Come on Mummy!

    Fusi at the summit

    I believe that for many of us, our deepest fears are rooted in our deepest desires. This is certainly the case for me, but it wasn’t until I left YSA that I realised just how deeply I desired to find a husband and have children, and how deeply I feared this dream never coming true. 

    I loved my time in YSA but I moved on to single adults racked with feelings of failure and despair. While I was in YSA, I let my fear guide my path believing that I was protecting myself from disappointment. Looking back, I see that my fear wasn’t protecting me, it was sabotaging my chances at reaching my goal. Now I doubted whether I would ever have a family of my own. My despondency continued to grow until I found myself facing the beginning of yet another without the family I wanted.

    Hiking Rangitoto Island has become a New Year’s tradition for me. The hike symbolizes the trials and challenges that would be sure to come with the New Year and is an opportunity to accomplish something difficult and to remind myself that anything that might challenge me that year can be overcome. 

    This year I wasn’t feeling particularly motivated. I dragged my feet most of the way up and stopped many times with the thought of giving up. Another year had passed, and I hadn’t made much progress on my goal. It seemed that everyone was getting married and I was still here. The closer we got to the summit, the more discouraging my thoughts became. 

    Fusi hiking

    Five minutes from our destination, I stopped for good. I couldn’t keep walking. I burst into tears right there on the mountain having reached the end of my ability to endure. I told myself that I had done enough and decided to quit. Just as that thought entered my mind, something caught my eye. I turned my head and saw a boy standing further up the dirt path. I knew that he was a spirit. His hand was outstretched gesturing me to come to him and he said with a voice I immediately recognized,
     
    “Come on Mummy!”


    In that moment my emotions completely overwhelmed me. He was my son; I knew he was. I had always planned to name my first boy Nephi and though I only saw him briefly I instantly knew him as my ‘baby Nephi.’ 

    He disappeared suddenly as a family came around the corner, but I knew what I had seen. I knew that God had granted me this special experience so that I would know that He knew my pain and that He hadn’t forgotten me. I hurried to the summit with a renewed strength and determination to do whatever it took to reach my goal.

    At the temple at night

    Motherhood does not start with giving birth. My children need me now! They need me to keep going, to remain faithful and to prepare a home for them to be raised in when their time on earth comes. God is mindful of us. He hears our prayers. He knows the intent of our hearts and if we let Him guide us in His own time and in His own way, we will reach those righteous desires that we have.