Last week I saw this invitation to write about bravery. About you being brave, and facing a fear. (more thoughts on bravery here.)
And you know what, I doubt many of us would consider ourselves 'brave'. We might look at someone else, and think, man, THAT person is brave, but not me.
Well, right now I am claiming the bravery title.
Three years ago today, I lost my third pregnancy. There was no explanation, his heart was no longer beating. I found this out at week 16 1/2. You might think the following hours were a bit blurry for me, but they are very clear in my memory. Of course I fell apart in the exam room. I didn't know where my husband was at the time, and the doctors were trying to find him for me. It was taking some time, and finally I just went out to my car, keeping myself together for the five or so minutes it took to leave the clinic in the hospital and get to my car. It was decided, between myself, my husband (a Physicians Assistant), and my doctors that I be induced and deliver the baby. We made arrangements for Superhero and Blondie to be taken care of overnight, and the next morning, as soon as they had a bed, we went to Labor and Delivery.
Before I go any further, I want to say that my doctors and nurses were truly amazing. Perhaps they were extra nice to me considering my situation. I know there are many out there who have terrible experiences with military health care providers, but that has not been my experience. I don't know how we've gotten lucky each time that our family has needed to be in the hospital, but we just have.
They induced me, and I'm not sure why I didn't figure this out, but at that point in development, there is no need to dilate to a 10. It took some time to get me to a 5, and at that point I was asked to start pushing. This was the only time I have ever delivered a baby vaginally. As well as without pain medication. After I delivered, they put him on a warmer, as I tried to emotionally and physically recover from what I just went through.
About an hour later, they asked if I would like to hold him. I did. My husband did not.
Later that night, while talking on the phone to my best friend, I seemed very calm. I was calm. In fact I had this sense of peace that I knew was not coming from myself. I can't describe it any other way.
They kept me overnight, to make sure there was not bleeding. They sent me home the next day, with a box of things. They had dressed him in a small blue outfit and had taken pictures of him, and the outfit, as well as a few other things provided by organizations for situations like this had donated or made. That hour of peace was no more, and in pretty much every aspect, I was a wreck.
My milk came in the next day, which was a nightmare. They had said it wouldn't, but boy did it come. Having milk with no baby to give it to was....um.....don't really know the right word for this, but maybe you can try and imagine.
I recovered, and eventually found some peace with what happened, and with that peace was able to move on.
Fast forward two years, (and two moves and a deployment) and I found myself pregnant again. Just a few months after my husband had come home from deployment. We kept it to ourselves for many weeks. Things were going well. One Thursday, I started to feel these odd pains. I know that when you're pregnant, things hurt sometimes, so I didn't pay too much attention to it. I told my husband, and we both figured it wasn't a big deal. Saturday, right at about my 16 week mark, in the afternoon, those very same pains became a much bigger deal. My uterus was contracting. I drank massive amounts of water, put my feet up, and prayed the contractions would stop. They did not. My husband, somewhat in denial about what was really happening, didn't think I needed to go to the hospital. I felt a pop in my cervix and my water broke. He took me to the ER. I also remember this very clearly. I won't go into the details, but once they got things mostly taken care of, my uterus wouldn't stop bleeding. They decided to do a D&C to try and get it to stop. They got some blood ready just in case they needed to give me a transfusion. And then blessedly I was knocked out and got to forget what was going on for a little while. I ended up losing about a liter of blood, which really takes you out for a few days. I couldn't walk without some help, could barely keep my head up. I have never felt so exhausted, even after my c-sections.
Obviously, I was a disaster yet again. Thankfully, this time around I had a therapist already, and went to her as soon as I could. I didn't have that feeling of peace like I had the first time. Perhaps it was because of the pain meds. And yet again, there was no way to know why this had happened. The two incidents were so different, there was no way to be able to know. It really messed with my head. One good thing was that my milk didn't come in. That probably would have sent me over the edge.
After these two experiences, I was unsure as to what my next step was. Should we try again? Should we call it quits? What the heck was wrong with my body? Why was this happening? As I was having the contractions I told my husband that I just couldn't go through this again...and then he watched me go through it all over again. As I was recovering after my D&C, one of the first things he said was that we should just try adoption. Me, in my medicated and lacking a liter of blood state, could barely focus on having a conversation let alone try and make a decision. But of course he had been wide awake and thinking for the entire time I had been under.
After seeing my therapist a few times and talking to my husband, as well as praying and meditating on what the next step for our family should be, I came to a decision. I decided that I would try one more time. So, I knelt down and had a conversation with Heavenly Father. I told Him I would try one more time. And if it ended like the others, or somewhere in between, I would be done. And then at that point we would decide if we would try to adopt or be glad for the children we had and stop adding to our family. Five months later, I found myself pregnant again. I couldn't believe it. I went to the doctor that had done my D&C and asked if I was high risk. Believe it or not, I wasn't. But thankfully, she did agree to be my doctor. (Usually at a military hospital, you're assigned to a team of docs. And when you call to make your appointment, they put you with any of those docs. Luckily, she agreed to allow me to only see her so I didn't have to go through my history multiple times.)
She did a vaginal ultrasound to determine how far along I was (I practically knew the day it was conceived, but she wanted to make sure). I brought home the pictures she printed for me, and showed them to my husband. He made a comment that I will always remember. Usually when you look at ultrasound pictures, there is an excitement, a happiness. He talked about how looking at them, all he felt was hope. Hope that it would work out. Hope that I wouldn't have to go through a nightmare yet again. No excitement, no happiness. Just hope.
So, back to the whole reason I wrote this: bravery. So far, in my life, the bravest thing I've ever done is try and get pregnant for the 5th time. Some might say supporting my husband in joining the Army was brave. Or maybe going on a mission to France, or maybe moving our family overseas to Germany for the Army. Or even sending my husband off to deploy to Afghanistan. Nope. All those things were easier.
Being brave is so subjective. For me, trying this again was the biggest and bravest thing I've done.
And so far, it's been worth it. We are good, healthy, and doing lots of kicking. I still have anxiety. I still like to stop during the day and be still so I can feel him in there. My friend said at first that I was bonding to him....nope, I just need reassurance that he is still alive (maybe there is bonding, I'm just really concerned about him staying alive). I have moments of panic, where I think that now that I'm telling people, everything is going to go downhill. Or that now that I'm starting to accept and get used to the idea, it's going to go downhill. I think up to the moment that I hear him cry, I'll have that anxiety.
Not really sure how to end this, because this story doesn't have an end yet. My plan is just to get through this one day at a time.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Had an interesting conversation with my dad tonight.
He was on his way home from visiting my grandma. He goes over pretty much every Sunday after church. He was telling me about this latest visit. My grandma doesn't have any major health problems yet. She lives on her own, in the house that she's lived in since 1956. So far, her living on her own has been ok. I have an aunt that live somewhat nearby, as well as some other family members. And of course my dad, and my uncle go over almost every Sunday. Anyway, my grandma is notoriously cantankerous. She's been like this pretty much her entire life. And right now the difficulty is trying to convince her that she really shouldn't be living on her own anymore.
We got to talking a little bit about why the heck grandma is the way she is. I know we all come to this earth with our own quirky personalities, but grandma was a lot more than quirky. My dad talked about what he remembers about her growing up, and about her parents. She had some issues with her father, and by the time my dad was born and able to remember things great grandma and great grandpa were no longer sleeping in the same room. While we don't know exactly why grandma was/is always so angry, she did have a hard time forgiving and letting go. There is a rumor that great grandpa had an affair, and perhaps that is why, amongst other things, that she just couldn't forgive her father. In fact, he has been dead since I was a little girl, about 30 years ago, and only in the last 6 has she said that she has forgiven her father.
All this has gotten me thinking. As a little girl, I looked just like my grandma when she was a little girl. In fact, my grandpa showed my mom a picture of my grandma at the same age I happened to be at the time (maybe 5 or 6) and when asked who it was, my mom said it was me, but knowing it wasn't since it was a black and white picture.
And now as an adult, and as a teenager, I have had a heck of a time forgiving. I cannot say why (perhaps this was a learned behavior, probably from my mother who had somewhat the same issue) I have this problem, I just do. And it causes me problems all the time. Because one of the biggest things in marriage is learning how to forgive the other person, pretty much daily. But not just that, there are other things that I need to forgive. Granted, forgiveness does take time and effort, but I really struggle. And seeing and hearing about what my grandma is now, kind of scares me. I don't want to become like her. I want to be able to forgive easier, and not turn out holding onto grudges for so long I've become angry at the world. And I really don't want to take more than 30 years to forgive someone. I don't want to be like her.
My grandma was a good grandma. Came to our games, bought us Christmas gifts, came to birthdays and baptisms and blessings. Was there for graduations, band competitions and anything else we did. Babysat us when we were kids, always had froot loops for us for breakfast. I never felt like my grandma didn't love me or any of my cousins. She did have her favorite that could do no wrong (they were nightmares), but overall, she was a good grandma. But she probably could have done better, been happier, if she could have learned to forgive.
I've been examining my own soul lately, about why I am having a hard time forgiving, specifically, my husbands father. He was truly terrible. The emails, personal attacks on my old blog, how he treated everyone, was terrible. I cut off all communication to him over two years ago. It was the best thing I could have done. Since that time, he has apparently made a lot of changes, and is active in his ward (as active as he can be since he is in a lot of pain due to neuropathy throughout most of his body) and has also been through the temple. I knew I was progressing in the forgiveness process when I saw pictures of them at the temple and I didn't feel that anger that used to instantly come over me when it came to his dad.
I think the hard part for me was that phrase that you hear so much 'forgive and forget'. I mean, NO WAY was I going to forget what this man did to me and my family. No freaking way. And if forgetting was part of forgiving, then I guess I would never do it. I believe it is dangerous, especially when abuse of any sort is concerned, to forget. I will never allow myself to be in that situation again, as a protection for myself and my family. But a few weeks ago I read this story on CNN, that gave me a new perspective on the whole forgiveness thing. (this was the fourth part in the story, there are links to the first three on the story) The daughter witnessed a man shooting her mother and killing her. And she had this to say about forgiveness:
So, new personal goals are to really work on forgiving. I don't want to carry around extra emotional weight that I don't need. I read somewhere someone's visual on how to give it all to God....you're getting all of it in a ball, and tossing it to God, but he doesn't toss it back. I am going to do this. I have to. Cause I am not going to be like my grandma. At least in this I won't. Although I may end up with her mostly salt and a little pepper hair....seems to run in the family.
He was on his way home from visiting my grandma. He goes over pretty much every Sunday after church. He was telling me about this latest visit. My grandma doesn't have any major health problems yet. She lives on her own, in the house that she's lived in since 1956. So far, her living on her own has been ok. I have an aunt that live somewhat nearby, as well as some other family members. And of course my dad, and my uncle go over almost every Sunday. Anyway, my grandma is notoriously cantankerous. She's been like this pretty much her entire life. And right now the difficulty is trying to convince her that she really shouldn't be living on her own anymore.
We got to talking a little bit about why the heck grandma is the way she is. I know we all come to this earth with our own quirky personalities, but grandma was a lot more than quirky. My dad talked about what he remembers about her growing up, and about her parents. She had some issues with her father, and by the time my dad was born and able to remember things great grandma and great grandpa were no longer sleeping in the same room. While we don't know exactly why grandma was/is always so angry, she did have a hard time forgiving and letting go. There is a rumor that great grandpa had an affair, and perhaps that is why, amongst other things, that she just couldn't forgive her father. In fact, he has been dead since I was a little girl, about 30 years ago, and only in the last 6 has she said that she has forgiven her father.
All this has gotten me thinking. As a little girl, I looked just like my grandma when she was a little girl. In fact, my grandpa showed my mom a picture of my grandma at the same age I happened to be at the time (maybe 5 or 6) and when asked who it was, my mom said it was me, but knowing it wasn't since it was a black and white picture.
And now as an adult, and as a teenager, I have had a heck of a time forgiving. I cannot say why (perhaps this was a learned behavior, probably from my mother who had somewhat the same issue) I have this problem, I just do. And it causes me problems all the time. Because one of the biggest things in marriage is learning how to forgive the other person, pretty much daily. But not just that, there are other things that I need to forgive. Granted, forgiveness does take time and effort, but I really struggle. And seeing and hearing about what my grandma is now, kind of scares me. I don't want to become like her. I want to be able to forgive easier, and not turn out holding onto grudges for so long I've become angry at the world. And I really don't want to take more than 30 years to forgive someone. I don't want to be like her.
My grandma was a good grandma. Came to our games, bought us Christmas gifts, came to birthdays and baptisms and blessings. Was there for graduations, band competitions and anything else we did. Babysat us when we were kids, always had froot loops for us for breakfast. I never felt like my grandma didn't love me or any of my cousins. She did have her favorite that could do no wrong (they were nightmares), but overall, she was a good grandma. But she probably could have done better, been happier, if she could have learned to forgive.
I've been examining my own soul lately, about why I am having a hard time forgiving, specifically, my husbands father. He was truly terrible. The emails, personal attacks on my old blog, how he treated everyone, was terrible. I cut off all communication to him over two years ago. It was the best thing I could have done. Since that time, he has apparently made a lot of changes, and is active in his ward (as active as he can be since he is in a lot of pain due to neuropathy throughout most of his body) and has also been through the temple. I knew I was progressing in the forgiveness process when I saw pictures of them at the temple and I didn't feel that anger that used to instantly come over me when it came to his dad.
I think the hard part for me was that phrase that you hear so much 'forgive and forget'. I mean, NO WAY was I going to forget what this man did to me and my family. No freaking way. And if forgetting was part of forgiving, then I guess I would never do it. I believe it is dangerous, especially when abuse of any sort is concerned, to forget. I will never allow myself to be in that situation again, as a protection for myself and my family. But a few weeks ago I read this story on CNN, that gave me a new perspective on the whole forgiveness thing. (this was the fourth part in the story, there are links to the first three on the story) The daughter witnessed a man shooting her mother and killing her. And she had this to say about forgiveness:
That was my problem. I didn't want to forgive because of that exact reason. I don't know why I thought that way, I just did. And that quote keeps going through my head, and I've been thinking a lot about the work I have to do to be able to completely forgive. Giving it to God seems so easy. But it is dang hard sometimes. I hope that with practice I'll get better at the process. I mean if this woman can forgive, why the heck can't I?
So, new personal goals are to really work on forgiving. I don't want to carry around extra emotional weight that I don't need. I read somewhere someone's visual on how to give it all to God....you're getting all of it in a ball, and tossing it to God, but he doesn't toss it back. I am going to do this. I have to. Cause I am not going to be like my grandma. At least in this I won't. Although I may end up with her mostly salt and a little pepper hair....seems to run in the family.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
I'm working on it
Our family is in limbo.
We know we'll be moving, and we know where we'll be moving. The big question right now is when.
When it comes to the United States Army and being efficient......yeah, most people, at least on my end of things, would never put those two together. I understand this. We've been in the US Army for over 8 years, and getting orders is never a quick thing. Half the time the family isn't included. Or you only get the first page, and have to wait for the second page and that will take more time. It is the nature of the beast. I mean, getting anything done in the Army that requires more than one person and one sheet of paper takes forever.
Anyway, I am getting a tad antsy about knowing when we'll be moving.
I also have a new responsibility at church. I've done this same thing two times before, as well as running it. I've been to one meeting so far, and I feel like my head is going to explode. We had to meet in the kitchen of our church building (the rooms were being used) and then it didn't turn out to be a meeting, as we were going to do some visits, which I wasn't prepared for. I have no idea when our next meeting will be. Two of the four of us don't even have the internet at their house, and one of those doesn't have a computer.
Right now my goal is to try and find positive, constructive ways to make the changes necessary for things to run the way they need to. Sadly, right now, all I can think of is saying "What the crap are you guys doing?? How do you even function??? This has got to change!!!" Obviously, that is not the best way to bring about change. I'm still working on it. Who knows when our next meeting will be, so I better be ready when the time comes. First one is slightly passive aggressive: bring an agenda. Because I think that is the best starting point....
Add to my admittedly small frustrations is the weather. Fall is coming. When we came home from California three weeks ago, leaves were already starting to change. The clouds have come back, and the temps are going down. The Northwest barely had a summer, so I'm not liking this change much. But since no one can control the weather, I just have to go with it, and bust out my vitamin D.
Can you tell I'm working on being positive? Sometimes it's really hard. Today it isn't so hard. Tomorrow is looking good too.
We know we'll be moving, and we know where we'll be moving. The big question right now is when.
When it comes to the United States Army and being efficient......yeah, most people, at least on my end of things, would never put those two together. I understand this. We've been in the US Army for over 8 years, and getting orders is never a quick thing. Half the time the family isn't included. Or you only get the first page, and have to wait for the second page and that will take more time. It is the nature of the beast. I mean, getting anything done in the Army that requires more than one person and one sheet of paper takes forever.
Anyway, I am getting a tad antsy about knowing when we'll be moving.
I also have a new responsibility at church. I've done this same thing two times before, as well as running it. I've been to one meeting so far, and I feel like my head is going to explode. We had to meet in the kitchen of our church building (the rooms were being used) and then it didn't turn out to be a meeting, as we were going to do some visits, which I wasn't prepared for. I have no idea when our next meeting will be. Two of the four of us don't even have the internet at their house, and one of those doesn't have a computer.
Right now my goal is to try and find positive, constructive ways to make the changes necessary for things to run the way they need to. Sadly, right now, all I can think of is saying "What the crap are you guys doing?? How do you even function??? This has got to change!!!" Obviously, that is not the best way to bring about change. I'm still working on it. Who knows when our next meeting will be, so I better be ready when the time comes. First one is slightly passive aggressive: bring an agenda. Because I think that is the best starting point....
Add to my admittedly small frustrations is the weather. Fall is coming. When we came home from California three weeks ago, leaves were already starting to change. The clouds have come back, and the temps are going down. The Northwest barely had a summer, so I'm not liking this change much. But since no one can control the weather, I just have to go with it, and bust out my vitamin D.
Can you tell I'm working on being positive? Sometimes it's really hard. Today it isn't so hard. Tomorrow is looking good too.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
I should really go to bed
But instead I am up. And I'm thinking about an experience today that I'm trying to wrap my brain around.
Here is the background:
Yesterday, as my kids were heading out to the bus stop, I noticed that there was a different sound that morning. It ended up being two small four-wheelers and a mini motorcycle being ridden by what looked like to me 10 year olds. They had helmets on, so I wasn't exactly sure of what neighborhood kids were doing the riding. It was also trash day, and both the recycle truck and regular trash truck were out. As well as the multiple buses and cars that come through the neighborhood at that time of day. These kids were going around and around the block. I think I came in and got something to eat and read my blogs. I could still hear them going outside. I went to my neighbors house, who has a big window in front making it easier to see, and she and I watched these kids for a few minutes. As we were watching, the police show up. And perhaps this is where I made a mistake. But as the policeman was talking to the kids, I went over to make sure he knew just what they were doing, and how long they were doing it. At that point I recognized one of the kids. First bit of information is that the four-wheelers are illegal. I told the police officer that they had been out there for over an hour, and that no, it was not a late start day. Also that they had been going in and out of the bus zones while the buses were picking up kids. I told them they shouldn't be doing what they were doing, and that they better get home. I didn't even know where these kids even lived. So it wasn't as if I could go and talk to the parent.
Today, while looking for my independent Blondie, the parent of these kids confronts me and tells me that I was rude to her kids.
It did not go well. I was extremely tired today, but as it was also Superhero's birthday, I had pushed myself to get some important things done. Then had fallen asleep while my husband took Superhero and a neighbor boy on a bike ride. I had just woken up from my accidental nap, and I am being yelled at because I told some kids that they shouldn't be doing what they are doing. I mean, someone had called the police (I later found out who it was) because of their behavior, so it isn't just me that thinks this.
I was tired, it was unexpected, and I did not respond in the best way.
Also, I am one of those moms that is going to get after your kid when you're not around. I have gotten after several kids in the neighborhood multiple times. Usually it is because they are bullying my kids, or walking through my backyard (our owner refuses to put up a fence). It is equal opportunity for me. If I'm watching your kids, they are treated like mine. I'll put them in time out, get after them to clean up. I hope that others would do the same for mine. I forget sometimes that there are these crazy parents that not only do they not discipline or have expectations for their kids, but will get upset at you for calling out their kids for their poor behavior.
Like I said, things did not go well. My plan for now is this: To go to her tomorrow and apologize for my reaction. It was not a good one. But also to be clear that I will get after her children if they are doing something that will harm them or others. And especially if they are doing something at or to my kids. And it just might be rude. I know I can't have high expectations of what she'll say. I expect I'll get called psycho, like I overheard her calling me earlier, maybe some other colorful things. Whatever. I need to apologize for how I reacted, but also make clear what kind of parent I am. I don't mind getting yelled at for doing the right thing. I only wish I had been the one to call the cops.
Luckily, we'll probably be moving soon. So I won't have to deal with her for much longer. And, the weather will start to get cooler, and the kids won't be outside as much.
And now I'm going to sleep on these thoughts. I may wake up and decide not to do anything at all. Lets see what the morning brings....
Here is the background:
Yesterday, as my kids were heading out to the bus stop, I noticed that there was a different sound that morning. It ended up being two small four-wheelers and a mini motorcycle being ridden by what looked like to me 10 year olds. They had helmets on, so I wasn't exactly sure of what neighborhood kids were doing the riding. It was also trash day, and both the recycle truck and regular trash truck were out. As well as the multiple buses and cars that come through the neighborhood at that time of day. These kids were going around and around the block. I think I came in and got something to eat and read my blogs. I could still hear them going outside. I went to my neighbors house, who has a big window in front making it easier to see, and she and I watched these kids for a few minutes. As we were watching, the police show up. And perhaps this is where I made a mistake. But as the policeman was talking to the kids, I went over to make sure he knew just what they were doing, and how long they were doing it. At that point I recognized one of the kids. First bit of information is that the four-wheelers are illegal. I told the police officer that they had been out there for over an hour, and that no, it was not a late start day. Also that they had been going in and out of the bus zones while the buses were picking up kids. I told them they shouldn't be doing what they were doing, and that they better get home. I didn't even know where these kids even lived. So it wasn't as if I could go and talk to the parent.
Today, while looking for my independent Blondie, the parent of these kids confronts me and tells me that I was rude to her kids.
It did not go well. I was extremely tired today, but as it was also Superhero's birthday, I had pushed myself to get some important things done. Then had fallen asleep while my husband took Superhero and a neighbor boy on a bike ride. I had just woken up from my accidental nap, and I am being yelled at because I told some kids that they shouldn't be doing what they are doing. I mean, someone had called the police (I later found out who it was) because of their behavior, so it isn't just me that thinks this.
I was tired, it was unexpected, and I did not respond in the best way.
Also, I am one of those moms that is going to get after your kid when you're not around. I have gotten after several kids in the neighborhood multiple times. Usually it is because they are bullying my kids, or walking through my backyard (our owner refuses to put up a fence). It is equal opportunity for me. If I'm watching your kids, they are treated like mine. I'll put them in time out, get after them to clean up. I hope that others would do the same for mine. I forget sometimes that there are these crazy parents that not only do they not discipline or have expectations for their kids, but will get upset at you for calling out their kids for their poor behavior.
Like I said, things did not go well. My plan for now is this: To go to her tomorrow and apologize for my reaction. It was not a good one. But also to be clear that I will get after her children if they are doing something that will harm them or others. And especially if they are doing something at or to my kids. And it just might be rude. I know I can't have high expectations of what she'll say. I expect I'll get called psycho, like I overheard her calling me earlier, maybe some other colorful things. Whatever. I need to apologize for how I reacted, but also make clear what kind of parent I am. I don't mind getting yelled at for doing the right thing. I only wish I had been the one to call the cops.
Luckily, we'll probably be moving soon. So I won't have to deal with her for much longer. And, the weather will start to get cooler, and the kids won't be outside as much.
And now I'm going to sleep on these thoughts. I may wake up and decide not to do anything at all. Lets see what the morning brings....
Thursday, September 8, 2011
A bit of a rant
This last Sunday was Fast Sunday at church. Meaning that most of the ward (congregation) fasts. And rather than have scheduled speakers for the meeting, those who feel inspired to do so, can go up to the pulpit and bear testimony. These Sundays can be awesome or make you want to hide under your pew and hope there aren't any non-members in the crowd.
This past Sunday wasn't too bad. But then someone got up, someone who I like, and for whatever reason started talking about how women don't need the priesthood because we get to have babies. And other stuff.
My head exploded.
Here is the deal people. Men in our church get the priesthood regardless of if they are a parent. In fact, they get it at 12. And as long as they don't royally screw up, they can keep it, use it, for the rest of their lives, regardless of if they are married or not.
Women get nothing at 12. Women may or may not get married. And even then, they still may not have kids, some by choice, some because either their body or their husbands does not want to do what it should. 25% of pregnancies end before they are full term. That means 1 out of every 4 pregnancies people. And unfortunately, some of us women get more than our share of losing pregnancies, or just not getting pregnant at all.
My point: priesthood does not equal motherhood.
Am I saying that I want the priesthood??? Heck no. While I believe that at some point women in our church will have it, that isn't what this post is about. What I am looking for is more women in leadership positions. Having their opinions count just as much, and the men not holding the priesthood over our heads like they have some higher authority, that somehow we women don't have access to....uh, no. I would also like to have women valued not because they can have babies but because of who they are. Women that aren't married have a lot to give. Women without children have a lot to give. And I think they are sadly undervalued in our church.
Recently I heard about this Mormen Men blog. He writes about how feminism in our church is emasculating the men, and how the men need to take back the power, and get these women to be more submissive, to get these men to get their 'Game' back. (and yes, he capitalizes it) I didn't bother to read the blog, but then my curiosity got the best of me after I read a bit of his ex-wife's blog. He had cheated on her, but because she wasn't as submissive and willing to lose this amount of weight, or grow her hair out, so he said it was her fault. I wish I were joking. Unfortunately, he has made both of his blogs private because of all the hits he was getting from this blog. While I am a more moderate type of a feminist (I don't want the priesthood, just wish there were more women voices being heard, and our issues taken more seriously) I was truly laughing out loud at this guys blog.
After hearing what my friend had to say from the pulpit (and knowing she was about to go and teach the young women pretty much the same thing since she also shared that from the pulpit) and then reading this man's blogs....I just could not believe it.
Luckily, for the most part, my parents did not display this attitude in our home. My parents come from very strong mothers, who when they had to, did what they had to do, regardless of what society may have told them about mothers working or women getting college degrees and actually using them. I have been a very independent person my entire life. I cannot even imagine having to 'submit' to my husband, do my hair they way he liked, and pretty much be subject to his every whim......I wouldn't last a month. I also believe that while being a mother is a HUGE part of my life, there are also other parts that are also just as important in the shaping of who I am. Just like having the priesthood does not define who a man is, neither does motherhood. It is only a part. And I hope that this attitude, especially in our church, becomes what is being taught, rather than this other stuff that makes my head (and my heart) feel like they are going to explode....
I had an experience about five or so years ago. We were currently living in San Antonio TX. Before we lived in Texas, we had lived in Germany for two and a half years. When we got back to the states, we made a short visit home, which is Southern California for both my husband and I. About two months later, my grandpa passed away, so I flew back for two weeks with my kids. But I really wanted to drive and spend a longer time, and really wanted to spend some time at my sisters house. She lived right off the route I would take, and I wanted my kids to be able to spend time with their cousins. My husband was very concerned about me. It is about 1400 miles from San Antonio to Los Angeles. He told me he didn't want me driving at night, and that I had to be careful getting a hotel etc. He almost didn't want me to go because he thought I wouldn't be safe without him. Which really ticked me off. Tell me I can't do something and then watch me do it. Obviously, I made the trip just fine. Yes, it was hard. Driving with two toddlers that far isn't exactly a picnic. But it was worth it. We had a small get together since it was my kids birthdays. Both my side and my husbands side of the family were invited. My father in law, who on his fourth wife finally has a doormat he can walk all over, said that if I were his wife, he wouldn't 'let' me go. LET me??? Are you serious??? My husband didn't LET me. I didn't 'ask his permission'. I have encountered more of this attitude with my husbands family than with mine. So I know my husband still has bits and pieces of it floating around in him. He has come a long way in the ten years we've been married. Since that first long drive, I have driven many places, many of them hundreds of miles away, all alone, with no problems. I spent a year on my own while he was deployed. I have had to be alone numerous times as he does military training. If I subscribed to this other way of thinking (submitting to my husband and other stupid things like that) I would be a mess. I HAVE to make decisions for myself. I have to be a strong parent to make up for him being gone sometimes. To deal with and help my children deal with our moves.
My daughter has a very strong personality. The attitude from my father in law would damage her. She would just rebel. I want to raise her, within my church, to know she is heard. That she is a multidimensional person, and she is valued because of who she is, not because she has a uterus and ovaries. I want to be an example of that. She is too young to really comprehend what was being said from the pulpit that day, so as things come up, we'll deal with them. My husband probably isn't 100% with me on this, as I know he was taught somewhat differently and had very different examples of women in his life. But I think he will come around as time passes on as he realizes what it means for this little independent soul we have running around.
I see a better future for women, just as our predecessors saw for us. I am grateful for them. I hope things are even better for my daughter, so that things like what I heard this last Sunday aren't heard from the pulpit anymore.
This past Sunday wasn't too bad. But then someone got up, someone who I like, and for whatever reason started talking about how women don't need the priesthood because we get to have babies. And other stuff.
My head exploded.
Here is the deal people. Men in our church get the priesthood regardless of if they are a parent. In fact, they get it at 12. And as long as they don't royally screw up, they can keep it, use it, for the rest of their lives, regardless of if they are married or not.
Women get nothing at 12. Women may or may not get married. And even then, they still may not have kids, some by choice, some because either their body or their husbands does not want to do what it should. 25% of pregnancies end before they are full term. That means 1 out of every 4 pregnancies people. And unfortunately, some of us women get more than our share of losing pregnancies, or just not getting pregnant at all.
My point: priesthood does not equal motherhood.
Am I saying that I want the priesthood??? Heck no. While I believe that at some point women in our church will have it, that isn't what this post is about. What I am looking for is more women in leadership positions. Having their opinions count just as much, and the men not holding the priesthood over our heads like they have some higher authority, that somehow we women don't have access to....uh, no. I would also like to have women valued not because they can have babies but because of who they are. Women that aren't married have a lot to give. Women without children have a lot to give. And I think they are sadly undervalued in our church.
Recently I heard about this Mormen Men blog. He writes about how feminism in our church is emasculating the men, and how the men need to take back the power, and get these women to be more submissive, to get these men to get their 'Game' back. (and yes, he capitalizes it) I didn't bother to read the blog, but then my curiosity got the best of me after I read a bit of his ex-wife's blog. He had cheated on her, but because she wasn't as submissive and willing to lose this amount of weight, or grow her hair out, so he said it was her fault. I wish I were joking. Unfortunately, he has made both of his blogs private because of all the hits he was getting from this blog. While I am a more moderate type of a feminist (I don't want the priesthood, just wish there were more women voices being heard, and our issues taken more seriously) I was truly laughing out loud at this guys blog.
After hearing what my friend had to say from the pulpit (and knowing she was about to go and teach the young women pretty much the same thing since she also shared that from the pulpit) and then reading this man's blogs....I just could not believe it.
Luckily, for the most part, my parents did not display this attitude in our home. My parents come from very strong mothers, who when they had to, did what they had to do, regardless of what society may have told them about mothers working or women getting college degrees and actually using them. I have been a very independent person my entire life. I cannot even imagine having to 'submit' to my husband, do my hair they way he liked, and pretty much be subject to his every whim......I wouldn't last a month. I also believe that while being a mother is a HUGE part of my life, there are also other parts that are also just as important in the shaping of who I am. Just like having the priesthood does not define who a man is, neither does motherhood. It is only a part. And I hope that this attitude, especially in our church, becomes what is being taught, rather than this other stuff that makes my head (and my heart) feel like they are going to explode....
I had an experience about five or so years ago. We were currently living in San Antonio TX. Before we lived in Texas, we had lived in Germany for two and a half years. When we got back to the states, we made a short visit home, which is Southern California for both my husband and I. About two months later, my grandpa passed away, so I flew back for two weeks with my kids. But I really wanted to drive and spend a longer time, and really wanted to spend some time at my sisters house. She lived right off the route I would take, and I wanted my kids to be able to spend time with their cousins. My husband was very concerned about me. It is about 1400 miles from San Antonio to Los Angeles. He told me he didn't want me driving at night, and that I had to be careful getting a hotel etc. He almost didn't want me to go because he thought I wouldn't be safe without him. Which really ticked me off. Tell me I can't do something and then watch me do it. Obviously, I made the trip just fine. Yes, it was hard. Driving with two toddlers that far isn't exactly a picnic. But it was worth it. We had a small get together since it was my kids birthdays. Both my side and my husbands side of the family were invited. My father in law, who on his fourth wife finally has a doormat he can walk all over, said that if I were his wife, he wouldn't 'let' me go. LET me??? Are you serious??? My husband didn't LET me. I didn't 'ask his permission'. I have encountered more of this attitude with my husbands family than with mine. So I know my husband still has bits and pieces of it floating around in him. He has come a long way in the ten years we've been married. Since that first long drive, I have driven many places, many of them hundreds of miles away, all alone, with no problems. I spent a year on my own while he was deployed. I have had to be alone numerous times as he does military training. If I subscribed to this other way of thinking (submitting to my husband and other stupid things like that) I would be a mess. I HAVE to make decisions for myself. I have to be a strong parent to make up for him being gone sometimes. To deal with and help my children deal with our moves.
My daughter has a very strong personality. The attitude from my father in law would damage her. She would just rebel. I want to raise her, within my church, to know she is heard. That she is a multidimensional person, and she is valued because of who she is, not because she has a uterus and ovaries. I want to be an example of that. She is too young to really comprehend what was being said from the pulpit that day, so as things come up, we'll deal with them. My husband probably isn't 100% with me on this, as I know he was taught somewhat differently and had very different examples of women in his life. But I think he will come around as time passes on as he realizes what it means for this little independent soul we have running around.
I see a better future for women, just as our predecessors saw for us. I am grateful for them. I hope things are even better for my daughter, so that things like what I heard this last Sunday aren't heard from the pulpit anymore.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Hard
So, just in case you didn't know, I am human.
I also, you know, sometimes, try to be Christlike. And when I say that, I mean to do what He would do if He were here. I have my good moments and my bad, just like everyone.
But there is one big thing that I have REALLY had a hard time 'being Christlike' about.
Almost every time it comes up, I get angry. I get angry because I remember. I get angry because I feel that I never got to say what I needed to say. I get angry for some other reasons, too. I thought I was improving, thought I was almost getting to the point of letting go, so that I could get to the other important characteristic of Christ...forgiving.
I don't forgive well. It has been a huge difficulty of mine ever since I was a kid. And it doesn't get any easier as an adult, with adult issues with other adults.
Lets just say I would rather be dealing with my sister who hit me than this situation.
So, back to forgiving.....still working on it.
I also, you know, sometimes, try to be Christlike. And when I say that, I mean to do what He would do if He were here. I have my good moments and my bad, just like everyone.
But there is one big thing that I have REALLY had a hard time 'being Christlike' about.
Almost every time it comes up, I get angry. I get angry because I remember. I get angry because I feel that I never got to say what I needed to say. I get angry for some other reasons, too. I thought I was improving, thought I was almost getting to the point of letting go, so that I could get to the other important characteristic of Christ...forgiving.
I don't forgive well. It has been a huge difficulty of mine ever since I was a kid. And it doesn't get any easier as an adult, with adult issues with other adults.
Lets just say I would rather be dealing with my sister who hit me than this situation.
So, back to forgiving.....still working on it.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Kids and poop
Last night, my neighbors nephews were over at my house. The younger one is about the same age as Blondie. They were over at my neighbors house and the boys wanted to come over to our house. Which was fine.
Our downstairs bathroom is right next to the front door (yet another odd thing about this house floor plan....the dining room is also right as you walk in, and I have to walk through the living room to get to the dining room....anyway) and I heard the youngest one in the bathroom, and he went back to my neighbors as soon as he was done.
Superhero went in a little bit later to use the bathroom, and came out with the news that there was poop on the wall. I knew right away it had to be that little guy. So, I'm thinking it is a little bit of smudges on the wall. Oh no. When I get in there to take a look....wow. 5 or 6 smudges that were pretty big, and a chunk of poop sticking out an inch from the wall. Wow. I thought it was hysterical.
I called over, hoping he was still there so he could come over and clean it up, but they had already left. My neighbor came over and cleaned it. She made the point that she would never call out another kid on doing something like that. That it would be too embarrassing.
Maybe I'm weird, but I would totally get the kid that did it, and have them clean it up. I wouldn't announce it over a loud speaker or anything, but I sure would give them what they needed to clean it up and have them do it. You make a mess, you clean it up. Yeah, it would be embarrassing at first, but why the heck did they do it in the first place??? I guess I'm just a big fan of natural consequences at my house. What would you do? Would you not say anything? Would you just talk to them about it? Would you let their parent do the talking? Or, would you do what I would do, and have the kid do the dirty work?
When kids are at my house, I treat them like my own. And my good friends treat mine like theirs. I would hope that if my kids EVER did something like that, and I wasn't around, they would have consequences.
Our downstairs bathroom is right next to the front door (yet another odd thing about this house floor plan....the dining room is also right as you walk in, and I have to walk through the living room to get to the dining room....anyway) and I heard the youngest one in the bathroom, and he went back to my neighbors as soon as he was done.
Superhero went in a little bit later to use the bathroom, and came out with the news that there was poop on the wall. I knew right away it had to be that little guy. So, I'm thinking it is a little bit of smudges on the wall. Oh no. When I get in there to take a look....wow. 5 or 6 smudges that were pretty big, and a chunk of poop sticking out an inch from the wall. Wow. I thought it was hysterical.
I called over, hoping he was still there so he could come over and clean it up, but they had already left. My neighbor came over and cleaned it. She made the point that she would never call out another kid on doing something like that. That it would be too embarrassing.
Maybe I'm weird, but I would totally get the kid that did it, and have them clean it up. I wouldn't announce it over a loud speaker or anything, but I sure would give them what they needed to clean it up and have them do it. You make a mess, you clean it up. Yeah, it would be embarrassing at first, but why the heck did they do it in the first place??? I guess I'm just a big fan of natural consequences at my house. What would you do? Would you not say anything? Would you just talk to them about it? Would you let their parent do the talking? Or, would you do what I would do, and have the kid do the dirty work?
When kids are at my house, I treat them like my own. And my good friends treat mine like theirs. I would hope that if my kids EVER did something like that, and I wasn't around, they would have consequences.
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