This is our family's journey- the story of our daughter's fight with cancer. Along the way, we will have some tears, lots of love, and even more prayers going up to heaven. We know that our Heavenly Father is aware of us. We know that he will help us fight, fill our hearts with peace, and send angels to give us aid. We send praise to HIM. Join us in this battle. This battle of courage, determination, and most of all faith in God that all is well and will be well.
This is where I will record my feelings- raw, real, and unfiltered. Welcome all.
Follow us on Facebook for quick updates- find us at OUR WARRIOR PRINCESS group page. Click the join button and we will add you!

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Late Night Reminiscing and a Little Prayer

Call me crazy for I might just be,
as it is 1:30 am,
and I do have to be up in less than 6 hours,
and my little sweet 11 month old might give me less sleep than that...
but I just had to post tonight.

A couple of days ago, my good friend Stevie posted on FB that her cousin's
son was recently diagnosed with ALL cancer. broke my heart.  This little boy
is the cutest little boy with a smile that melts your heart.  He seems to be only 4 or 5.  Seriously way too young to be going through this.  My heart broke and I have thought a lot about his family since then.  I have followed their updates on this little boy and all seems to be going well, but I understand too well the emotional, physical, and mental strain that is bearing down on their little family as they start to tread these new waters of childhood cancer.  I say again, UGH, UGH, heart goes out to them.

Someone (an old ward friend of mine that also happens to know this family) mentioned on their FB page for their son that they knew me and my child had had cancer years ago and then linked them to my blog.  This sweet friend said my blog was inspirational.  What a kind comment and I truly hope that it is inspiring for those that read it as it was my way of letting go, finding peace, and keeping up my faith as we went through our trail of childhood cancer.   I couldn't help but click on the link and go to my blog.  I went through each post clear from the start to the latest post.

I sobbed.
I cried.
I wept.
Tear of old pain.
Tears of old sorrow.
Tears of old frustrations.
Tears of hope.
Tears of gladness.

Tears of seeing miracles.
Tears of having good friends.
Tears and tears and more tears.
 Ugh, I haven't ugly cried in a long time.
But reading this blog, brought back so many memories.
Things I had pushed way back in my mind.
Experiences and stories that had been tucked away.
From a story that began with confusion and tears that ended in joy and tears!
I am so glad that I documented and wrote down our good and bad times.
This experience has made me a better person.

After spending an hour or so reading, I crept down to Evalette's room.
She is sleeping so peacefully.
She still has some side effects from the chemo...
she has night sweats,
she is eating better, but still has food aversions,
she catches every little sick bug that comes her way
and hangs onto it for a long time,
she is still taking naps most days as she gets pretty tired and worn out,
her legs still hurt sometimes,
and she doesn't have as much stamina as her siblings, but now just over 4 years later
she is strong and each day that goes by she gets stronger.
She hiked up to the "Y" yesterday.
There and back (2.44 miles of super steep mountain switches). 
I was so proud and she was so proud.
But it did wipe her out-
she slept until 10 this morning and took over a three hour nap this afternoon.

She is a feisty pants and gets pretty set on getting things her way.
She is stubborn and lets you know when something isn't exactly right, but
she is a sweet light of happiness.
She insists on hugging each one of her siblings before bed each night and cannot
sleep unless she does so.
She still loves for me to sing to her every night and so I do.
She still loves to snuggle next to me in my bed when we occasionally takes naps together and she loves to brush my hair, rub my back, snuggle into my arms.  And then she sighs contently as I do the same for her.
She tells me how beautiful I am and how much she loves me on a daily basis.
She is our living miracle.
I don't know if she will ever know how much she impacted my life for the better.
How her journey has made me grow into a better, stronger, more positive person.
I will be forever grateful that she is mine.
So I tuck her in, kiss her cheek, and she mumbles something in her sleep.
Sleep well, little girl.
Sleep well.  

So I think of this dear little boy and his family right now.
I pray for peace for them.
I pray for angels to guard and watch over them.
I pray for good friends and family to lift them up.
I pray for good doctors to be wise in their care of this boy.
I pray that they may see the light in the darkness, the joy in the pain,
the good in the bad, and feel peace amidst the sorrow.
All my heart and love goes out to them.
So pray for McKade tonight and for his family because right now I am sure the road ahead seems daunting and long, but my prayer for them is that they will know that along that long road that seems so dark right now, they will never be alone! 

Monday, August 24, 2015


Can I tell you a end of a chapter you could say. 
 Let me begin by saying, "We are doing very well".
We love it here in Santaquin.
Life at this moment is full of soccer, lots of boy stuff, a few girl things (lots of nail polish), summer fun, and sweet days.
It is wonderful, busy, and sometimes crazy!
 I must attract all things primary (which I don't mind) because once again I am in the primary presidency in our current ward.
It is a wonderful calling and I learn so much in primary.
This month, I am in charge of sharing time.  The topic is miracles-  Jesus Christ has Power over the Earth.  If I could talk about anything in the world it would be about miracles.  Miracles are real and they happen all around us all the time.
This week, I talked with the children about opening our eyes and noticing the miracles around us; to start a "Miracle Journal", a recording of the wonderful amazing things happening around us, to ourselves and others. As I was preparing, I was reading back on this blog as I wanted to share a few miracles from it.  I realized that this blog was just that- a miracle journal.  It is full of God's love, his works, and his miracles.  It was the turning point in our life that made us better.  But the biggest miracle of the story was missing- the ending.
 Suddenly I had the thought that it was finally time to share; to share the ending of the story- the part about the biggest miracle of all in Evalette's cancer journey.  At the time the miracle was unfolding I hesitated to share.  It was special, sacred, and so amazing that I didn't know how to even share it.  And we didn't exactly know the ending yet after all the decisions were made.
But now we do and now I need to share;
for my daughter, for my family, and for anyone wanting to know if miracles are real.

The beginning of the chapter was our daughter getting sick.
A month of questions, finally a few doctors appointments, then a hospital visit, a life flight, and a scary stay in the ICU at another hospital were the events that started it all.
 As you have read this blog and/or have been involved in our little Evalette's journey, you know the bulk of this chapter in her life, her cancer story- steroids, chemo, late long nights, tears, hugs, nurses, home health, rescue meds, surgery, bone marrow aspirations, helping hands, friends, love, and prayers.
 So much more involved, but our life did go on.  It was hard, it was different, it was not what we expected.
March 2013, then summer 2013 and finally fall 2013.  I remember hurting, aching inside.  I remember begging God that if there was another way then to help me find it and to save my daughter from years of this horrible chemo journey. We had another two years of chemo and it was almost more then I could bear.   In late August, she was dying.  Now nobody told me that, but in my heart I knew it.  The chemo was so hard on her, too hard on her.  It was killing her.  She was so sick, so weak, and losing the will to live.  It is hard to explain, but as her mother and her care giver I knew.  I was heartbroken; my little baby was struggling to live, my boys at home being raised without me, my husband was working hard so we could have insurance and money to pay the bills, and all because even though Evalette was in remission, the doctors insisted that we needed to do more chemo and push her little body to the limit to make sure the cancer didn't come back.  We were a study, a guess, a hope.  No firm data, just that 2 1/2 years of chemo seemed like it did the trick in order to get her "cured".  There had to be another way.  So I asked and begged in fervent prayer to my Father in Heaven to provide another way.
 I had the thought to share my concerns with James.  I was nervous.  I didn't sleep well at the hospital for days.  I was depressed, overwhelmed, and frustrated.  I didn't know what to tell James.  Finally, I talked with him on the phone and mentioned my prayers to God and my feelings.  Surprisingly he had the same concerns.  We decided we would pray and figure out what the next step would be.  I talked with my mom and sister and interestingly enough, my dad, my mom, and my sister had had similar thoughts; the chemo was killing her.  Then later that week, James' mom had called and said that Elder Clayton of the Seventy, who she works for, asked about Evalette, and said that he felt strongly that her name needed to be added to the First Presidency Prayer Roll.  That week, my Evalette's name was prayed over by our Living Prophet and his counselors.  I felt so loved and knew that God was hearing my prayers.
 James and I decided that we needed to talk with Evalette's doctor and voice our concerns and ask what our options were.  Before the appointment we had with Evalette's doctor, I prayed that her doctor's heart would be open, that she would be willing to hear what we had to say, and understand our good intentions, our deep concerns, and the most of all the good desires of well being for our daughter.  The meeting went very well and we were told that after this phase of chemo was over, we could take a break and decide what we wanted to do from there.  She insisted that they wanted us to move forward with the original plan after an extended break, but was willing to hear what we wanted to do.  What a blessing this was.  I remember feeling such gratitude and love for Dr. Wright and her kindness to us; she was meant to be our doctor.  She is the only doctor I know of in the oncology department that was so open and willing to hear patients concerns.  It was no coincidence or by chance, God had placed her as our doctor.  She was the one on call as we came into the ICU on that long night of March 27 with a diagnosis of Infant ALL.  Thus she became our doctor as she was the first to see our case.  She was meant to be our doctor and for that I am forever grateful!
 After Evalette's rough phase of Methotrexate (evil mustard gas), we were sent home.  We were to make the choice of a small break and then starting up where we left off, or starting at a less hard phase with out-patient chemo that would last a year.  I didn't feel peace, James didn't feel peace, and we didn't know what to do.  Back in the hospital I remembered the impression I had had that if I didn't follow the prompting of the spirit, Evalette would die, not from cancer but from the chemotherapy.  I couldn't shake that thought of the recent impression I had had.  James and I both knew that further chemotherapy was not an option, none at all.  She was in God's great hands.  We phoned her doctors and it was a difficult call to make.   They could have told us that we had no choice.  Evalette is a minor and by law, if the doctors told us that we had to do chemo based on certain data and facts, we would have had to or possibly end up losing our daughter and possibly other kids to the state.  But once again, a miracle occurred our doctors said it was our choice. There was no for sure data to prove that 2 1/2 years of chemo would cure Evalette, only a guess or a 5-10% chance.   They wanted us to do "the plan", but untimely, amazingly it was up to us.  We explained that we would no longer have her in chemotherapy, but we appreciated all that they had done and that we would involve them in her checkups.  They asked that she be brought in monthly for bone aspirations to see if she had relapsed after we stopped the chemo and to be prepared that this would most likely happen, Evalette would relapse if we stopped chemo.  We agreed and a date was set that we would sign papers, taking her out of chemo.
The day arrived and we sat at the end of a long table with a bunch of doctors on either side.  James and I stood firm to our decision.  We were told that the hospital board thought that we were incompetent and didn't understand what we were doing.  Dr. Wright told them that we were very smart and had done tons of research, which we had, and that we knew the consequences of our actions.  Miraculously the ok was given.  We signed a paper stating the we were most likely killing our daughter (no joke) and that we were solely responsible when this occurred.  Before we left, our resident doctor wanted to know something.  She wanted to know why.  We tried to explain that it was just something we had to do, a feeling in our heart, something God was telling us to do, that it was time to be done with chemo.  She was cured and we were choosing to trust in God.  That is all we knew.  She wasn't happy, but Dr. Wright was supportive and she had no choice to let us go, although she disagreed.
Oct 2013, surgery was scheduled to take out her port (something she would no longer need), an echo and a bone aspiration were also on the check list.  We needed to know if she was still in remission before her journey of no chemo began.  Her heart looked great and she was still in remission!  Nov and Dec came and clean bills of health did too.  2014 started out well and we convinced them to let us go up to Primary Children's every other month.  Each visit they were amazed- "Evalette looks well",  "She is gaining weight", "Everything looks good.", where the things we heard.  But we weren't surprised, God had healed her.  We knew she was cured.  Through his miraculous power, by the way of good doctors that he had put in our path, modern medicine, priesthood blessings, and then finally just his will that she had been healed all because of HIM.  I knew that Evalette was here to show that miracles happen.  God has power to the earth.  He can do anything.
April came and so did her 2nd birthday.  We celebrated her 1 year remission mark and her life.  It was amazing.
Now another year has gone by and we are still cancer free.  Despite the concerns and naysayers Evalette is still in remission.  We still see her doctors regularly and do blood tests. But she is a happy, spunky, healthy, vibrate girl.  I am so grateful God gave us another way and that we listened.   This is the end of this chapter in her story of life.  This is what brings us to the breathing, walking, talking, beautiful miracle she is today.
But that is the amazing thing....we are all miracles.
From birth throughout our entire life, God works miracles on us.
Through forgiveness, love, and sending us angels to guide and direct.
Through his gift of the Holy Ghost, through times of sickness, times of stress, times of peace,
God is always working his miracles on us.
We are all MIRACLES.
Just some are easier to see and notice then others.

In the April 2015 General Conference, Bishop Gerald Causse said,
     "My wife and I had the great joy of rearing our five children near the magnificent city of Paris. During those years we wanted to offer them rich opportunities to discover the marvelous things of this world. Each summer, our family took long trips to visit the most significant monuments, historic sites, and natural wonders of Europe. Finally, after spending 22 years in the Paris area, we were getting ready to move. I still remember the day when my children came to me and said, “Dad, it’s absolutely shameful! We’ve lived here all our lives, and we have never been to the Eiffel Tower!”
    "There are so many wonders in this world. However, sometimes when we have them constantly before our eyes, we take them for granted. We look, but we don’t really see; we hear, but we don’t really listen."
I hope we can open our eyes to see more and open our ears to hear more of the great many miracles and beautiful things of God all around us.  Thank you for sharing this chapter, this journey with us, and witnessing the miracles.  Much love to you all!

Thursday, October 23, 2014

What Cancer Has Taught Me...


 A year and a half ago, our lives drastically changed.
We entered a new normal of sorts.
Hospitals stays, tons of crazy meds,
doctors visits, the home health nurse was daily visitor,
and most of my daughter's and my life was spend at the hospital.
I wasn't sure how I could handle it all…such a drastic change.
Now, life is beginning to become as it was "before cancer".
And yet, we are not the same.
We are forever changed.

Cancer taught us things that we could have not learned otherwise.
I know my Heavenly Father at a greater level then ever before,
I understand pain, anguish, and love more then I ever imagined possible.
I now know more medical jargon than I ever wanted,
and I now know that my family is the most important thing in the world.
Cancer changed our life in so many ways,
there were tears, but there was also growth.
And now after all that has passed, I can truly say that I wouldn't change a thing.
Now don't misunderstand me,
I don't mean that I enjoyed seeing my daughter suffer, or liked watching her endure great pain,
and that leaving my family was easy,
but the things that were learned from the great experience were great things indeed.
I learned to live in the present.
Every moment is great.
Every moment needs to be lived.
Every second of every day….every little moment.
We need to let go of yesterday, forget our wishes and wants of tomorrow
and live for today.
We can make plans for the future and enjoy memories of the past,
but most of the time this very second needs present living.
Life is much happier that way.
Our focus needs to be in the now.
Life is a wonderful thing…if we can live in the moment.
I have come to see the beauty of every moment.
Secondly, I have a greater knowledge that I am not in control.
My entire life, I have strived to control.
I like to plan, then execute it, and make it happen.
We are a structured family….it runs smoother that way.
Well, cancer was not part of my plan.
But I soon learned through much anguish and fighting on my part,
that my God loves me.
He is in control.
I never have been.
Silly me.
And who better to be in control then he.
He wants to help me.
He wants to guide me.
He wants to see me grow and learn.
He wants me to let go.
He loves me and has never left my side.
I just thought I needed to be in control.
When in reality, I was wasting my energy.
There is a plan and nothing is coincidence.
He is our guide and if we let him,
He can safely get us though all the raging storms
and the aching questions of this mortal life.
This being said, you may ask, but your daughter lived,
maybe you wouldn't be saying this if she had been "called home".
Maybe you are right, but I hope that from learning to trust God during this journey,
I would have trusted him enough to remember that all things happen according to his will.
Once again, nothing is coincidence and everything happens for a reason.
There is no use fighting against it….God has a plan!
So I am grateful my daughter is in remission.
Grateful, he answered our prayers and allowed her to live and thrive.
But our future, unknown to us, is in his hands and there I am letting it stay.
I also learned that I can do HARD THINGS!
If I would have known that my family had to endure this trial of cancer,
years before it came to us, I would have said "no way…I don't want it…
I can't handle that".
But with God, anything is possible.
I learned that even though our little family felt beaten down, torn, tired, discouraged,
and alone that we could do it.
With the help of a loving Heavenly Father, wonderful family, and amazing friends,
we have made it through.
We can all do hard things.
 I now know that miracles occur around us everyday.
Miracles are still happening.  
God does hear and answer our prayers.
He is perfect and answers them in a perfect way.
Sometimes our limited understanding due to being a natural man gets in the way
of seeing how perfect the answers are.
But everything that happens to us is all part of a greater plan then we can currently see.
I now try to see things with a greater eternal perspective.
And finally, LOVE is the ultimate healer.
Love makes everything possible.
Our Heavenly Father is love and our perfect example.
He showers his love upon us everyday.
We just need to try to see it.
and all things pertaining to love are so important.
And I try to show more love now because we all need more of it.
This world needs more of it.
We never know how much we can touch someone's life because of some caring, kind words
or a simple act of charity.
You have all taught me that.
Thank you.

Now that the biggest part of our cancer journey is over, I am finding another norm.
This time, with a better understanding, but certainly not perfect, then before.
This time with new goals and a greater perspective in mind.
This time, God has given us the gift of cancer to bring us to our current place.
We are better and we are changed.
And we are grateful.


A. Little. Story.

It has been a while.
I have been updating our family blog since it got sorely neglected
while the intense treatment for Evalette was going on.
But tonight, I have some feelings to share.
A story if you will…just a short one that needs to be written.

Yesterday was a crazy day.
Enoch had a fever….his first.
He was burning hot and cranky.
Not that I can blame him.
Evalette was sensitive and cranky.
She hasn't been sleeping well and
we are certain has some sensory issues from her cancer experiences.
She will scream if her toys get touched or if something isn't exactly as she wants it.
Some days are ok and she is her sweet self.
And then there are other days were she just is so sensitive, especially when she isn't sleeping.
And today was an extremely sensitive day.
And Lance was being a teaser….oh boy.
Not mention he was also cranky.
Do you notice a trend here?
I certainly do.
Lance was feeling like he needed some attention.
I was a little busy with a fussy sick baby and a sensitive, over tired girl.
I can't blame him either.
Thank goodness I had my big helpers, Tyrell and Jarom.
By the time James walked in the door, I was going crazy.
I warned him about the day I had had and that I was at the edge of my sanity.
I explained that I wasn't sure I was even a person anymore…
I hadn't even looked in the mirror all day.
I was feeling sorry for myself and was worn out.
I had tried to stay positive, but I wanted to curl up in a ball in a corner and never come out.
So I took a drive and cleared my head.
And remembered that I was indeed a person, not just a nurse, a maid, and a referee.
I counted my blessings and came home.
I still felt a bit down, but felt a bit better.

Today, I was determined to get back into the groove of things.
This morning on Facebook, I had a friend request from a friend that I had hadn't seen or spoken to in over a year.
I was excited.
It was a dear friend that I had met at the hospital when Evalette was first diagnosed.
She was such a strength to me during that time.
I was so excited.
She sent me to her blog to read her most recent post.
It touched me so much.
I cried and cried.
This is what I needed today.
A reminder that I was needed.
I had helped someone.
I was remembered.
I was loved.
And that God hadn't forgotten me.
He sent me a miracle and reminded me of who I am.
Here is her post….

Thursday, October 23, 2014

"Tell Me a Miracle"
As my dad got home from work yesterday, he sat down on the couch to tell my mom about his day when she said to him: "Tell me about a miracle you witnessed today." A little caught off guard, he said he couldn't think of one right away. They continued to recap their day to each other while my mom began looking for a friend's blog online. She couldn't remember the exact web address so she was typing random things in Google with the hope that she would come across it. Not more than one minute later, she found a blog she had never seen before but the title of the blog intrigued her so she clicked on the link. The link took her to a post from back in June of 2013 so she began to read. About midway through this fairly long post, the writer quoted George Q. Cannon and my mom immediately thought: "This is my miracle. I need to read this to Liz." The quote said: 

"The Saints should always remember that God sees not as man sees; that he does not willingly afflict his children, and that if he requires them to endure present privation and trial, it is that they may escape greater tribulations which would otherwise inevitably overtake them. If He deprives them of any present blessing, it is that he may bestow upon them greater and more glorious ones by and by."

Logan and I and our families are doing quite well right now but it's always comforting to hear words like those of George Q. Cannon's. My mom made a mental note to call me later and tell me about the quote and then continued reading. Thinking she had already received her miracle by stumbling upon this quote she thought was perfect for me, she wasn't quite prepared for what she read next:

"Today was our first day back at the hospital...since four days ago. We sure do love this place (I wish you could hear the sarcastic tone in my voice). As we settled into our new room (actually it is our old room 4413- they save it for us!) and got back into our regular hospital routine, I found myself scanning the names on each door. Looking for friends and wondering about how they came to be here. So many families, so many children, so many stories. Then I begin to think about Logan and Liz. Their name is no longer on the board, they got moved to the second floor. Little Eli needed some extra attention. I then hoped that I will see them soon; maybe in the cafeteria, in the laundry room, or down the hall. My good friends. Our day drags on with chemo, vomiting, pain meds, rocking in our chair and then more chemo, more vomiting, more pain meds and rocking in our chair some more. Oh my little girl, hang in there we can do this. We can do hard things. Finally she fells asleep, exhausted from it all. Sweet soft cheeks, sparse, yet long eyelashes, and perfect lips. Oh how I adore her.

I think of Liz and Logan again. I hadn't seen them yet. I was getting ansy. I had to know how my friends were. So I pulled up their blog...and wasn't prepared for the news I read. Sweet baby Eli had received his angel wings last Saturday while we were at the hospital. My heart broke and I sobbed. How could I have not known? We were right there and I wasn't there to help ease their burden. My mind raced back to our month together, right after my baby was diagnosed with cancer. Liz and I became instant friends. It wasn't hard to talk to Liz. She always had a smile on her face. And even though her baby was in critical condition and struggling to live, she would always ask how we were doing. She and Logan never complained and never asked why. Such amazing people. Why them? Why did their son have to die? Out of anyone, they deserved to have their child live. It isn't fair that my child is asleep next to me, stable and well, while they had to walk out of the hospital with empty arms. My heart aches. How can this be? All I know is hug your babies close. Time is precious. Going to snuggle with my sleeping angel...and to think and pray. To Liz, Logan, and amazing Eli you have changed my life forever. Thank you for all you have taught me. Sending peace and love your way!"

Sweet Danielle. I haven't spoken to her since we left the hospital and I somehow never knew she kept a blog. Danielle is right, we became fast friends. She was an angel to me during our months in the hospital. We connected quickly and I loved talking to her. She exuded great strength that I tried to mimic during our difficult days. Her sweet princess is in remission now and that brings such happiness to my heart. I love hearing about these warrior children that are able to make it through. Eli could have if it was part of God's plan. It wasn't, obviously, but I'm so glad it was part of God's plan for Evalette to stay here with her family. **If you're interested in reading that whole post, click HERE. She talks about our Eli a little bit more at the end. Follow her daughter's story as well. They're an amazing family!**

I love that my mom asked for a miracle and was prepared to receive it. I needed to hear those words and feel so grateful that Heavenly Father was so mindful of that.

Although, Liz says I was her miracle, she was mine.
I needed to know that I was more than a run down house wife,
a busy mom, and a tired woman.
I am needed.
Thank you, Liz.
Once again, you have blessed my life.  

Tuesday, June 24, 2014


This blog has been quiet as of late.
But our little family has been pretty busy.
I have had good intentions of posting on here,
but those good intentions never did get done.
So tonight, I am doing it!

There isn't a good way for me to express my love and appreciation for all our angels, friends,
and cheerleaders, 
but know how much I love you.
How grateful I am for your love, concern, your selfless acts of kindness, 
money contributions, meals, and thoughtful prayers.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

May was a busy, crazy, pull out your hair kind of a month.
It was the first week of May that Evalette started acting funny.
She would keep her food in her mouth for hours.
She was so picky and would only eat certain things.
She was cranky, ornery, and just so sensitive.
I just hoped it would pass...teething and you know normal two year old things.
But the next Saturday, she was worse.
I remember telling my brother that I was worried.
So worried that she had relapsed.
They say relapse starts exactly the way the cancer started.
The symptoms are exactly the same.
And she was acting just like she had almost one year before.
A couple of days before she was diagnosed with cancer.
I was trying to stay calm, but I didn't know what to do.
Evalette wasn't eating, literally she had a few bites of food a day.
She would sleep for hours.
She was so exhausted, so exhausted that when she was awake she would lay on the ground,
or in my arms,
or on the couch with her blankets.
She won't play, talk much, or interact.
She was on the warm side...not feverish, but slightly warm to the touch.
She looked horribly pale.
And she was losing weight fast.
And she had no extra weight to lose.
It was horrible to see her this way.
And she needed 24/7 care, so James and I took care of her round the clock.
We didn't know what to do.
So I asked for our family, friends, and all of her wonderful cheerleaders to pray for her
and for us.
We so desperately needed answers and miracles.
Thank you to all of you that aided us with your love, prayers, kind words, and positive energy.
They made a difference!
After much prayer, we decided to take her to an InstaCare, the third weekend in May.
They didn't know what was wrong.
They tried to get a blood draw for a CBC, but couldn't because she was too dehydrated.
They gave us two options,
go to the hospital now and get admitted,
or wait until tomorrow and take her in then.
So we waited.
I just couldn't admit her...she had seen too much of hospitals in her short life.
Monday came and James took her in.
Good news....her blood work looked normal.
It was good news, but I was still so worried.
She still was very sick.
It certainly seemed like relapse.
We still had no answers as to what was wrong.
More news came on Monday.
We had to move.
Now that is a long story and no need to rehash it here,
so it will do to say...we had until Thursday to move into our new place.
I remember thinking and wondering how I would do it all...
a very sick child,
a newborn baby,
three growing, active boys,
an entire house to pack up and then clean,
mail to be forwarded,
addresses to change,
wonderful friends to see and say goodbye to,
and just so much to do.
How could I do it all?
I am not sure how because I am pretty sure I didn't really tell anyone of our current struggles,
but somehow word got out.
Soon meals were being brought in for Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday so I could pack and not cook.
What a blessing!
James took the rest of the week off and he became Evalette's personal nurse.
He was an angel for me that week and an angel for her.
He loving feed her every hour, held her, rocked her, and sang songs to her.
She needed his love and his one on one attention.
On Wednesday, James took Evalette to her doctor here in Springville.
She was extremely concerned.
She gave us an antibiotic, looked at her lab results, and worked with Primary's.
We talked feeding tubes, a possible hospital stay, and what we could do to get her better.
In light of our current situation, it was determined to wait and to see if she could get better on her own.
We were told to come back on Friday and have her reassessed.
While daddy watched over Evalette,
The boys and I packed, or well I did.
They unpacked everything I packed!!!
But we got it done.
Soon moving day came, I was so torn.
I need to help James get things loaded and ready to move, but I couldn't leave my Evalette.
And once again, so many sweet people offered their aid, but I decided she would be most comfortable at my sister's home.
Jessica, my older sister, has been my angel many times.
She took all of my children and reassured me that all would be well.
And I knew it would.
So James and I spent the morning finishing up some small things and starting to load up some things.
We wanted to take a load that afternoon and then one later that night.
As the afternoon went on, we realized it was taking us more time than we thought.
So I prayed for another miracle, that an angel would come and help us.
And an angel came.
A wonderful 18 year old boy in our ward came over.
He noticed the truck and wondered if we needed help.
We sure did.
He and James loaded up the truck in record time.
He made sure that James had someone to help him unload the truck at our new place
before he left after the truck was full.
He never complained even though the boxes and furniture he loaded were very heavy.
He was our angel.
McCabe, thank you.
Then James' brothers and dad showed up.
They helped us with unload that first load.
It wasn't easy and we were so grateful.
It was about this time, that I was wanted to set fire to the rest of our stuff....moving a family of seven isn't easy.
But they kept going.
We got back to the house and some wonderful men from our street showed up to help us with the last load.
They were wonderful.
Some were as young as 11 years old and some were as old as 70.
I couldn't believe it.
And then we took the next load to our new place and with the help with some wonderful family members by 11, we were done.
Jess kept the kids for the night and James and I crashed.
When we went to pick up the kids the next morning, I was surprised to hear that Evalette was doing a bit better.
She had ate some homemade yogurt that Jess had made.
She had played some and walked around a little bit.
I was grateful for my sisters loving care and that she loved my children like her own.
But the miracles didn't stop there.
Friday came and our new place was a wreck.
And I still had our old place to clean.
Evalette still needed lots of care.
And I was still slightly overwhelmed.
Jess watched the kids while I went back to clean.
James' sister, Shar came to help me.
I didn't think it would take long, but I was wrong it took most the day.
My wonderful neighbor and dear friend Maria came by.
She noticed the cleaning and had come to help.
She made the cleaning fun as we talked and reminisced about serving in the Primary Presidency together.
Oh how I love Maria.
She had so much to do but was there helping me.
Thank you Maria and Shar.
Soon the house sparkled and I said goodbye.
It was time to move on...
My parents called.
they had just gotten back from my dad's business trip the night before.
They were now on their way to Utah.
I told them to go home and to rest after their long trip,
but three hours later, they were at my door
and then I cried.
More angels, more miracles.
More help and love than I had ever imagined.
My parents got to work like they always do.
The boys felt loved,
Evalette had her "bompa" and "wamma".
I felt like a load had been taken of my shoulders.
They hung my pictures, put my kitchen together so we could at least eat,
helped make beds and hang clothes.
They watched Evalette on Sunday so we could go to church.
They made homemade yogurt for Evalette, which she gobbled up, so she could have something to eat.
And then they showed me how to make it.
They never complained even though I am sure they were dead tired.
Oh my wonderful angels.
My examples, my sweet parents.
How I hope to be like them someday.
I cried Sunday night, as we waved them goodbye as they drove away back to Idaho.
The month of May continued on and the last week came and went.
And I have to admit, I was not sad to say goodbye to May 2014.
But things were getting better by the end.
During the last week of May, Evalette finally starting eating more.
She began to play with her brothers again.
And her cheeks starting pinking up again.
She was getting better.
The doctors were not sure what had been wrong, but we were all so grateful!

Now in June,
we are settled.
New grass has been planted in the backyard,
a garden is beginning to sprout in the back,
weeds that were once in the front flower bed are now gone,
there are no boxes randomly hanging out in my house
(only a few in the garage!),
the drawers are organized (and will be in disarray soon I am sure),
the kids are growing and happy with our new place,
new friends are being made (although we miss our old ones),
we make yogurt twice a week as it is now Evalette's favorite snack,
Enoch is getting to be such a big boy,
the boys live in the swimming pool in the back yard and are becoming fish,
we are loving the country air ( I swear it is cleaner out here),
we have been camping twice, fishing once, and hiking a bunch of times,
and summer just keeps getting better.
I am still grateful for the miracles we experience
and for all the angels we have in our lives everyday.
And especially that this summer we are all together.
Doing normal summer things, together.
Just as a family should.

Friday, April 18, 2014


We celebrated Evalette's birthday with as much fanfare as possible.
"Icing Smiles", a non profit organization, arranged for a local baker  to make Evalette a huge amazing birthday cake.
And in whatever theme she wanted…FROZEN of course.

So on the 12th of April, we gathered with our family at our home
and celebrated LIFE.
Her life.
And welcomed in her new little brother, as he was getting blessed in our church the next day.

Two beautiful little lives.
Such blessings.
She loved the attention.
And she loved her cake.
And she loved her presents.
And she loved it all!!!
And we loved watching her take it all and seeing her beautiful smile!!

I found this little dress and knew she had to wear it on her birthday.
She is a SUPERWOMAN!!!
And she has conquered it all!!