inside my infertility

The words, “I’m pregnant,” evoke contradictory emotions as I hear them. Genuine happiness for the speaker. Genuine sorrow and pity for myself. Another friend, sister, or relative entering that sacred sisterhood that I would join in a heartbeat if I only knew how to convince my body to let me. 

Sometimes hearing the news of another pregnancy fills me with disappointment, mixed with a healthy dose of guilt and shame … for feeling disappointed. The injustice of my suffering engulfs me. How can I NOT feel happy for my dear, highly capable friends who have been given the opportunity to parent? On the other hand, how does God allow so many children to enter the world to mothers who are unprepared or unwilling and denies me the privilege, even when I’ve prepared my whole life for that ennobling purpose? 

These feelings creep up and then they pass. They creep up when I hear someone say, “We tried for a few months to get pregnant and the wait was so difficult.” (A. FEW. MONTHS? In the back of my mind: “Try waiting for three years…”). They creep up at baby showers when the time comes for each woman in the room to give advice to the new mother. (In the back of my mind: “What kind of advice can I contribute?”). They creep up with little comments like, “I never knew real, Christ-like love until I had my first child.” (In the back of my mind: “Will I never get to experience real, Christ-like love?).

But those feelings pass. Ryan and I are enjoying this time that we have to spend just with each other, and we have loved the flexibility of our current situation. I find immense joy and satisfaction as a Kindergarten teacher.

So, unexplained infertility--and the contradictory emotions that come with it--is complex. It’s difficult … even though it’s not a life threatening illness and doesn’t feel that hard at times. There are no visible side effects and my life is basically normal. I suppose it is a little lonely … because nobody talks about it (even if they have struggled with fertility, too). Infertility is a deep expectation unmet that is totally beyond my control. And, I’ll admit … it hurts a little bit.

But I believe that the purpose of this life is to become more like God. AND if I am to be like God, I cannot live forever in fear that I will face a trial that will hurt. Christ suffered everything so that He could sit with me in my suffering. He’s been there. He knows me and will give me peace. I know I am already a “mother” to so many, and I know that motherhood is in my future. That’s pretty exciting! Because of Christ, whatever heartache I experience along the way will be for my good.

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart … and he shall direct thy paths.”

life recently, ft. Ryan

Blogging is so interesting ... because I don't write when I feel like I have nothing to write because life is dull and I don't write when I feel like I have too much to write because life is so exciting. Recently, I haven't been blogging for the latter. In fact, I don't think I've had a period of time that was this exciting for a long time. This can be attributed to a new character in the Molly Mormon Saga: Ryan.

World, meet Ryan.

As you can tell from the picture, he's handsome. What you might not be able to discern from this picture is the vibrancy and color that he manages to weave into my life every. single. day. I am overwhelmed by the blessing that he is in my life. I want to give the world a small taste of how wonderful this man is, but I'm struggling to find the words. Because a descriptive list of his positive attributes would probably stretch longer than the Wall of China ... and because he's going to be featured in many blog posts to come ... maybe I'll just share a couple of stories to fill you in on the strokes of luck that led to the happiness that is life recently (ft. Ryan).

JUNE 2016

Twenty-four sweaty and enthusiastic teenagers are playing one of the many games found in the EFY handbook. They don't understand the relevance of being captained through a "mine-field" of their peers, but they are thoroughly enjoying it. I look over at my co-counselor and motion that we should wrap up the game. He calls everyone to attention with a whistle and the participants gather without missing a beat. They respect him and they listen to his explanation of the game with rapt attention.

Even though I didn't know it then, I think I fell a little bit in love with Ryan that day. I didn't know that he had a girlfriend at the time. To be honest, I didn't project any kind of future with him because I was going back up to BYU-Idaho after finishing EFY. But I saw the respect of the teenagers and thought ... man, I hope I can end up with someone like this someday.

NOVEMBER 2016

I dial the number of my friend in Provo. I call with a couple of intentions ... partly to catch up, but mostly to find out what kind of housing is available in Provo for the winter semester. After EFY, I have been the worst at keeping in touch with the friends I made over the summer. I assume that it's just a normal characteristic of the summer camp experience. This friend, however, keeps popping up, especially because we have mutual friends that attend BYU-Idaho. After some chit-chat about the weather and classes and life, I ask if he would be able to scout out some housing. He contacts me shortly after with a couple of vacancies in his ward. The conversation is brief but pleasant.

Even though I didn't know it then, I think I feel a little bit in love with Ryan that day. I wasn't sure what my future was going to look like. I had accepted my admission to BYU and was planning to transfer in the winter, but there were so many unknown variables. I didn't know where I was going to live, what I was going to study, or how life was going to look as soon as I left the security of Rexburg, Idaho. I was dating a great guy, but I was unsure of how that relationship would pan out with an impending period of long distance looming on the horizon. But I knew that I would have at least one friend in Provo, so I felt a little less apprehensive about the change.

JANUARY 2017

I trudge through the snow to my Portuguese class, trying desperately to avoid the embarrassment that comes from slipping on campus. I can feel the excitement of being in a new place with new opportunities being replaced by feelings of loneliness and feelings of inadequacy. As I climb the stairs, I see a familiar figure. We're both late to our 8 o'clock class, but he makes time to talk to me for a little bit longer than a "Hey, how are you?" and I make time to talk for a little bit longer than, "So, where are you headed?" We part ways.

This experience happened a couple of times my first semester at BYU. Even though I didn't know it then, I think I fell a little bit in love with Ryan those days. No matter the time of day, Ryan had an energy that was contagious. I didn't expect to run into him on the way to class, but when I did, I was always pleasantly surprised by his good humor and his genuine interest.

JUNE 2017-OCTOBER 2017

Random encounters. I see him at the MTC. I see him walking to the library on campus.

Even though I didn't know it then, I think I fell a little bit in love with Ryan those days. Looking back, I feel like those little encounters were just enough to maintain our friendship. Despite the fact that we only had general, "How are you?" conversations once every couple of months, I continued to be impressed with Ryan.

My summer was fraught with relationship drama, and I went into the semester with a jaded outlook on the Provo dating culture. I felt helpless when it came to my love life and began focusing my energy to building a career, a path that was a little less ambiguous and that I felt I had control over. I started planning to go to China for the first half of 2018. I began making plans to graduate ASAP and then begin a Master's degree.

One day, I was praying to know what I should do with my life and I found myself saying, "Heavenly Father ... I just want to find a good boy. Please help me to find a good boy." My prayer surprised me, especially considering the fact that I was trying to figure out if I should pay the deposit to go to China or not. What was even more surprising was that Ryan texted me the next day with an invitation to go to a concert. I wanted to go ... but I couldn't. So we set up a date to a hockey game later that week ... and I fell, more than a little bit, in love with Ryan.

And so began the happiest period of my life that continues to this day.

Ryan and I have had all kinds of adventures the past couple of months. We've gone hiking. We've sung karaoke. We've run miles and miles and miles together. We've read books and hammocked (sometimes at the same time). We've road tripped to Washington. We've gone to concerts and plays. We've attended hockey games and have played broom hockey. He's taught me to rock climb and to appreciate soccer and to enjoy life to the fullest. We've watched all kinds of movies. We've eaten so many creative, college-budget friendly meals together. We've seen the Christmas lights on Temple Square. We've laughed and laughed and laughed.

Though we've had so many random experiences the past year and a half, I can't point to any one point of our friendship/relationship and say, "That was the moment it happened. That was when I fell in love." But I think that's the most adventurous part of dating Ryan. No matter what we do, I've come to realize that I fall a little bit more in love with him every day. I'll be the first to admit that this is beyond cheesy. It's beyond cliche. Words cannot describe what it's like to experience so much of life with a single person.

Get ready for it, world. Blog posts of incoherent bliss are surely ahead of us, but I hope that life recently (ft. Ryan) is here to stay. :)

the perfect offering

I haven't blogged in a while ...

And this is where I put in a ton of excuses like, "Oh, you know, life is just crazy!" or "Eh, I don't really have anything worth saying."

All excuses aside, the truth is that I hesitate blogging because I want to wait for the prime opportunity. I want to have a flurry of thoughts that I can't HELP but share with the world. I want to be inspirational. In short, I don't write because I'm worried about delivering anything less than perfection.

A casual glance at decisions in my life would reveal a bit of this same tendency. Cafe Rio lines are about the worst thing in the world because I have time to think about the big decision that is "What will I eat today?" and I fear that if I don't buy the perfect thing, I will be doomed to a meaningless existence for the rest of my life. I've spent a lot of time in my past life waiting for perfect conditions in order to become a perfect person. I sometimes hesitate to put my all into something until I am sure that it will give me the perfected results I desire.

I'm learning that there is no such thing as that perfect moment. There is no such thing as a perfect person. There is no such thing as the perfect plate at Cafe Rio (because, let's be real, every plate at Cafe Rio is perfect). I'm also learning that imperfection is beauty. It is interesting and exhilarating. It is a growth experience, because every imperfection that I live is a chance for the Savior to reach out with mercy and power in order to perfect what I have to offer. That is how His light is able to enter my life.

So, I blog this out to the universe. Not because this was a perfect moment to blog ... but because I want to take every opportunity that I can to help people to understand that the Savior's grace is for EVERY SINGLE IMPERFECT PERSON! He is strength. He is support. He is perfection.

a summer in review

The air is crisp and my sweaters are coming out of hibernation. Pumpkin spice candles and drives through the colorful canyons are just around the corner ... and I am ecstatic. At the changing of seasons, however, I can't help but take a minute to reflect on what an amazing summer I had this year.

This summer, I read. I read books that enlightened. I read books that entertained. I read books from my childhood. I read books that kept me awake at night because I was so fired up about the ideas that they gave me. These books played a huge role in the development of my soul. For that, I am grateful.

This summer, I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran. Earlier in the year, I set a goal to run a half-marathon and put in some half-hearted effort during the semester to achieve said goal. With my new summer schedule of only working part-time, I found huge chunks of unoccupied time. Running long distances helped me to fill that time, but it also helped me in so many other ways. Running a half-marathon taught me that I can push myself and endure. For that, I am grateful.

This summer, I climbed mountains (both literally and figuratively). I saw the beautiful world that is out my back door. I explored by myself and with people that have become some of my dearest friends. I faced challenges by simply going forward, one step at a time. I learned how capable I am of doing hard things and being able to still appreciate the views that surround me. For that, I am grateful.

This summer, I loved. I loved my missionaries that I had the opportunity to teach in the MTC. I loved my family members and was able to spend quality time at home. I loved my friends and roommates with all of my heart. I hosted karaoke parties and ate completos in good company. I used to have a hard time defining what I like to do ... but I learned this summer that my dearest and deepest hobby is loving others. For that, I am grateful.

This summer, I learned to trust Heavenly Father. Again and again and again, I learn the same lesson. At the beginning of the summer, I had to decide whether or not I would work continue to work for the MTC or if I would quit for the summer to do EFY again. Even though making the decision between two good things might seem like a silly thing to have anxiety about, it was such a difficult decision for me. I ultimately felt like I needed to stay at the MTC. I wasn't sure why, but I knew that that was the decision that Heavenly Father wanted me to make ... even with that knowledge, I cried as I declined my EFY contracts.

However, like always, Heavenly Father could see so much more than I could. I had so many incredible experiences this summer that would have been impossible had I decided to work for EFY. I wouldn't have been able to see my brother in the MTC as he prepared for his two year mission in Poland. I wouldn't have been able to be on our ward Ultimate Frisbee team. I wouldn't have been able to explore or read or run. I couldn't possibly have foreseen those experiences in April when I made the decision, but Heavenly Father could. He knows me. For that, I am grateful.

my doors are unlocked

My beat up pick-up truck winks at night ... one of the headlights is broken. The engine sputters and shuts off randomly while I'm driving. The defrost heater works (hallelujah), but the AC is long gone. However, I call it Charity because it's been going for 278,000 miles and it still hasn't failed. Even though Charity is a weird little car, I love her. She's been good to me.

One morning a couple of months ago, I woke up to find that someone had broken into Charity. Nothing was broken, but the scent of cigarette smoke and my more-than-normally disheveled glove box clued me into the fact that an unknown person was rifling through my car.

Creepy, right? I was definitely creeped out by this situation. Someone that I didn't know had been in my car! The incident was a complete surprise to me.

But, at the same time, it wasn't unexpected ... after all, I leave my doors unlocked.

For you city-folk that are crying out in protest, I promise that there is a little explanation to my madness. When I lived nestled into the rolling hills of Missouri, my dad attached the keys to the stick ... because I had (ahem ... have) the uncanny ability to lose everything. I trusted my neighbors, I trusted my friends at school, I trusted the random people of Walmart. So I left the keys in the car and I left it unlocked, often with the windows rolled down.

That habit stuck with me when I migrated to Rexburg. I still trusted my neighbors, my friends at school, and the random people of Walmart. I started carrying a purse (so the keys being attached to the stick was no longer necessary), but I left the doors unlocked. I practically invited people to steal my car as a favor to me ... but nothing happened.

I guess that's why the random betrayal of trust in the dead of night was so unexpected. As I installed a new air freshener and wiped down Charity's cracked windshield, I realized that I had a choice to make. I could either be extra vigilant in locking my car every time I left it ... or I could decide to find renewed trust and keep living my life as if nothing had ever happened.

I'm learning that my heart is a little bit like my truck. It's a little bit battered. It's a little bit weird. But I love it. It's been good to me and has kept me moving for the past 22 years. I engage my heart in everything that I do, a quality that has brought me a lot of satisfaction. I try to keep my heart unlocked and to love the people that I come into contact with as much as possible.

Most of the time, leaving my heart open has brought me more happiness than I could have ever imagined. Loving people has become my hobby. There are times, however, that I wake up to find my heart in a similar condition to my disheveled glove box. The experience stinks worse than the smell of cigarette smoke. The choice that I face after those moments is similar to the choice I faced after the break-in ... I can choose to lock my heart and withhold love ... or to find renewed trust and keep living life unlocked.

You can guess which option I chose in both scenarios.

My truck (and my heart) is still unlocked.