When I was 13 or 14 I met Tasha Morang. I can still remember what she was wearing, french rolled green jeans and cream cropped top. My husband who is two years older then me, laughs at me about the french rolled jeans because he says he was french rolling his jeans in the second grade. But when you live in Maine fashion arrives a little late if at all. Tasha and I  became friends very quickly and spent most of our time together listening to music, talking about boys and watching Dirty Dancing over and over and over. She was not a member of the church when we first met but soon joined, however she always struggled to get a firm grip in the gospel. She came from a difficult family life with an alcoholic dad who had left when she was only four. By the time we were 18 we had started to drift apart, our lives were headed in separate directions. Though I always loved her and prayed and  thought of her often. A few years later when I was 20 and had been married for a little over a year I received an impression that I needed to call my friend and see how she was doing. Now I put it off, she was on the east coast it was late, I didn’t have her number on hand. The next day I got the same impression and again I put it off, now is not a good time I will do it later. Then the weekend came I got busy and I put the thought out of my mind. Then I got a phone call early on a Monday morning from my father, Tasha had died in a Jet Ski accident the day before. Why oh why had I not picked up that phone?! Why had I ignored the prompting of the spirit?! It took me long time to come to grips with this experience. I think Heavenly Father new that I am not good at going outside of my comfort zone (on top of which my comfort zone is about the size of my pinkie) so he gave me a hard but valuable lesson. ALWAYS ALWAYS follow the promptings of the spirit. So fast forward a 11 years down the road to present time and I am sitting in a class at Education Week when the teacher says that she had gone to her Relief Society President and told her she would be willing to teach. I thought Ha! I would never do that!! Ever! I think that Heavenly Father must have had a bit of a chuckle because the very next morning I had the thought come to me “You need to call Linda(my Relief Society President) and let her know you would be willing to share your experience with Infertility if she thinks it would be helpful to the sisters in the ward.” I have to be honest with you I was really hoping this would turn out to be one of those experiences like when Abraham was asked to sacrifice Isaac. That Heavenly Father just wanted to see that I was willing to do what he asked. However it did not turn out that way, and on September 2nd I shared my journey with infertility in Relief Society. It was my first time teaching where I wasn’t expected to bring crayons and gold fish. I was nervous to say the least. That Sunday was one of the longest Sunday's ever. We didn't have church until 1pm so of course I was up and ready to go by 7am. Then I spent the rest of the morning staring at the clock until 12:45 finally rolled around and we could leave. Then I sat through 2 hours of meetings until it was finally time to give my lesson. It went surprisingly well, I was really expecting that my emotions would get the better of me and I would just be sobbing and talking in my high squeaky voice with my face contorted into all kinds of the ugly cry. However I think I was able to keep it together relatively well and the ugly cry only made a few appearances. When I was preparing my lesson I  wrote the whole thing out to help me figure out what order I wanted to share my story's and how to transition from one experience to another. My husband suggested that I put it on a blog, so here we are in the hopes that maybe someone out there can gain something from my experiences. Just so you know it is quite long and I plan to post a page or so at a time so I do not overwhelm anyone with it.