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 fiancée 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. 

Things I Wish People Had Told Me Before I Married

I will be honest with you; not many people told me things that were actually helpful before I got married. It became really easy to identify who would give me what sort of advice. The ones who had gone through several serious marital (or nearly marital) relationships would “wish me luck” with a sarcasm that said their relationships had been poisonous, so I should expect that too. The ones who had worked through a marriage that was difficult always said that the rose-coloured glasses would come off, and I was in for a rough life. People who were happy in their marriage were most genuine in wishing me a blessed future, usually saying – quite honestly – that marriage is hard, sometimes, but also a great joy. When I married, the advice had been so inconsistent, I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I found that all of the advice and none of it truly applied to us. There were some things, however, that I wished people had told me before I married; since people are marrying every day, I wanted to share these things and hopefully help others either about to be married, new to marriage, or perhaps even wrinkling. The list is, of course, determined by my personal experiences, so it won’t apply exclusively.

1.      People say that if you act in the way you want your partner to act, they will change. I think a lot of women translate this to “if I always serve my husband well in this action, he will serve me well in ____” Sorry. It doesn’t work that way. You have to actually say: “I consider this service to be an equal to this service. Even though it’s hard for me to ____, I do that out of love for you. I know ______ is hard for you, but could you sacrifice a little in honour of mine?” It isn’t selfish to ask for what you want as long as you’re willing to allow your spouse to ask for what he or she wants.

2.      We’ve all heard that we shouldn’t nag and we need to love our spouses in spite of faults, but you occasionally need to lecture each other. You don’t have parents, anymore, who can tell you your motives are off, your actions are childish, or you’re doing something wrong. The hard thing is to choose those lectures well, and I will emphasize the word sparingly. You might only need to say one sentence, depending on how well you phrase and communicate what you’re saying. Make sure you aren’t being accusatory, have the right motives, and be certain that you’re actually pointing out something that will make a permanent difference in your lives. You don’t need to lecture your spouse about not doing the dishes or remembering a promise, because those are temporary and can be fixed gently. You may need to call attention to ways that your spouse handles stress or manipulates you, with or without realizing.

3.      And here’s the one that might make people uncomfortable, but I’m going to say it anyway, because it has been vital to my own marriage and is applicable to all marriages: have sex as often as the spouse with the highest sex drive wants to have sex. Better yet, if one of you feels the inclination, it had better happen. This will be really hard for the person with the lower sex drive. There is no way around it, because you are two people with two different brains and two different bodies. Why do I emphasize this so strongly? Because infidelity is one of the top reasons for divorce. Adultery on the side of the man is a little more complicated than that (my next point), but in general, why shouldn’t you err on the safe side? Paul says people should marry so that they don’t have to “burn with passion” (1 Corinthians 7:9). If your spouse is interested in sex and you say you aren’t interested or you’re tired, they will desire a release elsewhere, even if that wouldn’t be their first inclination. Obviously, the first inclination was to share passion with you! It is a sacrifice, but it’s worth it.

4.      Men aren’t made like women. Relationships to women are permanent, lasting, and are maintained even over long distances. To men, they are temporary, and it’s not so important to keep friends as to have them. When a woman moves from Arkansas to Colorado, she’s going to keep in touch with all her friends and probably make new ones. A guy will just make new friends and often not worry too much about past ones. All this to say: most men aren’t unfaithful because they want to be. Because men and women view relationships so differently, I would imagine that many couples deal with unfaithfulness on some level or other, whether it be looking at pictures of other women, watching pornography, wanting other women (fleetingly or not), or sleeping with them. This is something that women, as wives, teach their husbands – to value the relationship and remember that it is meant to be maintained over time. And they will probably have to do it multiple times. Wives, it is crushing, and it will break your heart, but it isn’t because he doesn’t love you or want you. He just needs to learn to constantly remind himself that he chose you, and by choosing you, he chose to forsake all others. And you can help by reminding him and being understanding and loving when he slips.

There are other things, of course, that have been helpful, such as “Don’t expect your spouse to read your mind.” Oh, yes. I needed that one. Or, my personal favourite: “your spouse will do things that drive you crazy. Get over it.” Essentially, marriage is hard in that people are selfish beings. When you aim to serve your spouse in your marriage, it seems like every hardship is smoothed over as a result of service itself. If something is hard, it’s probably because one of you is holding on to something and refusing to step out of the “safe” or “comfortable” zone. Once you recognize that, you can attack a problem by seeking out whatever may be holding you back and fixing it.

And speaking of service, I should fix my husband’s lunch. 

Autistic Love: Challenging the Definition

Introduction: Before I write a sentence about what I plan to address, I want to briefly say this: I am in no way an expert on Autism – or any other neural development disorder I may mention. I am basing my opinions upon hours of research, yes, and the copious amount of time I’ve spent with such children and adults, but I realize that these things don’t make me right. This essay is actually a watered down idea I’ve been considering and preparing to write for several years. I write about it not because I want to make others seem silly/stupid or because I want to seem smart… but I have a theory that I think is important to think about, and I believe it may be applicable to other situations.

This essay is all about challenging definitions. One definition, actually: the definition of love. Now, I’m not talking about the typical arguments about how romantic love is not the same as familial love is not the same as philia (love between friends) is not the same as eros (erotic love) is not the same as agape (a love only experienced through God). Am I crazy? Definitely, because I’m about to say something fanatical: love is not dimensional. What do I mean by that? Basically, that love cannot be measured, weighed, or limited by our minds. It is limitless and cannot be defined by any one factor except that it is what sets us apart from animals, thus it serves as the copyright of God on our souls. This is incredibly important to understand, because it means that you cannot assume you know every aspect from which it can be seen.

Now for the other bookend: autism. I have studied this and many similar disorders with great interest for six or seven years, reading about upcoming treatments, possible causes, and whatever else I can find. I have worked with them extensively, as well. One of the classifying definitions of autism is emotional detachment. Basically, it is believed that autistic children are unable to understand and communicate emotions. In other words, autistic children are said to be unable to love.

When I first started reading about this particular aspect of autism, I felt incredibly sad for the parents of such children. I thought it must be horrible – almost unbearable – to raise a child who was incapable of loving or understanding love. It was the aspect of this order which held the most interest for me, because I was curious about how parents dealt with that. The accounts I read were heartbreaking, and my sympathies grew. However, I also realized that I was becoming increasingly more uncomfortable with the definition. There were several reasons for this.

1. In all my work with autistic children, their responses to individuals, though abnormal in comparison with other children, differed according to whom they had received the most loving treatment. They weren’t necessarily more kind, but they might sit next to them when playing, watch them more carefully than others, or show some other sign of watchful attention.

2. We are said to be created in the image of God. 1st John 4:7-8 states: “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. He who does not love does not know God, for God is love.” If you believe the Bible to be infallible, if you believe that anyone can enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, and if you believe that God is just, then it is impossible for you to believe that anyone is born unable to love.

3. Love is not limited by our definition. If God is love, and this is as inexplicable as the Holy Trinity or as eternity. They exist, we see evidences of them, and we even can almost explain them, but there are aspects of these things which cannot be illustrated in a way that our brains can comprehend.

Taking these three things into account, I had to challenge my own assumptions, because I realized that I had believed my entire life that love was shown through communication of emotions, desires, and service. When the wish for closeness and communication is absent, what is there left to love with? A great example of the limitations would be the five love languages: receiving gifts, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and acts of service (for more details, go here: http://www.5lovelanguages.com/). These definitions can be helpful in communicating love to people who understand, but those with the inability to understand are left with nothing. Many autistic children like regularity, being alone, being in the quiet, etc. It is not in their “nature” to accept love as we define it.

Here is my challenge to you: who is to say that love can only be communicated in ways we understand? I think every person in this world is equally capable of showing love, but we have limited them because of our rigid understanding of how that can be displayed. I show love by hugging people, but I have quickly learned that many autistic children don’t want to be touched. They were not limited by their autism but rather by my definitions of how they should act. When I realized this, I learned to recognize and communicate love in ways they understood. And every child is different! It’s a learning process, as much as with developing any relationship.

Autistic children can’t love? Ridiculous. It’s time to recognize the limits of our definitions and allow them to express love in ways they understand. We might not be able to identify these acts of love, because their language is awkward to us, just as ours is awkward to them. Not understanding does not equal absence.

Some Days... Are Some Days

Have you ever had one of those days where you feel almost unbearably grumpy - you say something in a sharp tone and then inwardly kick yourself? Right now, I feel that way, and it has a lot to do with having a migraine, today. So, I'm thankful for the little things.

I'm thankful that I don't have migraines every day, as opposed to once or twice a week.

I'm glad that I can talk to Abbie about the dangers of shaving your legs when you have goosebumps (razor burn sucks; let me tell you).

I'm thankful that I can be a good friend when it's important - even if sometimes I feel like I'm failing.

I'm thankful when God shows me what there is to be thankful for.

I'm glad that I can shower in the dark without dying.

I'm thankful for Holy Week. It's so awesome.

I'm thankful that it is so easy to smile - even when I'm in pain.

I'm thankful that my memories are so clear. I can remember the best and brightest of them when I'm low.

I'm thankful that it's a rainy, cloudy day.

I'm thankful that we're having supper soon.

I'm thankful that you all love me. That is a miracle, and I never take it for granted.

I love you all.

Sarah D.

Compassion and Integrity

How is the chief end of Man to be accomplished? (I do not feel the need to be politically correct, here). What is the chief end of Man? As many in the church have probably heard at least once, the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. In layman's terms: This should be the goal of a man's life.

I was recently having a conversation with my friend, David, about the legacy that a person leaves behind. I was commenting on the disappointment I sometimes felt at being recognized for the things I could do rather than the way I lived. I mean, yes, I can sing pretty well... I'm good with special needs children... I'm a hard worker. So David posed this question: What did I want people to remember about me when I was gone? What legacy did I want to leave behind? I told him the following: I want to be known for the passionate love I have for people. I want to be known for my honesty, compassion, and integrity.

As I thought about this to myself, this week, I found myself wondering if those following things really are meant to be my legacy. Sure, it would be nice to have people think well of me, but is that what God wants? Does He really care? When applying the exact characteristics I mentioned, the answer is yes and no. Yes, God wants us to leave behind an example of goodness - An example of His Son. No, it should not simply be our legacy. If I am known, when I die, as this person who could love so deeply and live with such integrity, it should be because of Who I lived in honour of. To glorify God, we live in the glorious, mirror image of His Son.

Now, the hard part. You think living righteously is hard, trying actually enjoying yourself! Okay - so it really shouldn't be that hard. In fact, I find it quite easy to enjoy God. This might mean different things for different people. For me, to enjoy God is to live with rapturous joy in the blessings He has provided me. Sometimes, I revel in the beautiful earth He has given me. People often tease me of my obsession with clouds... I love them because, to me, they boldly declare the wonders of God. Sometimes, I bask in the company of people that God has placed around me. I may not talk much, but just to be around people I love fills me with inexpressible joy. Sometimes, I sit in His sanctuary, wherever it may be at the moment (For Jesus has provided many forms of a sanctuary), and spend time in His Word. To enjoy God, enjoy what He has given you! Do not question Him, asking why He would give you something you do not deserve. Is that not like apologizing profusely? Praise the Lord for His gifts, whether they be wonders in nature, the people around you, the food on your plate! Whatever He has given, He has given to be enjoyed by His people.

I challenge you to live with integrity and joy in Christ. What better legacy can we leave?

TM

So Many Thoughts!

I realized, with shame, that I have not posted anything new for almost a year! Actually... Benny pointed it out. That makes me even more ashamed :(.

Oh, well! It's time to make it up to my nonexistent readers! :).

SO much has happened. A whole year of school, for instance. Also, a lot of important decisions have come into place: Majors, future education, relationships, work, etc. It has been totally crazy.

My fourth and final semester at Sandburg has been both my easiest and my hardest. I have taken all classes that I truly love, and that made it easy; however, I did take 18 or 19 hours. That is a lot of English and Music! I took two independent studies, which was a very big part of the great amount of time I have not had :). Tim also got a new job, this past year, so his teaching instruction in the music department was replaced by James Hutchings, who is, quite frankly, amazing. I feel like I have progressed with him, developing my musicianship, more than with most other music teachers I have had - at least equal with all of them. I wish I could take more from him, but I don't see that happening :). I'm also sad to leave Mr. Burdick, who has been my steady anchor through both years of school. He told me that I took more of his classes than any student he had ever had. I was fortunate: I took six :). He spent the first year trying to convince me to change my major to English, which I did end up doing, to his great pleasure.

In my work life, I still work with Steven, one of my dearest loves and joys. I find myself more inspired by him every day. He reminds me to forget yesterday and do my best at the moment I am currently living :). I work with him again, this Summer, my fourth Summer with him. I am hoping to introduce him to several people, too, who have heard me speak of him.

In my spiritual life, I have recently have several epiphanies which cannot be spoken plainly, I do not think; however, God has been steadfast and patient with me. It has been a hard year, and I would not have made it without the shadow of His right hand.

In my personal life, I have made many new friends - more than I ever thought I would - and I think several of them are forever friends. I am thinking of a couple in particular: David and Benny. Hopefully they will be known better to my other friends and family in future. There are, of course, other friends to be known! Ian, Nathan Scott, Gracie, Er!ka, Cleopatra (Edward), Brandon, Nate, Lanae, Reed, Dan, Beth, Stephenie, and the list goes on! I love people :).

That is all I will write for now. I will try my hardest to keep up with this. If I forget, my nonexistent readers will, I'm sure, put a bug in my ear :).

Mastiff's

I saw an add the other day that said English Mastiff's are smart and loving. The person who wrote it must have never met a Mastiff, or has never had experience with the smarter breeds. The loving part is true. My families mastiff is probably the most affectionate dog my family has ever had. But smart? No way. Lady chases her shadow on the wall, snorfs her food... She has the most distinct facial expressions I've ever seen on a dog. Whoever wrote the article must not have looked at the statistics either. The three smartest dogs are Collies, Poodles, and German Shepherds. English Mastiffs are number 73 on the smart list. My family jumped 70 dogs going from one dog to the next. (The dog before this one was a Shepherd.) But her affection makes up for her stupidity. She was worth the buy.

BTW! The article forgot to mention that big dogs are not easy to have... Especially if they weigh over 100 pounds, like mine.