Mountains to Climb
I've thought about writing this post for some time now, not quite knowing how to put my feelings into words. I guess I'll just start here-- I'm climbing a major mountain. I didn't see it coming, and yet, I'm right in the middle of it. It feels really steep, really unsteady, really uncertain. I can't quite see the top yet, but if I look back, I can see where I started. I'm at that point where giving up seems like a good option, or at least taking a break to catch my breath. On both sides of me are miles and miles of hilly terrain, and the same goes for what's in front of and behind me. There are so many ways that I could climb this one-- do I scale to the right a bit or veer left? Should I go through the trees to get some security from the potential storm ahead or do I continue hiking with minimal coverage to feel the rising sun on my face? So many options. So many miles to go.
From where I stand, I look up and can see a whole myriad of people who are riding the ski lift up this mountain. I am overcome with emotion because of the fact that getting up this mountain seems so easy, so effortless for them, and yet, I am barely breathing during my travels. It takes everything in me to not want to jump on that lift with them, but I know I can't. So I remove those thoughts, put my head down, and continue to walk.
I start to think. "What prepared me to climb this mountain?" I start to doubt that I can do it. I start to question, "Why me? Why this? This is so unfair." I slip. I'm on unsteady ground. I look around me and at first glance, I'm all alone. I continue trekking up the hill, and as I do, I feel the soft and gentle touch of someones hand on my back. I turn around; It's Mitchell. He smiles, takes my pack to ease the burden that's placed between my shoulders, grabs my hand, and we continue. Together. Man, I'm grateful that I have him to climb this mountain with.
Although I know I am not alone, I still feel ill prepared for the climb that lies ahead of me. "I had it all mapped out in front of me; knew just where I wanted to go. But life decided to change my plans and I found a mountain in the middle of my road." This is a mountain that I never thought I would have to climb. This is a mountain that I did not want to climb. And considering the mountains that I have previously climbed in my life, I really, genuinely did not see this one coming. I guess you can't ever predict your trials.
You guessed it-- Miscarriage. Miscarriage is the mountain that I am climbing right now. It's brutal. I don't feel like myself. I lost a part of me when we lost our baby. I don't know what it's going to take to make me feel like I am mentally, emotionally, and physically capable of continuing to climb the mountain (because I know that the hike isn't over quite yet. After all, I'm only half way up). I'm surviving, but that's just it. Some days I feel like I'm hanging by a thread, and other days I'm ready to conquer the world (or in my case, this mountain). It's the back and forth that makes me feel like I'm never going to get to the top. It's the not knowing whether today is going to be a good day or a sad day. It's the un-predictability of the next few months, next few years that lie ahead, and the hopelessness amidst the feelings of optimism for our future family. It really is the hardest mix of emotions.
Obviously today was one of the more sad and hard days. I've been extremely busy and frantic and I think that's what brings it out of me. Not every day is like this, but I think that it's important to document even the bad times amidst the good. The times we trip, slip, and fall throughout the journey before we successfully make it to the top of our own mountains. Freak. I want to just take a sled or a tube down this one and call it good. Who needs that top view?
As I am writing this in bed after a long day, a long week, Mitchell brings it to my attention that there's a Mormon Message called Mountains to Climb. I promise that my title was not plagiarized, however, what a fitting match. I've watched this message a few times before, but it wasn't until recently that I began to really resonate with the words and teachings within. Henry B. Eyring teaches that "finding faith in the Lord Jesus Christ will help us have the power to endure and overcome even the hardest trials in life." How fitting. Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ will help us on our journey to climb whatever mountain we may be facing.
I think I'll have some better perspective if and when I get to the top of this mountain that I am climbing. Maybe my questions will be answered and my promptings and impressions will make sense. Maybe the sadness and confusion will be worth it. Maybe I'll finally meet up with those people who so gracefully rode the ski lift up the same mountain that I had to walk and stumble up. Maybe they'll feel the same about another mountain that they're climbing, a different mountain than mine. Maybe it'll just be Mitchell and I up there enjoying the view. I can't wait for that, but I know that until then I have to keep climbing. I have to keep going even though some days I just don't feel like I can.
I'm climbing a major mountain. I can't quite see the top yet, but if I look back, I can see where I started. I remember how painful it was down at the bottom, and I can only imagine the joy, happiness, and understanding that making it to the top may bring. For that reason, I'll keep climbing. To find whatever is waiting for me at the top of the mountain peak.