Now this is a long one and now you can't say I didn't warn you. If you want the gist of this blog without having to read every paragraph then skip down to the last 3 or 4. This is also a very compressed version of this story; I left out many small, but important details about my spiritual growth, but it all comes to the same end.
For those of you who don't know, or may not remember, I grew up as an "Army Brat" and my family moved several times until I was 10. The last move to Sierra Vista, AZ wasn't the first time I lived in a desert, but that last and final move made something manifest in me; depression. (Depression and desert seem to go hand in hand with me from that point on, however) I did not know until college that the depression I was experiencing in my second semester of my freshman year was not the first time I was plagued by it. It certainly wasn't going to be my last either, unfortunately.
It would come and go through the next year and a half till I met Stephen Quinn, the returned missionary. (I state it that way because it wasn't the first time we had met; that is another story.) We married less than a year after that meeting and it wasn't till another year had passed till my depression threatened everything. I'm a Mormon and being raised in the church and going through 6 years in the Young Women's program makes one dream of getting married in the Temple (sometimes as young as 18) and having children immediately.
Though I managed to outgrow the "married at 18" phase, thank goodness (no offense meant to those who have), I did not outgrow the "need", or "desire", if you will, to have children immediately. One of my sisters was married at 19 and had her first at 20. I was married at 21, so why not have my first by 22? To make matters worse I got sick. At that point my depression not only took a new low, it kept spiraling downward. It was a road I wish upon no one. Unfortunately I was pulling Stephen down with me, though his spiral wasn't depression for him, it was watching me fall apart more each day.
At age 23 things only got worse. I couldn't conceive; that much was clear, but no answers as to why. The real kicker was how many others who were giving us their glad tidings of expecting. Many friends were pregnant, and even 2 of Stephen's brother's were expecting. All of my siblings were expecting; my brother with his first, one sister with her third, as well as my other two sisters with their first; both of them married within that year. My sister that was the last to make her announcement had to tell Stephen so that somehow it wouldn't make things worse for me. I hit rock bottom. A few of the months that followed I actually don't remember and knowing where I was at that time I know now that I don't need to remember.
I did however find a doctor so amazing, so caring and concerned that he was bound and determined to make sure I wouldn't go another year without Stephen and I expecting our own. He happened to be an old friend of my family; he and my dad attended medical school together and his children and my siblings are approximately the same ages. I know I wasn't convinced that this would be the answer because I had completely given up; I only kept going because of Stephen. Of course I needed far more convincing when one last pregnancy test was taken as I was given my prescription to help with my infertility came back positive. Even when I was uncontrollably puking daily at 7 weeks through 15 weeks I still was skeptical.
My emotions were all over the place at that point. Though Sierra Vista has been the only place in all of Arizona I actually liked living in, I wanted away from the desert. Stephen had to drop out of school (again) because of my health (again) and I had to stop working because I was so sick and weak. Stephen had to find a way to be the sole provider and change his career mindset; being a music teacher just wasn't an option at this time. He did however find a new career that would move us to Utah. I was excited.
That excitement was short lived. We lived in Utah for 2 1/2 years and it was spent in depression. When Franklin was a year old we feared it would take another 2 years before we could hope for another. Of course Lisette came the following May (a month early) after months of excruciating pain. My second pregnacy was traumatizing for myself as well as Stephen. To make matters worse her pregnancy ended in postpartum depression. When Lisette was 10 months old we moved back to Thatcher, AZ; the most difficult decision I ever made.
My postpartum persisted. Being back in the desert was definitely taking it's toll. There was an upside; I was able to make friends again and renew some old friends from my college days and family was close by. It wasn't till sometime after Lisette's second birthday did my postpartum finally fade away. I tried really hard to make myself happy there. As this year, 2012, kept moving on I found it more difficult to put behind my depression.
After losing Rizzo it became even more difficult for me. It was more difficult for me to allow myself to be truly happy. Then an opportunity came out of no where. Stephen was presented with a job opportunity in Denver. We prayed more than we ever have before. Stephen had such a great feeling about one job interview in particular. Our choice was simple, but the move not so simple. We didn't have the ability to make the move immediately but we knew it was time and it was the right thing to do.
It took 3 months to make our move complete which was just this past Sunday, the 25th. However the kids and I moved up to live with Stephen, without our things or cats, after nearly 2 months of being apart. I instantly fell in love with the area, more so than I did the first time I saw it with Stephen. No matter how hard things were (being without our things, cats, not having any family or friends near by) I still had this feeling of being home, feeling whole. Of course now that we have our things it finally feels complete.
Our trip to retrieve our things was a combination of events. My cousin was getting married and if you know about the Reed family/relatives you know we all grew up so close that it was as if we were extended brothers and sisters and not mere cousins. The following week was Thanksgiving and it also happened to be my 30th birthday; the 4th time in my whole life my birthday is actually on Thanksgiving. All I wanted for my birthday was to be with family, especially since Stephen and I had never spent Thanksgiving with my parents since we were married. As a side note, no, I have not been depressed about turning 30; I personally find it to be a bit sexy (yes, you read that right).
It was a great week. It went by so very quickly and I got to see so much family. During my last two days I felt this impending doom; the doom/depression that would always hit after visiting family and returning home. It was starting to make me anxious so I asked Stephen for a blessing. I did feel a little better but I was still afraid of what would hit when we got back home.
It was a long drive. You have to remember we were hauling our things up there. We had decided to sell half of our belongings so we could rent a large trailer and have to pay the gas for only one vehicle driving home. Because we were hauling such a heavy load with my car and going uphill most of the way, the first half of our journey was 9 hours (compared to the normal 6 hours and 15 mins, give or take). We didn't want to push ourselves nor get too upset. The cats eventually calmed down, their fur all over the place and the kids were better than expected. We got in to Albuquerque between 9 and 10 that night and were so happy to crash into comfy beds.
We got back in the car the next morning, no rushing, and headed on our way home, only 8 hours by some miracle. The cats took a little time getting settled back down again and the kids needed more entertainment than the day before. Needless to say I was feeling overwhelmed and I wasn't even the one driving. Once we crossed the Colorado border I felt a thrill, the same thrill I felt the first time we crossed that same way before but this time with familiarity. That thrill didn't stop the whole way home.
We took our exit in Castle Rock to the highway that leads into Parker from the south. I was so happy to be back. Yes, I miss my parents and all my siblings, but I had realized something as we were driving through town; I missed home and I was happy to be back. This is the first time I have felt this way. Sure it always feels good to drive through Sierra Vista to get to my parents and see them again (more so now that I live far more than 2 hours away) but this was something different.
True, we had to downsize our home from a VERY spacious 3-ish bed 2 bath home with a huge yard to a 2 bed, 2 bath apartment with a porch. I had feared that it would bother me, bring me down. Granted not everything is unpacked yet, nor does everything have a place to go either (in need of shelves and haven't put up pictures yet either) but I feel good, looking around this cozy apartment and knowing I am right where I am meant to be. We don't plan on making this small apartment our permanent residence but it got us here; it gave us home.
During the stressful time of deciding to move and waiting to move I was writing a very dear friend who told me "Remember to bloom where you're planted." I'm definitely starting to bloom and I think this is going to be the best I have ever seen myself yet.
