Ryan first came to visit me when I was expecting Nathan.  At first he was very quiet and always standing in the background.  Once he realized that I really wanted him, he visibly relaxed.  About a year after Nathan was born, Neil gave me a blessing.  The Lord told me that if I was to have the next child, I had to be willing to have him the way the Lord directed.  If I couldn’t do that, then he would go to another family.  Of course I wanted this child!  I had seen him.  He was mine and I already loved him.  Even if I had not seen him, I would want any child that came.  Still, before that blessing ended, the Lord gave me a serious command to not decide right now but to study it out and really know my heart before I committed.

I spent nearly six months doing just that.  I never wavered in my heart's commitment to have this son.  However, I did place before me all of the possibilities for grief and trial imaginable.  I understood that with Marshall coming to us and dying, if I was being challenged it must be because this would be even more serious.  How could anything be more serious than a baby dying?

With that question foremost in my mind, I concluded that the worst possible event would be a premature birth.  That would mean a hospital birth.  To top it off would be a C-section followed by my baby's death.  There was nothing that I could see as a problem in pregnancy as all of my pregnancies had been healthy except the prematurity issue.  My midwife was skilled in both twin and breech deliveries so that didn't rule out a natural birth, possibly at home.  I resolved to face this possible heartbreak.

I felt both an agony of grief and a great joy in believing I had overcome this hurdle.  Deeply wanting my son, I went to the Lord and committed myself.  However, in prayer I pleaded with him to allow me a normal pregnancy, allow me to not know of the problem until it was necessary.  I deeply wanted the joy I feel when pregnant to be uninhibited.  I came up from my knees knowing that the Lord had accepted my request.

I then sought Neil and asked that he give me another blessing.  As he laid his hands upon my head, the Spirit poured through me.  The Lord told me that I had needed to go through that painful process.  It did not mean that such events imagined would necessarily happen, only that I needed to consider and commit.

Because of my birthing patterns I anticipate becoming pregnant again sometime after my baby's first birthday and before that baby turns eighteen months.  I had known before we married, that if I was to have all the children the Lord wanted for me, then I must not artificially control my conceptions.  Still, I anticipate their arrival based upon the previous babies.

So when month after month went by and there was no Ryan beginning within me, I became concerned.  I was worried that I had somehow failed the test and he was going to be missing from my life.  In both prayer and blessings the Lord assured me that all was well and that I would have all the children he had assigned to be mine.  Still, the worry persisted and still he did not begin his journey.

One day while praying in our room I saw my dear son.  He entered bursting with excitement.  He tried to be calm and dignified but he could not conceal a thrilling energy.  He told me that he had just graduated!  He had been attending what came to my mind as the equivalent to the School of the Prophets.  He told me that Nathan had been his tutor but that Nathan had left before he had finished.  He let me know that he was concerned that he would never finish in time and then someone else came and took over his tutoring.

Now he was finished and ready to come.  He stood in front of me and told me that he was bringing with him three things.  He was bringing a return of my health.  He was bringing the keys to financial independence for our family.  The third thing has always been difficult to explain.  It was a power, a priesthood and family power.  By virtue of the very quantity of individuals now in our home that the Lord would increase that elusive quality more than we had experienced before or could have experienced without Ryan.  Ryan's love for me was tremendous and I was thrilled to know that he would be coming soon.  Soon is a relative term and it didn't happen right away.

 When I did become pregnant, it was a very different pregnancy indeed.  From the very beginning my physical reaction was at odds from the other six pregnancies.  Before I had fainted but it was funny rather than disturbing.  This time I would feel the blackness of unconsciousness come over me and accompanied with it was a tremendous terror.  I had to be very careful about eating frequently and about what I should not eat to avoid the sensation.  I fainted on my bed trying to land on a soft spot.  On the Fourth of July I went with my family to the Ward Picnic and became terrified as that thick darkness started to overcome me.

I would talk to Lynn, my midwife friend, and tell her that I didn't know if my baby would live.  When I saw my regular midwife, things seemed ok and yet everything felt wrong.  Even her reaction to me was different and in the end we saw her fewer times than was wise.  I started premature dilation by the 16th week and had to go down on bed rest.

Marina had just moved out and again I was alone when I needed help.  My children were older as Chani was 10 and we managed but it was very difficult emotionally to let go of my responsibilities.

I saw my obstetrician.  He was a highly skilled doctor, respected in his field.  He had been my doctor for Chiya and Nathan's pregnancy.  He checked me over and found all to be healthy and that I could go ahead with my plans for a home birth.  I asked him about the baby as I thought I was feeling the head up under my diaphragm.  He checked me and said that the baby was head down and all was fine.

I saw my midwife.  She was the same one who delivered Chiya and Nathan and when I told her that I thought the baby was a breech, she agreed with the doctor that the baby was head down.  All seemed fine and yet I was persistently concerned.
Another worry was that I was getting older and society had caused us to believe that children born to older women were frequently Down's Syndrome.  I refused any testing, as I would not get an amnio should the test come out positive.  I was not willing to impose the risks upon my baby just to determine the condition.  I would never abort a little child for any reason.  Still, the worry was always present as I wondered what might be wrong.

The hardest part of the pregnancy was the celestial silence.  I would kneel in prayer, sometimes very mighty prayer, only to have the distinct impression that there were things the Lord wanted to tell me but wouldn't.  I knew without doubt that the silence was not caused by unrepented sin.  Still, the silence continued.  Beginning about half way through the pregnancy, whenever I knelt in prayer I would see Ryan standing near me.  He was always there, always supportive and always silent.  He never spoke a single word.

I did get the impression, which grew stronger each week, that it was not yet determined if his mission would be in this life or if his mission would be as Marshall's and solely in the spirit world.  There was no indication from him about which he preferred or which it would be.  There was only that tragic knowledge that the decision still laid ahead.

Neil gave me several blessings.  They were strange as well.  Neil would place his hands upon my head and begin with a few words of comfort and encouragement and then stop.  He would wait and then end the blessings.  He would tell me afterwards that he felt that I was loved and fully in good standing with the Lord. He would then say that he felt there was much the Lord wanted me to know but that he wasn’t letting the information come.

I finally realized that this was the fulfillment of the agreement between the Lord and me when I asked to have all be normal until the problem had to be revealed.  I realized that I had limited the Lord's ability to give me information!  I had put a stop on revelation in this matter.  I went back to him and tried to rewrite the arrangement but to no avail.  He kept to his agreement and the professionals involved continued to tell me that all was well and the Lord continued a tender silence concerning this son.  Ryan continued his silent support.

Revelation did not stop for me.  It only stopped concerning my sweet unborn son.  Toward the end of my pregnancy, Lynn's son was dying.  I had known this young man since he was a tiny baby.  The sadness was tremendous and the Spirit was powerful.  There were some things that happened during that time that I wish I could reveal but mainly that is the story of another family.  It is enough to say that I dearly loved Lynn and her family.  I was grateful to have been a part of her experiences.  I know things that happened during that time which was a great comfort to her and a deepening of testimony for all concerned.

Not long after the death of Lynn's son I found myself needing to ask her opinion.  Ryan’s due date had just passed.  I could not reach my midwife and she was sure everything was OK anyway.  I was becoming certain that the baby was a breech.  The feeling of impending doom was tangible by this point.  Though she had not practiced midwifery for years and even through height of grief over Jojo’s death, my dear sweet Lynn came over and carefully examined me.  She told me that my baby was head down.  We hugged and she returned home.

Two days later, Lynn called.  As she put it, the Spirit kept bothering her and for two days she had mentally gone over the feel of the baby.  She was now calling to tell me that she felt the baby was a breech.

Time stood still and raced simultaneously.  So much happened in so short a time.  We made an immediate appointment for a sonogram.  While Diane was skilled in delivering a breech baby, she would only do so if the baby were below a certain weight.  Ryan showed up as a breech and too heavy for Diane to deliver at home.  I felt such a mixture of apprehension and relief.  Here, finally, was the problem.  Now we could do something to correct it.

Neil had learned a chiropractic technique to turn breeches without any forceful moving of the baby whatsoever.  This had worked on nearly all breeches he had been in contact with for about ten years.  However, there were about three or four babies who had refused to turn, so we felt that there was a reason other than normal switching, or confused energy, that caused their breech.  The babies who turned had all done so after only a few treatments and right away Neil worked on me.

The next day Neil worked on me again and still nothing happened.  We went to another friend who was a skilled reflexologist.  He carefully tried to move the baby.  Ryan rotated to an oblique with his head at my hipbone but within a few hours I suspected that he was a full breech again.

Ryan was still a breech.  His feet were almost pushing out through the abdomen and his head was clearly up.  By now I was beginning to panic and grieve.  I saw all the formal fears coming upon me.  While he was not premature, it seemed that we were headed into a C-section.  Perhaps his death would follow.

Neil gave me a blessing.  In it the Lord promised me that He would inspire the doctor.  Following the blessing we went to the hospital to meet with our doctor.  It was Sunday night and he checked me and said that with my birthing history there would be no problem with having the baby vaginally.  He told me that if I didn't begin labor before Friday then he would induce.  He insisted upon an epidural for the delivery in case he needed to manipulate the baby.  I asked if he had delivered breeches vaginally before.  The good doctor laughed and said, "Hundreds."

Mixed feelings continued to war within me.  I had to give up the homebirth and would have to expose another baby to a drugged delivery.  He had also just given me a reprieve from the dreaded C-section.

All of the next day I felt stronger then ever that our baby would die if I went into labor.  This was a real issue because my labors are almost painless and very quick, so the birth could have happened in a moment.  I kept trying to put the feeling down as simple worry.  I cried.  I rationalized.  I was torn between what I knew about birth and myself and what was continually being pressed upon my heart.

I talked to my sister-in-law who had two babies through C-sections.  She told me that if I needed one, it was important that I put aside the fears and enjoy the birth.  She said she wished she had done that with her first birth.  She also reminded me of a blessing Neil had given me that said that the birth would be quick and pain-free.  She said that she had thought when I told her about that blessing that either the birth would be like Chiya's or it would be a C-section.

Janna had just moved in with us that day.  She was staying with us while she finished the details of their life in San Diego.  Her husband and children were already settled in Utah.  She was sitting near me when Neil came home from work.  He quietly told me that all day as he was seeing patients he kept feeling that we needed the C-section.  He then walked out of the room to help the children with something.

Silenced fell upon us as I contemplated this confirmation of what I had been feeling all day.  I turned to Janna and before either of us could say anything my spirit eyes were opened.  Instead of seeing Janna, I saw a healthy placenta with a very short cord pulled straight up from the placenta, which was hanging in midair.  I called Neil in and told him.

It was 11:00 at night when we called the doctor.  We told him that we felt we needed the C-section or our son would die.  He agreed to do it the following morning.  I believe that moment on the phone was the fulfilling of the blessing wherein the Lord would inspire the doctor.  I remembered when I told Marshall's obstetrician what I knew about my baby and pregnancy.  He had reacted out of pride and education and belittled my intuition.  Ryan's doctor, on the other hand, quietly never questioned our decision and acted immediately on our request and this lightened the load tremendously.

It was one of the hardest nights of my life.  I was absolutely certain that if I went into labor Ryan would die.  Yet, this made little sense to me because I knew it would be so fast and couldn't see what could go wrong.  I did not sleep at all that night.  I would use my Doppler to listen to Ryan's healthy heartbeat and try to get him to turn.  I prayed.  There was that terrible tender silence.
I had been given the blessing that let me know the birth would be rapid and pain-free.  Was I denying the blessings by moving ahead with the C-section?  Was it really inspiration that we needed the operation or was I giving up and doing exactly what would lead to Ryan's death?  It sounded like the birth would be just like Chiya's and that was an extremely spiritual event for me.  If only labor would start and in the rapidity of it there would be no need for the hospital birth.

Oh!  The hospital birth!  My other one led to my first son's death.  I had great joy in my home births.  I had always said that if the Lord told me that I needed to have a baby at the hospital then I would, but it would terrify me.  Now, was he telling me?  Could I do it or not?  Could I face the beast and overcome?  Would going be the wrong decision?  All night the questions and agony continued.

We dropped off the children at Yvonne's and Chamrie was so scared for me.  I told her to call Aunt Terri.  I was sure Terri would help and comfort to my little daughter.  As we drove away, I wondered how things would be when next I saw my children.

We arrived at the hospital and the nurse got me ready for the surgery.  She put in the catheter.  If I ever have to do this again I will insist that procedure be done after the epidural.  It was very painful but she told me it would only be a few minutes.  Well, at the last moment the doctor had an emergency birth and I had to wait an hour and a half longer.

Neil had to get ready for the operating room while they wheeled me in for the epidural.  I was still full of fear and dread.  I remembered Terri's words of putting the fear aside and enjoying the birth of my baby but it seemed impossible.  I had begun to wonder if my baby would be ill or deformed in any way.  Why did the birth have to be this way?

Neil leaned over to me and asked in painful wonder, "Do you feel that?"

I smiled and said that I didn't feel anything.  There was a clear tube that ran from somewhere under the drape, past my face turned toward Neil, to someplace else.  Just as I told Neil I didn't feel anything, that tube began to run red with my blood.

There was only a moment of silence and then my doctor said, "It's a boy."

Then there was silence.  I waited.  Still I waited.  Another lifetime of waiting and then with all the tears of grief inside me I whispered to Neil.  "He's not crying."

Neil looked at me and laughed and said he's not out yet!  Just then our son gave his first cry.  The nurse brought this infant who was just an ounce short of nine pounds around for me to see.  He was the most beautiful sight in the world.  He had that wonderful dark hair that I had seen in vision and he was perfect.  He was alive and perfect!

I was looking at my son and falling deeply in love with him when I heard the nurse say,  "Doctor, look at this."  I turned and that wonderful promised surprise occurred.  It was a gift of confirmation letting me know without doubt that I had followed the Spirit.  She was holding up this large placenta by one hand.  With the other hand she had pulled up the cord, the very short cord.

Then she said, "He never would have made it out."  I know that inspiration and our willingness to follow it although it meant giving up something indescribably dear to us, gave us the life of our son.  I finally knew that his mission would be here with us.  His silence was relieved now that we had chosen to obey.  As Ryan later developed we learned how hard it must have been for him to be so silent during that ordeal.  He turned out to be quite a talker.

After the delivery, they took me to the recovery room.  While my birth was a wonderful experience, the recovery room was a tremendously angry situation.

Years before there had been a television commercial about a woman being handed her newborn baby in the hospital.  She said, "And when they let me hold my baby for the first time..." I always got angry when I heard that.  Who has any business having control about when a mother can hold her healthy baby?  I hated the sublime message that permission came from a They.

After Ryan's birth I found myself helplessly in that same situation.  In the recovery room, I got a few moments bonding time with my son.  They wanted to clean him up, so off went my son and Neil.  For the next six hours I was the only lady in that post-op room who was not vomiting and not having a single problem.  Yet, I was not permitted to have my son.

Whenever a nurse would peek into my curtained section I would ask, "Where is my baby?"

Their replies varied but were always evasive.  "Oh when you are out of recovery then you can have him."  "Oh, he's all clean now, you don't want him back in here." "When you can lift your bottom off the bed, we'll send you out of recovery."  "Why don't you just sleep?  You'll be with your baby soon enough."

It did not matter that I was nice and polite, becoming more insistent or finally demanding, they would simply pull the curtains back around my bed and walk away.  I couldn't get up off the bed and go get my baby.  I was totally helpless, unable to take any action.

Finally all the nurses left for lunch but the skeleton crew.  All the women from the other C-sections and drugged births were gone from recovery.  I had been the only woman in recovery who had not vomited or faded into sleep.  Now, I was the only woman left behind.  I was literally yelling that I wanted to be with my baby.  An older nurse eventually showed up to see what had me so upset.  After my tirade she said, "There is no reason for you to still be here."  Then I was immediately, after six hours of waiting, moved into my hospital room and my husband brought my son to me.

Once Neil arrived, I found out that the same thing had happened to him.  "I am going to take the baby to my wife."

"Oh, you can't do that.  You might kidnap the baby."

"My wife and my baby need to be together."

"Oh, the baby is already cleaned, the mother will be out soon enough."

Neil held our new son for six straight hours while sitting on a chair in the nursery.  This was not making the nurses very happy.  They kept trying to get him to leave the nursery.  "Mr. Logan, why don't you lay him down and go check on your wife, why don't you go eat, why don't you go make phone calls, why don't you go!"

Neil stayed firm to the commitment we had made together.  No matter what the hospital routine was, we felt that his place was with our child.  I was an adult and could understand his not being able to be by my side but my infant had just been separated from his mother and home.  "No, my wife and I have a deep agreement.  I stay with our child until he is in her arms."

Six hours of separation for a healthy baby and a healthy mother!  That was the only horrible part of my dear Ryan's C-section birth.  I would have walked off and gotten my son if only I could have.  I much prefer home births and the elimination of the They who act as though the baby is Theirs!

My sister-in-law had warned me to not allow them to give me the pain killer medication that goes directly into the I.V. after the birth. She couldn't remember what it was called but strongly cautioned me against it.  She told me how horrible it would be and to just take the pill form instead.  I tried to stop the nurse and she just ignored me and said it wouldn't be so bad.

Boy, was she wrong!  I couldn't function mentally if my life and Ryan's depended upon it.  Good thing Neil was there and wouldn't leave.  Afterwards the nurse apologized and said, "If we had known that you do not use any caffeine at all, even in soft drinks, we wouldn't have given it to you."  It seems that I had no tolerance for the head-trip.  As Terri had said, when I took the medication in pill form it helped with the pain without my losing mental control.

Neil stayed with me in the room that first night.  I shared the room with four other women.  I could sleep with my sweet Ryan snuggled up on my chest.  He was an excellent nurser.  The hospital didn't know what to do with me.  Since I was a nursing mother, they required me to take their nursing class before they would let me leave the hospital.  Ryan, being my 6th nursing baby meant that I had nursed daily for 10 1/2 years.  I told them that I would be happy to teach the class but I wasn't going to attend it.  Not that such a class was a bad thing, but by then I was pretty irritated at being ordered around by these people whom I would never see again.  They relented.

The policy was to take the babies in the morning for about three hours.  The babies were measured, weighed and their temperature taken.  They were then ready for whenever their pediatrician showed up to check them over.  After that important event they brought the babies back to the mothers.

I refused.  I told the nurse that there was nothing that they had to do that would take three hours.  They were to bring my baby back immediately.  She told me that the doctors liked to have all the babies present.  However, if I absolutely insisted, then they would bring my baby back right away but it was an inconvenience to the staff.  I insisted.

It turned out that we had a very nice pediatrician.  She didn't mind at all coming to see the baby in my room.  We talked.  It impressed her that I wanted and had a large family and that I had nursed for so long.

When Ryan and I arrived home, it felt so good to be in our own corner of the Kingdom.  We had help from friends as I recovered from the operation.  Janna was living with us and was a tremendous help.  I just rested and cuddled my new little son.  He was so perfect and alive and beautiful!

About a week after the birth the What-ifs hit me.  I realized how close I had come to not following the Spirit because of fear and distrust of my ability to hear the Lord.  I had flashes of what if I had not listened?  What if I had been stubborn?  What-if began to haunt me.  There also came a deep testimony that it is better to allow the Lord to warn of problems whenever he will, rather than limiting him to when you feel it is time for the warning.

Neil's first comment to me about Ryan's physical appearance was, "He looks just like Jimmy!"  Jim was my sister's son.  I was not pleased with this comparison.  Oh, I loved Jim and he was an absolutely adorable boy.  The problem was that all my children except Chiya looked like Neil's side of the family.  Because Chiya looked so different from the other children, people always asked me where she got her coloring and even if she was adopted.  Me!  She got that beautiful exotic olive complexion from my side of the family!  Then to have my son compared not to me but to my nephew was just another affront to my sensibilities.  I got over it rather quickly because my beautiful Ryan really did look just like his cousin.

Each child would fluctuate between closeness to mom and closeness to dad.  Most of the time, children begin life attached to mom.  At about age 15 months they begin to switch and want their dad first.

Ben was different in that he wanted his dad whenever he was hurting.  There were times when I felt that his closeness to me centered entirely on feeding but his dad was his life.  Certainly we were aware that if Ben went too long without contact with his dad he became very sad.

Chani, Chamrie, Nathan, and Chalae were balanced between us, although if there was ever a choice, mom would be chosen.  Mom meant food and comfort but dad was play!

Chiya, Cheyanne, Chalae and Chrystal were totally attached to me.

Ryan's attachment felt different though.  It seemed that the natural attachment was present but magnified because of the six hours that Neil held him right after his birth.  Six long hours without his mother.  For the first year of his life, Ryan could not drift off to sleep without Neil there to hold him.  I would nurse my son.  Then I had to give him to his daddy and within moments he would be asleep.  He could go from his dad's arms to the bed, but never from mine.

This attachment was so intense that Neil would have to come home from work in the middle of the day just long enough for Ryan to go from my arms to his and then to sleep.  Sometimes that little infant would cry for nearly an hour because he couldn't sleep but fifteen seconds on his dad's shoulder would knock him out.  This caused my heart a great deal of sadness because I was certain that it was due to his being separated from me in the hospital through no fault of our own.

Ryan was also our first child with ear trouble.  He could not go anywhere by car for almost a year.  He would scream, not from anxiety over being in a car seat, but in tremendous pain.  We had to leave him at home when we went out on our dates.  He is the only infant that we left and that was because it was more painful for him to travel with us then to be left at home.

    Ryan was incredibly active and physically skilled.  We had a treadmill in our living room his first year of life.  He considered it his personal playground.  He would crawl to it and begin to do acrobatic maneuvers as soon as he could move.  He learned to stand on it and to swing on it and to climb on it.  He felt nobody else should use it.  It was his own toy.
    I could see why he was so concerned about passing off his lessons in the pre-earth life.  He was incredibly sharp and yet interested in so many things that it was difficult for him to stay in one place long.
    Ryan's ability to memorize things and to create conversation was also well developed.  Chamrie and Ryan were my vocal children.  They had an excellent command of language at a very young age.  When Chalae came along and surpassed their ability nearly from her birth we knew we were in for a fun ride.
    Ryan caused more innocent destruction of things in our home than all the other children combined.  I learned to not be critical of a parent because of their child's craziness.  It is unfair to think, "How could they let their child do that?"  As if any adult mother would just let the destruction happen.  After the damage is done and dealt with, we can't hold it against the child for the rest of the time the destroyed item is hanging around the home.  Some things take a long time to replace!
    I have to replace all the curtains on my downstairs floor.  All because of Ryan!  My recliner was repaired several times before we finally threw it out. We replaced Neil adjusting table twice and several walls of the house needed reconstruction and painting.  In all fairness the walls were more an accumulation of all the children than just Ryan's antics.

    Ryan is such a character.  I wish I could accurately describe him.  When he was four, he would do things that I told him to stop doing and then he would promptly say, "I'm sorry mom!"  He would say that constant line in the sweetest, most innocent and non aggressive voice.  He was not an aggressive child at all.  Then he would give a hug and turn right around and immediately do the same thing about which he had just apologized.
    When we put him on time out, he would get a puzzled look on his face and say, "But I love you!"   This was not in a whining tone but pure incomprehension about how we could discipline him when his attitude is so pure.  Ryan brought smiles and frustrations to us at the same time.
    One year, Ryan decided that when Neil was at work he really was in jail.  "My daddy is in jail today," was a comment we began to hear him tell other people.  Ryan was extremely close to Neil.  He had developed the concept that only jail would force his dad to not be by his side, so work must really be imprisonment.
    When Ryan was born, Janna was staying with us for several weeks.  She left and two weeks later her friend Stephanie and Stephanie's three small daughters moved in with us.  They stayed for over two years, so in Ryan's mind they were a part of the family.  When Stephanie moved on with her life, I was concerned about how Ryan would react.  He never said a word about it.  He never acted concerned or upset.  Life just continued in its wondrous manner.
    About six months after Stephanie moved she telephoned us.  Of course all of the children wanted to talk to her.  When it came Ryan's turn, he now being about four months short of his third birthday, he had only one thing to say. "You come home right now."  He said nothing else to her but so ordered her three times.  Poor Stephanie was in tears by the time I got the phone back and Ryan was running off to play some more.
    Ryan was always coming up with interesting observations.  One day he declared, "I'm such a good looker!"  I had to laugh.  It was true as he was a stunning little boy.  It is not often that one hears anybody declare with total pleasure how good looking they are.  I asked him how he knew that he was a good looker.  He knowingly replied, "Because I can find anything."
   It was true!  Chamrie was my other child that could find anything.  If I needed something and asked anybody to bring it, even with accurate directions, they rarely returned with the item.  Chamrie and Ryan would always return successful in the hunt.

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