Recently, several factors have caused Stephen and I to make the difficult decision to switch Benjamin to formula. It has been a super stressful decision for me especially because of the "Super Mom" expectations that seem to be going around. You know the expectations I mean.
There's the educational expectations:
"You must engage your baby in auditory, visual, and touch stimulating activities every moment of wakefulness, or they will grow up to develop a learning disability!"
"If your child is set in front of a television or other screen for any length of time, they will develop autism!"
"If your baby is not watching x amount of Baby Einstein per day, they will be developmentally behind their peers!" - You might be thinking, "Wait, doesn't this contradict the 'no screen time' rule?" That's another point (the point of everything contradicting something according to someone) I'll address later.
There's the sleep expectations:
"If your baby isn't sleeping through the night by 3 months, it's probably your fault and your child will forever be a sleep deprived zombie because you cannot exercise enough control to let them learn how to sleep on their own."
"If your baby isn't taking exactly 2 naps a day for 2 hours at a time and at the exact same time every single day, you are a selfish indulgent parent who doesn't know what's best for your child."
"If you don't run to your child's side at the moment he/she cries out, you are insensitive and heartless and probably shouldn't be a parent at all" or "If you don't wait for exactly 15 minutes from the moment you first hear your baby cry out to go to them, you will deprive your child any skills of self-pacifying and they will need you to tuck them in at night through their college years."
There's the nutritional expectations:
"What?! You're STILL breastfeeding? Isn't that weird? Gross? Inappropriate?"
"If you don't exclusively breast feed until your child is one years old, you are selfish and your child will grow up to be obese and will probably die from diabetes at the age of 40."
"You will never be able to form healthy ties of attachment to your child if you don't breastfeed, and you better do it at every whimper your child makes if you want that tie to be strong!"
And on and on and on it goes! You get the point. I'm only a young mother of one (and he's only 6.5 months old at that), but already I have been swept up in this tornado of expectations and it is extremely exhausting, to say the least.
EVERY single piece of advice (or expectation) I have been given (by other mothers and professionals alike) that concerns raising my son is contradicted somewhere by someone else who claims they have a "better way." It's ridiculous. With the exception of extreme situations like child abuse, THERE IS NO ONE RIGHT WAY TO DO ANYTHING! If we could all just realize that (almost) every mother is striving to do her best for her family, we could maybe be at peace with the fact that her methods may not match ours, and that's okay! We need to stop measuring our worth as a mother based on what so-and-so is doing down the street.
Yes, I do understand that research has backed up some of this stuff (breast milk is, in fact, better for a baby than formula is), and yes, I understand that some things are obviously better than others (it's probably a better idea to have your child play outside for some time than spend 8 hours on video games). Some of this stuff is pretty valid. But that's not my point. My point is that we spend so much time and energy judging the mom next door that we create these expectations of each other (some are impossible, by the way) which then creates this never-ending tornado of destruction plowing down the hearts of mothers everywhere, leaving sorrow, tears, and feelings of inadequacy in its wake.
What I think every mother needs to hear, and what I most certainly yearn to hear, is that she's doing a good job, that she's enough. I think that every mother just wants to feel competent and confident in her role as a nurturer of souls. I know that I would give anything to feel that way.
So let us not be critical of each other, or ourselves for that matter. God sends His children into our homes for a specific reason. He knows that we have something unique and special to give to that child-something that child needs. Remember that the next time you find yourself feeling inadequate. I'll work on it, too :)
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Thursday, October 17, 2013
My Little Love
While dating and engaged, Stephen and I had talked about how we wanted to wait at least a year, likely two, before we discussed having children. We wanted that time to get to know one another better, adjust to married life, and create some memories of just us. Yea...it took all but three months into our marriage before all the pregnant ladies and little babies all around Rexburg, ID made me baby hungry.
But still, we thought it best to wait a while longer. When we did decide the time was right to add to our family, I didn't quite anticipate how difficult that journey would be.
Month by month passed us by with false alarms, negative pregnancy tests, and broken hearts. Fear of infertility increased at a dramatic pace and it consumed me to the point where I had little or no peace in my life. Everyone around me seemed to get pregnant within a couple of months of trying or without even trying at all! I let the seed of bitterness find its way into my heart. Stephen and I had been promised children, but I wasn't seeing the reality of that promise as soon as I wanted and I began to doubt even God's ability to bless me when I was living my life like I was supposed to. I was miserable.
Coming up on a year of trying, a remarkable thing happened. Completely at my worst and having hit "rock bottom" months ago, I was broken and knew I needed help. I came across an article in the Ensign one Sunday while fasting for comfort. (https://www.lds.org/ensign/2012/06/learning-to-cope-with-infertility) It was the first time I had humbled myself enough to do so in the past year. The article talked about women in the Bible who had experienced infertility at some point in their lives and how they let the experience strengthen their faith. I empathized with Sarah, Rebekah, Hannah, and Elizabeth and was deeply touched by their stories. Particularly inspired by Hannah, I jumped into the Bible (the books of Samuel) to learn more about her. This is where a miracle took place for me.
I appreciated how the sorrows of Hannah were acknowledged so honestly. Too often I think we try to hide our sorrows in fear that others wont see us as a strong individual, or to give off the persona that we have it all together when in reality we don't. Elder Scott once said, "Heavenly Father does not want us to minimize our reactions to life. He asks that we accept what He gives us and then take to Him our feelings and the truth about our lives whatever they may be. If we can go to Him with absolute openness and say 'This is what is happening to me right now and this is what I feel,' then He can use that openness as a conduit to teach us how heal, how to repent, and forgive, and how to love." ("To Aquire Spiritual Guidance"-Ensign November 2006). This was a powerful realization for me and once I was able to go to my Heavenly Father in open honesty and sincere prayer, my heart was softened and I understood the Atonement in a deeper, more meaningful way.
I also learned from Hannah's story that I was overlooking some very significant blessings in my life because of one blessing I did not yet have. I had an incredible man by my side, I had the gospel in my life, and I had the chance to teach and influence children through my work! This was some chastisement I really needed and welcomed.
I learned so many things through these faithful sisters that I can't write them (or in this case type them) all down, but my attitude and outlook were changed dramatically for the better and I felt true peace for the first time in a year. I had come to really know that God was in control and knew what He was doing. We were pregnant two weeks later.
How we found out:
I was once again suspecting that I might be pregnant but I refused to take another test for several reasons: One, I was so sick of peeing on those plastic sticks (yes, I had taken many, many tests over the past year). Two, I swore I wouldn't pull out my stash (yes, I hid the remaining tests) until I was bent over the toilet hacking my guts up for at least a week. So I didn't.
A UTI finally sent me the doctor's way. Knowing that they would do a routine pregnancy test, I told them to not tell us the results (I didn't want to break down at the doctor's office again), to write me the prescription and just send us on our way. Well, that is exactly what they did. Stephen and I no sooner than walked out the door then I burst into tears, exclaiming that if I were pregnant, the nurse would have been smiling or SOMETHING. Stephen tried to reassure me with, "We don't know that. We did, after all, tell them to not tell us the results." I still wasn't hopeful. I climbed into our car, a complete wreck, and Stephen decided to go back into the office to get the results after all. While he was gone, I sat in the car praying with all the strength that I had that I would be able to accept the results, whatever they might be. Seconds later, Stephen came running full speed out the door with an ear-to-ear grin. WE WERE FINALLY PREGNANT!!! Of course I started crying all over again :) We said a prayer of gratitude before leaving the parkinglot and then headed to Walmart...to look at baby clothes :) It's a running joke now in my family that Stephen found out we were expecting before I did.
When we got home, I pulled out my stash of tests and happily peed on every one of those sticks, anxious to see that silly pink plus sign for myself.
I understand that for some, trying to conceive is an even more difficult journey and my heart aches for and with them. I hope and pray that those friends and family member of mine who are struggling can one day be comforted with God's peace.
In the end, I was so grateful we didn't get pregnant right away. There were valuable lessons learned in that year of trying that would have been lost. Also, Stephen and I had time to weather through some difficult trials our early years of marriage presented that a pregnancy/baby could have further complicated. It was a blessing in disguise.
But still, we thought it best to wait a while longer. When we did decide the time was right to add to our family, I didn't quite anticipate how difficult that journey would be.
Month by month passed us by with false alarms, negative pregnancy tests, and broken hearts. Fear of infertility increased at a dramatic pace and it consumed me to the point where I had little or no peace in my life. Everyone around me seemed to get pregnant within a couple of months of trying or without even trying at all! I let the seed of bitterness find its way into my heart. Stephen and I had been promised children, but I wasn't seeing the reality of that promise as soon as I wanted and I began to doubt even God's ability to bless me when I was living my life like I was supposed to. I was miserable.
Coming up on a year of trying, a remarkable thing happened. Completely at my worst and having hit "rock bottom" months ago, I was broken and knew I needed help. I came across an article in the Ensign one Sunday while fasting for comfort. (https://www.lds.org/ensign/2012/06/learning-to-cope-with-infertility) It was the first time I had humbled myself enough to do so in the past year. The article talked about women in the Bible who had experienced infertility at some point in their lives and how they let the experience strengthen their faith. I empathized with Sarah, Rebekah, Hannah, and Elizabeth and was deeply touched by their stories. Particularly inspired by Hannah, I jumped into the Bible (the books of Samuel) to learn more about her. This is where a miracle took place for me.
I appreciated how the sorrows of Hannah were acknowledged so honestly. Too often I think we try to hide our sorrows in fear that others wont see us as a strong individual, or to give off the persona that we have it all together when in reality we don't. Elder Scott once said, "Heavenly Father does not want us to minimize our reactions to life. He asks that we accept what He gives us and then take to Him our feelings and the truth about our lives whatever they may be. If we can go to Him with absolute openness and say 'This is what is happening to me right now and this is what I feel,' then He can use that openness as a conduit to teach us how heal, how to repent, and forgive, and how to love." ("To Aquire Spiritual Guidance"-Ensign November 2006). This was a powerful realization for me and once I was able to go to my Heavenly Father in open honesty and sincere prayer, my heart was softened and I understood the Atonement in a deeper, more meaningful way.
I also learned from Hannah's story that I was overlooking some very significant blessings in my life because of one blessing I did not yet have. I had an incredible man by my side, I had the gospel in my life, and I had the chance to teach and influence children through my work! This was some chastisement I really needed and welcomed.
I learned so many things through these faithful sisters that I can't write them (or in this case type them) all down, but my attitude and outlook were changed dramatically for the better and I felt true peace for the first time in a year. I had come to really know that God was in control and knew what He was doing. We were pregnant two weeks later.
How we found out:
I was once again suspecting that I might be pregnant but I refused to take another test for several reasons: One, I was so sick of peeing on those plastic sticks (yes, I had taken many, many tests over the past year). Two, I swore I wouldn't pull out my stash (yes, I hid the remaining tests) until I was bent over the toilet hacking my guts up for at least a week. So I didn't.
A UTI finally sent me the doctor's way. Knowing that they would do a routine pregnancy test, I told them to not tell us the results (I didn't want to break down at the doctor's office again), to write me the prescription and just send us on our way. Well, that is exactly what they did. Stephen and I no sooner than walked out the door then I burst into tears, exclaiming that if I were pregnant, the nurse would have been smiling or SOMETHING. Stephen tried to reassure me with, "We don't know that. We did, after all, tell them to not tell us the results." I still wasn't hopeful. I climbed into our car, a complete wreck, and Stephen decided to go back into the office to get the results after all. While he was gone, I sat in the car praying with all the strength that I had that I would be able to accept the results, whatever they might be. Seconds later, Stephen came running full speed out the door with an ear-to-ear grin. WE WERE FINALLY PREGNANT!!! Of course I started crying all over again :) We said a prayer of gratitude before leaving the parkinglot and then headed to Walmart...to look at baby clothes :) It's a running joke now in my family that Stephen found out we were expecting before I did.
When we got home, I pulled out my stash of tests and happily peed on every one of those sticks, anxious to see that silly pink plus sign for myself.
I understand that for some, trying to conceive is an even more difficult journey and my heart aches for and with them. I hope and pray that those friends and family member of mine who are struggling can one day be comforted with God's peace.
In the end, I was so grateful we didn't get pregnant right away. There were valuable lessons learned in that year of trying that would have been lost. Also, Stephen and I had time to weather through some difficult trials our early years of marriage presented that a pregnancy/baby could have further complicated. It was a blessing in disguise.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Love Story
So... I've finally entered the world of bloggers! I haven't the faintest idea what I am doing most of the time, so bear with me.
Lately Stephen and I have not had much quality time together between grad school, work, homework, and getting ready to move. It's been challenging to say the least, but we're making it.The other day while I was playing on the floor with our son, I started to think about all the ways our life together has changed, and it caused me to reminisce on our past. I think it's healthy for a relationship to reflect on how you fell in love with each other and the growth you've had since. Here's an account of my love story (as I reminisced):
Back in 2009, I had just completed my freshman year at Southern Utah University and was moving in with my sister, Brooke, for the summer break. Amanda (one of my very best friends) convinced me to try out her singles ward, which I had no intention of doing prior to that time. I gave it a shot and am forever grateful that I did.
I fell in love with the people in that ward and made many wonderful friendships and memories. One particular Sunday after I had spoken in sacrament meeting, a new member in our ward had introduced himself to me as Stephen Palmer. After some brief small talk, I went on my merry way, not giving Stephen a second thought nor seeing him again for months (though if you ask Stephen, this wasn't the case :) ).
Six months later, I was home from school again, this time for Christmas break. Recently having had my heart broken and former ideas of love mixed up, I was certainly not looking for a new relationship. I was actually considering becoming a nun, or a crazy cat lady with her 27 cats. Okay. So not really. But you get the point. I was basically avoiding boys like the plague. One night while out with some friends from my ward, I found myself in desperate need of some comfort. Emily (another good friend) went to find two brethren to give me a blessing. Lo and behold, this Stephen guy pops into the picture again and is the one who gives me the blessing. I'll be honest, I had completely forgotten about him and only reluctantly gave him my phone number when he asked for it that night. Grateful for the peace the blessing brought, but still uninterested in ANY guy, I forgot about Stephen. Again.
Later that month (while still on break) I found myself hanging out with Stephen every so often. See, I thought my friend Amanda was interested in him and I was trying to play match-maker. Little did I know that Stephen kept coming back to see me. While I had fun talking and hanging out with Stephen, I NEVER considered dating him, let alone thought that he was my "type." And so we became friends. We talked nearly every day from then on for about three months- Stephen asking me for girl advice and I complaining about previous boyfriends. It was the first time in my life I had ever had a sincere and genuine guy-friend and I loved it! Stephen was so easy to talk to and listened to my rants so patiently, throwing in his sympathy frustrations as well. I found myself looking forward to our conversations each day, even though I had returned to school in Southern Utah and Stephen had taken off for Rexburg, Idaho.
One difficult day about three months later, it was the one year mark of my father's passing and I was having a super hard time. Somewhere in the middle of that day, Stephen had sent me a yellow rose and a kind note that said he was thinking of me and hoped my day got better. It was then that I realized that maybe I had been looking for all of the wrong things in a guy, that maybe my ideas of love were not the real and lasting kind. I knew that there was something about Stephen that was so different from any other guy I had dated, but what I didn't realize right away was that that difference was something I wanted and needed. I began to question my desires to becoming a crazy cat lady, and then interest in Stephen blossomed :)
Ever so slowly, my heart opened again and I found myself dancing and singing to silly love songs, anticipating the next chance I'd have that day to talk to Stephen again.
Stephen took me hiking to watch the sunset on our first date and I was so impressed with his desire to genuinely get to know me, all the while giving me my space. I really enjoyed his company and decided that if he were to ask me on a second date, I'd definitely say yes. Well, that second date came and then led to a third, then a fourth, and a fifth... We were "officially dating" a month later :) So much for the convent.
Stephen and I dated for three months, which to some might seem like not long enough, but the amount of learning and growing that took place in those short three months made it feel profoundly longer. In those three months, I had come to understand and appreciate what real love is. I had learned that love isn't so much a matter of fireworks and butterflies (though those feelings have their place, too), and that it isn't all about floating up on cloud nine, oblivious to reality. I learned that real, lasting love makes you thrive in ways you could never have imagined. It causes you to see an imperfect person perfectly. It aspires you and brings the desire to rise above and be better than you are. I learned that the kind of love I wanted was more than what the fairy tales portrayed. I knew that I wanted someone who could challenge me, someone who could see all of my ugly sides and still believe that there is a more profound beauty somewhere inside that was worth fighting for. I wanted someone who could laugh and play with me and who believed that the "honeymoon" stage could last forever and was willing to work hard for it every day along with me. I wanted someone with whom I could face "make it or break it" challenges and know that we could rise out of it with a stronger love and devotion to each other. I knew that I needed someone who could love God more than he loved me, because it would be his love for God (and mine as well) that would hold us together during difficult times. I'm not a poet and likely never will be, but after you have experienced what real love tastes like, you just KNOW. I had tasted it, and I knew that I wanted to make Stephen mine forever. Lucky for me, Stephen felt the same way!
So no, I didn't experience light-headed dizziness when I fell in love. I didn't even fall head-over-heals, sitting up dazed and confused. I didn't fall at all. Everything came slowly and sweetly together, and it made complete sense.
On December 28, 2010, I was sealed for time and all eternity to my best friend.
Taking the time to remember and reflect on important events and moments in time and the feelings associated with them has given me strength and hope for the future.
Lately Stephen and I have not had much quality time together between grad school, work, homework, and getting ready to move. It's been challenging to say the least, but we're making it.The other day while I was playing on the floor with our son, I started to think about all the ways our life together has changed, and it caused me to reminisce on our past. I think it's healthy for a relationship to reflect on how you fell in love with each other and the growth you've had since. Here's an account of my love story (as I reminisced):
Back in 2009, I had just completed my freshman year at Southern Utah University and was moving in with my sister, Brooke, for the summer break. Amanda (one of my very best friends) convinced me to try out her singles ward, which I had no intention of doing prior to that time. I gave it a shot and am forever grateful that I did.
I fell in love with the people in that ward and made many wonderful friendships and memories. One particular Sunday after I had spoken in sacrament meeting, a new member in our ward had introduced himself to me as Stephen Palmer. After some brief small talk, I went on my merry way, not giving Stephen a second thought nor seeing him again for months (though if you ask Stephen, this wasn't the case :) ).
Six months later, I was home from school again, this time for Christmas break. Recently having had my heart broken and former ideas of love mixed up, I was certainly not looking for a new relationship. I was actually considering becoming a nun, or a crazy cat lady with her 27 cats. Okay. So not really. But you get the point. I was basically avoiding boys like the plague. One night while out with some friends from my ward, I found myself in desperate need of some comfort. Emily (another good friend) went to find two brethren to give me a blessing. Lo and behold, this Stephen guy pops into the picture again and is the one who gives me the blessing. I'll be honest, I had completely forgotten about him and only reluctantly gave him my phone number when he asked for it that night. Grateful for the peace the blessing brought, but still uninterested in ANY guy, I forgot about Stephen. Again.
Later that month (while still on break) I found myself hanging out with Stephen every so often. See, I thought my friend Amanda was interested in him and I was trying to play match-maker. Little did I know that Stephen kept coming back to see me. While I had fun talking and hanging out with Stephen, I NEVER considered dating him, let alone thought that he was my "type." And so we became friends. We talked nearly every day from then on for about three months- Stephen asking me for girl advice and I complaining about previous boyfriends. It was the first time in my life I had ever had a sincere and genuine guy-friend and I loved it! Stephen was so easy to talk to and listened to my rants so patiently, throwing in his sympathy frustrations as well. I found myself looking forward to our conversations each day, even though I had returned to school in Southern Utah and Stephen had taken off for Rexburg, Idaho.
One difficult day about three months later, it was the one year mark of my father's passing and I was having a super hard time. Somewhere in the middle of that day, Stephen had sent me a yellow rose and a kind note that said he was thinking of me and hoped my day got better. It was then that I realized that maybe I had been looking for all of the wrong things in a guy, that maybe my ideas of love were not the real and lasting kind. I knew that there was something about Stephen that was so different from any other guy I had dated, but what I didn't realize right away was that that difference was something I wanted and needed. I began to question my desires to becoming a crazy cat lady, and then interest in Stephen blossomed :)
Ever so slowly, my heart opened again and I found myself dancing and singing to silly love songs, anticipating the next chance I'd have that day to talk to Stephen again.
Stephen took me hiking to watch the sunset on our first date and I was so impressed with his desire to genuinely get to know me, all the while giving me my space. I really enjoyed his company and decided that if he were to ask me on a second date, I'd definitely say yes. Well, that second date came and then led to a third, then a fourth, and a fifth... We were "officially dating" a month later :) So much for the convent.
Stephen and I dated for three months, which to some might seem like not long enough, but the amount of learning and growing that took place in those short three months made it feel profoundly longer. In those three months, I had come to understand and appreciate what real love is. I had learned that love isn't so much a matter of fireworks and butterflies (though those feelings have their place, too), and that it isn't all about floating up on cloud nine, oblivious to reality. I learned that real, lasting love makes you thrive in ways you could never have imagined. It causes you to see an imperfect person perfectly. It aspires you and brings the desire to rise above and be better than you are. I learned that the kind of love I wanted was more than what the fairy tales portrayed. I knew that I wanted someone who could challenge me, someone who could see all of my ugly sides and still believe that there is a more profound beauty somewhere inside that was worth fighting for. I wanted someone who could laugh and play with me and who believed that the "honeymoon" stage could last forever and was willing to work hard for it every day along with me. I wanted someone with whom I could face "make it or break it" challenges and know that we could rise out of it with a stronger love and devotion to each other. I knew that I needed someone who could love God more than he loved me, because it would be his love for God (and mine as well) that would hold us together during difficult times. I'm not a poet and likely never will be, but after you have experienced what real love tastes like, you just KNOW. I had tasted it, and I knew that I wanted to make Stephen mine forever. Lucky for me, Stephen felt the same way!
So no, I didn't experience light-headed dizziness when I fell in love. I didn't even fall head-over-heals, sitting up dazed and confused. I didn't fall at all. Everything came slowly and sweetly together, and it made complete sense.
On December 28, 2010, I was sealed for time and all eternity to my best friend.
Taking the time to remember and reflect on important events and moments in time and the feelings associated with them has given me strength and hope for the future.
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