Fight the Bitter, Find the Better

(I just have to say--I'm pretty impressed with my title this time. I couldn't have come up with a better name for this post!)

Hello again, readers! This post has been "brewing" in my mind for a while now, so I hope it will do my thoughts justice ;)

So, as I've mentioned several times, moving to Nevada with Lucas has been quite the journey. We've only been here for 4 months now (can you believe that?! Time flies!!) and I can't even begin to explain the roller coaster we've endured. But, as life always does, this roller coaster doesn't stop, and we're learning to stomach each loop it throws us through.

When we first moved down here, things were looking great. Lucas got accepted to the highly accredited program/school he wanted to go to, we got his schedule all figured out for the Fall 2015 semester, our apartment was even better than we imagined when we first looked at it, and somehow we made it all in one piece! (For how the people drive here, that's saying a lot..). So, things were looking promising. We had made that giant leap of faith, and it was appearing that everything had "fallen into place". Well. Then came our jobs. As many of you know, where you work has a pretty big impact on your overall well being. Employment not only gives you an income, but it can give you a sense of accomplishment and fulfill the desire to contribute to society. All good things, right? The restaurant in Idaho did just those things for us. We even made some pretty great friends along the way. When we transferred down to Nevada, our first day at our new location proved that this particular restaurant was not where we were supposed to be. Of course we were discouraged. I mean, everything was going SO well, and then the only thing to keep that happy-go-lucky wagon rolling was our job...which was awful. I hate to complain, because it definitely kept us afloat for the few months before we made a transition. All that aside though, within the first few weeks of working at this new location, Lucas and I knew we needed to find something else--and it needed to be quick.

Not even a month later, disaster hit Lucas and I again. (Now, I have to say, I've had a really hard time deciding if I wanted to share this or not. I've gone back and forth and decided that sharing this detail is important in understanding where I'm coming from in this post. I really hope this doesn't come across as a sob story, or a "please pity me" post, because that is a far cry from what I want it to be.) Before we moved to Nevada, Lucas and I thought maybe adding another member to our dynamic duo would be a good idea. A week after we settled in, we found out I was expecting. Being that we were slightly freaking out about the job situation, we were pretty nervous about a new-baby-on-the-way situation. Nonetheless, we were excited and even spent one evening perusing the bible dictionary for boy names (I was pretty convinced it was going to be a boy, Lucas was betting a girl). Anyway, the onslaught of early pregnancy symptoms hit with a vengeance (apparently the first time around wasn't justice for "morning sickness"). The usual things; constant headache, nausea, sleeplessness, and the undying battle of keeping it a secret. We decided to keep it to ourselves (and our parents) until the 8/10 week appointment when we would be given the all-clear to start telling people.

Well, just three days shy of this "all-clear" stage, something happened that I can't quite put words to. Miscarriage seems too general, but Ripping-My-Heart-Out-Pain sounds too dramatic. Somewhere in between those descriptions, Lucas and I lost the little form of life that was all too promising of being a child. I know it's common for a lot of women, and I had heard of many cases, but I can tell you my friends that there is literally no explanation to how a miscarriage feels. Unless you yourself have experienced one, there is no possible way to convey that pain.

At first, I was sad. Really sad. I remember holding my stomach begging it to stop getting rid of the small life. I then tried to reassure myself that there must have been something wrong, so it would be better this way in the long run. Mother Nature knows best, right? After days of trying to shove down the pain, put on a fake smile, and serve pasta to yet another non-tipping guest, something in me snapped. Maybe it was the other all-too-promising job lead that fell through, or the fact we weren't able to get time off/go home to see family that set me off, but whatever it was, I couldn't take it anymore. I was angry. I was SO mad. How could my body be so generous enough to create a healthy baby for a loving couple, but then when I had endured the pain of placement and bettering myself for Lucas, it couldn't fathom giving me a child of my own? I won't lie, I was pretty upset. I am a little ashamed at myself for feeling that way, but it took a little bit to get over that. By the end of my anger week (or two) I guess I hit the last stage of grief. Emptiness? Loneliness? Defeated? I realized that I was grateful my body did what I didn't know needed to be done. Something must have happened during the process that wasn't going to be healthy for the possible baby. No, God wasn't punishing us, and no, we didn't do anything wrong. For whatever strange, unknown, frustrating reason, that little life just wasn't going to be.

It was around this time that I decided to apply at whatever job I could find (mostly at credit unions). I had accepted the miscarriage, but I knew I needed to get out of that awful job we hated. By some odd miracle, I got a call a few days later from a credit union I had applied to online. I didn't have any connections, I didn't even have any banking experience, but they called me. I went in for the interview, and a few days later (as Lucas and I were pulling in to our other job) they called back and offered me the position. We were so happy!! There was a silver lining! There was happiness in our future! We put in our two weeks that night, then I started about a week later. I've had quite a handful of jobs since I entered the work force at 16, and this has been (by far) my favorite job. Just three weeks after that, Lucas put himself out there as well and got an on-campus job that fits nice and cozy with my work schedule. God didn't forget about us, He just needed us to hold out a tiny bit longer. And just like that, things started working out again.

There was one point, I think it was around the time I wrote the Somewhere in Between blog, where I wanted to move back home. I wanted to just pay the early-lease-termination fees and leave. I was done. Lucas was done. But something in us told us to stay. Even though things looked unbearable, we needed to stay just a little longer. So we did. Then I got my favorite job, and Lucas got a good one too.

I've heard before that in life, God never gives us trials we can't handle. While that's a comforting statement, I have to beg to differ. God gives us so many trials that we can't humanly handle on our own. It is through our Savior Jesus Christ and His Atonement that we are able to handle and overcome trials. The hard things in life weaken us to the point of giving up, and through Christ's redeeming power, we can move forward. We can become strong again through Him, through Christ. I know that beyond any shadow of a doubt.

I love the Gospel, and the marvelous things it teaches. I love attending the temple and feeling the love of my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I'm so grateful for my dreamy husband Lucas and the wonderful man he is. I love him so very much, and I'm so inexplicably grateful he's mine for eternity. I know that I could not have done any of the hard things in my life without my Savior and His everlasting Atonement.

Even though we lost the hope of a little one, I know Lucas and I will have a family someday. Whether that be soon or five years from now, I don't know. I do know it will happen, though, and it will be the best thing ever. :)

Thank you for reading!

-Allison S. Dahl

For My Bear

If love could be defined by a song or a rhyme,

We'd probably hear about it all the time.

Oh, wait, I guess we do...

That's why I'm always singing it to you.

But, unfortunately, "love" isn't a strong enough word

To describe what I feel for you,

How absurd!

I've searched and I've tried

To find something that would suffice,

Sometimes it even kept me up at night.

There has to be some way

To explain how I love you more and more and More each day

Some sentiment that says,

"You mean the world to me", and 

Nothing less

How could I say, "you're the most caring person I know" 

And have it mean so much more than any one phrase can show?

I wish there was a term

To explain how you make me burn...

With love for you, of course!

I didn't mean to that to sound any worse ;)

Oh what a pity that nothing in the English Language describes 

How much better you've made my life.

While I won't stop searching, true,

I guess "I love you, Lucas" will do.

-Allison S. Dahl