First iron infusion

Well, due to insurance stuff, I didn't get my first infusion until yesterday.  It was a weird experience.  I was the youngest one there, and most of the other people were there getting infusions of chemotherapy.  It was sad.  I just kept thinking, this could be so much worse!  And I wondered what kind of cancer they all had.  I hope I will never have to go to one of those infusion labs for any other reason than iron. So I sat there for 1 1/2 hrs with a needle in my arm and felt that pleasant cold tingle of fluid flowing into my veins.  I've about had it with needles, I'm telling you.  Next time I go in (next week), I will only have to stay for 30 min.  But they had to do a loading dose this time and then observe me for adverse reactions for awhile.  I felt dizzy but I think that had to do with the needles.
No magical rush of energy.  In fact, there was no difference at all.  But this morning!  I am happier, and more excited for the day.  I slept like a slug.  I don't know what my hemoglobin level is today but it must be higher because I'm feeling better.  And I cannot even begin to tell you how happy that makes me!  I'm still not allowed to do much for another two weeks, but if this gets me off the couch and feeling more upbeat, then I can wait for the rest.
And the ablation went well, the recovery was not hard and didn't require a lot of pain meds at all.  I am just excited to not have periods anymore!  I'll save some money on feminine supplies, that's for sure!
As I do more and more research, and talk to the hematologist more, I am realizing just how serious this has been for me.  Normal hemoglobin levels for women range from 12 to 18.  For the past month, since we tested for it the first time, my level has bounced between 8.3 and 8.9.  If you hit 8.0, they hospitalize you and do a blood transfusion, no questions asked.  The problem is the lack of red blood cells, which carry oxygen to all the organs.  Especially the brain and the heart.  I have been at high risk of heart attack and stroke.  I have worked with 4 different doctors on this problem.  All of them have ordered me to stay down and not do anything to increase my heart rate at all.  Even so, while I was driving on the freeway last week, I very nearly passed out and had to pull off for 30 min to rest.  I have spent most of the past month on the couch, watching "19 Kids and Counting" (say what you want, those Duggars are just good people) and "Say Yes to the Dress".  But trying to hold myself together in spite of zero energy, depression, and insomnia.  I feel for my family. Even a tiny improvement is a big deal for me!
Two weeks.  In two weeks I should be just about back to normal.  Yeah!  Here's hoping for no complications!

And, we finally got Meg's final travel itinerary, she will be arriving home on Dec. 4 at 11:25am at LAX.  I can't believe it is finally here!  So happy, and so excited to have energy again so I can get ready for her.

Dying of anemia, what?

Remember last post when I complained about how painful my runs have gotten?  And how I wasn't sure I was going to be able to run that half marathon I signed up for?  Turns out that I am not the loser that I thought I was.  I'm not out of shape.  I am severely anemic.  I had a full blood test last week and when the results came back, my doctor called me and started quizzing me all about bleeding - when I told him I have really heavy periods, he said, "call your OB/GYN, you need a hysterectomy."  Which scared me to death.  Anyway, after visiting various doctors, I am scheduled for an iron infusion tomorrow and uterine ablation surgery on Friday.  My doctor ordered me to stop running for at least a month.  I can't even run up my stairs.  The low hemoglobin really taxes your heart, and he said that I could pass out at any time.  Worst case scenario, heart attack.  Watch out for that anemia, its a doozy.  I just can't wait for everything to level out.  I want to feel good again.

Still so blessed

Its been awhile, I know.  But I've only had a few things going on to keep me busy so…

This new house is a dream come true.  Honestly.  I know how blessed we are and exactly where all our blessings come from.  We are grateful to our Father in Heaven and try our very hardest to serve Him in every way we can.  We don't know exactly why He has blessed us so much but we are more grateful than words can express.
So anyway, we are super house-poor but its worth it.  It feels so great to own the house we're living in!  It feels so great to be able to make any changes we want and to be able to decorate however we want.  And not have to worry about waiting on some landlord to fix things…if I never rent again, it will be too soon!  (Plus our landlord tried to stick it to us on our deposit, it was the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of and we threatened small claims court because we discovered that they had broken a few laws.  We got most of it back then.  But it is a long story)
Also this house is just so beautiful.  I could not have designed a better floor plan and I love it!  We are putting in the front and side yards right now, and leaving the back for a year from now.  Nobody swims in the winter anyway!  When it all gets finished, I will post some pictures.  If I can take any decent ones.

Adam - wellll, he has had some ups.  I can't say downs, because he has only been a bit manic.  Funny how that bipolar usually shows up as mania now.  I know he did go through a pretty bad depression but for the past 6 months or so, he has been manic.  We had it all under control until we moved, and all that stress tipped him over the edge.  Then we immediately took him up to college…I fully expected him to go manic with all that HUGE change, and he did.  I was a basket case at first, but all the plans that we made before leaving worked and we got him all stabilized long distance.  He is doing great now.  Except that the increased meds make him so sleepy in the mornings…he has missed some classes and exams…I check his email now and again, because I am a stalker-mom, and I saw that he had written emails to his teachers telling them about the bipolar and meds and asking if he could make up the exams.  He even got a letter from his doctor to show the teachers.  He hadn't told me about any of that and I was pretty upset because I figured it was just a typical college student, staying up too late and sleeping in.  I knew I needed to talk to him about it, maybe even get after him about it, but I have to admit that I was pretty impressed that he had taken care of it all on his own and his letters to his teachers were very well-written.  Anyway, I decided to pray about how to handle it and waited for a few hours for the answer to come.  I felt prompted to just ask him about side effects and how his meds were working, and hope he would take the chance to tell me all about it.  I did not approach him in anger.  It was super effective, and he told me about all of it on his own, and I praised him for the way he handled it and we had one of the best conversations that we've had in a very long time!  I was so grateful for the Lord's guidance in the way to approach him!  But the results are, now I am back to waking him up every morning, long distance.  Criminy.  If it wasn't a med thing, I would be mad about it because he is a big boy now.  But he can't really control it so here I go.  I suspect that I will be playing the mommy role in Adam's life for a very long time.  But its a small thing, and since I'm up already, not a big deal.  Plus, it allows me to keep in touch with him more than I was before…we actually went days without communicating at all (I was trying to give him some space).  I have to say that I have actually done better than I thought I would.  So some big blessings there!  I realize that since I am the one person in Adam's life who knows him and can recognize in minutes if he is having a bipolar episode, and I am not with him, he is probably going to go manic a lot without me being able to fix it.  I am having to deal with this.  But frankly, as long as he isn't making life-changing bad choices, I guess he's ok.  I have had to turn it over to the Lord, and while it has tested my faith, I am happy with the results.  Adam is super active in his ward.  He is attending institute, sings in the institute choir, and goes to all the devotionals and firesides.  He has a girlfriend in his ward, and SHE IS A MORMON!  This is a relief, Adam hasn't had very good taste in girls.  He said that I would like her.  And he knows how picky I am.  The girl, as well as all of Adam's roomies, know about his bipolar and are keeping an eye on him.  That worked out better than I expected (even though one of the roommates is gay.  but he is the one who is the most helpful and compassionate so maybe that is meant to be too.  I'm not going to judge)
And man, this house gets quiet.  Sam is going to NPHS now so he is gone most of the day, and Sophie and I are the only ones at home.  We are having a good time.  Sophie is a good homeschooler.  She is a self-starter most of the time and I don't have to nag her much.  She takes pride in her work.  Also I have signed her up for a bunch of enrichment classes so she is getting lots of social too.  She likes it and so do I.
Sam is doing great at public high school.  He is still very socially awkward but he is learning.  He loves seminary and I have never once had to get him up for it.  He is the complete opposite of Adam, and has said that he wants it that way.  He is determined to have perfect attendance at seminary (WHY?).  Anyway, I am proud of him.  He is also super happy with choir.  He even decided to join Men's Chorus which meets at lunch.  I'm excited for him to be part of the choir program.  It is great!
Also, Chad.  That man has amazed me, he is so skilled at just about everything!  He put in our entire entertainment system, including surround sound.  He installed custom closets.  He is currently building our coffee table (we searched all over the place to find one the right size…unsuccessful).  He has had one project after another - and one Saturday a few weeks ago, he just took the day off (first one since we moved).  He said he felt lazy and wanted to accomplish something…so he decided to try his hand at cooking.  Made enchiladas from scratch.  They were delicious!!!  Something tells me he won't be doing much of that in future but at least we know he can, haha!   I love that man.  He is so talented!
Meg has started her final countdown.  She only has 9 weeks left!  She is tired but finishing strong.  I am so proud of her!  But I am excited to get her home so I can pamper her a bit.  She needs a good rest.

I am training for a half marathon in Nov.  It has been so hard.  These past few weeks, it was all I could do to get out and run 4 miles…and the hills have absolutely KILLED me!  And my breathing has been terrible - for the first time in my life, I felt like an asthmatic, like no matter how deeply I sucked in the air, I couldn't get enough.  Then when I get home, I usually crash on the couch and die for most of the day.  I have been so discouraged. And then I realized that I am probably super low in my B vitamins because bypass patients can't absorb any B vitamins from food.  I hadn't been taking my supplements because they taste like the most bitter poison ever, and you have to let it dissolve under the tongue!  So I looked up the symptoms of low B-12 and what do you know?  Extreme fatigue, muscle soreness and weakness, shortness of breath.  Needless to say, I started taking my supplements again.  And I scheduled a B-12 shot next week.  I really hope it helps, running has hurt so bad that it has killed all my joy.  I seriously dread going out there.  It makes me want to cry.  So I am hoping that this improves everything and QUICKLY!  I only have 4 weeks left!

So there you go, you're all caught up.  Long post!

Oh, holy overwhelming August!

So here's what I have been doing the past month: packing, hosting 4 different sets of out of state company (ok, to be honest, most of them were super helpful and I was grateful to have them visit), packing some more, putting together an epic moving sale, moving, cleaning, unpacking, hanging like a bazillion curtains, shopping for decor items, unpacking some more, organizing, calling utilities and sitting on hold for HOURS (and I am NOT exaggerating!), cussing at Verizon (because we had no internet, cell, or TV for a week after we moved in), getting Adam all packed and ready for dorm move-in, driving to UT to get Adam all scheduled and set up for school, then saying goodbye and driving back home, still unpacking, having landscaping installed.  And all the emotions (stress, anxiety) of those events.  To put it bluntly, I am exhausted, with no relief in sight.  Because school starts for Sam and Sophie this week and I have to jump into homeschooling again.  Plus I have no excuses anymore for neglecting my calling, so back to YW.

But.  I am feeling SO BLESSED!  I can't believe we have our dream house.  It was such a trauma-filled experience, getting this place, and I still don't know how we did it.  Truly the biggest roller coaster I've ever experienced.  It was a series of miracles!  Plus, Adam!  Other than some minor manic behavior, he is doing awesome!  Jumping into the social stuff with both feet, making a ton of friends, and getting geared up for classes that start tomorrow.  He is so happy!  I can't believe how big that miracle is.  Just makes my heart melt/sing.  And I am not as big of a mess as I thought I would be, which is so great.  Maybe because I have not had a spare minute to think about it…but so far, so good.

   

The young and the not so young

This weekend was a big one for the Wright men.  Adam wanted to go skydiving for his 18th birthday, and since I took Megan to England for hers, how could I say no, it was a lot cheaper!  Chad was so on board with the idea.  He has been wanting to go skydiving for years.  But the real surprise was the addition of Chad's dad, Mike (Grandpa W).  So there were 3 generations of Wrights jumping out of the plane on Saturday!  Mike is 73 years old.  You have to give him huge props for going skydiving.  

I am proud of him!  

Each had different reactions to the whole experience.  Adam immediately texted me and said, "I want to work here!  I am so doing this again with Meg when she gets home!"(ah, youth), Chad said, "It was intense!  I am glad I did it and I don't feel like I have to do it again." Mike said,  "I'm glad I did it but I'm glad its over."  All three men came home and went straight to bed for a nice long nap.

Chad's mom and dad were in town for a totally different reason.  Chad was called to be our ward High Priest group leader, and as such, needed to be ordained to the office of High Priest.  It was so special that his dad could come down to do that ordination.  That's the way it should be, and 

it means a lot to us that they would come.  

But for Chad to be a High Priest!  It's crazy!  He is so young.  Most High Priests are older and much more seasoned Priesthood holders.  At this date, Chad is the youngest High Priest in our ward.  Neither one of us can figure out what the heck the Bishop was thinking when he suggested Chad for this calling.  There are plenty of fantastic High Priests that could fill that calling.  It is puzzling, doesn't make sense.  When we were meeting with the Stake President, I asked him why they would call someone who wasn't already a High Priest to this calling, and he shrugged and said, "It was inspired.  Your Bishop prayed about it, we (stake presidency) prayed about it, and the high council had to approve your name too."  So there you go.  We just have to assume the Lord knows what He is doing.  I have no doubt that Chad will be able to fill this calling well, but he just feels a little like a whipper-snapper.  And then he went and called our former stake president to be his first assistant!  That took some guts.  Kind of a strange choice, but Chad said he felt inspired.  I'm telling you, the Lord works in mysterious ways.  None of it makes sense to me but I'm not going to worry about it anymore.  Its not up to me to counsel the Lord!

But the most important thing I have to say about Chad becoming a High Priest is that I support his Priesthood 100%.  I have always felt that men need the Priesthood to give them something higher to live up to.  To help them perfect themselves. Most men are total knuckleheads (at best).  This is why auto insurance is more expensive for men than women.  In general, they are not good drivers, they are too crazy.  Also that whole "natural man" thing - I believe that this life is the time for men to overcome their natural man tendencies, and frankly, the Priesthood helps with this.  Women don't have those same challenges, and we have different strengths and talents that are inherent to our gender.  We don't need the Priesthood to help perfect ourselves, most of us are pretty motivated to do that on our own.  I don't want the Priesthood for myself, I don't need it.  But I will support the Priesthood that my sons and my husband hold, and I will support them as they exercise it.  And I am grateful for its power in my home.  

All of it.  Teacher, Priest, and High Priest.

        

Mormon Feminist Bloggers and philosophy of religion

There is a certain blogger (whose name I will not write because I'm not a fan anymore) that has frustrated me.  You may wonder why I let one blogging woman affect my mood, and I wonder that myself, but the truth is that the things she blogs about seem to be the new (or maybe not so new) thing amongst younger LDS women.  And of course, she is super concerned about the Young Women in the church who might be feeling suffocated or angry about the gospel teachings and NEED MORE.  That's where it gets my attention and REALLY ANNOYS ME!  Because I am a counselor in the YW presidency in my ward and I take my calling seriously.  Plus, I have two daughters.  And I sure wouldn't want any of them influenced by this woman and others who feel like she does!

I consider women who think they need more religious philosophy and less gospel doctrine to be prideful and immature.  There, I said it.  If they made a serious study of the Book of Mormon and other scriptures, conference talks, prayer, and temple attendance, they would understand that there is a depth to the doctrines of the gospel that is enough for anyone!  I have heard these women complain that the doctrines of the gospel that the church leaders present are lightweight and "milk instead of meat". "One size fits all", "not enough for a Progressive Woman, or a Mormon Feminist".  What are they talking about?  Every time I read the Book of Mormon, or attend the temple, I learn something different, because in that moment, I am experiencing a different challenge than the last time I read or attended.  I don't have to turn to alternative sources to find religious enlightenment.  And I am not a stupid lemming of a woman.  I have self-respect, an education, and I don't run along behind men everywhere I go.  The difference, I think, is humility and maturity.

In the past 10 years, I have had challenges that changed my life and rocked my world.  Like most people.  I'll tell you, I have been humbled!  And that humility has sent me straight to my knees.  I have prayed harder than I ever prayed before, and I have had my prayers answered in marvelous ways.  Including through scripture study and listening to the voice of the prophet.  I have had spiritual experiences in the temple that are sacred to me and gave more knowledge and understanding (more "meat") than any other single source.  One of the definitions of humility is being teachable.  This is what I have become, and my teachers are my Heavenly Father, His Son, and His representatives on this earth.  And of course, my challenges.  I learn a lot from my challenges.  These "progressive" women are walking a fine line in thinking they need more than that.  Maybe what they need are more challenges!

      

Newbury Park Youth Conference 2014

Today is the day after Youth Conference and I can barely move.  Our stake did a Pioneer Trek this year and Chad and I were asked to be a "Ma and Pa" - chaperones.  We had 11 children.
As far as the chaperoning went, we had a pretty great gig.  Our only complications were these:  One daughter kept taking off to hang out with another family (boy), and taking her pioneer skirt off (leggings underneath, little turkey), but even after all the reminders to put it back on and come back to the family, she was not upset.  Her heart was right, so I just gave her love.  It worked out ok.  One son wouldn't touch the handcart and all he did the whole time was walk along and mutter (but that wasn't a big deal).  One daughter kept having physical complaints so that she could ride in the medic truck (but then a kid broke his collarbone and opted to stay at YC, so he got the medic truck, and she found him to be annoying so she miraculously healed).  She was also the one who woke me up at 2am to walk her to the latrines because she was afraid of bears.  But she had a good attitude throughout the whole thing and I have to say that on the second day when she was miraculously feeling better, she pulled her own weight.  And those were our only chaperoning issues.  EASY!  I feel blessed with the kids we got.  The remaining 8 kids were fantastic in every way.  Except for a lot of complaining, but who can blame them?  I murmured too.  We've been raised in a different time.

The Trek was organized by a professional trekking company owned and operated by the Riley family of Riley Farms.  Two brothers run a huge ranch.  One is a member of the church, and his side of the ranch does Pioneer Treks.  The other brother is very inactive, and he runs weddings, and civil/revolutionary war reenactments.  They have their whole family involved, and have found some real characters to act out the parts of Brigham Young, Porter Rockwell, and other people from Church History.  When we weren't pulling handcarts, we learned all about church history and life in those times.  The history buff in me was fascinated.

Because we only had 2 days for this Trek, they crammed every single minute full of experiences.  We did not have time for all the niceties of Youth Conference - no getting to know you games, parties, or down time.  It was go, go, go.  The first day, we left the church at 6:00am and rode for two hours on school buses.  When we got there, they split us up into families and we got all our stuff loaded on the handcart.  Paint buckets full of clothes and gear, and sleeping bags for everyone.  It was pretty heavy but the guys in our family took on the pulling and the girls did most of the pushing.  There were a few hills but it was all doable.  A lot of stopping while carts ahead of ours (and us, a few times) had to re-load stuff that had fallen out of the cart (I came up with a better system involving lashing a tarp around it all).

We had lunch and then came to a big pond, which was supposed to be the Sweetwater River.  "Captain Riley" - the guy who runs the place, gave us a talk about the boys carrying people across the river, and told the story of the three 18 year old boys who were part of the rescue party that went out to get the Martin Handcart Company, and carried the starving and dying people across the freezing Sweetwater River…those boys eventually all died as a result of that act of service.  Brigham Young cried when he found out about those boys and proclaimed that they had earned their place in the Celestial Kingdom with that act.  Well, one of those boys was named C. Allen Huntington, and Chad is related to him.  Which means Sam is related to him too, and he was inspired by that story.  Ended up carrying a girl or two across that "River", after pulling the cart across it.  Chad rolled up his pants and pulled the cart over, and as for me, I walked around it on dry ground.  (after all, it was only a pond in real life)  Call me a cheater, I didn't want to get dropped in the water.

About a half mile later, word came back that we needed to unload all our carts because we had come to "Hole in the Rock" and the carts would have to be lowered into a ravine and pulled back out of it, reloaded, and move out again.  Chad and our boys kind of took that one on, although we women ended up pulling the cart out of the ravine while the boys were helping others.

Then we pulled again for another half mile and ended up at our camp for the night - where we parked our carts and had dinner.  And then there was a hoe-down.  We were exhausted and tried to get everyone to bed as soon as we could…difficult because half of our kids went off to sleep with friends that weren't in our family and didn't tell us.  The boys were in buggy barracks that were separated from the girls, who slept on a grassy field under the stars.  The stars were beautiful.  Other than the girl waking me up at 2am to go to the latrine, it was an uneventful night.  Cold, though.  95 degrees during the day, 50 degrees at night.  I wrapped my ground cover tarp around my sleeping bag, that helped with the cold.  All part of the experience, right?
One of the most annoying things about this experience was the dirt.  The trails consisted of fine dirt that was almost sand, and rocks.  When following behind the carts, the dust would choke you and cake on every body part.  That night I got out my wet wipes and wiped down my face - when I looked at the wipe, I was shocked at how dirty it was!  My legs and feet were even worse.  My pioneer clothes that I worked so hard on were FILTHY.  I could feel that dirt all over me and it itched.  I just had to do the best I could with the wet wipes.  Somebody found some soap and put it next to the spigot where we filled our water bottles…it was like Christmas!  Seriously.

The next day, after breakfast and a talk by Captain Riley and Brigham Young, we lost all our men to the Mormon Battalion.  As they left, the girls and women gathered together and sang "God be with you til we meet again".  It was really touching, and I admit, I teared up.  I knew what was coming…we women were going to have to pull/push that stinking cart up and down some hills and based on how little work we had done the previous day, I didn't know how we were going to do it.  We got started and I'm not going to lie, it was hard.  Especially when we looked up on the ridge on our left and saw the men climbing down - we thought they were coming to help us.  Some of them did show up but they weren't allowed to help us, they just watched while we struggled.  When I saw Chad coming back, I was so happy!  Funny, but just seeing him gave me extra strength.
I think the worst part of this sisters-pull was the disorganization.  Getting the carts up the hill required help from everyone, and it took awhile to figure out that some of the sisters were going to have to leave their carts behind to help the others ahead to get to the top, and then go back for their own.  Of course, there was the downhill too, which also required extra help.  We had to pull back like crazy in order to keep the cart from running away and dragging all of us with it.  And crashing into the cart in front of us.  I think I hated the downhills worst.  My toes got hammered on the downhill.  They still hurt!
The guys didn't like watching us but not being able to help.  Eventually they just started cheering for us and calling out encouragement.  We sang "As Sisters in Zion" and other songs while we pulled and that was fun.

When we finally made it, we got rewarded with lunch.  Little did we know what was coming next!  Testimony Hill, about 1 mile of straight uphill.  Steep enough that you couldn't ride a bike up it, and walking felt more like climbing a ladder.  It was beastly! This was supposed to represent Rocky Ridge, that awful mountain that killed a ton of the members of the Martin and Willie Handcart companies.  The night after they pulled their carts to the top of that ridge was the most deadly night of the whole trek.  Many of those people, who were already starving, freezing, and weak, just worked themselves to death.  They got to the top, collapsed, and died right there. What kind of determination and endurance did it take to do that?  To keep going and going until it cost you your life?

I helped pull somebody else's cart to the mid-point, and then raced back down to pull our own.  There was such a back up and people were in such a hurry to get up that stinking hill.  I took the crossbar along with our Stake YW pres.  We got about 1/3 of the way up and she started voicing my thoughts -  "We have to stop and rest.  I can't take one step further!  Please can we rest?"  Of course, everyone kept telling us that we couldn't stop until the halfway point, or we would just start rolling back down.  My feet couldn't get purchase in the sand and I kept slipping and falling to my knees.  Not good when pulling at the crossbar.  We took a breather at the halfway point and then quickly started again.  I didn't want to push again, in fact, I looked around to see if there was anyone else who could take my place at the crossbar.  My sweet son Sam stepped inside  and joined myself and another girl from our family (YW pres. moved to the back, I don't blame her!) At that point, the trail got even steeper.  I didn't look up at the trail, I just looked at the dirt where I was putting my feet, and tried to pick spots to step that would be safe.  It was horrible.  My arms and legs were already tired and sore from those other hills with the sisters, and this seemed like torture.  People were lining the trail encouraging us.  It didn't help!  It was like pulling a 500lb weight up a ladder.  Only without real steps.  I can't explain it any better than that.

When we got to the top, I thought I was going to collapse.  I don't know if I am just old, or in much worse shape than I thought I was, but I couldn't catch my breath and my stomach was killing me (I think I drank too much water in too short a period of time - my tiny stomach couldn't handle it).  The heat was unbearable.  Chad found me and helped me find somewhere shady to sit while he went back and helped somebody else.  I sat there and watched these teens pull carts to the top, eat a piece of watermelon, and then run back down to pull up another one.  Sam was one of them - he pulled up 4 carts!  They were amazing.  Not one of them quit.  How easy it would have been to say, "this is stupid.  why are we doing this?  I don't have to participate in this and I am done."  But they were caught up in the spirit of the re-enactment and they didn't stop until everyone was at the top.  In fact, Brother Brigham tried to block off the trail and kept saying, "if you have already pulled up 4 carts, do not pull any more!  Get some water and rest!"  It was 98 degrees, dry, and oh that dust!  Suffocating!

After I caught my breath and started feeling a little less light-headed, I just stood there hugging Chad.  It was easy to imagine what it would have been like to be a pioneer, and how much we would be depending on each other to get through the hard stuff.  It was such an intense two days.  When our Bishop talked about it in church the day after, he said that it was hell.  Over the pulpit, he said Hell.  And that was accurate.

After everybody got rested, we had another chat with Brother Brigham, yes, he said, "this is the place".  Then we pulled our carts to Zion.  NOBODY wanted to pull that cart again.  Even thought it was only about 800yds.  When we finally got to the lawn, we just dropped our darn cart and walked away…to the bathroom, to drinks, and shade.  Then we had a testimony meeting.  Now this was an interesting phenomenon.  I had listened to those kids complain like crazy the entire time we were there.  Some were louder than others, but all of them complained.  They were justified.  What kind of youth conference just about kills you?  I was kind of scared to hear what they would say - I wondered if this trek was an epic fail.  But they surprised me…and what do you know, they got it.  They bore wonderful testimonies!  There is depth to this generation that I did not know was there.  It was amazing to see.  It made me feel so great!  Sam was one of the first ones to bear his testimony.  It was so cool to see that he got it too, even though he is young (barely turned 14 in time to go) and very immature.  After he bore his testimony, he came over and sat on the ground with his head against my side.  He was exhausted too.  The testimony meeting was almost 2 hours long!  Those are the reasons that youth leaders do what we do.  Two hours worth of kids feeling the spirit and GETTING IT.
Then we ate dinner and got on the buses and went home. Oh home, it is the best!  It took me TWO SHOWERS to get all the dirt off my body.  I don't think I've ever been that dirty before…

So yeah, that was an intense two days.  And I was surprised, because even though I was a leader, and the youth conference was for the kids, I learned just as much as they did.
1) I learned how much I depend on my husband.  I flat out could not have done this trek without him.  Not just physically, although that was huge.  But emotionally.  His support and love made me stronger and able to handle more.  If I had been one of those pioneers whose husband died on the trail, I don't know if I would have wanted to continue without him.  Plus, Chad was just a good looking pioneer guy!  He was pretty great to have around, haha.

2)  I identified with my pioneer forebears on a totally different level.  I have always loved the history and inspiring stories about the pioneers, but this trek gave me a small taste of their lives and it was hard!  I don't know how they did it.  I said that about a million times during those two days, and I still mean it.  Of course, everyone says that they were born in a different time, and we have our own challenges to face that are less physical but just as hard...and all that…but the truth is, I think we are spoiled.  I think our day and age is much easier.  I know I couldn't have done what they did.  Maybe they couldn't do what I do now…but I don't know about that.  They were amazing.  The only thing that makes sense to me is that they had a faith like no one else.  They had been abused for their faith, and they weren't going to hang around to get abused anymore.  They wanted peace and Zion so badly that they were willing to go through hell.  And I am hoping that the Lord really did send them physical tender mercies…angels to help push the carts from behind.  My heart breaks to think of them going through something like that all alone.  It didn't happen that way, I am sure of it!  The Lord blessed them for their faith.  And it makes me want to be better, do better, so that I can earn a place with them in the next life.
3) Our youth.  Wow.  I got to know them in different ways - it seems like when you are having to work hard together, the true personalities come out.  I will never look at those kids the same again.  There were a few that I had some negative feelings about…not anymore.  Pretty fantastic young people!  It made me laugh - the next day (Sunday), I was talking to two of the biggest complainers, and both of them said, "It was awful, and I hated it while I was doing it, but I wouldn't have wanted to miss that trek!  It was one of the best experiences I've ever had!"  And they meant it.

I feel the same way.