(This is a post I found from about a year ago, I forgot about it so I'm posting it now.)
We've lived in New Hampshire for a little over a year now and let me just say, it's been a doozy. We have moved twice, sold our home in Mass., I sprained my ankle, one of our dogs was hit by a car and killed, my Grandmother passed away, my car literally started falling apart (why does rust make the things that are supposed to move get stuck while at the same time making things that are supposed to be solid, fall apart?), my oldest turned 12 and at the same time became impossible, my youngest started throwing fits like you read about (I occasionally wonder if she needs an exorcism), I started homeschooling all 4 of them, and I almost died from an undiagnosed ectopic pregnancy. Obviously some of these things are more traumatic than others but it was all hard. All along I kept waiting for it to be too much. When was I going to fall apart? Every time a new obstacle or challenge came along I waited. I was good for a long time, until I wasn't.
It took me a while to get past the pregnancy. I was reminded of what the bottom looks like and let me tell you, it's ugly. The longer I go feeling good the uglier it is at the bottom and I had been feeling good for a while. The good news is that I got out...again. I am going to be 37 in a few weeks. I think, maybe, I'm finally learning that I will always get back up. With my husband, kids, parents, sisters, brothers, and friends, by the grace of God, I will always get back up.