Faith to Grow When You've Been Planted

I've been participating in the #novembergratitudechallenge this month, taking time daily to share something I'm grateful for. In the beginning of the month I shared a quote that I had found that inspired a daily gratitude post, 

Sometimes when you're in a dark place you think you've been buried, but you've actually been planted. -- Christine Caine

I have been "buried" many times throughout my life by so many different trials. When I found this quote I really thought about all those times. It occurred to me that whether we are buried or planted is up to us. Sometimes I am buried. I let the problems shovel darkness over me, and I am consumed by it. I stay there in that darkness, unchanging. Other times, I let it nourish me, teach me, and help me grow. Whatever happened, whatever the trail; it was up to me what came of it.

Infertility, miscarriage, infant loss, depression, postpartum depression, anxiety, whatever my problem, or your problem may be, it can bury you or you can choose to let it cultivate you. 

Every month that passed. Every negative ovulation test and every negative pregnancy test. Every pregnancy announcement I cynically wished I could "dislike" on Facebook. Every year that passed that made our dreams seem further than closer. Each one felt like a heaping, shovel-full of dirt dumped over our heads, burying us alive. Barely alive. The pit was filling up around us. The dirt rising steadily to our heads. 

You know that's what it feels like; slowly being buried alive in adversity. 

So, many times I sat still in that pit of despair and heartache. I let myself be buried in my misery. I let the darkness take me. I refused comfort. I refused growth. Oh, how I wish I could go back to those times and tell myself to fight. 

But other times I did try. I sought nourishment for my soil and I would begin, in small ways, to grow. 

On November 17, 2015, I peaked out from my pit and grew into the warmth of the sun. Max was born, and no matter the trials we endured through his short life, I felt peace. I felt joy.

But from the last breath he took until late this summer, it felt like a slow motion fall back to the deepest, darkest part of my hole in the earth. And when we lost our 3rd pregnancy in July, it felt like a bulldozer just moved a mountain of mud over me, and that was it. Pure, complete darkness. No light. No way out. I was buried.

I felt hopeless, and I stayed hopeless. I refused to water my soil or till my dirt, and I refused to let anyone help. And I was consumed there. I was buried so deep. My heart, my very soul, had been broken seemingly beyond repair. I was already buried, so why not just die? It seemed like the only answer then. It seemed to be the only way to get out, to get free. 

Being buried in our own negativity, is a choice. Despite grief, mental illness, heartache and failure, we can still choose to grow, even if sometimes that doesn't feel true. Sometimes it feels like we don't have a choice, but we do. And when we fail to be the gardener in our own lives. When we fail to cultivate ourselves, there is One who will always be there to do what we cannot. We only have to reach for Him.

The Savior is our gardener. And while He does not bury us, he will come to water us and give us sun and til our soil. If we just turn to Him in faith we can grow after we've been buried. 

I was planted. I was buried. And I grew.

Eventually, slowly, the light returned. I became firmly planted, instead of buried. I could have joy. I can have joy! I am made new. I have grown through being buried, and I am grateful for it.

Friends, do not get lost in the deep darkness. Do not lose hope when life buries you. Have faith to grow. Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world, is the gardener we can rely on when life's trials bury us deeper than we can grow from on our own.

XO

Plans

For once I fell asleep before midnight. Usually, I'm still trying to fall asleep by the early morning hours, but today I am rested and up before the sun. It feels so good! I'm sitting here in the quiet, pondering. I had a rough start to my week, but the Lord granted me some tender mercies to pull me back up. It is just so easy to get caught up in fears and worries, so easy to forget faith and trust, so easy to slip and loose ground. This was just one of those weeks where I was depressingly caught up in wanting God to reveal His plans to me. Like, "I'm so special that you should just tell me my future, so I can chill out. I know you've never done that for anyone else, but, come on God, it's me."

Ugh. Sometimes I can't even believe myself. *big eye roll*

Faith is not being told the plan so we can "chill." Faith is believing and trusting and going forward with hope. I had to be reminded of that this week. I was just feeling so desperate and dismayed like, "How will things ever work out? When will it all work out?" Well, in answer to that, I came across this scripture:

Yea, and how is it that ye have forgotten that the Lord is able to do all things, according to his will, for the children of men, if it so be that they exercise faith in him? Wherefore let us be faithful to him.
And if it so be that we are faithful to him, we shall obtain [promise]; and ye shall know at some future period that the word of the Lord shall be fulfilled...
1 Nephi 7:12-13

"How is it that ye have forgotten?" Those words jumped up at me. How easily we do forget the most basic principles. The Lord is able to do all things, according to His will; His will. Not mine. Even our most righteous desires can take time to be fulfilled, but our prayers never go unanswered without purpose. Heavenly Father knows what is best for us, knows what we need and when we need it. Someday, if we endure faithfully, His promises will be fulfilled. 

So no, things don't always go according to our plans. Or how about ever? Raise your hand if your life is perfectly on track with your plans. Yeah, that's what I thought. I mean come on, we make a lot of plans in life, especially when we are young. And those plans typically change day to day, or even by the hour! From the time they can talk we start asking little ones, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" When I was little, I used to tell my parents, "I want to be an ambulance!" Obviously, I didn't want to grow up to be an emergency vehicle, and my parents had to correct me that what I wanted to be was an EMT. It didn't take too long for my sensitive little self to realize that the medical field was no place for me, my emotions, or my weak stomach. Then, after many Monday nights trying to steal my dad's attention from football, I decided I wanted to be a cheerleader. My lack of balance soon helped end that dream. For a long time growing up I thought I wanted to be a Kindergarten teacher. By high school, I dreamed of becoming a fashion designer or a buyer. So, in college, I went in to sales and ended up in marketing, which is a far cry from being a "ambulance." 

However, aside from my lengthy and changing list of dream jobs, one plan never changed. I had one, rigidly unchanging plan. I wanted to grow up, graduate from college, work in a career, get married and then be a stay-at-home mom. That was all I wanted. Growing up in a small family, I dreamed of having 5 or 6 kids and living a simple life to accommodate being home to raise them. Above everything else I had ever imagined, that was truly what I wanted. But plans change. And we have to roll with it. I got married before I graduated college, my husband is still in college, and our children are in heaven. Plans change. 

So, why bother making plans if nothing works out? That's not what I mean, you pessimist. What I mean is, let's not set ourselves rigidly unchanging plans. Let's make achievable goals, and realistic hopes and dreams. Life is messy and complicated and unpredictable. If we base our happiness on plans, we'll never be happy. We have to base our happiness on our blessings, gratitude and achievements. Yes, there are plenty of disappointments, but there are plenty of blessings.

I guess then, what I'm trying to say, is I'm not making any plans right now. I'm setting goals, but not making plans. I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what the Lord has in store for us. I know that He has made us promises and I KNOW that we will obtain those promises someday. I have faith in Him and in His plans that if I live righteously and endure, those plans will eventually be revealed. But I can and I will be happy with this life right now, because THIS IS STILL A GOOD LIFE. Life didn't happen the way I planned it, but it will happen the way God plans it.

Stop making plans, Stay faithful.

XO

When Your Body is the Cause of Infertility & Miscarriage

Our genetic counselor called with the results from my last blood test. And I'm the carrier of the balanced translocation.

The same chromosomal balanced translocation that they discovered in Max was found in tissue from the last pregnancy we lost, and in my own genes. 

There is relief in knowing, at last, what caused the loss of our little babies during the first trimester and had some part in Max's problems, but there is also an ache in my heart, knowing that my own genetic makeup is at fault. 

Over the last 5 years, it was hard accepting that my own stupid ovaries weren't doing their job and, therefore, keeping us from conceiving. And now, finding out that my own genetic makeup is actually the cause of losing our children... That's a lot to feel responsible for. 

Before we agreed to test further to find out who was the gene abnormality carrier, Tyler was quite adamant about one thing. He held my face in his hands and looked deeply into my eyes, "Promise me, no matter the results of the test, that you will not blame yourself. Otherwise, I don't want us to get tested at all." So, I'm really trying hard not to feel the blame. Now, I know what you're going to say, "It's not your fault." And, logically, I do know that. However, logic hardly ever rules my emotions, and it certainly has difficulty ruling on this. 

So, what if/when you come to discover that the cause of your infertility, miscarriages and even the loss of your infant son can all be traced back to your very own genes? How do you cope with finding out that you are probably genetically incapable of creating healthy, life-compatible children? How do you find peace within a body that's own genetic flaw is preventing all your dreams from coming true?

How? 

These questions and more have plagued my mind the last 10 days while I waited for the results of my blood test and for the last 7 hours since I received those results.
Here are some of the answers I've come up with:

You cannot blame yourself.

Trust me. I know! Easier said than done. It is in our human nature to place blame with something or someone when things go wrong. We feel like if we can find the fault then it will make it easier to cope with the misfortune. But that is not what this is about. Our bodies are imperfect; from asymmetrical faces to balanced chromosome translocation. No good can come from blaming unfulfilled "perfect" expectations on our own imperfections. Blaming yourself, will only lead to hating yourself. And hate is powerful, and destructive. YOU did not cause this to happen. YOU cannot control the imperfections of your body. YOU can only choose to accept this and move forward.

You have to believe your partner loves you.

Worse than the pain of losing my babies, is knowing that my husband lost his babies. Tyler is my world. He my definition of happiness. Anything that causes him heartache breaks my heart even more. Fighting not to blame myself, and fighting to believe that he could still love me despite the faults of my body is difficult. I have often wondered how he could still love me, even though I cannot give him the children he so deserves. And after confirming that my own genetic abnormalities are causing miscarriages, I wondered how he could still love me or my body. But, ya know what? He does. He loves me. He loves me and he loves this broken body. He loves me when I'm hyperventilating during a panic attack. He loves me when I'm too depressed to get out of bed. He loves me when I wake him up in the night sobbing that I miss Max. He loves me when I feel unlovable. He loves the scar on my belly from which Max was born. He loves all the stretch marks left by 7 months of pregnancy. I cannot deny what I feel when he looks at me and when he says those words to me, so I have to believe it is true. I have to believe he loves me and that he won't stop loving me just because my body is causing our infertility. You have to believe it, too. Marriage is hard enough as it is, adding the pain of infertility and miscarriage can add terrible strain to that. If you refuse to believe your partner loves you, despite the problems, then it will make it harder for them to love you.

You have to have Faith.

Are you sick of me preaching about faith, yet? Too bad, cause I'll never stop pounding the pulpit on that principle. By definition, faith is complete trust or confidence in someone or something. Complete trust. Not a little trust. Not sort of trust. Complete trust. You have to trust God's divine, great plan of happiness. I'm confident that the Lord's plans are greater than my own, and that in His infinite wisdom He has designed a unique path for my life that will bring me unspeakable joy. I have faith that I will learn and grow through experience, and be lead to the right opportunities. I have faith in miracles. I have been blessed with so many, yet I have faith that there are many more to come. If I didn't have my faith, if you don't have some faith, then it all becomes hopeless. You have to have faith.

You have to understand the power of the Atonement.

The Atonement of Christ was so much more than suffering for our sins. The healing power of the Atonement reaches far beyond repentance. In the Garden of Gethsemane the Savior bore all of our burdens, all our grief, all of our pains. That means He felt the sting of every negative pregnancy test, the heart-shattering ache each time the ultrasound revealed a still and silent fetus, and the indescribable anguish at the graveside. He felt mine. He felt yours. He bore those griefs, with all their miserable weight just so we wouldn't have to hold on to them. See, because of His Atonement, we don't have to hold on to them. We can release ourselves from the chains of sorrow. We are relieved of carrying those burdens. You have to understand that, because then you'll be free.

So, that's what I've come up with. And, I think, it's all I really need right now. 

I don't know how or when Tyler and I will be able to have more children. But I don't need to know that right now. I have Tyler, we have our families and we have God. This life of ours is an adventure in faith. This is still a good life! The miracles haven't stopped and they won't stop, if we just keep believing. 

XO

Stepping into Growth

"In any given moment we have two options: to step forward into growth, or to step back into safety."
Abraham Maslow

I came across this quote the other day, and I've thought about it a lot. 

At this point, there isn't much hope for us ever naturally achieving a healthy pregnancy. Testing after this last miscarriage revealed the same chromosomal balanced translocation that was discovered in Max's genes. So, we're just trying to figure out which one of us it is coming from. There are expensive IVF options for trying to conceive a genetically sound baby, but we're not really interested in those options. So, that leaves us with two options: We can keep trying in hopes that eventually we'd get a healthy baby, knowing that more miscarriages or birth defects would come, OR we can look into adoption. The first option is, obviously terrifying. The thought going through any more miscarriages or burying another child is unimaginable. Adoption sounds wonderful, but unless we find a healthy, nonsmoker knocked up girl who just wants to hand us her child, adoption is a lengthy and expensive process that also doesn't always have secure guarantees. 

At points, I've felt ready to give up all hope; to just stay put where we are and accept life as a family of two, afraid to endure anymore failure. Part of me, the scared part of me, thinks it would be better and safer to not try anymore. At least there'd be no more failure. I just don't know how much more loss our hearts can take! But then, the other part of me can't imagine never trying again. That part of me isn't ready to give up on becoming a mother. That part of me isn't ready to think about never getting pregnant again or never finding our children. 

And Maslow's right. In life, we can accept the hard things and move forward, ready to learn and grow through our experiences, or we can shy away in fear and never learn a damn thing. No matter how hard the last 5 years have been, I cannot deny how blessed I've felt and I cannot say I'm not grateful. Even with the losses, I am so grateful for my three pregnancies, for my sweet angel boy and the 5 incredible weeks we had with him. 

We don't get to choose our hard things. We don't get to decide the trials we face. But we do get to choose how we face them and decide what attitude we will have while we endure.

Staying put might feel safe, but it's not worth it. We have to take the leap, step up and make the hard choices and try, even if we fail.

XO

Constant, Unconditional Faith Through Adversity.

Let's be real, folks. Life is freaking hard.  

No one is exempt from hard things, no matter what their life looks like on Instagram. So, don't ever think that you are the only one suffering or that you have been singled out. And don't compare your trials to anyone else. What may not seem difficult to you is breaking someone else down. And the trials you are handling and getting through might be torture to someone else. We are not meant to judge one another. We are only meant to love and respect one another, and feel for one another.
Trials are a necessary part of life. Unless you figure that out, your life is going to be even harder. Accept the adversity that comes. Face it, feel it, grieve it, embrace it, work through it and overcome it so you can move on to the next hurdle. I know, that's a lot easier said than done.

I've endured depression and anxiety, I've battled an eating disorder, my heart's been broken more than once, I've seen people I love most suffer in countless ways, I've struggled through infertility and miscarriage and I buried my sweet firstborn son. It's not like my life has been "perfect," and neither has yours. No one's has. That's my point. You have your own laundry list of trials, and I am sure I wouldn't want to trade for yours. 

I'm not going to pretend that whatever you are going though is no big deal or that your hurt or your grief isn't valid. We are human and we just don't see the big picture. But here is what I know. I know that whatever your trail is it won't last forever, "Peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment..." and something great awaits you, "And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes." (Doctrine & Covenants 121:7-8)

Enduring it well. That is the hardest part, right? When everything feels so wrong, so unfair, so not worth it- how can we endure it well?

My answer is and always will be: faith. Faith in all things. Constant, unconditional faith. My faith is in my Father in Heaven and in His son, my Savior, Jesus Christ. I know they love me in a complete and all-encompassing love I cannot even comprehend. Since I know that, I know that none of my difficulties in life are a result of cruelty. It is only in The Lord's nature to offer us the best. I have faith that every hardship I endure, or you endure, is to make us stronger and better. Through the things I have gone through I have become a more compassionate, understanding and just a better person. I have a strength in me now I never knew I could possess. None of my trials have ruined my life, because all those hard things have brought me my greatest blessings. If not for those trials, I wouldn't have the things I love most. 

Trials and tribulations always precede incredible blessings. God is good. He loves us. He wants to bless us! We just have to have faith and patience. If we don't endure well, if we despise our trials and see them as curses we will never notice our blessings. 

Spencer W. Kimball said, "Being human, we would expel from our lives physical pain and mental anguish and assure ourselves of continual ease and comfort, but if we were to close the doors upon sorrow and distress, we might be excluding our greatest friends and benefactors. Suffering can make saints of people as they learn patience, long-suffering, and self-mastery."

Our trials are not our curses. Through these sufferings we are made strong. The Lord is not punishing you; He is preparing you. Have faith through the storms. Clear skies are ahead.
Trust me, this is still a good life.

XO

#YouAreNotAlone

In the beginning first years of trying to conceive the loneliness of Infertility first began to sink in. Both of our siblings, many of our closest friends and coworkers started their families, and we felt completely alone in our journey. Little did we know then that 3 years later we'd still be on that journey, but we'd be anything but lonely...

Infertility can become an incredibly lonely and depressing disease. If you let it consume you it can destroy your soul. While so many around you start and continue to grow their families you can feel hopelessly alone, like no one can understand. And, truly, if they haven't been through it they just can't understand the heartbreak. 

In the beginning, we felt this. We felt so alone. We began to become disconnected and we each felt lonely even when we sat side by side. Infertility can also destroy relationships if you let it. Blame, misunderstanding, depression, feelings inadequacy, and anger can break even the strongest bonds. I blamed myself for our struggles and hated that my body could work like it should. Tyler couldn't understand how it felt to be the problem and couldn't figure out how to make me understand that he didn't blame me. I struggled emotionally. Tyler struggled spiritually. We were overwhelmed and hopelessly lonely.

But, ya know what? We weren't alone, and neither are you.

Soon, we realized that we were surrounded by family and friends who loved us, supported us, stood by us, prayed for us and hugged us. By opening up and starting this blog, I discovered an amazing community of men and women who knew exactly how I felt. We were introduced to new people who could relate and cultivated new friendships over joys and sorrows and tears.

Last, but never least, we came to know the Savior and the atonement in a way that made it impossible to ever feel alone again. His arms of grace encompassed us, and we were made whole.

We are not alone and friends, neither are you.

When you cry over another negative pregnancy test - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When you feel defeated and discouraged - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When you've spent more on trying to have babies than a new car - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When hope seems lost - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When you are crazy from hormone meds and shots - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When you lose the pregnancy you've long waited for - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When you lose it over a pair of crib shoes in the baby department - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When you are scared - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When you are tired - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When you want to give up - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

When it seems like everyone is having babies but you - YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

We are not alone. You are not alone. We are 1 in 8.

XO

His Grace Is Sufficient

Sometimes it takes a tumbling crash into the deepest pit of despair to truly discover our Savior and all His grace can do. 

This week was just such a tumble. I felt encircled in grief, loss, confusion, and depression. I felt weighted by lifes' loads, another failed month in trying to become a mother, and a new year of life to mark what I have yet to achieve. Suddenly I was hit with more emotion than I could handle, and I crumbled.

I felt defeated and unworthy of help out, but I Was Wrong.

Upon sinking to my lowest, in a dark place that promised me no hope or light, I once again discovered that there is no place we can hide from the light of our Savior. He always stands, ready to help us; we just have to reach up, take hold of his extended hand and He will always help us out.

After all, if anyone can understand the depths of our pains and the agony we feel in this life, it is our Savior. He suffered it all. And even our perfect Savior, before taking on all of our pains and sins, asked the Lord, "Father if thou be willing remove this cup from me..." So, it's okay if we feel overwhelmed and wish these pains we bear to be gone, but just like our Savior continued is his prayer to the Father, "nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done" we must be willing to gather strength from the Lord and continue in what he asks of us when it is not yet time to have that cup removed.

Last Sunday we learned about Grace. Two incredible 12 year-old girls defined Grace as the enabling power from God to act and endure to the end. God's grace enables us, but with that enabling power we must ACT. The Savior reaches out to save us, but if we don't reach back and work, He cannot help us.

I am so grateful for the Grace of God. I am so grateful for an endlessly loving Savior and Heavenly Father who still offer me the enabling power to act and succeed, despite my daily faults. Christ said,

"Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."  Matthew 11:28-30

I think, at times, we take that scripture to mean that Christ will just take away our load, that he will no longer require that we carry any burdens. But the scripture doesn't say, Whenever life gets hard, I'll take away all your burdens and trials anf make your life easy. He tells us to take his yoke upon us, meaning it doesn't have to be our responsibility to carry the load alone, and once we yoke ourselves to the Savior, it will become easier and our burden will be made light. 

David Bednar said,

 "Sometimes we mistakenly believe that happiness is the absence of a load. But bearing a load is a necessary and essential part of the plan of happiness."

Trials, tribulations, depression, heartache, disease, mental illness and disabilities are burdens we carry in this life, but they are not meant to steal our happiness, but to make our happiness that much sweeter.

I said it before, and while I'm remembering it, I'll say it again, THIS IS STILL A GOOD LIFE!

His Grace is sufficient for me. It is more than sufficient for us all. We just have to act.

XO.

Happy Birthday, You're Not Pregnant

I wake up and look at my phone. My app tells me I have 3 days until my expected start date. There are also 3 days until my birthday.

I sit up and rub my eyes as I begin the usual, monthly battle with myself. My mind fights my heart, even though we know who will ultimately win. My damn heart always wins out over logic.

I walk into the bathroom and sigh as I unhappily unwrap one the many pregnancy tests I keep on hand. I look at myself angrily in the mirror, wishing I could stop myself from such self destruction,

but I sit and pee and wait.

*Rule number 1 of taking a pregnancy test: never look until all 3 minutes have past.

I wash my hands and face, brush my teeth, and spray dry shampoo in my hair. Finally, I chuck the stick with its single, strikingly pink line into the trash can.

"Happy birthday, you're not pregnant, again." I mutter to myself as I brush my hair.


In 3 days I will be 27 years old. I used to really like birthdays and getting older. I've always loved aging, growing wiser, gaining more smile lines that proved my life was happy. But this year, I want to pretend my birthday does not exist. I want to turn back the clock. I want to be 25 and pregnant again; not turning 27, childless. This is not how I ever imagined my life.

Why, as little girls, do we imagine such detailed plans for our lives? It must be how filled with hope we are when we are young, and that Carpe Diem project Mrs. Breaux had us do senior year. We hope for our futures by planning them in such a strict way that can only lead to disappointment.

Among planning to live next door to my best friend, and swapping last names by marrying each other's brothers (HA!), I would graduate from FIDM at the age of 21, start designing, find my perfect man and marry at 25, and be done having kids by the time I was 30. Well, my best friend and I got over our crushes on each other's brothers and haven't lived in the same state since high school. Upon learning that the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising cost about $20,000 a year, and realizing I could NOT draw or sketch, I gave up my dream of becoming a fashion designer. I got married at 22, and didn't graduate from Weber State University until a year and a half later. And at 27 years old, I am nowhere near knowing when or how Tyler and I will have children.

Suddenly 27 feels so close to 30, and 30 haunts me as the age all the books say it will only become harder to get pregnant. And I am left wondering, How can it be any harder than it is now? 

Because it is so hard.

It is hard to know what to feel, what to do, what to plan. I feel heartbroken every month that I throw another negative pregnancy test in the trash can, but when I pray I don't feel good about going back to the fertility clinic. I feel like our home is hollow and empty without children, but I love our life together right now. I feel anguish at others' pregnancy announcements, but I feel excitement for them too. I am constantly in emotional turmoil and, I must admit, I am exhausted.

This week I do not feel brave. I do not feel like I have any divine wisdom to share with any one who reads this. I feel weak and vulnerable and exhausted. I thought about keeping it to myself, but I thought I should share this side of the story, too.

I mean, I am real. And I feel.

I feel broken. I feel happy. I feel despondent. I feel positive. I feel hopeless. I feel conflicted. But I FEEL!

This life is about feeling things: good things and bad things. This life is about discovering feelings, overcoming feelings, being empowered by feelings.

Today is hard. This birthday is hard, and I have no idea how much harder is still ahead of us. But we have each other, and we endure the hard days, birthdays, holidays, all the days together.

Happy Birthday, you're not pregnant. Keep feeling.
XO

Desperately Pursuing Peace

No matter what trial you are facing, infertility or not, the end goal always seems to boil down to, ultimately, finding peace.

Am I right?

Life is full of trials. This earth life is a roller coaster of slow, tough climbs and exhilarating free-falls. It is constant for us all. No one is immune- no matter what their life looks like on Facebook! For me, anyways, it always feels like just at the moment I think I've finally found steady ground, at last, I'll soon find myself desperately seeking peace once again.

Honestly, there are days I love this life. I really do! I love evenings and outings, alone with Tyler. I love spontaneous campouts, dates and ice cream runs without worrying about loading a baby in a car seat or finding a sitter. I love my freedom and no one depending on me for their every need. And if I'm totally and selfishly honest, I love Tyler's uninterrupted attention. 4 1/2 years later, I still feel like we are newlyweds. Our life really is beautiful, when I count my blessings and pay close attention. If I stop, breathe deeply, and take inventory, my life really isn't so bad.

But there are so many days I don't see how beautiful life still is. All I notice is how void our home is of tiny hands and feet racing up and down the halls. I long to see toys scattered throughout the living room and vacuum Cheerio crumbs out of the carpet. I long for tired, late night feedings and sleep deprived, exhausted days. I long to snuggle and read bedtime stories. I long to see Tyler softened and changed by fatherhood.

On those trying days when my heart aches for motherhood and I fiercely miss the baby I never got to hold, I find myself on a desperate quest to find peace with the life I have been given.

On just such a day, the Lord recognized my need, and I stumbled upon Psalms 34:

14 Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it. 

18 The Lord is nigh unto them that are of broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.

19 Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the Lord delivereth [them] out of them all.

22 The Lord redeemeth the soul of his servants: and none of them that trust in Him shall be desolate. 

So, because I'm a nerd, I then searched seek and pursue in the dictionary:

seek [seek]

verb (used with object), sought, seeking.

1. to go in search or quest of.

pursue [per-soo]

verb (used with object), pursued, pursuing.

1. to follow in order to overtake, capture, etc.; chase.

We can't just long and hope for peace. Sitting on your pitty pot and telling God to give you peace will never yield peace. It doesn't work that way, kids. And it is not enough to just go in search of peace either, we must chase after it and capture it. We must act!

Folks, that is my problem; I seek peace, but I don't pursue it. So, from now on, I vow to have a broken heart and a contrite spirit, and desperately pursue peace like my life depends on it. Many are my afflictions, but the Lord will deliver me out of them all. And with my trust in Him while I pursue peace, I shall not be desolate.

If you want peace, for the love of all that is holy, MAKE PEACE! Take inventory, count your blessings, repair your relationships, forgive others, ask for forgiveness, read scriptures, talk with God daily, listen to what he has to say, be a friend, give service, spend more time with the ones you love, keep a journal, cultivate your talents; whatever is good for your soul- do that, and you will capture peace.

Amen.

XO

You Might be Infertile if...

You might be infertile...

if you pee on sticks & in cups on a far too regular basis.

if wayyyy too many people know about your sex life.

if wayyyy too many doctors & nurses have seen your lady bits, & you stopped caring a long time ago.

if you take your pants off in any doctor's office, even if no one has asked you to.

if you've become unphased by intravaginal ultrasounds.

if you've ever had an intimate moment with a cup.

if you've ever had to carry a cup of your swimmers into the lab at the hospital & had to fill out the awkward, page long intake form with questions like, "What kind of specimen are you dropping off today?" "How long ago was the sperm collected?" "Before this collection, when was your last ejaculation?" "How was this ejaculate collected?" etc. **By the way, who knew there were so many ways to collect sperm in a cup?!

if you have ever had an ultrasound on your scrotum.

if your sex life is planned by an ovulation calendar.

if your doctor has ever prescribed intercourse.

if you have ever cried after said Dr. prescribed, lame, timed intercourse.

if you've ever been bat shit crazy on fertility meds- yes, that is the technical, medical term.

if your experiments with sex positions are determined by likelihood of conception.

if you have ever laid with four pillows under your butt & your feet over your head after sex in hopes that somehow you've created the perfect downward slope for those swimmers to make it to your lazy eggs.

if you've ever ugly cried in the baby department.

if you've ever yelled obscenities at your ovaries.

if you've ever apologized to your ovaries out of fear that you angered them even more.

if you can't believe all the money you wasted on birth control before trying to get pregnant.

if you've googled ancient fertility methods in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep & have almost considered putting a date in your vagina in hopes the Egyptians knew something about curing sterility.

if your ovaries have to be coxed by drugs and shots of HCG to wake up and release eggs.

if your eggs are slightly mature for their age.

if you used to think having twins would be a horror, but you're starting to not hate the idea.

if you've ever wanted to punch someone who complains about how hard it is to NOT get pregnant.

if Walgreens always prints you ovulation & pregnancy test coupons, based on your frequent purchases.

if you've ever just thought, "I give up! I'll have a hysterectomy & just adopt!"

Happy Monday, infertiles everywhere!

XO

What to Expect When You're Not Expecting

You've most likely read the book, seen the movie, have the app, visited the website, or have at least heard of What To Expect When You're Expecting. For expecting mothers it is a fun way to follow each week of your pregnancy, like "today your baby is the size of a papaya," and "did you know your baby has fingernails?"  **insert more Juno quotes here

But what about when you're not expecting??? What do you expect then?

It's not like most of us grow up expecting to be infertile. Maybe some who have endured the horrors of endometriosis, PCOS, or other troubles receive some warning from doctors along the way. (But even then, you never know! Miracles do happen! Congrats again, Brandleys!!)

I, certainly, did not ever expect infertility would ever be part of my life. I didn't have any indications before trying that would have warned me. And I never had anyone really close to me have trouble getting pregnant. In fact, I had more experience seeing people who needed What to Expect When You Weren't Expecting to be Expecting.

So I'm here to tell you what no one ever told me:

What to Expect When You're Not Expecting

Expect for getting pregnant to not be easy. I know it seems like everyone is getting knocked up right and left. Trust me, I KNOW! But, for the most part, it actually is normal to take 6 months to a year to conceive. You aren't even considered infertile until you've been trying to conceive for a full year. It sucks, a lot, but you are not alone! There are actually a lot of us. Those who say "Let's have a ba... OH! I'm pregnant!" are actually more rare than those of us struggling with infertility. Don't be surprised that it is hard. I mean come on, think about the human reproductive system and how much has to be in the right place at just the right time! It is a miracle anyone gets pregnant!! Am I right?!

Expect a lot of idiots. From the moment you get married, like at your reception, some fools will start asking when you are going to have kids. Like it is any of their damn business! Expect this immediately and for years to follow, and just be ready with witty responses that will make them as uncomfortable as their question. "So, when are you guys going to start having kids?" "Hopefully, 9 months from this morning!" *wink wink*  "So, why don't you guys have kids yet." "Because we hate children." "Because he's got slow swimmers." "Because my uterus is an inhospitable environment for fetal development."  "Because... oh wait, our sex life is none of your damn business!" Sheeeeesh!

Expect to be told to "Just Relax." Like I said, expect a lot of idiots. Especially during the first 2 years, a lot of people will tell you "You're thinking about it too much," or "Don't stress about it and it will just happen," and "Jusssst relax." These people are uneducated and have no idea the emotional turmoil that is associated with finding out that you have a medical condition preventing you from conceiving naturally. Just ignore the fools!

Expect advice you never asked for from people in no position to give it. Again, idiots. Everyone will have a solution for you. Everyone will know someone who tried "A" and got "B," and without knowing your condition they will suggest you do exactly what that person did and promise you the same results. Everyone will have a story for you about a friend of a cousin who tried for 5 years, adopted and then ended up having 5 more kids naturally. Try to remember that they probably mean well and they are trying to be supportive. Also, try not to punch them in the face.

Expect to cry... A Lot. After you've passed that year mark you're going to experience embarrassing breakdowns. Just expect it. You'll be minding your own business, just shopping one day and you'll stumble into the baby department and begin to uncontrollably bawl. It's okay. Nobody probably saw you, and if they did OH WELL. Have your good ugly cry right there in public, and then move on. You'll cry when you get a baby shower invite and you'll probably have to excuse yourself to go in the bathroom to cry at that shower. You'll cry when you seen birth announcements on Facebook. You might even cry every month when you get your period. (GUILTY!) Sometimes you won't even be able to pinpoint a trigger, but you'll just start bawling while you're cooking dinner. It needed salt anyway, right? Its okay.

Expect awkward moments. Aside from way too many people asking and knowing about your sex life, there will be other awkward moments. Like, if you work at a place with a lot of women who have had babies and clients ask you how yours is doing, "Nooooot meeeee." And then they insist they know you told them you were pregnant last time they came in, "Ohhh... yeaaah I was... I-had-a-miscarriage..." Awkward pause. Then they start to cry and apologize and you try to assure them its fine and its been months and not to worry, then you go to the bathroom and cry cause, well, you do that a lot! You cannot prepare for these moments, hence the awkward. And I'm super awkward so I have know wise wisdom for you on getting out of this.

Expect to learn a lot. Infertility advantage? I now know more than I ever have about my uterus and ovaries. I know way more about my reproductive system than most women who have had 5 kids. When it comes easily, you have no idea what an effort it really is. So read up, learn a lot, and use the knowledge to your advantage. Educate yourself and others.

Expect to get angry. I am a firm believer in throwing tantrums. Maybe its my red hair, but a good hair-pulling, pillow-punching, cup-throwing, curse-filled tantrum is sometimes the best way to feel better! If you're like me, you'll hold it in for too long and try to put up the ever-positive, see-my-big-smile front to make sure everyone thinks your fine. Eventually, you have to find the right place and time to let it out. Lock yourself in your room, scream and throw things. When you feel sufficiently exhausted and your voice is hoarse, pick yourself up, clean up and move on. Trust me, it will feel AMAZING. And forgive yourself when you don't make the time for the private tantrum and lose it on the client at work who wants to know why you don't have kids if you've been married for 4 years. She'll learn a lesson she needed to, and you'll still feel better.

Expect to give up every now and then. Infertility is emotionally, mentally and physically exhausting. Sometimes you have to give it up for a little while. Expect to need to take breaks, and allow it! Maybe you'll need one or your partner will. Either way, it is okay. No one can judge you for this. You have to do what is right for you and for your sanity. Take a month, 6 months, a year, or even just be done. It is your body and your life. You and your partner get to decide when enough is enough.

Do not expect for everyone to be understanding or sympathetic to your struggle. You may have friends or family who just don't understand, or who are too selfish to care. I'm so sorry if you have to deal with this. It is unfair and they are jerks. Like I said, expect idiots.

Do not expect a single, quick solution. You and your partner will probably endure a lot of testing and a lot of trial and error. Sorry, but there is no single fix. Infertility results from SO many different problems and it will take a lot and a while to work out the kinks. Just do what you can and try. That's all you can do.

SORRY, do not expect a lot of financial help. Most insurance companies do not offer infertility coverage, even though it is a diagnosed condition and you see a doctor. There are some changes in the works, but they are small. Save your money and do what you can.


It sucks. Infertility freaking sucks. I know. But there are a lot of us, and even if we don't know each other we are enduring together, crying together, throwing tantrums together and learning together. It really is okay. Somehow, someday, some way, it will some how work out how it should. In the mean time just try to enjoy the journey somehow, even if you're not expecting.

XO.

Holidays with Empty Arms

To all the Moms and Dads with empty arms this holiday,

First of all, I love you. Whether I know you or not, we are kindred spirits. I love you for your strength, and even for your weakness.

I have always loved the holiday season, and I still do...
but this year is definitely hard to enjoy.

This time last year we were sending Christmas cards to our closest friends and families announcing the coming of baby Boston. We received phone calls that were all shouts and sobs. We got tearful bear hugs and I got belly rubs. When I told my aunts, there was so much jumping and shouting house shaking that a ceramic plate fell off my Grandma's hutch and shattered Sorry Grandma! And a few days before Christmas I awoke to a swollen bump under my pajamas.

I never could have guessed I'd reach this Christmas with empty arms.

...But here we are, just the two of us, setting up our Christmas tree and hanging the ornament we made from our first ultrasound.

Isn't it just hard?! Still hard to believe your baby really isn't here? Harder to believe that you made it? I mean, really, surviving is pretty freaking hard.

Some days I still can't decide which is worse. Infertility or Miscarriage? They're both terrible, and together they're what nightmares are made of. But as much as losing Boston broke me, I still would choose carrying him for 13 weeks over never having him at all.

I don't know how to explain the wholeness you feel the moment you see that flicker and hear the rapid thud of your tiny little baby's heartbeat. I mean, infertility is it's own awful pain. It's like you feel like you're missing out on something, and you just... want it. But miscarriage is the gut-wrenching, soul-aching pain of having part of yourself ripped away. You were suddenly so whole, and then just as suddenly you are only part of who you were. Where once you were making life, you are now empty. And it hurts. It hurts like hell.

And all the while, the world doesn't stop. Life moves on with or without you. Everyone that was pregnant with you, had babies without you. Every "first" you looked forward to is had by others, and all you can do is watch and move along. But you have to keep moving and participating. Trust me, we tried sitting it out a few rounds but it didn't make it better. It only made us bitter.
And bitterness never was happiness.

So, we move forward. We keep them in our hearts where their memory can hold the broken pieces together. We keep them in our hearts that are slowly beginning to heal.

Know you aren't alone. Like I said, even if I don't know you, I love you. I understand you. I broke like you. I ache with you. I'll heal with you. And, more important than my love is God's love for you. Christ understands our pain and our aching. He bore our griefs. His love heals.

I offer a simple prayer for all of us, May God grant us peace, comfort, and the serenity to accept the things we cannot change. May He someday, somehow fill our empty arms.

Love & Merry Christmas to you all

Xo

Crying in Target is a Solution

I stopped at Target after a long day at work to pick up a few things. As I wandered past the baby section, I stopped to look for Christmas presents for the nephews. I sifted through the Christmas jammies and thought about celebrating Boden's first Christmas this year. I thought about how it would have been our baby's first Christmas, as well. I thought about how this time last year I was pregnant. I thought about how different this year is ending than it began.

I clung to the 3-6 month footie pajamas that I could have been buying for my baby's first Christmas and began to cry. Yep, I cried right there in Target. It wasn't a weeping-and-wailing kind of cry, but it wasn't a single, solitary tear either. It was somewhere between just-enough-to-be-embarrassing and not-too-attention-drawing.

After a while, and a prayer of thanks that no one had seemed to notice me, I hung up the pajamas and made my way out of the baby department, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

This fall has been an emotional one, with Boston on my mind so much. Deciding to take a long break from fertility treatments has been relieving and painful. Its good to have a break after 3 years, but its also been hard to accept what is and make peace with this trial. Making peace with God to help me accept that now is not my time to be a mother. Making peace with the possibility that I may never get pregnant again. Making peace with myself that I will be okay if that is the case. Making peace with the fact that this is not the first cry I've had in the baby clothes department, and that it probably won't be my last.

Sunday I taught a lesson at church on "How can I find solutions to my challenges and problems?" We read the story of Christ calming the sea, "And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full.

And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish?

And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.

And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?"
Mark 4: 37-40

As I read that, I thought, how often do I expect the Lord to just hurry up and calm my life's storms? How often do I sink in my trials, calling out, "Master, carest not that I perish?" And how often does the Lord respond, "How is it that ye have no faith?" 

Heavenly Father can't stop every bad thing from happening to us, but he can stand by our side as we endure. I don't know who said it, but I love the quote, "Sometimes God calms the storm. Sometimes he lets the storm rage and calms the child." I have felt the Lord calm me many times during this trial, even in the middle of a breakdown in the baby department at Target. I know I have grown and learned so much through hardship, and I know I still have much more to learn. 

So, how can I find solutions to my problems? I can read my scriptures every day for guidance. I can pray for strength to weather my storms, rather than for the storms to calm. Tyler and I can spend more time on each other and strengthening our marriage to withstand this trial. I can take advantage of the time I have now to cultivate my talents, and better myself. 

And I can accept that, sometimes, crying in Target is a solution, as well.

XO.

Pain demands to be FELT

October is miscarriage and infant loss month...
October is also the month that I became pregnant 1 year ago.

I could be blogging about my 2 month old smiling or holding up his head, but here I am, writing about miscarriage and infant loss month.

I would love to tell you that it gets easier with time, but the ache never goes away. Sure, it gets easier to hold babies or see birth announcements without the kind of crying that makes you gasp for air and turn blue, but it always hurts. The aching hole in my chest gets smaller but I think it will always be there, making it hard to breathe. Every time I hold one of my nephews I think of Boston. What would he be like at their age? Would he look like either of them? Sometimes its hard to hold them or look at them too much, but more often its harder to let go of them or look away. My arms and heart just hold on, desperately aching for the baby I never even got to hold.

I think that is the worst part of the loss. Its not the loss of its little life, but the loss of its whole life. It is the future we missed that hurts the most. The birth, the blessing, the first sounds, first crawl, first steps, first words, first day of school, baptism, rotten teenage years, graduation, college, marriage, LIFE! I mean, we only think Boston was a boy and we hoped for and pictured him with red hair, but we don't know. He was only a 12 week old fetus when we lost his heartbeat, and he became a memory to us.

It is the middle of the night (morning?) and I'm up writing this blog because

A. I don't ever sleep, and

B. My heart is so heavy tonight, my chest feels too crushed to relax and/or breathe. I'm just aching.

I think what I'm finding hardest about this month is that I didn't expect to get here and still not be pregnant. I just figured that once we started treatments again- viola!- we would be pregnant again. Not so. And so year three drifts past us. Three years of trying and hoping and praying got me 3 beautiful months of pregnancy, but no baby. And as often as I point out all the benefits of being childless to myself, it is never enough to make me forget him. I just miss him too much. I mean, I don't sleep as it is, but my sleepless nights have no purpose. Oh, what I would give to rock a crying baby in the middle of the night. 

I know there is a plan, and hope is not lost. I know that this life is meant for learning and growing, and I'm feeling pretty educated. I know that somehow someday, probably long from now, some little voice will call us mommy and daddy. I know that you can't force what is not meant to be, and I know that now is just not our time. But I still can't help being overcome with this pain tonight. I can't stop it.

"That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt."
John Green said that. He's a genius.

XO.

Happy Birth Day, Boston!

Who knows? By now, you might have already arrived, you may have come today, or we might still be waiting to see your cute face. But today is the day the doctors, the apps, and the calculators said I was due to have you. We would have found out if you had the red hair we'd been hoping for, if you looked more like me or your daddy. But, guaranteed, we would have cried with joy over how perfect you were.

Oh, we miss you. We still love you with every beat of our hearts. Nothing could ever change that. You are our greatest miracle, Boston.

I have thought of you everyday since finding out you existed, but you have been heavy on my mind throughout what would have been my last trimester. I don't think I have ever wished to be so fat or hot! I would've loved to have spent the last month waddling around, roasting in the summer heat, waiting for you to arrive. Some days, I still can't believe you're really not coming.

I'll be honest. Mommy has had good days, okay days, and really bad days. The really bad days haven't been my proudest moments, but I can't help how much I loved you or how much it hurt to lose you. I now understand what it feels like to really have a broken heart. I thought I had experienced it before, but I was wrong. It is a real and physical, excruciating pain. When the doctor took my hand and told me you'd stopped growing, that you were no longer living in the little home I'd given you, the words were like hands around my throat. They sucked all the air from me, and when I could no longer breathe, then came the pain in my chest. I felt a fault line form down that center as my heart cracked apart and shattered. Trust me, the 2 weeks that followed were filled with some of the most horrible pain I've ever endured, but nothing can compare to that pain of a breaking heart.  I thought it would stay that way forever. I couldn't imagine how we could ever recover from such emotional pain. There, in the ultrasound room, it felt like all was lost. I didn't know how we ever would move on without you.

But ya know what fixes a broken heart, little one?

Love. 

And, man oh man, are we a greatly loved family! Your Grandma and Grandpa King were constantly by our side. They took care of everything and left us with nothing to worry about. Grandma Garrett came all the way from Arizona to take care of me when Daddy went back to work. And then came the meals, gifts, condolences. I know we are biased, but we really do have the best family and friends in the world! We are so incredibly blessed. They had all loved you the moment they knew about you, too. And it hurt them almost as much to lose you. 

Last, but never least, the pure and all-encompassing Love of the Savior saved our souls. He healed us. Our hearts were mended by his merciful Atonement, and we survived. Because of His love and His plan, you are not lost to us.

Boston, it is hard without you, but it is still a good life. Your short existence brought us more joy than losing you could destroy.

 

So, today, we cannot just sit at home crying our eyes out, wasting your special day feeling sorry for ourselves. Today, we have to celebrate you! We will celebrate our love that created you, and the love you created in those 12 short weeks. Our love for you and each other grows with each and every day. You have no idea what you have done for us. What a special little one you must be to have changed us so much in such a short time.
You are our angel. 

We adore you, sweet Boston.

Happy Birth Day!
Love, Mommy & Daddy

XO

Sometimes ya just need a good cry.

Its hard to believe that July has arrived and is almost over! I thought winter would never end, and then, suddenly, summer is almost over. What's harder to believe is that summer will come and go, and Boston won't be here. Some days it really still surprises me. And I'm amazed by that. I just keep thinking I'll get used to it. But every now and then, I wake up in disbelief that it's not January 10th and this hasn't just been the most horrible nightmare.

Next Tuesday will be my due date, but I won't be going to the hospital or bringing home a new baby. Instead, I'll be spending the day in Park City with Tyler. It will be an amazing day together, I'm sure, and its not a bad way to spend the day, but it's not what I had in mind for July 29th 6 months ago.

I have been running on a serious happy high for the past few weeks. We've just been loving life and feeling great. I got really settled into that and thought the rest of the month would just be a total breeze and not phase me, that I could just keep feeling fantastic. But, unfortunately, I'm actually a human being with a heart. And that heart is still pretty tender. 

Tomorrow is another day, and I'm sure I will feel brighter soon, but for now I'm just going to carry my heavy heart, have a good solid cry and miss the baby I never got hold. What else can I do? Sometimes ya just need a good cry.

Xo.

This is still a GOOD LIFE

When you have been trying to conceive for almost 3 years, eventually, you have to start looking for the silver lining. And trust me, its there. So, if may be honest, there actually are some perks to the childless years. There could be more if we weren't going broke trying to get pregnant, but we'll take what we can get! Not a dime we've spent on infertility could ever be called wasted, and we've decided not to let any of this time we've been given be wasted either.

Unfortunately, I did waste a lot of time in the beginning of our journey wishing for a different life and missing what was right in front of me. Well, not anymore!

Last Friday night I got home and started rummaging through the fridge, wondering what I should cook for dinner. Tyler called with a proposition, "Let's go camping!" The boring adult in me immediately responded, "It's already 7 o'clock, we're not packed, we don't have anything ready to go camping." Obviously disappointed, Tyler agreed and said he'd be home soon. After we hung up I started thinking...

Why couldn't we pick up and go camping? What responsibilities did we have?Besides laundry, dishes, house chores and all that stupid nonsense. What was keeping us home? We had no plans, camping is practically free (unless you go all out on camping treats, which we did!) and it was supposed to be a beautiful night with a full moon.

By the time Tyler got home, to his great excitement, I had the bedding piled in the living room and an overnight bag packed and ready to go. We threw everything in the jeep, stopped at Maverick for firewood, hit the grocery store for snacks, and headed up to Avon. We crossed our fingers that our favorite spot would be open, and it was! We set up camp as the sun set and started cooking dinner.

We settled in by the fire, roasting marshmallows under the moon's bright light. We talked and laughed until the middle of the night. This, right here, was perfect.

 

We couldn't just pack up and run away if we had a baby, and we certainly couldn't be doing this if I was 9 months pregnant. Does it change that I'd rather be 9 months pregnant? or at home snuggling a baby? No, of course not. But I'm not pregnant and we don't have a baby. So, should we feel guilty about enjoying things that are out of our control? NO! Do we have every right to still enjoy this life and have adventures? YES!

When it comes to infertility, there can be so much that is unfair and heartbreaking. You have to do your best to find the difficult blessings  you deservedly earn for enduring to the end! I thought July would be the hardest month of my life, but Tyler and I are happier than we've been in years! We have finally figured out that we are allowed as much joy as anyone else, with or without children. We're not wasting away the days wishing for a better life, because despite how hard it can be, this is still a GOOD LIFE! It is a great life! 

Live the good life.
XO