The Naked Truth

Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Becca boomed:
Are your boobs real or fake? They look real, but every now and then they are a little too perky for your two baby history? Do tell.....

Ok, guys. Let the truth be known: My boobs are the real deal. I have no perky idea what Becca is talking about. But I love her for asking. Perhaps its just a combination of a good bra ($5 Calvin Klein at Ross), good posture, and pumping iron. I was well endowed my whole life (I was a size C cup as a baby--just kidding) whole adult life. And I didn't appreciate it. As a dancer and gymnast I wanted to get rid of the darn things. I now see I wasted all those bounteous buxom years with unnecessary worry.

Kristine commented:

My loss was no where near your loss of Lucy, but it was still terrifying and has changed me for the better and worse. My little girl almost died from Meningitis when she was 3 weeks old and now has to deal with a brain injury.

I'm sure I'm still traumatized by the whole experience and went from being a fairly relaxed and laid back person to a bundle of anxiety. I have developed a profound fear of her getting hurt, choking, banging her head, you name it. I now feel like I could lose her to the smallest thing.

Excuse my rambling writing, I'm just trying to spit out.

I realized that I felt this way a few weeks ago and thought of you, your strength, what happened to sweet Lucy and how you're able to be such a great mom to Peter. HOW have you been able to relax and enjoy your time with him after what happened to Lucy? Do you worry like I do?

I hate the idea of depriving my little girl of a mom who can live in the moment instead of being worried about what could happen.


I wouldn't say your loss is nowhere near mine. It is very near mine. Your loss is very real and very difficult. And more importantly, it is yours. It is YOUR LOSS. That's just as important as anyone else's. As I've blogged about before, and firmly believe, there is no imaginary Richter scale of survival. Yes, a child leaving mortality is very finite and temporally permanent, but your loss and pain are every bit as real as mine. I can't imagine going through what you went through, and continue to go through. Does that sound funny coming from me? But its true...I CAN'T IMAGINE IT. Just as many cannot imagine losing a child. We all have our lives and our struggles and its hard to imagine ourselves in someone else's circumstances. But I think taking the time to mentally go there, and put ourselves in their lives, blesses us as well as them. Even though it is painful. We have to do it. We have to connect with our brothers and sisters. We can't live in that spot, but we can go there and have our hearts taught and softened. We cannot turn away. You are a survivor to be doing what you are doing. Your story reminds me of the latest post on Good Grief. Did you read it?

That being said, I can understand your constant worry and anxiety. During the first few weeks of Peter's life I was an anxious mess. I remember walking into "Vic's room" (he was banned to the guest room for a few months so I could try and sleep better and take care of the night feedings) and blubbering, "He's going to die. He's going to die in his sleep. He's so small and helpless. Lucy died and there is nothing to stop Peter from dying. I can't do this." Vic looked up from his book and said, "Honey, if Heavenly Father wants to take Peter home there is nothing we can do about it." I looked right at him and said in my postpartum exhaustion, "You're right. Good night."

And that became a turning point for me. I just had to give up the fight. God is in control and there is only so much I can do. Sometimes the hardest part of love is the letting go. I have to make that decision over and over again. Both with Peter and Lucy. Of course we have to be careful, of course we have to be cautious and aware. But we have to live.

I confess I have a mini heart attack anytime Peter slightly chokes on his food. Vic has confessed to not even enjoying feeding Peter solid food whatsoever. It is not easy. And of course, there is SO much more that goes on than the small snippet of life you see on the blog. But overall, I do enjoy my time with Peter. We will see how things change as he gets older. I have to trust. I have to let go. I have to live. I hope you can find the balance with your sweet daughter. I love you!

Shara asked:
2. Are you looking to buy or build and in Park City?

A change of gears here for a second.
We are looking to buy. We are in the process of a deal right now. I can't discuss the details, but we're excited.

Sheila shyly shared:
Did you have your dance party? I did!

Sheila, my faithful commenter! I dance for Peter all the time...but we didn't have an official party! And we didn't record anything. Shame on me! I did have a few readers share their dance party videos and photos with me. Just for you I will do it this week. Until then, enjoy this video of my brother and I at an arcade in Newport, Rhode Island. I was pregnant with Peter and Vic and I crashed his honeymoon.

*side note--some of you sent me links to videos and one reader sent a link to photos on their blog. I can't find them!!

Katie inquired:
I think of you whenever I get out an apple to cut. I hope this isn't offensive. Does it scare you to let Peter cut apples? I would be lying if I said I haven't laid off giving them to my baby because of your story. I just wondered if my worry was warranted, or if you think it was going to happen no matter what, whether it was an apple or something else. I'm typically not a worrier, but for some reason I always hesitate when passing out the apples.

I sound like an idiot but I don't know how to phrase that better.

Not an idiot.
I am glad you think of me (Lucy) every time you cut apples. I want her to be remembered. And I do think your worry is warranted. Apples, carrots, grapes, hot dogs, popcorn--(and a myriad of other foods) are high risk choking foods. (Though, I've never seen apples on the list when you research this). Vic and several others on the scene, firmly believe, and have had it confirmed to them in one way or another, that it was "meant to be." That it was Lucy's time to go. So yes, I suppose if it wasn't an apple, it would have been something else. I still struggle with this and often ponder, question, pray, and meditate on these things. Again, its the letting go and accepting. I would hope that as you carefully and lovingly share the apples that you will happily remember Lucy. I am not to that point yet, but someday I hope to look at an apple and smile. Not because she is dead, but because all that this has taught me and all the good that it symbolizes. That good part is what I am constantly trying to find.

And no, I don't give a knife to Peter to let him cut apples. :) I don't think I'll let him have apple slices until he's about three.

Sarah wondered:

Is your Lucy's bench in the Salt Lake Cemetery?I would be interested to hear about your added fears and anxieties -- if there are any. I find myself quite a bundle of anxiety since our daughter passed away 5 1/2 years ago, and especially having to do with our two boys. Aside from the waves of grief, it has been one of the hardest things to endure. I'm sorry to read your boy has been sick.

Yes, Sarah--her bench is in the Salt Lake Cemetery in the avenues. It is in the most beautiful spot. Right near George Albert Smith and several church leaders. Vic and I joke that it will be quite the sight on ressurrection morning. We'll be holding onto Lucy's coat tails in that company. We actually drove through that cemetery on an impromptu drive Easter weekend, 4 weeks before she passed away.
Some of our good friends picked the spot. Because Lucy died Memorial Day weekend, we were on a time crunch to pick the spot. Its a long story, but they went with a prayer in their heart and picked the perfect spot for our daughter, and Vic and I, to be laid to rest.

I do have added fears and anxieties, as mentioned earlier. This past week, Peter had RSV, and I had moments of intense fear. But I knew in my heart that he was going to be alright. I must say, I find myself worrying more (it was the same way with Lucy) about his spiritual well-being than his physical safety. During his sickness last week I somehow got all worked up about him being a teenager and viewing pornography. It gave me more anxiety than him struggling for oxygen in the room next door.
I am a worrier.
But I'm also a warrior.
And I want to enjoy life.

Interesting that worrier and warrior are so similar. The same with the words
Daughter &
Just one letter difference.


  1. Dear Miss Molly,

    YOU are amazing. YOU didn't even hesitate to give the honest answers.

    Until I was a Mother I didn't understand the constant worry for the well-being of children. For me it is all children. I took a header down the hill and into the road... skidding on the asphalt and in front of a car because I thought my nephew wasn't going to stop. He did. I didn't. I was an injured mess.

    I think it is better to be cautious than to think we or our children are un-touchable. Accidents happen.

    Even as a Grammy I worry... maybe way too much. I drive my kids with kids crazy.

    Glad to hear that the boobs are real. I am really not into fake. Not sure what I would do if I had to lose mine to breast cancer like my Mom... my hubby says that I would have reconstructive surgery... he is wrong on that one. He has kept me from a prophylactic double mastectomy.

    I loved the DDR video... it made me want to have my very own. It looked fun. Everything can be more fun with great friends.

    I hope you are having an awesome week. I am so glad Peter is doing better.


  2. I thought so. I love the SL Cemetery. It's where my Lucy is, too. Her funeral was at the church right there on 4th Avenue. Following the service, everyone walked up the street for her grave dedication. What a perfect setting.

    I know what you mean about the spiritual worry. It's a scary world. I don't know if you feel the same way, but there is sometimes comfort in knowing one of my children is safe from the worries of the world.

  3. Interesting and insightful post.

    I too worry and have always been a worrier by nature. I usually try and see down the road of whatever is current in my life and imagine the worst case scenario and then do everything in my power to be the furthest away from that situation. For example, we're going on vacay in a couple weeks. On a cruise and I'm suddenly very nervous about being around all the water with my toddler--not necessarily the fact that we're in a big boat in the ocean, but the swimming poos, the beaches when we dock, etc. The first couple of nights we're staying at some sort of condo/resort where we hae our own indoor pool and I'm already nervous about the whole thing. All it takes is someone forgetting to shut the door and a kid {there will be several youngin's} walking in when no one notices. But I feel like I'm the only one who thinks about this--at least out of our family!

    And I have to say that since knowing you and reading your blog, I'm much more aware of the possibility of death--particularly of my child{ren}. I have often thought "I'm no different than Molly. I have no more claim or right on my daughter's life than anyone who has or hasn't lost a child." Even though, in my mind it seems "impossible." So I too find myself hesitant when giving my girl apples--even today I thought about it, and in general I don't let her eat alone--or at least hardly ever. If I'm in the shower and she's watching TV, I don't let her have a snack during that time. When she's eating and being the silly toddler she is, I tell her to calm down and chew her food.

    BUT, I agree....there's only so much we can do. And I've tried to keep that in perspective. It's hard.

  4. I was an intense worrier from the moment I got pregnant and thought I'd miscarry again. Reading about your grieving process has taught me that I can survive too if my worst worries came true for my daughter. I enjoy life with her more now because you taught me that it is survivable and that if God wants to take her home, "there is nothing we can do." Love your family.

  5. I loved reading this! I completely agree with your strong husband when he said if it's the Lord's will then we can't do anything about it. It's amazing how much he knows us.

    My step-sister lives across the street from the cemetary in the avenues. How amazing that she is buried there with so many wonderful people from our church.

    Thanks for being so candid, my boobies were a DD until I had my 3 kids now they are a B :) not really sure what happened to them but my husband doesn't like it one bit!

  6. Thank You...I will sleep a little better tonight knowing the truth.
    Lucky Lucky girl.

  7. Lucky that I look good fully padded and clothed? Ask Vic for the naked truth!


  8. So inspiring the way you and Vic face life head on. I worry too, every time I give my little ones an apple and then I think like Vic does. It is out of my hands. I think that has to be one of the hardest things in life to do is let go! I am often reminded that we give the Lord our worries and then take them right back sometimes. Dang we humans are slow learners.I am always so excited to see your blog on my Google Reader:)

  9. I had the same problem with my boobs. Wanted a reduction when I was in junior high, and now I so wish I had enjoyed them more:).

    I appreciate your honesty. I like thinking of "lovingly" sharing apples instead of being nervous about it. It's a new concept to think that preparing my children's food is another way to love them. I need to remember that, because I hate making meals.

    And yes, I obviously did not think that Peter would be able to cut apples. I should probably learn to proofread before I hit post. But even now, I won't do that:).

  10. Great answers!! I think you meant me in reference to the dance party!! I have yet to send my photo from our frolic around my family room! Love the video of Dance Revolution... who doesn't love that game??

    My little grandson is battling some issues with his bones right now and his mother is a worrier... love you analogy with words. My Bridget is a warrior, from fears while pregnant, to giving birth and watching her little baby go through so much with severe club feet, to having genetic testing for some serious disorders done and praying for answers. Cayden has broken another bone (3 in 19 months) just as he was finally learning to walk. But that baby boy is just full of happiness and joy!!

    Hope Peter is feeling better... spring can't come fast enough!

  11. Molly, I just think you're amazing. You make me feel empowered as a mother and a woman. Thanks for being so honest.

  12. Oh dear--how about those of us that weren't even very big before we had children. In that position you think, "there is no way they could get smaller," but sure enough you have a kid and they do ;) ha ha, I laugh about husband on the other hand does not :)
    Great post, Molly, with some great answers. I'm a better person and a better mommy for knowing you! And on a side would think that being a trained dancer that it would help me at DDR, but I am truly pathetic at it. You on the other hand had your dance skills transfer through. :)

  13. Ok, I am officially hooked. I am not a random person blog follower. About a week ago I happened to click on your blog from Britany's blog (you were the most recent updater, I swear I am not a stalker). I started reading and I could not stop. Maybe I found your blog for a reason? The next day I challenged myself to play with my daughter for 45 minutes strait with out getting side tracked on adult stuff. We went for an hour and a half. I thanked you.

    I have a daughter that is 2 years and 4 months. Needless to say when I read your story I got over the top emotional. You are a wonderful writer, you have a true gift.

    Over the weekend when my friend was giving our children pieces of apple I started getting very anxious. "Lot's of bites Sophia", I must have said that at least 5 times to her. Thanks for your thoughts on this....

    Last, I appreciate your humor, we would be good friends (if I still lived in Utah). Silly, silly personality - great ugly faces, blogging about your boobs, dance party challenges.

    Bottom line, thank you for your positive outlook on life!

  14. Molly - what a blessing you are to so many people that you don't even know. Thank you for your positive outlook and your willingness to allow others into your life.

  15. Perhaps it is so easy to be honest with you, since you are so honest. You have such a beautiful spirit. Thanks! p.s.- try nursing a few babies for a yr. each, and then see if your perky's are still perky. This would be my ugly truth. They were just a refill. A refill is different than having to buy a new cup.

  16. That video make me smile so big. Although I have witnessed you get your groove on-I have never seen Bice gettn' jiggy. Nice.
    Who won?

  17. Miss Molly,
    First time posting but I love your site.

    I heard a song today that made me think of your sweet Lucy and made me think about us moms that worry so much.

    It is by Katie Herzig "Wish you Well"

    It can be taken in many differnt ways but I think of how your Lucy has taught so many people how to live.

  18. Thank you so much Molly.

    Your blog has been such an amazing blessing for me. It was the first blog I ever read. I stumbled across it while Katie was still very, very sick...on life support. I was overcome with grief and feeling your strength through your words made such a difference.

    Lucy is such a beautiful little girl. I remember sobbing when you posted the photos of her while she was intubated. We have an almost identical photo of me holding Katie on her hospital bed.

    Thank you so much for your honest answer. I find that most of my girlfriends, although fabulous, just can't understand why I'm still traumatized by what happened to Katie. I feel like a very different person now. Yes, a more anxious person, but I've also never been more grateful for all that I have. I appreciate all of Katie's little gains and I'm just so blessed that she's here with us. I don't take ANY of it for granted.

    I love you too girl!!

    PS: I DID read the latest on Good Grief. It was an amazing story and I must go back and leave her a comment.

  19. Thank you again for reassuring me, and validating the feelings of fear, guilt, anxiety, that come with loss. Some times I forget and then I remember to look at your blog, and I know that I am not crazy and that things will get better with time.

  20. Hey Molly - I'm Bridget. I'm Diana...aka Meme's daughter. I'll admit I'm one of your many silent stalkers (until now I guess). I often read a single post and feel every sort of emotion from deep sadness to the utmost inspiration/admiration. You're so candid and REAL, and you teach and inspire so many people. We all have our OWN struggles, some that seem so huge to us that might not to others. But you're right, they are our OWN. You help me to embrace them and grow thanks...

  21. I love the worrier/warrior and daughter/laughter. Thanks

  22. I still struggle with bacon too, although that is something that is more of an optional food item that isn't bad to not have, even just for health! It's funny, but most of the stories that I've heard of first hand with choking are never the things they warn you about; they are all random things I wouldn't have thought about! I also agree with your hubby and have often had to tell myself that if one of my other kids are meant to go, they will, no matter what I do, which has helped me not be so overprotective of them and not die of a heart attack from worrying!

  23. You are very right about that grandfather is buried there as well and I do ponder what the resurrection will be like there. pretty cool! You look amazing molly! LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the pic of you flexing your bisep. you look so healthy and strong. i admire you in a way that cannot be explained...your son is ADORABLE! His name is perfect. Thank you for being able to share this experience with the rest of us. much, much love to you from an old L.A. friend xoxoxo


Powered by Blogger.