When Fathers Day is Tough

Fathers day can be a difficult day for many people.

For those who lost their daddy. For those who lost their husband and daddy of their children. For those who wanted a daddy or relationship with one. For the daddies who lost their babies. For those who yearn to be a daddy. 

I want you to know, that you are not forgotten, this Fathers Day. 

I would like to touch on infertility and Fathers Day. Often people will post images expressing heartfelt feelings towards women with infertility on Mothers Day. Yet, I realized this Fathers Day there are not those resources for Men on Fathers Day. 
The truth is Infertility hurts men too. Even if their partner has the infertility factor, Fathers Day hurts. For the men who have an infertility factor, the pain is very internal and personal. Walking into the store, programs at church, family get gatherings are all reminders that he is yet, another year, childless.
The problem is that infertility is the grief that keeps on giving, cycling, and occurring.   

Too often we set a standard that men have to be strong, emotionless, and the “rock” during hardship. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate how my darling husband is my rock. However, I know that he too needs me as a rock. He too has grief. He too needs to try and work out his frustration. He too needs the time to heal. 
The truth is, just like a woman can be a mother with no children, so can a man be a father with no children. 

So to those who are struggling this fathers day. Know that you are loved. You are valued. You are important.

I didn’t marry my husband because of the quality of his swimmers. I didn’t marry him because he would be able to give me unlimited children. I married him because of the dashing, genuine, pure, and manly man he is! I married him because he already had qualities of a fantastic father. Had I known then, what I know now, I still would have taken his hand into eternity. 

And I know, when we do have a baby, he is will be the best Dad. It will mean something different to him. It will be the answer to his deepest prayer.

Infertility: Sean - "Fruits of Our Labors"

The last couple of months Lizzy has been undergoing some procedures to hopefully get us pregnant. A couple months of negative news, but we had faith for the month of May. The procedure went as planned and the doctor had high hopes. I had high hopes. During the last three years, I have tried all I can to be faithful and to be optimistic. Not just for me, but for Lizzy too. I just wanted to keep us going forward. 

When we lost our baby last July I felt like we could keep trying. Lizzy did not. She needed time. She told me over and over, she needed to regain her faith. I respected her opinion, and we took 7 months off. I have always liked the scripture in Alma about the fruit of the tree that will be delivered to us if we are patient. We have had a roller coaster of a month, including a young teen mother who wanted to know if we would adopt her baby. She decided to keep the baby. I can't imagine how hard that would be. We just pray for the mom and baby. It did hurt... a lot.  I couldn't think of anything else for a good week.

I just knew. I just knew that soon our prayers would be answered. Our procedure in May went well. Lizzy started feeling symptoms of pregnancy too. I felt like I was on eggshells. I wanted to be excited but not too excited until we got the positive results. One night, Lizzy showed me her test. There were two lines. Lines that held some hope and the answer to our promise. We were faithful. We were true. 

Then on Saturday Lizzy began to spot. The spotting got worse, and we knew what was happening. I was mad. I was upset. I felt forsaken. I felt lost. I felt my faith wavering. I didn't know why we had to go through this, again and again. I didn't want to try again. Every cycle is financially straining and I feel guilty for that. I felt so worthless. I was done. I couldn't do this anymore. I was tired of laboring and finding no fruit. While others around were receiving fruit they didn't even want. When others just complain about their fruit. When there are videos of men being angry because they found out their wife is expecting- and we are supposed to find it funny. I then felt my wife's arms around me. She just held me. It just felt good to say the things I felt out loud. To cry. I had been keeping so much in that I felt I was going to burst. We cried. We talked. We prayed. 

Sunday came along, and it seemed to us like a miracle happened. The spotting had stopped. We fasted for this to work. We prayed and I gave her a blessing. We did everything within our power to do. The tests were still positive, and they were darker. We were so hopeful. Then that night the bleeding returned, and we knew there was no going back.

Monday morning came and the Doctor confirmed that Lizzy was having another miscarriage. I felt like the fruit was ripped right out of my hands. The hope, the faith, and the promise. I just feel empty. Lizzy said the doctor kept saying, "This is hard. This is going to continue to be hard. I know that it hurts you." along with that his nurse remembered Lizzy (who wouldn't) and remembered our story- everything. She struggled with infertility, so they have talked a lot. Although we feel alone. It's nice to know that our team knows us personally and ministers to our wounds. 

Lizzy always says that having faith means that we believe that God can perform miracles. It also means that we will have faith that he doesn't have to. We have to have faith in both results. It's a lot harder than it seems. Don't tell me God has a plan. I know that. Its just hard to accept our plan, and that's okay.

 Although my basket is still empty I know there is fruit. Somewhere. And when I find it. It will be the sweetest most precious fruit of all. 

Infertility: A letter to my struggling reader

Hello,

My struggling reader

So I may know you, and I may not. I get a lot of messages ( around 20-30 per blog), and most of the time it's from one of my friends sending another friend to the blog. I'm glad that my messages are getting out there, but I'm sad that you can connect to what I'm saying. I'm sad that you feel I am "voicing what you want to voice." Why? Because infertility sucks.

So this letter is to you. Yep. You.

I want you to know that you are strong.

I want you to know that you are valued.

I want you to know that you are not "broken"

I want you to know that it's hard on all marriages.

I want you to know its hard on all relationships.

I want you to know that you don't have to be silent.

I want you to know that these trials can make you stronger.

I want you to know that you have a unique tribe of men and women who know similar feelings and want to help you.

I want you to know that I'm sorry for comments that hurt.

I want you to know that I know every month is hard.

I want you to know that I know its hard to face your spouse with negative news.

I want you to know that having a miscarriage doesn't mean it's your fault.

I want you to know that if your a male that having infertility doesn't make you less of a man.

I want you to know that your voice matters.

I want you to know its okay to cry.

I want you to know that I know it hurts when all of your friends are pregnant.

I want you to know that I understand the guilt you feel when others happiness makes you sad.

I want you to know that I know it hurts when you see children that would be the same age of one of your losses.

I want you to know its okay to mourn what you thought would be.

I want you to know it doesn't make you less of a parent to have a baby in an alternative way.

I want you to know that you won't feel lost forever.

I want you to know that it's okay to be mad.

I want you to know that it's okay to be sad.

I want you to know that it's okay to be happy.

I want you to know that I understand you hate taking those pills.

I want you to know I know it's always hard- regardless if you have kids already.

Most of all I want you to know that you are not alone in any of this. I hear you, crying in the shower. I'm pretty sure we all do. I want you to know how truly beautiful and brave you are to get out of bed. How strong you are to "try again". You can do this. I can do this. We can do this.

If I can encourage you to do just one thing it would be to use your voice. You have a story people need to hear. You have the opportunity to help bridge communications.

Also, if there is something you would like me to write about please let me know. If you are not ready, to use your voice yet, just know I will support you in any way I can. -Hugs-

Infertility: A Letter From Sean

I'm not known for being a good writer or good at putting my thoughts together. I have been trying to write this for a couple years now. Thankfully Lizzy helped me a lot to get this posted.

Ever since I was little, all I have ever wanted to be is a dad. My biggest fear in life is that I would never get married, and therefore never have the family I dreamed of. I wanted to be that dad that was super involved. That dad that would take his daughters out for dates. Go to all the games and concerts. Teach the kids how to hunt and fish. The dad that would teach his children how to pray and love God. I just wanted a family, always.

When Lizzy and I were dating I told her I wanted to start our family as soon as possible. She didn't want to, and I respected that. One night she came to me and told me she felt that we should start trying for a family. It was weird to me because we had been married not even a month She said she felt like it may be difficult for her to have a baby, and it would be better to find out why sooner than later. Soon we were tracking everything, but month after month no baby. Deep down inside I felt that it had to be me. Although Lizzy was convinced it was her.

After a year of attempting, we went to the doctor to start the process of figuring out why. I didn't realize the rollercoaster we were getting on. The first tests the doctor ordered were a progesterone test and follicle ultrasound for Lizzy, and a semen analysis for me. Thus began the most stressful and awkward testing of my life.

A week or two later I came home and Lizzy pulled me aside and told me the doctor called. Her tests panned out to be normal, but mine was not good at all. So bad that our doctor wasn't going to try anything with us, and told us to go to the reproductive care center in UT. I felt my heart sink. I felt embarrassed. I felt hopeless. It felt similar to that of a great loss. I felt like I had failed. I failed my role as husband. I failed my wife.

Soon we had a series of expensive tests to do and an appointment at the reproductive care center. We were nervous as we sat in the doctor's office, and nothing could have prepared us for what would happen. We were told we had a 3% chance of having a child naturally. Now the feelings I had before were confirmed. I felt totally hopeless and like a failure. That our opportunities to have a child was next to none. My wife would never know what it was like to carry a child and it was my fault. Because of me, she would be robbed of one of her greatest desires. Lizzy seemed to be at peace. She is the kind of person who just wants an answer so she can process it and deal with it.

Not even a week later we left for NYC. It was a trip we dreamed of, but now we had some extra baggage. Lizzy wanted to talk, and I didn't. I would just give short replies and move onto a new subject. That trip was the longest trip of my life. One night we were in time square when Lizzy just stopped and yelled at me. It was so loud around us it didn't matter how loud she screamed. By closing myself off I was hurting Lizzy. I never want to hurt Lizzy. I just didn't want to talk about my failures.

We came home only to do more tests. Once again Lizzy's test came back great, and mine didn't. I tried different medications, different diets, etc.. nothing changed. Even after everything my last test was so bad they didn't even bother giving me the numbers. Then all at once, it seemed like everyone was having babies in situations that were less than ideal. I was supposed to be happy for them, but it made me feel worse. Depression set in, and life got dark. It got dark for both of us. I only had one job. I only had to contribute one piece to the 1000 piece puzzle and I failed. I was stripped of masculinity. Drowned in unknown waters.

Every road we went down to try to have a family was closing. We called adoption agencies both international and domestic adoption only to feel it wasn't right. We looked into foster care only to feel that it wasn't right. Set up consultations for IVF only to feel it wasn't right. Nothing was right. I felt worthless and useless. I started gaining weight. I felt miserable and lost. I was keeping us stagnant. I kept feeling like Lizzy would be better with someone else. Someone that could give her the family she deserves.

The problem is no one talks about male infertility. Although male infertility contributes to 50% of infertility, no one talks about it. It bothers me how everyone just assumes it's Lizzy who has infertility. I have yet to meet a man that would talk to me about male infertility and to tell you the truth, but I don't know if I would either. Men don't like talking about their failures.

In June it will be 3 years of trying, multiple losses, and lots of tears. I'm so grateful for Lizzy and her unwavering love. I'm thankful that she comes from a family that not only understands infertility but understands loss. For the most part, I feel like I have been able to come to terms with my infertility. We keep pushing forward. Keep praying. Keep trying. Praying that someday our dreams will be fulfilled.

What not to say/do to someone dealing with male infertility.
1. Tell them to have faith in God's timing
2. Give advice because you assume we don't understand how to make a baby
3. Complain about your children and say that we are so lucky we don't have kids
4. Assume fertility only lies in the female sex
5. Try to fix them

What can you do for someone dealing with male infertility?
1. Pray for them
2. Have a listening ear
3. Be open to the discussion

I hope this helped someone understand or for someone to know they are not alone. This trial has been one that has altered my life, testimony, and marriage. After feeling alone in my trials I hope that others may not feel so alone, or that they may know how to help someone around them with male infertility. There can be joy in the face of trials. And, hopefully, someday, I will be a dad.

US: Emptying Our Bags

Well, life continues to be a rollercoaster! I have been spending a lot of time reflecting. The move to Idaho Falls in September 2017 was pretty difficult for us. We both kinda got in this "funk". Looking back I think we were both finally going through the motions of the events we had a couple months before. Right after we lost the baby and Sean didn't pass his test (July) we traveled non-stop. (a blog about those adventures) In fact, we didn't have a home. We just lived out of our suitcases.

Once we got moved in it seemed like a fresh start! However, you can't move very far forward when your dragging loads of emotional baggage. For the last 5-6 months, both of us has been exhausted. We would come home from school or work and just want to sleep. Constantly lethargic, wanting to just sleep all day and anxiety about the little things in life. Honestly, Sean and I probably needed to go on a little something to help us move forward, but we didn't so the process was a tad bit longer haha.

Simply, emotional baggage not only keeps us from moving forward and progressing, it makes life a whole lot harder than it needs to be!

I found myself reading Elder Hollands talk- Like a Broken Vessel, and there was a part that really stuck out to me. "In preventing illness whenever possible, watch for the stress indicators in yourself and in others, you may be able to help. As with your automobile, be alert to rising temperatures, excessive speed, or a tank low on fuel. When you face “depletion depression,” make the requisite adjustments. Fatigue is the common enemy of us all—so slow down, rest up, replenish, and refill. Physicians promise us that if we do not take time to be well, we most assuredly will take time, later on, to be ill."

I have often said infertility made me extremely aware of my body. I can read and recognize my cycle without any tests. Yet, through the process, I forgot to be aware of my emotional state. I was so worried about Sean, I forgot to take care of myself. Obviously, it was just a recipe for disaster.

"Whatever your struggle, my brothers, and sisters—mental or emotional or physical or otherwise—do not vote against the preciousness of life by ending it! Trust in God. Hold on in His love. Know that one day the dawn will break brightly and all shadows of mortality will flee. Though we may feel we are “like a broken vessel,” as the Psalmist says, we must remember, that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter. Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed. While God is at work making those repairs, the rest of us can help by being merciful, nonjudgmental, and kind."

Even when life seems like a low tide eventually a high tide will come. I think Sean and I needed a change. We needed to change together. Many, MANY times we both tried to change independently, but again, we were making it harder than it needed to be. Of course, it would be easier for us to change together and have the support system! Why do we always try to do everything by ourselves?

Wanna know what we changed?

1. When we go to bed, we plug in our phones, and we don't touch them until we wake up in the morning.

2. We have made a continuous effort to kneel down and pray in the morning and evening. Sure its easier to pray laying down in bed, but there is something unifying in kneeling with your spouse in prayer.

3. Being honest. Being honest with your feelings and emotions isn't easy, but it is essential for us to continually build that emotional intimacy. An extra bonus is getting out some of those kept up emotions!

4. Attempting to go to bed earlier and getting up earlier! Still a work in progress, but we are getting there.

5. Diet and exercise. Still a work in progress, but it has helped A Lot.

6. Medication- no shame whatsoever!

7. A change in Sean's major. Sean officially changed his major to biology with an emphasis in neuroscience. We feel really good about this change and its potential outcomes.

8. Scheduling a time to go to the temple and date night. No brainer there!

9. Having faith. I was waiting to try more procedures to get pregnant until we were more settled in life. I realized I wasn't having any faith in Sean, us, and God. So, we will be trying some procedures to hopefully get pregnant in the next couple months. Fingers crossed!!!

10. We are choosing to take control. Choosing to make changes in our life.

So if you feel like your stuck in a rut. Maybe even a broken vessel? Know there is light coming. Know that you can be healed. Be patient with yourself. Get to know yourself emotionally. Make simple changes in your life to bring you peace and happiness. Most of all if you need help- get it! There is absolutely no shame. I LOVE counseling. I think everyone could use it!

"If things continue to be debilitating, seek the advice of reputable people with certified training, professional skills, and good values. Be honest with them about your history and your struggles. Prayerfully and responsibly consider the counsel they give and the solutions they prescribe. If you had appendicitis, God would expect you to seek a priesthood blessing and get the best medical care available. So too with emotional disorders. Our Father in Heaven expects us to use all of the marvelous gifts He has provided in this glorious dispensation."

I hope we can become a culture of taking emotional health seriously. I hope we can become a culture where honesty is valued and appreciated. I hope we can be a culture where we can respond with love to people who are hurting (and may not show it in an appropriate way). I hope that we can all chose to become a little better and empty our bags!

Infertility: Blind to Miracles

I have been wanting to write another blog for quite some time. I started many but I couldn’t post them. Truth be told I had someone attack my blogs. Calling them selfish, insensitive, and rude. It felt like an extremely personal attack. It’s not easy to open up to…well… everyone. I just feel like I have an opportunity to talk about what others feel are taboo/secretive when it comes to infertility. Most of all, it allows me to heal. If you feel offended by my blogs, please feel free not to read them. What a simple solution!

About 5 months ago I realized I wasn’t feeling “normal” spiritually. I didn’t find desire to read and pray like I typically do. I felt hardened, and I felt distant from Christ. It seemed like every time I tried to make changes in my life to come closer to Christ something happened to knock me back down. I experienced another miscarriage, my dear sister had another miscarriage and lost her baby boy, I was stressed about passing my praxis, and we were trying to adjust to our new life in Idaho Falls. I recently going through my journal and found this entry.
“11-26-17
I’m just spiritually numb.

I’m struggling. I do all the right things. Read, pray, church, Temple... but I have a hard time feeling the spirit. I know it’s me and my walls. I feel tricked by God. Just not because of just my infertility, but those around me. We are actually not even trying right now. It’s not even on my radar, so emotionally and physically I’m doing tons better, but I realize my spiritual strength is lacking.

I spent some time with Mariam this week. I can’t even describe the pain I feel for her. It was like everything coming out of her mouth with being hurt is what I have wanted to express but couldn’t. I wish I could be strong like her, but I just feel so weak. I don’t feel like I can be sad. If I am sad then it really hurts Sean, and I don’t want to hurt him. He already hurts more than I can imagine. I realize that I had a lot of open wounds. I have built up walls. I don’t feel like I really trust God. I don’t really feel his love for me. I know he is a loving Heavenly Father, but I do feel like I’m forgotten. I’m sick of hearing that he has a plan for me, because my plan sucks. Meanwhile druggies around me are having babies like rabbits.

Its hard to go to church. Its hard to hear about everyone’s prayers being answered. Its hard to hear about promises that seem to be granted to everyone else. I know it sounds selfish. And, it is. But it is the truth. Its how I feel. It’s not that I feel a little left out when it comes to God’s blessings. Every fast Sunday just feels so rote. I pray and fast for the same thing.

I still have a testimony, and I am strong in what I know. I don’t deny God and his love for his children. I’m just not sure where I fit into all of that. I just feel stuck in a void. Numb. I just want to feel."



A month ago (I think?) I was in relief society (women’s meeting at church) and during our lesson we got into smaller groups and were asked about an experience where we experienced blessings/miracles. As I sat in the circle I was hearing amazing stories. Stories of people being blessed through the power of prayer, miracles, and the atonement (sacrifice) of Jesus Christ. There was even one about someone not being able to have a baby, but then being able to get pregnant and have the baby. It didn’t really bother me. That’s how dead inside I am. I guess that is the positive and not so healthy side to being numb. My heart began to race. I knew that soon people would be looking to me to share, something. I knew I had been blessed, but I couldn’t think of anything. My palms became sweaty and I felt like I was just going to start crying. What would I tell them? “I’m just really pathetic and I can’t see anything blessings. I’m struggling. I know that, but I’m trying to learn to trust God again”. Then someone said, “what about you Lizzy”, and at that moment someone else said, “ sorry I just wanted to share….”

OH MY GOODNESS. Never in my life have I been more grateful for someone else to talk when I was about to open my mouth. I even thought, “that IS my blessing right now. That I don’t have to talk…”. I sat there the rest of the meeting feeling absolutely awful. I know that the problem wasn’t God. It wasn’t his lack of love. It was me. I built walls, many, between me and God.

When I came home I got a message from a wonderful woman that was sitting in my group, “I’m guessing it’s hard to hear success stories about having babies all of the time... I wanted to give you hug today... I’m sorry!”
All the sudden I didn’t feel quite so alone. Here is a woman, who doesn’t necessarily know ( I believe) what my trials feel like, but she is willing to reach down and lift me to where she stands. It was then when I felt an immediate rush of love from God. I guess a wall was knocked down. I began to see all the little blessing around me. I felt a little lighter, and a little happier. Then it came to me. Maybe I was limiting God. Who am I to demand blessings?

I have the ability to choose. I can choose to stay in my miserable hole of self pity ( don’t get me wrong, I think there is a time and season for that), or I can climb out and see that there are many people offering their steady hand to help me on my way. I was looking for my miracles and blessings in the wrong places. I came to a ward where there are many who know the similar feelings I feel. There are some still waiting for their miracle too. I have an amazing placement for student teaching with a mentor that is beyond phenomenal. I have a business partner who uplifting and a much needed support. I have family who loves and supports us. We have amazing sister missionaries who always bring sunshine. I didn’t die all those times driving from Poky to IF in blizzards. I have amazing clients who send me sweet notes and messages. I have a tribe of women to support me. I have a husband that is my everything. I have a God, that gave his son Jesus Christ, so I could take upon me his name and become better. That I could lean upon His sacrifice. That I have the gift of the Holy Ghost (Spirit) and that through it I can feel content.

So, as a summary. I realized it wasn’t God being silent. In many ways he put other people in my path to help me, I just couldn't see it. My eyes were all mucked up. I needed to wash my eyes so I could see clearly.

Is washing your eyes easy? Nope. Scary like no other.
Is the trial still hard? Yes. But, I don’t feel forgotten.
Will I always be strong? Most likely no, but I think that's okay.

I’m sure Elizabeth in the bible felt similar feelings as I have. Yet, she did get her miracle. Hopefully I don’t have to wait as long- ha! Overall, we cannot limit God. He is all powerful. He is our father. What we think might be the end may be the beginning of something so different and beautiful we are forced to our knees. After all, God will make everything beautiful in his timing. He has shown me that he can multiple times. I just have to remind myself that he can do it again...




Ecclesiastes Chapter 3

To every thing there is a season—Whatever God does, it will be forever—God will judge the righteous and the wicked.


1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:


2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;


3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;


4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;


5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;


6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;


7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;


8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.


9 What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?


10 I have seen the travail, which God hath given to the sons of men to be exercised in it.


11 He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also hehath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.

Infertility: Stuck in a hole

I have found myself thinking about how I named the blog " Our New Forever" when I had NO idea that our life would be much different than anticipated.

The last couple weeks I have been really sick. Turns out it was morning sickness! By the time I found out I was even pregnant, it had ended. I wasn't sad at all. I never would have known I was pregnant. It's also part of our reality. The odds of Sean and I having a viable pregnancy naturally with a healthy and chromosomaly sound fetus is less than 1%. While I explained to my friend that I wasn't sad- at all, she explained how I should still frustrated. It's true. I was SO sick, and in pain. Made me wonder how long we would have to climb the dumb mountain until we could bring home a baby of our own.

This summer Sean and I had a wedding in Washington, and we decided to spend some extra time in the National Parks. We found ourselves in Mount Rainer National Park, and decided to do some hiking. We couldn’t find ANY parking. So, I sent Sean into the visitors center to find the perfect hike, and I would find some parking. Once I found parking, Sean came to me excited about the hike he selected. It was low in miles, and had an amazing view. Well, what he didn’t know is the hike was steep and uphill the whole time! Within 300 yards we realized our mistake, but we kept going. I was so out of shape. We both were. I felt like dying. Many people would walk 50-100 yards step off to the side to catch heir breath, yet others could just climb through the pain.  

People often refer to trials as climbing a mountain.

I used that analogy for over a year, and then it became obsolete.

Why? Because I didn’t feel like I was climbing. I wasn’t going anywhere.

My sister told me how sometimes we dig holes in mountains. I realized that I was tired. I didn’t want to go DOWN the mountain, but I didn’t have the strength to go up the mountain. I felt pretty pathetic. So many people around me had “bigger” trials, and they were climbing that mountain just fine. Yet, here I am, sitting in my hole. 

The hike never let up. The sun was blistering, we didn’t have much water left, my body wanted to give up, I was emotionally drained, and all I wanted to do is see the pretty view. Why did it have to be so hard?

Well, Sean was nice to me. He sat with me, and coached me up the trail. He does a good job of sitting in the hole with me. 

Going back to the car wasn't an option. Looking behind me wasn't either. This was my view. 

The view of Sean holding my hand, and leading me up the trail. We switch off who is dragging who up that mountain, but this view was beautiful to me. It gives me a kind of unique hope and support. 

Don't let the tone of this blog fool you. I totally complained the whole time. I was angry at Sean for picking that trail. I had to step off the trail often to even catch my breath.

I complain in this life too. I get angry. But, there he is. Strong when I need him to be strong. 

The truth is, the hiking part was awful, but the view.... it was BEAUTIFUL!

All the sudden I didn't care about how hard the hike was. I was just ecstatic to be at the top, and with Sean. The air seemed sweeter, the breeze was cooling, and there was some shade.

What I didn't see was the beauty that was all around me while I was trying to get to the top. I realized I kinda ruined the journey for myself. So, on the way down, I had a better attitude. Even though I felt my tibia was going to go straight through my femur into my hip! It was s steep trail

I guess the moral of the story is to try to find joy in the journey. Even in the hole you created for yourself. When you feel like it's too hard, look at what you already have. Don't forget the blessings that are around you.

                               

Also, there was another trail we could connect to once we got to the top. The mountains keep coming in life. So when you get to the top of one mountain, make sure you enjoy it!