Marshall's story begins with Our Little Angel

 Marshall died in March 1979.  At Thanksgiving of that year we sat down for dinner at the Logan's and just before prayer was said I felt Marshall standing right beside me. It was a fleeting moment but very clear.  At that moment I understood that a good part of the loss I felt had been the loss of his spiritual touch.

When Marshall began to move within me, there was this very different feeling of spirit.  It was blended within me such that I didn't separate it from my own spirit and accepted it as only the changes within me as a mother-to-be and new wife.

Then Marshall was born and died so quickly.  It was as if a part of me that I had cherished was gone.  I knew that our relationship with our son was of an eternal nature, but I also knew that my spirit felt different than it had only weeks before.

That touch from him on that Thanksgiving day let me know that what I had felt inside me was his own spirit.  For that one moment at Thanksgiving I felt that same combination of my spirit, Marshall's spirit, and the Holy Ghost and again it was testified to me that nothing is lost.

Because of that, I can recognize the difference between my own spirit and my babies' spirits as they begin to move within me.  I don't think I could have been so aware of the difference if Marshall had not died and if I had not been looking for understanding about that feeling of loss.

When Neil's mother was about to die, we asked the children to pray about going to see Grandma on that day or going to church as planned.  We had just seen her the day before and were all dressed for church, but I had this persistent feeling that we needed to visit her.  I walked in on my little Chani, then eight-years-old.  She was crying.  I asked what was wrong and she told me that Marshall had come to her and let her know that Grandma was going to die soon.

Neil had come upon a sad Ben.  Ben told his dad that Jesus had just told him that Grandma was going to die.

We went and visited with her and she passed on a few days later.  What a great blessing to have my son come to prepare my daughter for that event.  How grateful I am that the Lord cared enough for my children's tender feelings to warn and teach them.

 Holding our little son after he had died was absolutely the best thing we did.  Taking him into a private room and blessing him was a priceless moment.  It is not easy.  But we learned that sometimes the hardest path at the moment turns out to be the easiest in the long run.  His spirit was there and very aware of our reaction. Looking upon and holding his little body was an expression of love and awe amid the grief.

I hadn't had a dream about Marshall until he had been dead almost seven years.  Then in November 1985, I did finally dream of my son.  I saw his coffin, the beautiful one his uncle Marshall made, sitting above ground.  It was open and in it was my son, Marshall, moving his little arms and legs, filled out and beautiful.  I picked him up and cuddled him close.  It was a very physical sensation.  I held him until he fell asleep.  Then someone beside me said that it is not time yet for his body to be resurrected but that I now know what it will be like.  I laid him back inside his coffin-bed.  The feelings were tender and grateful, not a trace of sadness.  I look forward with even more sureness to that day of reuniting.

 When I used to contemplate the atonement, I wondered why Christ needed to atone even for sins that will not be repented of.  Then I gave birth and my son could not nurse.  My breasts filled with milk and I hurt!  I understood then that just as I was fully ready and able to nourish my baby and the child would not take the milk, Christ made the atonement for all so that they could be nurtured if they will.

The atonement was not only suffered for our sins.  It was also suffered to help us heal from the painful effects of bad choices.  Sometimes we have only painful things to choose among.  Such a choice was made by us twice in Marshall's short life.  Both have caused tremendous pain and only through my testimony of my Lord and my knowing he knew our hearts, was I able to over come the suffocating grief caused by the choices made.

The first was our choice between the two hospitals.  We made the decision based upon the information given.  Perhaps there was a whispering of the Spirit in this matter but I cannot recall such a prompting.  It was a quick choice and it took my son away from the experimental medication that could have saved him.

The second was far more oppressive.  In 1988 I heard a news-breaking story of a woman causing the American Academy of Pediatrics to change their official stand concerning infants and pain.  Up to that point the official language was that babies do not feel pain.  They did not need any medication for surgical procedures.

She had a child die from prematurity.  Her child was given open heart surgery like ours.  Her child was put on a drug used to paralyze the muscles so there would be no movement during surgery, just like our son.  This drug was not a pain killer.  In fact, no pain killer was used, as none was used for our Marshall.  Her son deteriorated after the surgery in the same destructive pattern as our baby did.  It was found that the pattern matched the pattern adults would experience from the shock if a similar procedure done without pain medication.

She took this first to the medical officials.  They would not listen to her.  She took it to the government and they would not listen to her.  She took it to the media and then the American Academy of Pediatrics changed their official policy concerning giving pain killers to infants under the age of two years.  However, it was cautioned that parents still check with the anesthesiologist to be sure he will follow their wishes for pain relief.

I voiced the same cry of horror as this mother.  I had given  permission for this surgery including the use of that same medication.  I had no idea, I could never have suspected, that would mean no anesthetic of any kind.  I would never have thought to even ask such a question!

When I heard the news, I was pregnant with Nathan.  I nearly passed out from the assault upon my heart.  I grieved for the pain I had allowed even more then I had grieved over his peaceful death.  My sweet son!  If I didn't know that the Lord and my son knew my heart and my ignorance in the matter I could not have survived the agony.

The atonement is so intimately woven into our very lives that we cannot separate ourselves from it and still exist.

Why do we sacrifice so to bring our children here to this life? Is it punishment as some would say? Or is it part of a plan of greater wisdom and glory?

When I was expecting my first, I pondered that question. I found myself transferred in my mind to a quiet garden called Gethsemane where the dear Lord knelt in agony. There it was that He willingly took upon Himself the sins of the world. It was in that garden where, all alone, He labored, stopping in-between moments to call upon friends whom He asked only to watch with Him. Where finally, He called upon His dear Father asking that if it were possible to let the cup pass, nevertheless, our Lord was strengthened and He finished his preparations unto the children of men.

How very much like labor and birth. We protect and nourish the little body of our baby. The time comes for labor. Friends, assistants draw near but no matter how strong the love in the long hours of labor they must be called back to concentrate and watch with the mother.

The dear husband, how painful for his loving heart to stand by and be unable to take from his sweetheart the agony and the great effort. The limit of his participation must be his support alone.

The dear mother, reaching that inevitable point and crying out if it be possible, let it pass from me! Nevertheless, she is strengthened and behold a life is born.

Just as the Savior gave birth to the eternal soul through the miracle of the Atonement, so has she given birth to the physical body of the child. Why the similarities? What is the purpose? Could it be that the plan includes the Mother nurturing and teaching the little one in all the young and tender years? Could it be that in wisdom she can better understand the mission of the Savior and His great love because of the touch of identity with Him that she has experienced?

I have little pain, but the agony of preserving these little lives stays with me for months, as I pray for a safe delivery. Is the plan for me to see how the Lord hopes and strengthens us in our attempt to arrive safely before him?

With my C-section, I was up all night praying to go into labor immediately so as to avoid the operation. I was praying just as hard praying that labor wouldn't start because I knew it would mean my son's death. Was the plan for me to understand that a loving Father leaves us free to choose life? In His deep love, He cannot force us to accept His divine guidance.

I am the mother. I hold in my power the ability to strengthen my children to face life, true life, from a unique perspective, the perspective I choose. Do I present a love of life that extends beyond sorrow, pain, hesitation and darkness? Do I exemplify something more than the current moment? Do I open for my children vistas seen more clearly with the spirit than with the eyes?

I hope so. They have remarkable bodies which house even more remarkable spirits. I hope to assist them in keeping themselves as full of light tomorrow as when they were entrusted to me today.

I saw Marshall in vision but it felt as if he really visited me. I saw Marshall standing off to the side within an elevator of light. He was patiently waiting for me to finish what I was doing. When I was done, he came and took my hand. He had someplace to take me. We traveled to a room and as we entered I saw many children. They were all singing. They approached me and placed a crown of glory upon my head. "We love you, we honor you and we thank you for giving us the gifts of our bodies." The feelings were overpowering. Afterwards I felt willing to be in any physical shape as long as I could receive those children into my home.