A year of growing.

I've been thinking a lot about this last year. I really enjoy this time of year and...  And I am grateful that it no longer carries any of the perfectionism and comparisons resolutions carried for me in years past. Now, it just feels more like a celebration. "Whoa, look what we survived. Wow, I fixed that one". Or "Well, yeah...I'm still working on that one. Maybe in 2030 I can check that off my list."

2016 started off with a failed IVF.  IVF was hard. And I think it left both Shawn and I a little battle weary and exhausted. In retrospect IVF was like tilling the Earth. Especially in Arizona - that is hard work. Sorting and softening the soil so that seeds can grow there. It tore us up  - in the best way possible - so that we could plant some really important seeds. And I have been watching them grow and bear fruit lately. There is a softness and respect that was worth every hour of tilling and breaking up the "soil" of our relationship.

But seeds don't plant themselves and sometimes we need seeds that only others can give us. I had to learn to let seeds be planted. I'm prideful and independent and have a hard time allowing others to take care of me. On the outside that may sound like self reliance or some other positive thing. But the fruits of that are not always pretty.They are exhaustion and loneliness.  This year gave me a lot of opportunities to humble myself and I was amazed at all the beautiful gardeners in my life who showed up with sacks of seeds. Lynsey flying out in January with her seeds of love and laughter and healing. Sweet friends and a sister who held my hand and planted seeds of loyalty and protection in June as I worked though a tough personal situation. And that surgery in October - whew - it broke the ground up enough that I think I could live of those fruits for a very long time. I felt so so loved and tended to. And found myself once again learning to trust God -The Master Gardener - with my life.

Yesterday my time hop ( Facebook's way of reminding us what was happening in our lives in years past...) showed me the blog post I had written last year at this time when I learned that IVF had not worked. You can read that here. 
I forwarded it to Shawn with the message "Whoa, what a year..."
A part of his response to me was "I don't think I knew how to support you through that experience. I'm sorry. Not that I am hoping for a repeat but I feel so much better prepared to know how to love you through it."

I mean. Who is this man? And how do I raise my sons to be this kind of Father and Husband. I guess I let them have their own gardening experiences. The breaking of the Earth has always been and will always be hard. But that harvest is worth it.