The Right Person in the Right Place: A Note to Young Women on Marriage

I met my husband when I was 18 years old. I had just graduated high school and moved to college. We met at a meeting for the track team that we were both a part of. He had just returned home from his mission, and though we became instant friends we didn’t start dating until a few months later. From the time of our first date, it was only 3 months until we were engaged. A few weeks after we started dating, I knew I had very strong feelings for him and so I started praying constantly to know whether he was someone I could be with forever, as well as fasting and attending the temple looking for guidance from my Heavenly Father. I remember the moment I knew. We were in the living room of my apartment watching a movie. I was sitting with my head lying on his shoulder and I had such an overwhelming feeling come over me that he could and would make me happy forever. It was such a strong, warm and comforting feeling and I will never forget it. When he proposed a couple of months later, I didn’t even hesitate for a second to tell him yes.

We were engaged for 5 months. About a month before the wedding I was preparing to go through the temple and finishing up some last minute wedding details. I went for a weekend with some friends to another friend’s wedding, and during that weekend that I was away I began to feel so dark and alone. I can’t explain the way I felt. I still don’t fully understand it. I felt physically sick and couldn’t shake a dark feeling inside of me. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t find comfort. A good friend there gave me a priesthood blessing of peace and comfort, and following the blessing I had a very distinct impression that what I had been feeling was Satan’s influence. I am confident that he was very aware of the choice that I was making to go receive the blessings of the temple and to be sealed to a wonderful man for eternity. And he was doing everything in his power to stop me from doing it. With the power of the priesthood, I was able to overcome those feelings and proceed with my temple marriage.

The day I was sealed in the temple is one of the most sacred and special memories that I hold. Though the day was a blur, I will never forget the feelings of peace, joy and comfort that I felt as I was surrounded by my family and the man I love, being sealed to him for time and all eternity.

Marriage is not easy. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking it is. I’m hopelessly in love with my dear husband. He is a wonderful husband, the best father, a hard worker with a sense of humor. He’s everything that was ever important to me and is important to me now. And it’s still hard to be married to him. We disagree about things on occasion, and when those times come I am so grateful that we have similar goals and priorities in our lives in relation to the gospel. At the end of the day, we both know that our home and marriage is centered on Christ. When we remember that, it becomes easier (or sometimes just less important) to see eye-to-eye.

A few years into our marriage, my husband and I encountered a major obstacle in our desire to start a family. We struggled through years of infertility, and I mean we really STRUGGLED. During those times, we relied heavily on the knowledge that we would be together forever because we were sealed in the temple. Additionally, the temple promises that we would one day have children (whether in this life or the life to come) brought us some comfort. Now we have 3 young, healthy and happy children and our lives are so different from what they were during those times of extreme trial. And still, our temple marriage is of utmost important to me. Seeing these tiny, beautiful little ones run around, I can’t imagine not having them with me forever. Because of my temple marriage, I don’t have to worry about that. The family is indeed of God, and I am so grateful that I will have mine with me forever.

Who you marry and where you choose to marry him will have a huge impact on your life. It may well be the biggest decision you will ever make. That’s not to scare you, but rather to encourage you to use dating as a time to find someone who makes your heart sing. Someone who lives the same kind of life that you live. Who wants the same things as you want. Don’t settle. Please, please, please don’t settle. Marry the right person in the right place and you will be well on your way to a joy-filled life.

Much love and best wishes for happiness!

The Unpleasants

When I was 32 weeks pregnant with the twins, I felt like a small whale. Or a large whale. Something gigantic. I had over 10 lbs of baby inside of me, in addition to two placentas, lots and lots of fluid, and all my usual organs, which felt like they were being reduced to the size of peas. I was uncomfortable, to say the least. Caroline was up so high that I had to constantly push her legs and elbows out from under my rib cage. Charlie was so low that anytime he hiccupped, kicked, or wiggled at all, I peed my pants just a little bit. I generally prefer not to ponder on these "unpleasants" of pregnancy, but now that I am feeling as giant as a whale again, the memories are flooding back in.
While I was in the height of my discomfort with two babies inside of me, Forrest's work held an end -of-busy-season party. It had been a particularly awful busy season, where they were working 80-90 hour weeks for nearly 5 months. So to celebrate surviving the madness, we were invited to a lovely weekend resort stay, complete with meals, spa treatments, unlimited golfing etc. And it was wonderful.
I was treated to a facial, an hour-long pregnancy massage (with a giant pillow with a hole in the middle so I could actually lay on my stomach - pure bliss), an entire afternoon in the spa.. it was heavenly. One of the evenings, the company had arranged for all of us to get together for dinner at one of the fancy resort restaurants. I dressed up as fancy as is possibly for a small whale, and headed to dinner at 8 PM. That was a little late for me since my usual pregnancy bedtime was between 8:30 and 9:00. But I went anyway, and guided Forrest to a seat near the exit so I would be free to get up and use the restroom as needed. What I didn't know when we showed up was that we were about to be served a 500 course meal. Seriously, the food just kept coming. With plenty of time in between each course to cleanse our pallets, I suppose. I tend to drink a ton of water when I'm dining out. Especially when I have to wait a long time for my food. So I was drinking a lot of water, and my tiny little pea-sized bladder kept filling up all too quickly. And then Charlie felt it necessary to do a little jig at frequent intervals. All of this meant that I needed to use the restroom. A lot.
And the restroom was nowhere near where we were sitting. And it wasn't the "weave your way through all the tables to the other side of the restaurant" kind of trip to the restroom. The restaurant itself didn't actually even have a single toilet anywhere inside of it. Instead, guests had to stand up, weave their way through all the tables to get the to door, walk out the door and into the resort, and then walk another half-mile to the restrooms in the hotel lobby. It was quite the trek.
The entire journey to the restroom and back took me about 10 minutes. Which is about the frequency at which I felt I needed to use the restroom. So my night looked a little something like this:
8:00 - Seated
8:10 - Restroom break
8:20 - Eat first course, drink lots of water
8:21 - Restroom break
8:30 - Eat second course, drink a gallon of water
8:35 - Restroom break
And that was only the first half hour. This dinner continued on well into the 11:00 hour. And everyone seemed to be wide awake, with no intent to wrap it up anytime soon. Sometime after my 137th trip to the restroom, one of my husband's coworkers leaned in close to Forrest and quietly asked if I was ok. Forrest just laughed and responded that yes, I was fine, but pregnant women just have to pee an awful lot. Finally around 11:30, I could barely keep my eyes open. My legs were numb from sitting in the same chair for so long, and I needed to use the restroom yet again. I decided it was time for me to call it a night, so I excused myself for one final time and headed to bed while everyone else stayed and chatted and ate until heaven knows how late.
Thankfully I haven't had any experiences with the unpleasants this pregnancy that have even come close to that one. Even last night at Chili's, when I had to use the restroom four times during our hour long dining experience - it didn't even come close to what I experienced at the resort that night.
I had actually somewhat forgotten that resort dining experience until now. I think when I was pregnant with the twins I was just so beyond exciting to finally be pregnant that I blocked out all of the difficult and uncomfortable parts. I had waited so long for the experience, and it was something that I didn't know if I would ever get to experience again. So I chose not to dwell on the unpleasants, and to some extent I don't think I really noticed them. But let me tell you, I sure have noticed them this time!
It's a good think this pregnancy has been unpleasant, though, because otherwise I think I would want this baby to stay inside of me for as long as possible. Unpleasants make it exciting to think of the new baby finally being here, and help to drive away the terror of having 3 kids under the age of 2! Actually it doesn't completely drive away that terror... but it helps a little.

When the Unexpected Happens

We think we have a plan for our lives. Then a giant obstacle gets in your way and changes everything. It leaves you on a completely different road than you'd planned, but soon you adjust to this new path and get settled into a groove again. If you're lucky, you get to stay in that groove for a while. But some people aren't that way. And I'm one of those people.

In my previous post about infertility, I mentioned how hard it was to cope with not being able to have children. The twins were an absolute miracle, and I thank my Father in Heaven for them every single day. After going through IVF, I dreaded the day that I would have to do it again. Of course it was worth it - but it was so so hard. Emotionally and physically. I crossed my fingers and hoped and prayed that somehow, someway, I would never have to do it again. But I knew they were false hopes. Infertility is a part of my life now, so I need to accept that and realize that this is my new normal. Most people don't have to pay $15,000 for their children. But I do. 

I'd accepted this new normal and was moving on in my own merry way, leading a crazy life filled with my two crazy 11 month old munchkins. And then all of the sudden, in one moment, that normal became not so normal. That was the moment I got a positive pregnancy test. The first of my entire life. (The nurse called me the first time. I never actually took a test). I was completely shocked. And speechless. And dumbfounded. I couldn't stop shaking. And smiling. You always hear about those people who try for so long and then either adopt or do infertility, then without even trying or knowing they get pregnant out of the blue. I'd heard about them. But I never in a million years thought I'd be one of them. 

There are a myriad of different thoughts that run through my head. More emotions that actual thoughts, really. Excitement. Relief. Terror. Shock. Joy. Inadequacy. Gratitude. Fear. They are all there. But the most present emotion is shear happiness. Words cannot express how happy I am to have this baby. This baby that is every bit as much of a miracle as Charlie and Caroline are. 

Like I said, I still have fear and doubts. I mean, I'm going to have 3 kids 18 months and under. Do we get a 3rd crib? 3rd high hair? Or do my twins just have to grow up super fast? Do we need to move? Is it at all possible to potty train before 18 months old? How am I going to handle 3 kids in diapers? I could keep going. But I won't.

My point is, the bad feelings are there. The fear and the doubts and the insecurities. But I choose not to focus on them. I choose to recognize that this baby is a complete miracle and a blessing sent straight from heaven, rather than thinking "why me?".

I don't know why we had to go through infertility. Maybe Forrest and I needed to learn patience. Or maybe Charlie needed Caroline right by his side to help him weather the storms that are sure to come his way. We'll never know. Either way, even with this miracle baby, it's likely we will have to cope with infertility again at some point. But for now I will just be grateful. Grateful to have my three little miracles. 

What Not to Say

In response to my previous post about infertility, I had a lot of people comment that they knew someone struggling with the same thing and didn't know how to help them. I wish there was a magic formula I could give you that would help. Or a line I could feed you that you could say to every person in that situation to make them feel better. But there's not. Every person is different. We all handle trials differently. I know a lot of people said things that both helped me and hurt me, so here are my opinions on what you can try to help someone you know who is experiencing the heart-wrenching sorrows of infertility.

Do acknowledge how difficult their trial is. 

Do try to be sensitive. Particularly if you are pregnant, be sensitive when sharing your good news. Tell them individually instead of in front of a group. Give them some time to grieve. Because they are probably happy for you, but I can speak from experience that most likely the first emotion they will feel is anger and frustration. And then they'll feel guilty at feeling that way, because it's not like we don't want you to be happy with your new little family. It's this never-ending spiral of trying to be happy but just being mad/sad/frustrated and then feeling guilty for having those feelings. So give them time. It took me about 2 months to get over it and get to the point where I could even congratulate a close friend or family member on their pregnancy. (For whatever reason, it was easier for me to deal with pregnancies of those who already had kids. It was hardest coming from those who were younger than I am, had been married for less time, and didn't have any kids yet.) So try to be understanding if they cry instead of smiling and congratulating you right away.

Do remember them on Mother's Day and Father's Day. Those days are particularly hard.

Do send notes, cards, flowers, food.. Make sure they know they are in your thoughts and prayers. And do pray for them.

But still, we're all human. We make mistakes. We sometimes walk around thinking we know things, or jumping to conclusions, then opening our mouths and saying things that can be really hurtful. We don't do it intentionally (usually) and I truly think that most people have good intentions. But there are certain things that should never be said. To anyone. The following is my list of never-to-be-saids.

-"Are you expecting?" Please, please never ask ANYONE this question, unless you know the answer is yes. Let them tell you. There are so many couples that struggle with infertility, and asking them if they are pregnant is another painful reminder of everything they don't yet have. Right along with this question goes "When are you going to have kids?" Prior to going through infertility, I would look at couples who had been married for a few years and didn't have children. I hate to admit this, but I sometimes thought that maybe they didn't have kids yet because they enjoyed the comforts of having two incomes and the freedom of being a couple without children. I know, terrible me. It kills me now that I ever thought that, because I have had people tell me that that's what they thought about Forrest and I before we had Charlie and Caroline. And it really hurts me to hear that. Please don't assume that. You never know what people are going through.

-Upon learning that someone is struggling with infertility, or a single woman struggling with never having children, saying "You can have one of mine" or "You can hold mine anytime you want." Don't. Just don't. Don't pretend that your children can fill the void. Although I will say that being an aunt and a primary teacher to perfect little children did bring so much joy to my heart. But It's just not the same. They weren't mine.

-After hearing how hard it was to get pregnant, saying "Wow. I'm just a fertile Myrtle." or "I just have to hug him and I get pregnant." I think people say this just because they really cannot relate at all, and they don't know what else to say. But trust me, it does not help to hear how easy it is for you to multiply and replenish the earth.

-"The clock is ticking." Really?! Who says that? Don't you think that we are very aware of how old we are and that right now is the best time to have children? (For the record - I am not that old. I am not particularly concerned about my biological clock. But I know many who are.) There is no need for the painful reminders of how much time we have left. I assure you, we wanted to be pregnant years ago.

-"I had a friend who got pregnant right after they stopped trying. So maybe you should just relax and not try so hard." Oh sure that's easy to do. Let me just stop thinking about how much I want to be a mom. If only the stress/pain/emotion was just a switch we could turn on and off. Don't minimize what we're going through by saying things like "Just give it time" or "I'm sure everything's fine." Because it's not fine.

-Anything about adoption. We may get there at some point, but most likely we are not ready to think and talk about adoption just yet. One step at a time.

-Don't complain about your pregnancy and/or children. This one bothered me the most, I think. When all you want is to see your belly growing bigger, it is really difficult to be around other women who are pregnant. It is made 100 times worse when they complain about it. And the same thing for those who have children already. When I was dealing with infertility I had to stop getting on Facebook because it was so painful to see posts about my friends' children, and even worse to hear their complaints about them. Be grateful for what you have, because there are so many who are longing to have it too.

Please know that if you have made one of these comments to me, it's ok. I'm over it. But in truth, it probably did hurt. I know my experience with infertility has made me think a lot more about what I say to and think of people. But I'm not perfect either. Let's just all be a little more conscious of those around us and how the things we say can make them feel.

Infertility: Our Story

I always knew I wanted to be a mother. Playing "house" as a little girl, giving my baby dolls bottles of milk and orange juice, and playing barbies for hours on end... Motherhood was like this perfect little fantasy. You grow up, get married, and have a perfect family and everything is wonderful. That's the idea right? As I grew up, my fantasy started to become reality. My first year of college I met my wonderful husband. We only dated a few weeks before I knew he was the man I was going to marry. We were married and sealed together for all eternity in the Provo, Utah LDS Temple less than a year after we met. Things were looking great. I wanted to start a family right away, but I knew it wasn't very realistic since Forrest and I were both on our college track team, and we had a couple of years left to compete before we graduated. So I thought I'd run for those two years, then have a baby as soon as possible afterwards. Great plan, Holly, really great plan.

Too bad our plans don't always go the way we'd like. Correction - too bad our plans rarely go the way we'd like! Forrest was determined to make it through grad school before we had kids. He felt that he needed to have a job secured before we started a family so that he could provide. I understood his point, but it was so frustrating to me to have to wait! We don't ofter argue, but when to start a family was one of the few things that we didn't see eye to eye on. Finally, after being married just over 2 years, we agreed to start trying to have a baby.

I knew that it took most couples approximately 3 months to get pregnant the first time. I was terrified that it would take us longer. We have close family that has struggled with infertility, and I had seen how difficult it can be. Even knowing all of that, I was devastated when I didn't get pregnant right away. I soon learned to hate pregnancy tests and all the emotions that came with seeing yet another negative result. After about a year of getting my hopes up when my period was a day late, I felt a little nauseous, or had to pee a lot - then crying for hours after taking a pregnancy test, we went to see a doctor. They ran a few tests that came back with pretty depressing results. Sitting in the doctors office, hearing her tell us that while most couples have a 20-30% chance of getting pregnant each month, we only had a 3-5% chance... then her instantly switching from the bad news to pushing us to pay $15,000 to do a cycle of In Vitro Fertilization that month. That was bad. Forrest and I both left the clinic feeling hurt, shocked, terrified, disappointed and so much more. I honestly can't describe what it feels like, knowing that teenage girls can get pregnant without even trying but we couldn't. 

Clearly our experience with that doctor and clinic was.. uh... less than ideal. As soon as we left we decided not to go back. We took a step off of the trying-to-get-pregnant train for a few months while we casually asked around for a good doctor that we could trust. As luck would have it, Forrest had a co-worker who highly recommended a doctor in Newport Beach, which was only a few minutes away from our house. We made an appointment for a consultation, and the minute we walked into the office we felt different. At the first office we felt like they wanted our money and didn't really care about us personally. In contrast, Dr. Anderson made us feel like he cared about us individually and truly wanted to do what was best for us. He recommended some next steps for us, which took us a few months to complete, and then we proceded with what he thought was the best course of action. 

In August 2012 we attempted our first of three IUI cycles (artificial insemination). Each of these involved me giving myself 10-15 shots in my stomach, and having my blood drawn and an ultrasound done every other day. After each cycle is complete, you wait 10 days then go in to have your blood taken for a pregnancy test. After the blood is drawn, you go home or to work or wherever, and wait. Wait for the phone call from the nurse that will bring you to tears, either out of joy or sorrow. Three times I got my hopes up. Three months the doctor told me everything looked perfect and there was no reason that it shouldn't be successful. The last of the three times we even thought we might be getting triplets (terrifying thought, but when you are so desperate to have a baby, 3 for the price of 1 doesn't seem like such a bad option). But all three times I got the phone call from the nurse. I pick up the phone anxiously and the first word out of the nurse's mouth is "unfortunately". I don't even listen to the rest of whatever she says. I shed some tears but then try to hide them as best as I can while I resume working, and hope that nobody asks me what the phone call was about. Then I call Forrest on my lunch break and tell him the news. He tried to stay positive but I know how hard it was for him, and for me, to think that there was an end to it all. 

There are some very dark emotions that come while coping with infertility. Every time I saw a pregnant woman my stomach turned. I lived in constant fear that my friends and family who had gotten married after me would get pregnant and have babies before me (something that did come to pass. I cried, selfishly, every time. Not that I wasn't happy for them, but it's a painful reminder of everything I couldn't have). I got frustrated every time I heard women complain about their children. I couldn't handle looking at pictures of people's kids all day, so I rarely looked at facebook. I alienated myself from so many friends because I just couldn't deal with it any other way. I couldn't walk by the kids and baby sections in stores without averting my eyes. Anything related to babies and children was painful.

During those depressing times we found some ways to cope. One of them was walking. Every Sunday we went to the park and walked. For hours. And we just talked. About work, mostly. Occasionally about our trials with infertility, but we tried to avoid that subject as much as possible. I found a quote that helped me a lot. From Elder Neal A. Maxwell, "Faith in God includes faith in His timing." I tried so hard to remind myself of that whenever I started feeling sorry for myself or started thinking negatively. I also received countless cards, notes and gifts from family and friends who knew what we were going through. Those helped me more than the senders will ever know.

Mothers' Days are particularly hard when you want so badly to be a mother but can't for whatever reason. One Mothers Day, a fantastic friend and her sweet little one baked me cookies and brought them to me with a Mothers Day card. I burst into tears and hugged him (I don't think he understood, but it meant the world to me). I am so grateful for wonderful friends and family. Forrest and I would have been much worse off had it not been for them.

After 3 failed IUI's, the doctor recommended we move on to IVF. It was a lot to take in, but we prayed about it and felt like it was the right step for us. It was November 2012. We had been trying to get pregnant for 2 years. Forrest was working over 80 hours/week, I was in the middle of my 2nd season as head coach of the high school soccer team, and we were swamped. But we felt like we needed to do this. So we proceeded. Thankfully we had infertility insurance, but between the lab costs, medication costs and copays we drained our bank account to make it happen. We barely scraped by, but we had enough. I gave myself over 110 shots, some in the stomach but most in the hip. I again had my blood drawn and ultrasounds done every other day. I underwent surgery to remove the eggs before they were fertilized, then a week of bedrest after the procedure was done. I will forever be grateful to my sister who came and waited on me hand and foot that whole week, and my friends who brought us meals and cared for me while I was down. 

During the procedure, the doctor picked out two perfect little embryos, and they became my little Charlie and Caroline. Perfect as can be. 

When the nurse called with the results from my pregnancy test I was at church. I stepped out of Young Women's to answer. "Hello?" "Hi Holly, this is Raquel from Dr. Anderson's office." Then, excitedly, "Guess what?! You're pregnant!" And I burst into tears. I could barely finish my conversation with her I was so overcome with emotions. I tried to call Forrest and frantically searched the halls until I found him. When he saw my tears he at first thought it was bad news. I finally got the good news out and we held eachother and cried. We went out to the car and called family and cried some more. Up to that point, that was the best day of my life. And I didn't even know there were twins until a week later. 

It is the weirdest feeling, having a trial end after years of dealing with it. Getting pregnant was on my mind nonstop for 2 years, and then all the sudden, after one phone call, bam! I'm pregnant. It was a lot to take in, and it took a few days for it to sink in that I was finally going to be a mother. It was a long hard road to get there. And the thought of going through all of that again to get another baby is terrifying. But so so worth it. I would do it all 1,000 times to have a perfect little miracle (or two) in my arms. 

I'm not sharing our story so that you'll feel sorry for us. I'm sharing so that we can all become more aware of what others are going through, and know how it feels when people ask things like "so when are you going to have kids?". Our experience has changed the way I look at others, especially couples without children. I no longer assume that they are just content and comfortable to live on two incomes without any dependents. Because chances are, they would do just about anything to have one more mouth to feed. I'm also sharing because maybe, just maybe our story can help someone else struggling with infertility, just like others helped us on our journey.