Friday, November 28, 2014

Thoughts On Young Dumbledore and WWII

I remember reading the last Harry Potter book in its entirety the day it came out. I've since read it probably five times, enjoying it more each time, and still discovering new things. I'm sure I wasn't the only person who was shocked (and maybe a little hurt) when I read about Dumbledore's teen and young adult years – the years he spent fawning over Grindelwald, succumbing to his influence and supporting the ideas of pure blood in the wizarding world. Although he hadn't shown any signs of hating muggles and “dirty bloods” before or after this time in his life, the idea that he had ever had such leanings was startling, and I was really disappointed.

In the midst of my shock, however, I found myself irritated with Harry for being so angry with Dumbledore's actions. I felt that it was unfair to expect so much of him when Harry himself hadn't ever been in the same position. Sure, he could say he wouldn't have acted the same, but how could he know for sure?

It reminds me a lot of how people react to Germany in WWII. This country seemed too quick to accept the influence of Hitler. Never mind how much he did to help Germany or the fact that he was like a balm to them when they were trying to recover themselves and their pride after WWI. Never mind his adeptness at speaking and seemingly harmless ease of influence.

Like Germany, Dumbledore was recovering from great loss, feeling abandoned and a new, frightening sense of responsibility. Like the people there, he was quick to come under the banner of someone who made him feel powerful again – someone who gave him a new purpose to live for. And like that country, he also came to recognize his faults and did his best to never be associated with the mistakes of his past. And, like so many other countries, Harry was quick to see fault in Dumbledore. Instead of seeing vulnerability, he saw weakness. Rather than accounting for the changes and improvements that were clear in Dumbledore's later life, he took offense at the past, taking pride in the assumption that he could never make the same mistake.

God forbid.

I don't think this similarity was lost on Rowling. In fact, I would guess it was intentional, though she hasn't said that outright. She has, however, pointed out that the fall of Grindelwald coincides with the downfall of Hitler in 1945. And let's not look over the fact that the character has a German name and was accused of causing great turmoil in all Europe.


I think there's an important lesson to be learned from this aspect of the Potter books, as well as from the parallel in history. We can't be quick to judge people's mistakes – especially when they are in a weakened state. Although there are people who rise above wrongful influences, they are not a majority. There are powerful people, waiting on the sidelines, watching for frailty, and no culture or country is guaranteed insusceptibility. 

Thursday, November 13, 2014

My Crazy Path to Mommyhood

Thanks to the influence of my mother, I don’t think there was anything I ever wanted to be more than a homemaker. The idea of keeping a home, husband, and children appealed to me in a way nothing else could, and I grew up with that mindset. When I graduated from high school with no marital prospects, I went to college mostly because I couldn’t think of anything else to do while I waited for my husband to appear.

Thankfully, he didn’t take long.

Shoot forward about a year and a half. I’m engaged, long distance, and I get one of those calls that every fiancĂ©e dreads: the “maybe we should wait” call.

Benny knew how much I wanted a family. It was one of the first personal things I ever shared with him. He had at least two more years of college after we married – perhaps more, if he decided to get a higher degree – and having a family when only one of us could work, and the one of us working could only manage part-time, because of chronic illness, seemed irresponsible. I was adamantly opposed to contraception, as well, so he knew that was off the table, and suggested we should postpone our wedding until he graduated.

Although I understood his reasoning, I resisted the suggestion. After all, we needed some time, I thought, to learn to live together before children, and there were ways outside of contraception that could keep pregnancy at bay. It was hard for me to say I would wait for two entire years. I was twenty-two at the time, and I had hoped to start my family at eighteen. As crazy as it may sound to a progressive ear, I felt like I had already wasted three years, and I was saying I would give up two more. It was a huge sacrifice – especially because I had done my research and was aware that my chronic illness could mean I would not be able to have children for as many years as most women; however, establishing my marriage was more important to me, and even if it was hard, I felt it was the right decision.

Less than a year later, we were married. I loved being married. It was a new layer of life I hadn’t known could exist, and there was a new peace. I was designed by God for that life, and for nearly six months, I was content to simply be Benny’s wife. It got a lot harder when we had a pregnancy scare. I had been out of sorts, and several people suggested to me that I might be pregnant. Although I wasn’t convinced, I bought a test. When the negative came up, I could tell Benny was relieved, and I was relieved for him. What would a pregnancy do to the rest of his college career?  At the same time, I was heartbroken. I had secretly hoped I was pregnant. I got in the shower and cried for awhile, and for quite some time I was low in spirits. Benny could tell and knew why. He was incredibly kind and understanding, giving me space to mourn the baby I had never carried. Although I normally wouldn’t dare to equate my feelings to that of a woman who  has suffered a miscarriage, that was how it felt. Thankfully, I had only shared the possibility with a few people.

It was hard not only because I wanted a baby so badly but because there was a lot of pressure for us to start our family. People who knew little of our situation would suggest that we should get started pretty soon – to not wait too long – and although we knew they weren’t trying to make things difficult, it was still painful to hear. You can have the best intentions and still hurt people.

Almost exactly one year later, Benny was nearing the end of his last school year. Since the beginning of our marriage, I had had random “nightmares” about getting pregnant before Benny graduated. By January 2014, Benny told me that if I did get pregnant and was able to keep my job most of the pregnancy, we could make it work. Although we still weren’t trying to have a baby, this was a huge stress relief. As though God was testing Benny’s sincerity, less than a month later, I was pregnant. I was absolutely unprepared and knew it. There were many decisions we had planned to make before starting a family, and now we had to make them relatively quickly.

One big decision was one I had been putting off: where to have the baby. My mother had given birth in the hospital for all her babies, and Benny’s mother had given birth at home. When Benny told me he thought I should consider homebirths, I thought he was crazy. It sounded dangerous and foreign. I hadn’t imagined giving birth outside of a hospital, and I told him I wasn’t comfortable with the idea at all but I would think about it and do some research.

When I found out I was pregnant, I hadn’t done any research and I hadn’t really considered it an option. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Benny, because I knew he wouldn’t support something without being completely comfortable with it, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I read two articles with opposing points of view on the subject – both of which were well argued but neither of which made me comfortable with making the final decision.

Since I was still unsure, I asked a doctor in the area to recommend a doctor and hospital for us. I figured she would best know the system in the area, and I knew she had similar values to us, so I felt comfortable going with whatever advice she gave. I was surprised when she told me she thought I would be better off with a midwife and homebirth or birth center, and she even went so far as to recommend one. For the first time, I considered it, but I wanted to ask someone else in the medical field. I asked my sister-in-law – a labour and delivery nurse – for her thoughts. She, too, expressed confidence in the idea of a homebirth, telling me upsides and downsides, what to look for in a midwife, and telling me where I could get more information.

After feeling like I had been assured by these people, I then asked my mother-in-law and one of my sisters-in-law about their experiences and opinions, knowing that they had had homebirths. Both of them stressed that I should do whatever I felt safest doing, and they talked to me about their own research.

At this point, I felt like I could take the extra step of actually meeting with the midwives recommended to me. I called to make an appointment, not yet completely assured it was what I wanted to do but sure it was a safe option, and I would be free to change my mind at any time.

When I went in for my appointment, it was immediately clear that I wasn’t stepping into a weird world of mantras and amulets but a place of medical business. It was homey, certainly, but was clearly not granola or avoiding the medical aspect of the profession. Not only this, the midwife I met with was strikingly like my mother, and I felt safe and assured by her no-holds-barred approach and bluntness when I asked questions. Although it had been a foreign concept to me, and knowing I would probably get a lot of flak from people who disapproved of my decision, I settled on a homebirth, and I never questioned my decision from that point.

Pregnancy was both hard and good. A lot of my fibromyalgia symptoms dissipated over the period of the pregnancy. My morning sickness during the first trimester was nasty, though after that I had few serious problems until the third trimester. It was a peaceful pregnancy.

When it finally came to the labour, choosing a homebirth sure seemed like the right idea. It started so fast (minute long contractions, one to two minutes apart within two hours of it starting), I’m sure I wouldn’t have wanted to travel to the hospital. The midwives were there shortly after Benny called, letting us quietly (well, I guess they were quiet) labour, keeping an eye on my progress and monitoring the baby – our personal lifeguards in case anything went awry, giving advice and encouragement. When it was all over, I had a baby in my arms: sweet, little Eleanora.

I’m a mother! It’s still a surprise to me, sometimes. In a way, it’s a change… but at the same time, it feels completely natural. I’ve been preparing for it most of my life, and holding a small child in my arms, nursing her, caring for her, was what I was created to do. Already, I see little changes every day, and I know it will be over sooner than I can imagine. Getting here was hard, and I know the difficulties don’t end after labour, but I feel assured by these three things:

God created me for this.
My mother prepared me for this.
My husband supports me in this.


That’s all I need. 
"This is the mark of a really admirable man: Steadfastness in the face of trouble." Ludwig van Beethoven
"It is a sad fate for a man to die too well known to everyone else and still unknown to himself." Francis Bacon
It is a mindless philosophy that assumes that one's private beliefs have nothing to do with public office. Does it make sense to entrust those who are immoral in private with the power to determine the nation's moral issues and, indeed, its destiny? .... The duplicitous soul of a leader can only make a nation more sophisticated in evil. ~ Ravi Zacharias