There’s a new cook in the kitchen!!

Well maybe not an entirely new cook but we now have the assistance of Miss Emilia Rebecca these days! Our sweet angel is 8 months and 9 days old! She loves emptying cupboards of their contents ensuring that I, as head chef, know exactly how many plastic bowls, lids, and spatulas are kept on the lower shelves. I can’t believe how quickly time has swept by. In the last two months, Emilia cut two teeth, learned how to crawl, has started jabbering frequently, and likes to hold our fingers as she strides across the room. As mentioned above, she is also extremely talented at emptying anything of its contents (diaper bags, baskets, drawers, etc) and spreading those items throughout the room. Personally, I think she delights in watching me pick them up twenty times. Just today she also started standing on her own without any help!!! Our menu at the Cazier household is also going through a drastic change as we have begun the joys of baby food!

We are currently considering the transfer of our kitchen to a new area in the world. David is working on his last semester of school (until the Masters). He is a resource teacher doing his student teaching this semester at a middle school. After this semester he graduates and we will be transferring our kitchen to a new place of employment. The spice in this recipe: not knowing just where the new location will be. The icing on the cake: we won’t know until the beginning of November at the earliest and we will need to move by the early to middle of December. The actual cake: there is no doubt that we will have a job. Even with this spice and icing, this cake is going to be delicious. We will greatly miss Logan and our friends here, but we are ready to start our next recipe!

I love being the cook in the kitchen! It’s so wonderful to be at home with Emilia. I love experiencing life with her and I love being the wife of such a magnificent man. As my sister and I grew up, we played house. We played “mommy” and we dreamed of the day we would one day be mothers and wives. We dreamed of the day when we would be the executive chefs in our kitchens. I am living my dream and so grateful for it. My favorite kitchen to cook in includes an adorable baby girl pulling herself up on my legs with a grin on her face as she looks up at me. It includes a handsome hard-working man walking through the door to tell me that I look beautiful even when I don’t. It includes a smile on my face that no one and nothing else could have ever put there.

I am grateful for the new cook in our kitchen and I’m grateful for the taste tester we already had on staff (David). They both make our kitchen home.

The Power of The Priesthood

When Dave’s parents arrived at the hospital, Dave and Papa Kem gave me a blessing. I don’t remember much of what was said in the blessing except for a part that talked about the power of the priesthood. I remember being told that my appreciation for the priesthood would grow with this experience and that I would realize what a great power it had.

Four hours after giving birth to our precious daughter and watching her be whisked away from me, I found out that all was not well. Because I had preeclampsia, the doctors and nurses didn’t tell me what was happening with Emilia in fear that it would further raise my blood pressure. Dave was instructed to keep quiet as well and I was therefore unaware of the peril our daughter was in until nearly four hours later when I was finally allowed to go down and feed her. As I sat with this precious bundle in my arms and I was able to truly look at her for the first time, my husband sat across from me and told me of what he’d experienced in the past four hours with Emilia. I daresay that after hearing about her first hours in this world, my appreciation for the priesthood certainly has grown to monumental proportions, just as my blessing had said it would. I am so grateful for the Priesthood and those worthy Priesthood holders who were ready, willing, and worthy to bless our daughter in that time of need. I have never felt the love of our Father in Heaven nor the sacrifice of our Savior more than in those moments when I held Emilia in my arms.

We were finally able to bring our precious daughter home after 5 days spent in the NICU. Thankfully her rough beginning has been just that: a rough beginning. She is now doing famously well and received a clean bill of health from her doctor at her two week checkup. Thank you for your prayers, love, and support during our time of need.

Emilia is now 3 weeks old and amazes us every day with how much she has grown and changed already! Our baby girl is content and happy as long as she has a full tummy and is being cuddled. Yes, we have a cuddlebug on our hands –which is only a problem when we’d like to get some sleep, and she’d like to be held while she sleeps. lol

On A Side Note: This past weekend, Rachel, Rob, and (8 week old) Kylie were able to come visit us. We had a wonderful time! The weekend passed much too quickly for our taste but we were grateful for the time we had. Seeing Kylie and Emilia together was a blast and catching up on each other’s lives was fantastic. I forget how much I miss family until we get to spend time together.

The Miracle of Our Little Miracle

One cold and dark day while serving my mission in Trondheim, Norway, I met a man on the street who, after I had asked him if he believes in miracles, responded that "Miracles are whatever we want them to be. They are fantasy. They are made up from the mind of man and are only fine, ridiculous stories." Today, as a new father with a strengthened testimony of the truthfulness of miracles, I can prove this statement wrong.

Just one minute after January 26th, 2011 had begun, Emilia Rebecca Cazier was born into this world. After cutting the umbilical cord and looking happily at my beautiful and strong wife, I followed my new daughter over to the portion of the room where some nurses were taking her vital signs. Excitedly, I looked at my beautiful new addition to my life, but was nervous to realize that Emilia--blue, silent, and motionless--lay struggling with life on the table. After tapping my daughter vigorously, looking for a cry or movement or anything, the nurse immediately called on her radio for help. Suddenly, two additional nurses burst into the room with an infant resuscitation device, which was used to send electrical shocks through my minute-old daughter.

At that very moment everything around this little tiny human seemed to fade. Exams, grades, money, ipods, cars, rent, and bills all instantaneously vanished from any care and thought in my mind. All I wanted and cared about was for my brand new daughter to cry. 20 milliters of fluid was extracted from Emilia's lungs and stomach, and efforts to ensure a regular oxygen level failed.

After attempting to reassure my worried wife that everything was ok with baby, I followed the nurse rolling Emilia in her clear crib down to the neonatal intensive care unit. As fast as she had been born, Emilia was now hooked up to half a dozen medical machines and instruments, with her beautiful skin being pierced by needles. Despite the rush and haze all about her, little Emilia lay still and motionless in the crib.

As I looked upon this tiny daughter of God being pricked with needles, a hallowed thought and feeling soon swept my soul: "It's ok, Emilia. Jesus was pierced too. He understands you, and He is here with you."

After understanding the concerns and magnitude of Emilia's condition, a strong feeling came to me that a priesthood blessing is needed. Confirmation was affirmed when my father, after seeing me leave the NICU and come to him, said, "Are we going to give her a blessing?"

With my father-in-law anointing her small and precious head, I placed a few fingers upon Emilia's fragile forehead and pronounced a blessing of healing by the authority of the holy priesthood of God and in the sacred name of our Savior.

Looking back at this now, I struggle to grasp the complexity of this miracle that occurred. Within twenty minutes, baby Emilia's oxygen level went from a life-threatening 50% to a healthy 90%. Although still unable to cry, Emilia could breathe on her own with little help from the machines. The nurses, with amazement, noted how quickly Emilia's condition curved. "I haven't seen something like this," one nurse commented. "I wish we could prescribe that to every patient in here!"

If I could meet that man I met in Trondheim, Norway again, I would plea with him to listen to his statement with all his heart. I would ask him to truly consider if miracles are made by man. Are they really fantasy?

Almost 2000 years ago, the greatest miracle to ever occur upon the face of the earth was pierced, just like my tiny baby girl, but for all of us. With great drops of blood, our Savior Jesus Christ atoned for all of our sorrows, our sins and mistakes, and our flaws. He perfectly felt each and every bump of every road. He knows what it feels like to watch a daughter struggle to survive. He knows what it feels like to fall upon your face in sorrow. He knows what it feels like to make mistakes and struggle with decisions. Perfectly, He died for us in love.

Miracles are real, for Jesus Christ is real. Because He lives, we too shall live. The miracle of Emilia, our little miracle, is that the power of Jesus Christ thrives today through the priesthood of God, and that our Savior overcame every literal thing imaginable for our happiness. "And now, O all ye that have imagined up unto yourselves a god who can do no miracles... Behold, I say unto you... God has not ceased to be a God of miracles" (Mormon 9:15).