In late December 2004, Mr. Nielson and I went into Anthropologie
in the Upper East Side of New York City.
I was very pregnant with Oliver.
(Ollie was born just two days after this shopping trip).
While browsing Anthropologie, I fell in love with a gorgeous pink felt hat.
Mr. Nielson bought it for me, and I went home on the train with it in a hatbox
and visions of me on Easter Sundays in my pink hat.
After church on Easter Sunday in 2008, we set up a tripod at the front
in the Upper East Side of New York City.
I was very pregnant with Oliver.
(Ollie was born just two days after this shopping trip).
While browsing Anthropologie, I fell in love with a gorgeous pink felt hat.
Mr. Nielson bought it for me, and I went home on the train with it in a hatbox
and visions of me on Easter Sundays in my pink hat.
After church on Easter Sunday in 2008, we set up a tripod at the front
of the Lazona Estate and took photographs of our little family.
I wore my pink Easter bonnet, and I have worn it each Sunday since.
Then, four short months after this photo, our life completely changed.
After waking up from my coma, I swore to everyone I would never be happy again.
I promised I would never be a mother again. I swore I wouldn't do a lot of
things- including wear that pink felt hat again.
The day before Easter in 2009, I lay on my couch feeling sorry for myself.
I hadn't intended to go to church.
I felt ugly and ashamed of my appearance and who I had become.
However, I got up and went anyway, stiff, in pain, and unhappy.
I sat in the pew without my bonnet.
I looked down the row at my family, who were sitting
I looked down the row at my family, who were sitting
together looking beautiful, healthy, and happy
dressed in their Sunday best, honoring the Savior
and His beautiful Resurrection.
dressed in their Sunday best, honoring the Savior
and His beautiful Resurrection.
And I thought that I deserved to wear that hat again.
The following Easter, I found the hat and some courage and wore it to church.
That pink hat had become a symbol of my comeback.
The pink hat- as silly as it sounds, is symbolic to our family of His
The following Easter, I found the hat and some courage and wore it to church.
That pink hat had become a symbol of my comeback.
The pink hat- as silly as it sounds, is symbolic to our family of His
Resurrection. After loads of healing, I wore that hat again the next year and
every year since. Same girl, new body, same heart, new life.
every year since. Same girl, new body, same heart, new life.