I still remember the day I stood in my bedroom in my old house. I can see it all so clearly. I had pulled the elegant white blessing dress from the closet with the intentions of taking it back. It was after Corbin had passed away and there was no sense in keeping it now. I had bought the dress thinking he was going to be a girl. Now there I stood in my bedroom, a mother with empty arms and no baby to wear anything.
The dress was beautiful, long and flowing with delicate lace streaming everywhere. It had satin piping lining the bodice, the sleeves and the hem of the ruffle. A little pink bow dotted the center of the bodice. My heart wrenched in pain as I stood there feeling hallow. I held the dress up in disbelief. Everything felt so dismal standing there looking at it next to an empty cradle at the foot of my bed.
I sat down and I started to cry. Everything hurt inside me and I just sat there trying to gather the courage to think of what I was going to say when I walked into the store to return it. As I sat there in all my agony, that's when the spirit started to swirl all around me, a funny feeling started to come over me and that's when I heard it.
It was audible. I could clearly hear the quiet yet firm voice inside my mind. It was pronounced. Not like normal thoughts that weave in and out. It was clear, and it came like a gentle order, or a heavily weighted suggestion, maybe even with some urgency. As the voice spoke to me, some part of me knew it. I recognized it from somewhere back in time. The voice penetrated my frame of thinking. And then I clearly heard each word, "Don't take the dress back! You will have a daughter born to you that will wear the dress."
Some events in my life are difficult to explain. To tell someone what happened to me that day standing in my bedroom and in other days to follow, cannot be appreciated in any depth or merit by any human listening ear. They were events that were spiritually discerned and to try to give light to them by some earthly explanation is rather impossible. Life is spiritual! My Heavenly Father is present in my life. My Savior is present. The Holy spirit is always slipping in and out of my life. And while I feel inept at stumbling to explain the unexplainable, I do not lack confidence in what I experienced that day. I knew what I heard. I knew it was real. I knew it was true and my frame of being held no lack of faith as I took the dress and gently hung it back in the closet. As I did so, I felt the grief inside my soul lift.
I don't remember the time frame. But time passed and the thoughts that impacted me that day stayed with me. As the pain of losing a child subsided and the time grew near for me to think about having another baby, I always thought about the dress. It was ever present in my mind. When I gave birth to Gage, another boy, I remember thinking my Father in Heaven was toying with me. When I gave birth to Kelson, my seventh child, and fifth boy, I just shook my head heavenward. I was not consumed with doubt in the words I had heard so long ago standing in my bedroom. I just wondered if I had the stamina to follow through with my original plan in having 8 kids.
From the first day I got hooked on that old silly television show "Eight Is Enough," I decided way back then, when I didn't know anything and lived life in a youthful clueless state, I was going to have 8 kids. Man With A Drill just wanted to know why in the world I wanted 8 kids? He also let me know after every baby we didn't have to follow through. He tried to convince me we could stop at anytime. But after each one of our children were born, I still wanted more. I know it sounds crazy, but I wanted to fill up my life with people to love, and people who would love me back! I am just thankful I managed to get Man With A Drill to go along with the idea. Man With A Drill by the way, is a marshmallow!
Nearly five years went by after Goose (Kelson) was born. Seven kids is a lot to handle. I was leaning heavily towards calling it quits when the nagging started in. Yes, I'm telling you serious nagging! The spirit just kept hounding me. It rivaled myself when I am nagging Man With A Drill. It was relentless.
One day I found myself back in my bedroom. The same place I had heard the spirit's instructions with the dress. I should have known to stay out of that room. But this day I was cleaning and I was in no mood to hear voices. Still I was down on my knees (a bad place to be) cleaning under my bed when I pulled out a box. As I lifted the lid I saw the beautiful porcelain doll. I had nearly forgotten about it. It was pretty to look at and hold. It had brown hair and brown eyes just like me.
I thought back to the time I had made the doll. I had taken a class in porcelain doll making from a lady that lived here in my town. I also made three other dolls besides mine. Two for my girls and one for my mom. I had made each doll to look like the person it was being given to. Emilyn's had pretty green eyes, Kaedell's had beautiful blue eyes. The dolls I had made for my mother and I looked identical, both with brown eyes and brown hair.
As I held the doll in my hand reminiscing over how it came to be, that same voice I had heard long ago came back to me. The same feelings came over me. That same spirit began to settle in all around me. I started to get nervous when all the feelings I had experienced before started to return. Then I heard it, that voice, that all familiar voice. It spoke softly, "That doll is not for you," it whispered. "You will have a daughter. She will have brown eyes and brown hair. . . that doll is for her."
I got a little bolder this time, after I heard the voice. I questioned back, "What about me? I made that doll for me."
I know exactly what you are thinking, shake your head if you will, but I really liked my doll! And it gave me a chance to see if I was crazy or if I was really being instructed. So I questioned it back. I trust in this voice. I am familiar with it. I was not afraid to question it.
I should have been surprised when more instructions came, but I wasn't. The voice reasoned with me. "You will have the doll you gave your mother when she passes." That was all it said. After the voice left me, the spirit dissipated and I was left on my knees in a heap.
The tears started to push outward when I started to comprehend what I had experienced. My heart knew it to be true. I could not argue any further. I put the lid back on the box. In the beginning when I pulled the box from under my bed, I was going to put the doll out in my room and display her, now back in the box she went. As I left the room, I had numerous feelings to deal with, feelings of being overwhelmed and of not really wanting another baby.
The days and weeks continued. I started praying over all of this. That was a mistake! Don't pray about things you really want an answer to, because you'll get one! The praying just increased the spirit's continual nagging. And the promptings. . . they just kept coming, and all of it just pressed in on me.
I think the spirit grew tired. The last prominent event that turned the tides happened one day not long after the incident with the doll. It was the middle of the week and I had just gathered the mail. I sat down at the counter and started going through the pile of bills and advertisements. Under it all sat a magazine. It was a porcelain doll magazine advertising many beautiful handmade dolls that could be purchased. The odd thing was, I had never received a magazine like that in my life. I didn't sign up for it. I had no clue as to where it came from. And after that day, I never received another one.
I pulled it from the pile to look at it closer. On the front cover was a beautiful porcelain doll. I noticed she had a name. It was a pretty name clearly printed beneath her. The name was spelled a little different but I liked it. Her name was, "DESEREY,"
I often complain about being an idiot. I know I'm an idiot because that day I stood right up from sitting there on my nice comfortable bar stool and like a bafoon and with not so much as an inkling of what I was about to do, I took the magazine and casually strolled right into my bedroom! Of all places to go with that magazine. I should have seen the train coming! I did not!
When I got into my bedroom, I rummaged through my drawer to find my well used name book. Something pushed me to know what the name meant. After seven kids the pages were practically worn out. I got my money's worth out of that book and I knew it that day as I went flipping through the pages.
I turned to the section with girl names as fast as I could. Then I started to sift through the "Ds" until my eyes fell upon the name, "Desiree'." As I read the meaning printed there the spirit literally engulfed me in such a way I cannot even attempt to give description. I needed my bed under me fast as I read the meaning over and over again. I sat down hard on it, the name book clutched in my hands.
The meaning:
~DESIREE'~
~Desired~
~ Longed For~
~A Daughter Fulfilled~
So, of all things, after all of the promptings,
I felt impressed to put it to a family vote.
I wanted everyone united in the choice.
Maybe it was my last ditch effort to get out of having another baby.
Although I don't think so.
No not at all.
It was Providence.
It was a chance to bring everyone on board.
I wanted everyone to want her.
In my heart,
I knew how they would vote!
This is the child that would ultimately close our circle of love.
So, one family night,
I scribbled the choice, on a piece of paper.
One more child. . . yes or no?
And so the voting began.
This night I would gain support in my spiritual instruction.
The kids sat in a circle.
They were so excited.
I told them what it meant as I sent the paper around.
One more mouth to feed,
One more person to share everything in life with.
I set up all the implications.
I did not tell them of my conversations with the spirit.
I wanted them to freely make up their own minds.
The voting was held in strict secrecy so they could be honest.
No one would see how they voted.
Kelson was the last one to get the paper.
He got up from his spot on the floor.
He walked up to me.
I forgot he couldn't read yet.
He took his hands and held them to my ear.
Then he whispered softly to me,
"Mom, which one says yes?"
I still remember him taking his pencil
and putting a small X by the box.
His crooked scratches on paper confirmed his ultimate positive desire.
He had a big grin on his face!
When the paper came back
and we announced the tally,
There was one lone decenter in the group.
One person who had voted "No."
We all knew the culprit.
As I read the results,
every one glared at Man With A Drill.
He knew the gig was up when the kids all started giving him a hard time.
"Dad, I can't believe you voted no."
They all hammered on him.
"Well, we don't have enough seat belts."
Was his pathetic cry to save his wallet!
After Des was born she would cry when Man With A Drill would hold her.
I use to taunt him relentlessly,
"She, knows you voted no,"
He has never lived that down.
After that, he brought her an all day sucker home from work every night.
He was trying to win her affections with sugar.
He succeeded!
A daughter fulfilled!
Yup!
That's what the name book said.
Everyone was there as she entered the world.
One husband, and seven kids.
We had a pizza party in my hospital room.
She was blessed in that beautiful white blessing dress.
Purchased for her brother Corbin.
She carries the name, "Deserey."
Spelled identically to the magazine that came in the mail.
And on her bed today, sits a porcelain doll.
A beautiful porcelain doll with brown hair and brown eyes.
She's our caboose,
#8.
A testiment to the spirit and my Father In Heaven's love
for me on a day I was filled with grief!
She is part of the great plan God has for me and my family.
I'm so thankful I listened to the voice!
Gratitude overwhelms me!
From day one,
She has been and 'is' a complete JOY,
She cements us together
and is living proof of what mass amounts of love can produce.
Happy Birthday Deserey!
We all love you so much!
You came along and completed our family.
I can't believe today you are 18.
I love you so much!
Now.
if you will all excuse me,
I think I'll sit and cry a while.
My baby is all grown up!
I'm going to miss her being little.
And like her dad always says,
She really is beautiful, clear through!
Happy 18 big ones Scout!
You were Heaven sent!
A beautiful gift from God!
Squeeeeeze!!!
