money, or that those I love won't die. It simply means that I trust Him to direct my life. I trust Him that whatever happens will be for my ultimate good. My ultimate growth. My bigger-picture-plan.
We read the story of Jesus walking on water the other night:
30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, Lord, save me.
31 And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and took hold of him, and saith unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?
And I realized that I am much like Peter in this story. When the winds of doubt and fear come into my mind and get overtaken with thoughts of "what if," I start panicking. Drowning. But I know when that happens, I need to redirect my sight (trust) to the Lord. If I keep my gaze on Him, I won't sink. I will be able to ignore the storm swirling around me and instead enjoy the miracle of walking on the water - i.e. being in the moment with my loved ones and just enjoying the seconds, minutes, hours, and days that I get to spend with them.