And there I was, driving away from my family, my comfort and all I had ever known, back to someone who was so unstable, unrecognizable, someone so different who I was supposed to love and try to help. My heart sank. As I rounded the corners of the canyon road my stomach began to turn, I felt so sick and my mind started going a thousand miles an hour. I only felt this feeling when I was pregnant. Was I pregnant? Or was I just nervous about the unknown? Was this rehab going to work? Would my long lost, best friend return to me this time? Was it going to be like all the other times where I hoped and prayed and hoped and prayed only to have it all fall apart? Oh gosh, am I pregnant? What will I do? Is my husband finally going to be who he needs to be for my little girls and me? The questions just kept coming, but no answers. The sickness got worse and worse, as I got further and further down the road and deeper and deeper into my thoughts.
I reached my destination and quickly bought a test at the drugstore. I headed to the bathroom reading the directions and did just what I was supposed to. I never took my eyes off the test. I knew how hard it would be if that test were positive. Slowly but surely both lines got darker and darker and I knew… I was pregnant. How could this happen?! I knelt down and prayed and asked Heavenly Father to take this away from me. This was not going to be good for my husband’s recovery and I asked Him to please not make us go through this. I knew I would be alone and I knew I would be sick, oh so sick, alone, taking care of two toddlers. I knew my husband didn’t have the ability to take care of me let alone take care of the children who would need it while I was sick. I was so scared.
I called my mom and asked her to please call my mother in law and let her know. I knew everyone would think I was crazy to let this happen when we were already struggling. Just then, my husband returned from the treatment center, the one I had placed all my hopes and dreams into, the one I thought would be the miracle that would save my marriage and restore my family. He looked at me, and I noticed how dark his eyes were, the light, the twinkle I had always loved was gone. He told me he no longer was going to be a member of the church we had both been so devoted to at one time. I thought my heart would break into a million pieces. How could one person change so quickly? How did drugs take the man I loved and turn him into something so different? I knew I had to tell him about the test so, I reluctantly told him the news about the pregnancy. He acted strange like he was happy but terrified. He didn’t want anything to take my attention away from him and his recovery. He kept telling me that his recovery came first, before me and before this pregnancy. I knew he wasn’t recovering. I knew he was deep into his addiction and used recovery as an excuse to get out and feed his addiction.
That night as we were about to lie down, he looked at me with tears in his eyes and told me he was going to kill himself. He didn’t feel loved and wanted to end his life. He had a loaded gun and set it in the closet. He told me he didn’t want to live but that he wouldn’t go without me. I worried he would shoot me and then shoot himself. How did it get to this point? What was I going to do? I prayed. I asked Heavenly Father to bless me to say the words that he needed to hear to calm down. The words flowed from my mouth and slowly he softened the expression in his face and came and lied down. I talked to him for a long time as he sobbed and cried. I laid my body across his so that if I fell asleep I would feel if he got up. My heart always felt compassion toward him and what he was going through. I wanted so badly to help him. I wanted to take his pain away somehow. Tonight was different though. I was beyond scared. I just wanted to get away from him. I wanted to get my children away from him. It was a long night. I never slept. I prayed all night and knew that if I could make it to the morning, I would leave. I would never be in a dangerous situation like this again with him.
The morning came and I quietly got up, gathered a few things and left with my children. We drove back to Arizona to live with my parents. I called and told him we would not be returning. He needed to finish his treatment without us. He needed to get things under control before we ever lived with him again. He eventually stopped calling. He said it was too hard to listen to me tell him about what I was going through with my pregnancy.
This pregnancy was hard, harder than the first two. Throwing up all day while trying to take care of my children without the help of my husband. I dealt with feelings of abandonment while trying to explain to my crying children where their daddy was. It was the hardest with my oldest daughter who thought it was her fault her daddy wasn't around anymore. She asked me one night if she played with Star Wars toys instead of princesses if it would make her daddy come home. It was so hard to explain this to her. She was so little. Some nights I would just lay in her bed with her and we would just cry together. I had no words, I just shared the same feelings.
So where are the flecks of gold in this experience? Here is where they begin or at least where I started to see them:
Lilee, my 5 year old daughter said to me as I was driving one day, “Momma look at the clouds. See the fluffy one with the sun shining through? That means Jesus is with us.” On another particularly hard day for me she said, “Did you know that Heavenly Father loves you momma?” There are so many examples of the comfort she gave me in the words she said but my favorite was when we went to the temple visitors center and listened to the words of the Savior as we looked at the Christos. I noticed how intently she listened to the words that were being played over the speakers in that beautiful room. She didn’t say much about it that day but she came into my room in the middle of the night and told me she had had a dream, that it was not a normal dream. In the words of a child trying to express a spiritual experience, it was “something like in church.” She told me that she had heard a voice. The voice sounded like the Savior’s voice she had heard in the temple. She said, “He told me to take care of my sisters.” Tears filled my eyes as I could see that she truly understood what that meant.
On multiple occasions during this time, I would walk into my mother’s room, in the middle of the day, in the mornings, and at night. There I would find her kneeling beside her bed praying. I knew she was praying for me, praying for my children. Every time I saw this, it would bring me comfort. It would help me to remember that I was not alone. Even now as I think about it, it brings me comfort. We laughed that I must have had a prayer radar that drew me to her room every time she prayed. I think I truly did. This “prayer radar” was such a blessing. It reminded me to pray and reminded me how much my mother loved me. It gave me faith. A mother’s prayer is a powerful thing and when a child sees their mother kneeling in prayer, it is the most powerful thing.
I got through the sickness of my pregnancy and it came time to deliver the baby. My father drove me to the hospital in the middle of the night and he and my mother stayed with me the whole time. My father placed his hands on my head and gave me a beautiful blessing in the hospital. In a moment I had dreaded for so long because I never wanted to deliver my baby alone, all I felt was peace. I would look over at them as the contractions came sitting on the small couch provided for families next to my bed and again, peace filled my heart. They never left my side. I knew that with their help and the help of the Lord I would be able to deliver and take care of this baby and even though I did not have a husband to help, I did have the Savior by my side. She came, almost 9 lbs. She was a healthy, chubby, beautiful baby girl. We all fell in love with her at first sight.
I came home from the hospital to a beautiful room. My mom had made everything so beautiful and comfortable. I will never forget walking into that room. It was filled with all of the things I would need to take care of my new baby. That room was heaven. It was sacred to me. I felt so well taken care of and so loved. Every time my mom would hear my sweet Emmee cry she would come in and help me get her latched on and nursing. She'd change diapers and hold her so I could sleep. She was always there to help.
As Emmee got a little older, I moved her to another room so she would sleep better. There were many times she would wake up crying in the night. I would roll out of bed to go and rock her back to sleep and as I would round the corner, I would hear my father’s deep voice singing, “I Am a Child of God.” I would hear him patting her and would peak in through the crack in the door and see him rocking her. I knew he enjoyed every minute of it. Emmee never felt a void. She always had a father figure in her life, he loved her with all his heart and she knew it.
She continued to grow. The divorce was final and my children's biological father disappeared. Life became easier and although at times it was still hard, the little girls seemed to not care as much. They were having too much fun going and getting ice cream with their grandparents and enjoying life together as sisters. Swimming, trips to the mountains, walks on the golf course, and feeling so loved.
I started to date and thought it was going to be impossible to find someone I could trust, someone I could let be a father to my children who had been through so much. It took me 4 years and then when I had all but lost hope, there he was at a birthday party we had both gone to. He got my number and asked me on a date. He showed up at my door to pick me up with a bouquet of blow pops for the girls. I didn’t let very many men I dated meet my girls but something told me this was okay, so I let him give the suckers to them. They were so excited. I didn’t know it was him yet, it took me some time to let go of my fears and trust. He was patient, he was kind, respectful, and he let me take my time. We were married and I have to admit I kept waiting for everything to implode, for something to happen. It never did. No marriage is perfect, but he was capable. He took care of me. I can still remember the feeling of having him take care of me instead of feeling like I needed to take care of someone else all the time. It was a feeling that I had never known in marriage. I felt safe and so did my children. When we got home from our honeymoon, the girls called him daddy. I didn’t tell them to, they just did it. And from that time forward, he has been their daddy, a true daddy. One who takes care of them, plays with them, holds them when they cry, teaches them important truths, and most importantly treats them like they were always his… because they were.
When I was in the depths of despair and asked Heavenly Father to spare me having to go through my pregnancy, I didn’t know that everything was going to be okay. I didn’t know Emmee would have a father and a grandfather that would take on that role of father so beautifully. I didn’t realize the lessons I would learn from my faithful mother or the love my beautiful children would bring into my life. I absolutely didn’t know of the strength that was inside me and of the faith I had within me. I found that and much more through this experience. It shaped me into a stronger woman, made my spirit more beautiful and deepened my gratitude for my Heavenly Father and Savior. All of those things combined are worth more than gold to me. They are priceless and though I wouldn’t want to go through any of it again, I am so incredibly grateful for every moment of it.
I like to think of my life like a pendulum that swings. It swung so far into despair, pain, sadness, and grief. When it started to swing back it had to swing the same distance in the other direction. There have been so many moments of joy, happiness, gratitude, love, peace, and just pure sunshine and it all came from the hardest experience in my life.
There were many times I asked, “Why? Why do I have to go through this when I have tried so hard to be good in my life? Why would Heavenly Father put me through such a traumatic experience?” One night as I pondered this question, the words to this poem came to me:
Ride the Bike
There it was, the one that I had long looked for,
The perfect gift to give my child so she could soar,
A bike, something that she would have to learn,
I knew she could do it, I did, now it was her turn.
I bought the beautiful bike and with love I gave it to her,
The joy she would have as soon as she would learn,
The feeling of the wind blowing through her hair,
Oh the magic scenery she would see in the open air.
But first I’d teach her there were things she’d need to know,
There were some good rules to follow before she could go,
Safety first, steer the right direction, and fresh courage take,
It’s important to know when to pedal and when it’s time to brake.
She got on and as all children do wobbled a little at first,
I steadied her and gave a push, then waited for the worst,
As a father I wanted nothing more to see my child succeed,
Knowing that hard lessons learned come with success it seems.
The bike went down the road toting a child with a tight grip,
So tight in fact, in a zigzag motion the front tire slipped,
Down she went, and a little knee scrapped the ground,
She looked at me, at her knee then let out a shrill sound.
I ran to her side with the anticipated Band-Aid in hand,
I reached down and gently grabbed her arm to help her stand.
Confused and hurt from the blow, she asked “Why’d you let me fall?”
“Daddy, I looked back and you weren’t holding on at all!”
“I had to let you fall my child,” I said. “I knew you would,
For you see it was the only way to let you see you could,
Rise above the challenge and you’ll see, your hurts will mend,
You can do it, now get back on the bike and try, try again.”
She got back on and with determination upon her face,
Began now to relax her grip and pedal at a steady pace.
There were a few more falls that only helped her more,
Until finally she let go of her fears and doubts, and began to soar.
The joy she felt as the wind blew through her hair,
Oh the magic scenery she saw in the open air,
A feeling of great accomplishment and peace filled her heart,
Because she endured the challenge well from the start.
And from the experience, with its many ups, downs, and turns,
Trusting in her Father was the best way to carry on she learned.
That by letting go of the doubts and fears that left her standing still,
Thrusted her forward, and her sails with mighty winds were filled.
By Amanda Hodges
Wow.
Posted by: Lani | November 11, 2016 at 10:03 AM
What an inspiring story of beauty from ashes. Mandee's courage and strength really shine!
Posted by: Channing | November 11, 2016 at 10:20 AM
Wow! I am just catching up on the Alchemy stories and Mandee's is amazing! Her strength and incredible faith has always shined through! Seeing this story in writing has deepened my love and admiration for her so much!! Your are incredible Mandee Hodges!! love you, my friend!
Posted by: Manal Hall | November 18, 2016 at 10:52 AM