Overcoming Adversity: A Journey of Faith, Family, and Finding Purpose

Welcoming a newborn into the world is often envisioned as a time of pure joy and serene bonding. However, for many parents, it quickly becomes a period fraught with unforeseen challenges and intense emotional experiences. Our journey began with such an unexpected twist when we were sent home from the hospital with our precious baby boy, who required immediate phototherapy treatment using bili lights for newborn jaundice.

The Unforeseen Challenge: Navigating Newborn Jaundice and Bili Lights

The moment we learned our baby needed bili lights, an unfamiliar stress settled upon us. We were suddenly immersed in a world of constant vigilance, where our tiny son lay naked on a hard surface under bright, therapeutic lights, day and night. The routine was relentless: waking him hourly to check his temperature, a perpetual worry that he might somehow roll off the table – an irrational fear, as babies at that age typically don’t roll, but one that relentlessly jolted us awake. This period, while medically necessary, was emotionally taxing, requiring a depth of focus and care we hadn’t anticipated.

Ironically, this intense medical intervention brought us closer as a family. We found ourselves holding him more often during the brief breaks from the lights, breathing in his sweet newborn scent with an almost desperate tenderness. We circled up around each other, a united front, totally in awe of the miraculous gift of this baby boy. Despite the challenges, he remained perfect in our eyes, a tiny beacon of hope and love.

Our days turned into a blur of driving back and forth to the hospital for his heel pricks – a procedure designed to monitor his bilirubin levels. Each time, we waited with bated breath as his numbers rose and fell, charting the unpredictable course of his jaundice. Watching our fragile infant endure these painful pricks, day after day, was incredibly difficult. It pulled at my heartstrings in a way I had never experienced before. How could any parent simply stand by and observe their child subjected to pain, seemingly without end?

The helplessness was profound. We were not merely bystanders; we were the ones bringing him to these appointments, in a sense, facilitating the very pain he was enduring. Yet, we knew it was for his well-being, a paradox that is often at the core of parenthood. Perhaps this is the essence of becoming a parent: for fleeting moments, we are allowed to feel what our child feels, to step into their suffering, their joys, and their aching vulnerability. It creates an unbreakable bond, forging empathy that runs deeper than words can express.

A Mother’s Plea: Finding Strength in Prayer and Divine Connection

Through these trials, my thoughts often turned to a higher power, specifically to the concept of a Heavenly Mother. What must she feel as she watches us, her children, navigate our earthly suffering, our joys, and our profound heartaches? Does she intercede on our behalf? Does she send extra help when we are at our weakest? I believe she does. I imagine moments where a higher, compassionate being might wrap arms around her shoulders as tears fall for her children who may have forgotten their divine heritage.

In those moments, sitting with my baby as they drew his blood, I would pray. It was the same prayer I had offered countless times during three near-death pregnancies, through periods of unemployment, and amidst relentless hardship and heartache: “Help me to become like thee. Let these things change me, not break me. Help me to never forget. And please, if I must go through such things, help me to one day have a purpose with it all.” This prayer became my anchor, a desperate plea for transformation rather than destruction, for meaning in the face of despair.

And slowly, profoundly, the pieces began to fall into place. Our lives started to resemble a grand cinematic narrative, where every small moment, every challenge, every person we met, and every experience we endured swirled together. It became clear that there had been a meticulous plan all along. Every single event, no matter how painful or insignificant it seemed at the time, had to happen. All of it converged towards one pivotal moment—a moment standing at Cade’s shoulder in front of more than 30 people, which would forever alter the trajectory of our lives. This was not just about my or Cade’s personal ‘becoming’; it was about to be one of the greatest answers to a prayer I had voiced as a little girl, a longing for purpose that echoed from my deepest self.

From Childhood Dreams to Life’s Grand Design: A Journey of Self-Discovery

Being home with our newborn, nestled in the quietude of new motherhood, spurred an intense period of reflection. My childhood, a mosaic of highs and lows, often felt dominated by the latter. My family loved me unconditionally, and I excelled in school, yet amongst my peers, I felt an enduring sense of invisibility and misunderstanding. Simple memories, like eating lunch alone in high school, served as stark reminders of this period.

I believed myself to be a fun-loving girl, eager to laugh and be silly, always ready for adventure. However, the pervasive feeling of not being accepted by my peers pushed me into a deepening depression that escalated with each passing year. It’s a story for another time, but its roots ran deep. Just a few weeks prior, when asked on social media about my high school self, the answer came instinctively: I was broken. I felt utterly uncared for, friendless, convinced that I didn’t matter and had nothing of true value to offer the world.

Yet, deep within that brokenness, I white-knuckled onto a fundamental truth my parents had instilled in me: “You are a daughter of God, and THAT is enough.” This profound statement served as my lifeline, a quiet but powerful assurance in a world that often felt devoid of affirmation. As a little girl, I would pray incessantly, pleading that one day I could matter to someone, that I could find a purpose that resonated beyond my perceived shortcomings. I distinctly remember praying, “Let me help bring light even in a small way. Let me help with thy work, please, I just want to be a part of it!” I don’t fully understand why this desire was so crucial to my young heart, but trials have a way of obscuring our deepest aspirations.

Transformative Trials: Lessons Learned from Life’s Hardest Moments

It was much later that I recognized the errors in my high school perspective. I hadn’t lacked friends; rather, I had lacked the understanding of how to *be* a friend. My preoccupation with what I perceived as my deficiencies blinded me to the gifts and qualities I had to offer others. This realization was a turning point. Walking downstairs one day, a profound thought crystallized in my mind: for years, my prayers had been focused on being saved from trials, on *my* improvement, on *my* needs. But I was done with that self-centered approach.

I yearned to live by a newly embraced truth: life is defined by what I choose to see, what I choose to do, and who I choose to love, all without expectation of anything in return. This shift in perspective fundamentally reshaped my understanding of suffering and purpose. Each trial, once a source of anguish, transformed into a profound teacher:

• Being lonely taught me the invaluable lesson of how to genuinely *be a friend*, fostering a deeper empathy for others experiencing isolation. For that transformative insight, I am eternally grateful.
• Being broken in spirit and emotion instilled in me a powerful desire to mend the weak and weary, recognizing their pain as an echo of my own past struggles.
• Being poor and experiencing financial scarcity taught me to retain a profound sense of self-worth independent of material possessions. It also revealed how little we truly need to achieve happiness, demonstrating that genuine joy often springs from the act of giving, even when one feels they have nothing left to offer.
• Being sick, particularly through the debilitating experience of hyperemesis gravidarum, taught me everything. It opened my eyes to the fragility of life, the resilience of the human spirit, and the interconnectedness of mind, body, and spirit. It was as if I was given new eyes to see the world, and my place within it, with unprecedented clarity.

Sometimes, the greatest blessings arrive disguised as the most unexpected, shocking trials. What came next would prove to be the most incredible miracle I had witnessed in my 35 years of life, intertwining all these lessons into a tapestry of purpose.

The Cookbook Calling: An Unexpected Path to Healing and Connection

Months prior, even as I battled the severe nausea and exhaustion of hyperemesis gravidarum, Cade and I had been approached with a proposition: the possibility of writing a cookbook. For years, we had politely declined such offers, but this time, something felt different. Despite being in the worst physical state to even contemplate food, and with Cade unable to manage the extensive photography requirements on his own, we made an unconventional decision. We did what any normal couple navigating such profound trials would do. We said yes.

Once our little guy was born and the immediate crisis of his jaundice subsided, we plunged headfirst into “cookbook mode.” Contracts were signed, and the exhilarating, yet daunting, process of developing and refining new recipes began in earnest. I distinctly remember vowing that we would never undertake another cookbook. The sheer investment of time, energy, stress, and work felt unreal, especially coming off a major household move just two months prior and the lingering effects of being sicker than sick with HG just weeks earlier. It was an immense undertaking, but surprisingly, it became an amazing family endeavor.

Our children, with stars in their eyes and wide grins across their faces, love to recount the stories from those days. They vividly recall how I would photograph countless desserts, and by dinner time, exhausted but happy, I’d declare, “Have at it!” We’d then gather around, devouring eight different desserts, making ourselves delightfully sick with laughter and sweet indulgence. These moments, born from a period of intense work and challenges, became cherished family memories, testaments to joy found even in the busiest of times.

Beyond Recipes: Sharing Our Story and the Heart of Family Connection

As the cookbook’s release date drew near, Cade and I received an invitation to present our work to the entire Deseret Book team. This involved not only sharing recipes but also participating in a Q&A session designed to help everyone get to know us better, thereby aiding in the book’s promotion. The pressure was immense. We stressed, sweated, and slaved in the kitchen, meticulously preparing small samples of our creations, even crafting bite-sized Nutella crepes to showcase our culinary passion.

The day arrived. There we stood, facing a sea of eager faces, ready to talk about our recipes. But something entirely unexpected happened. When someone inquired about our true intent with the cookbook, Cade and I found ourselves doing something unplanned: we started sharing our story. Tears welled up and streamed down our faces as we recounted the two years of relentless unemployment, the complete absence of savings, and the sheer desperation to survive multiple debilitating HG pregnancies. We spoke of our sweet baby boy, present in the back of the room, a living testament to the miracles we had experienced.

And remarkably, they cried with us. Together, in that room, a profound connection was forged. It wasn’t a sob story; it was a narrative of unwavering faith, of triumph over overwhelming adversity, but to us, it was simply *our* story. So, what did we truly want to achieve with this cookbook, beyond the recipes themselves? Our most profound desire was to remind families everywhere that it’s never truly about the food itself, but about the loving hands that created it, the hearts that shared it, and the connections fostered around the table. It’s about building memories, overcoming challenges, and embracing the profound purpose found in our shared human experience.