This is a guest post by Heidi, who lives in Los Alamos, New Mexico with her four (soon to be five) children. Originally from Logan, Utah, she graduated from BYU in 2000. She says, “My husband has affectionately nicknamed me “Bookworm” as I always have my nose in one. I’ve done a lot of writing over the years, but this is my first attempt at getting published. I would love to write a book someday soon… in between homework, tying shoes, changing diapers and answering the endless questions of the universe posed by my little ones.”
As a fifteen year old freshman sitting in early morning seminary, I vividly recall listening to my polyester suit clad teacher extol the virtues of mothering and the evils of women working outside the home. “The mother’s place is in the home” he droned on, his pop-bottle glasses slipping down his nose.
That moment in my life kindled a flicker of rebellion in my spirit, turning it into a steady flame. Though I might decide to have a child or two when it became convenient, I wanted to be a career woman and thus, I set my feet down my chosen path. Unlike other women who might be content to stay home, the path I traveled would be replete with academic honors, followed by numerous job offers from prestigious companies all vying for the privilege of my skills, classic and tasteful business attire with a validating salary to complete the scenery.
From age fifteen on, I carefully crafted The Plan. No detail was too small for consideration. I entered college already a sophomore on scholarship (all part of The Plan) and began taking my required courses which had been meticulously mapped out semester by semester until graduation day. As I turned twenty-one, The Plan called for a mission which I graciously and willingly served as it would broaden my horizons and give me language skills which might prove a valuable asset in the business world. And then I met HIM, and in due time we were married.
The Plan changed so gradually, I hardly noticed at first. I pursued my graduate degree, the world still beckoning to me, one accolade at a time, tempting me and yes, perhaps even taunting me a little, for I knew, as we all do, that no one can have it all. Nothing could have prepared me for the torrent of emotion that flooded my heart as I stared at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, years ahead of The Plan’s dictation. Rapturous joy swirled through my heart and mind while debilitating fear and anxiety simultaneously doubled my body over. Tears were the only appropriate reaction, for both extremes.
I wrote my thesis the next year with my flaxen-haired daughter pulling herself to standing, using my knee as leverage, intermittently babbling with delight or wailing at the injustice of my divided attention. Graduation brought sweet relief, though the respite was short-lived as I discovered with great surprise that my body, once thought to be infertile, was again pregnant. Nine months later, a beautiful tow-headed boy, the twin of his older sister, joined our family. “Oh good!” people would say, “You have your boy and your girl” as if that were the end of that. On the surface, I thought as much too, but deep inside my soul, a spark of doubt in the wisdom of The Plan emerged. Perhaps The Plan was mine rather than the Lord’s?
I cannot say how or when it happened, but sometime amidst the flurry of endless diaper changes for my baby, reading stories to my inquisitive toddler and discovering that I was yet again pregnant, a new Plan emerged. The idea that the Lord might want me to set aside my worldly goals and consecrate myself to bearing and raising righteous children of God was admittedly, a new one to me. As I struggled to reorient myself to this new way of thinking, a thought came powerfully into my mind. “Because of your abilities, I have a much greater calling in store for you than what you had planned for yourself. If you follow your plan, the rewards will be fleeting and inconsequential. If you follow the plan I have laid out for you, there will be no immediate gratification, you will often feel overwhelmed, but the rewards will be eternal. I will send to you as many of My children as you are able to handle financially, spiritually, emotionally and mentally. My most immediate thought was, “Does that mean three, five or ten?!”
And with that, the mother in me began to take shape. Just as Alma speaks of faith beginning as the tiniest of seeds, and if that is not enough, just a desire for faith will do, so emerged the mother in me. My desire to nurture was small enough in the beginning, I was never one to fawn over babies or eagerly vie to hold the newborn at a baby shower, in fact, my arms got tired just thinking about it. However, with the rapid succession births of my first three children, my seed of mothering was forced to grow rather quickly into a seedling and then a small shrub, though because of the quick growth, I often thought my roots were a bit too shallow. This shallowness was reflected in my too frequent baby nap-time internet searches for jobs, “just to see what was available.”
The process of consecrating my life to the children God continued to bless me with was not an easy path to tread. The most fitting adjective to describe those early days was “aggravating.” As late nights with the sick baby, blurred by toddler nightmares, ran into early mornings with the school children with their forgotten homework, unpacked lunches and subsequent tirades and tears, I wondered just what the Lord was trying to teach me that I could not have learned any other way? “Patience under pressure” became my new motto.
How does one cultivate the divine qualities of Godhood? By being a mother, of course. Those godly attributes of patience, tolerance, love unfeigned, selflessness and charity that are so lacking in the business world are painstakingly honed in the school of parenthood. Take, for example, the day not so long ago when I took all my children to the school carnival (alone, because my husband had to work late”¦again). An hour later, I left in despair as they were all complaining of some malady (too much sugar, perhaps?). Sleep was the cure for all but my eldest son whose complaints progressed to sobbing and clutching his ear while vomiting up a blue-dye laced snow cone all over the brand new carpet. As the only remedy at 2 a.m. was distraction, we cuddled on the couch and watched Bugs Bunny until he finally slept. The morning brought no relief as I was scheduled to watch a neighbor girl whose mom was out-of-town. We dragged her along with us to the doctor’s office where she proceeded to throw a fit unlike any other, my eldest son whimpered on the exam table and my toddler did somersaults on the cold, but hopefully sterile tile floor. Now, I ask you how this experience of staying patient under pressure could possibly be replicated in the business world?
Our Heavenly Father sees our path from beginning to end and knows what we cannot. Only He can know how wiping messy chins and answering patiently for the two hundredth time when we would rather scream, instead of earning that second salary to bring us the luxuries of life will refine our spirit. Only He can determine the eternal consequences of having six children that demand a total consecration of our efforts, rather than the two we would have sent to daycare in order to further our careers. Little by little, the patience that consecrated mothering demands sloughs off the rough edges of our character and hones us into the gem he would have us become. And so, I continue to trust in Him, finding joy as a mother, knowing that the path I am on has been hand-picked for me, by Him.
Heidi, this is lovely. Beautiful.
I loved the insight you had: “Because of your abilities, I have a much greater calling in store for you than what you had planned for yourself. If you follow your plan, the rewards will be fleeting and inconsequential. If you follow the plan I have laid out for you, there will be no immediate gratification, you will often feel overwhelmed, but the rewards will be eternal.”
That is what it comes down to, isn’t it? I’m in the middle of writing my own post on motherhood and have similar thoughts running through my mind this morning. I love what you say here.
Los Alamos? Heidi, I used to live in Los Alamos (1992) and loved it. Lucky you, cool.
I would love to hear also, more about how to make the Plan work. Because the time my oldest was eight, I had burned through all my personal reserves not realizing it, and even I could tell I was not exactly the joyful productive mom anymore.
I think most moms have been smarter than me and don’t come to such a crisis, and not quite so much submersed themselves in their duties. So I had to learn some things the hard way.
I think it takes more than self-sacrifice to work this Plan. I never learned how to network, and to do their best, mothers need peers and mentors. And, to be best, you need to learn some kind of childcare swapping, to make those doctor appointments of your own, or even to get your hair cut or to buy a bra, and it seems to work best to have that kind of time on a regular basis. You can work without it for a few years, five years, more, but in the end it’ll get you. And the best way is to do it smarter.
I couldn’t make it to volunteer in a school classroom, since I couldn’t figure out how to swap or arrange childcare, I didn’t really know how to take care of myself just in terms of what really does get my best performance. What was lacking was not a bubble bath or a book in the evening, but some time to pull myself together and take myself seriously, to realize it was right that I spend some money on clothes even if was home, to realize it was necessary to make myself part of the world outside my home too.
How does the Plan work for you?
And the blue vomit on the carpet–so awful and so painfully funny and painful–truly one of the hallmarks of the mom experience. Including for moms like my two best friends, who are a lawyer and a college professor, and are among the moms who show me how to do it well. Because they are also at the doctor the next day, and missing some meeting at work they’ll have to make up for, their kids also have issues to pray and do things for. Having the Plan work in my case is dependant on having these looks-different Plan people in my life.
Insightful, Heidi! Thanks for sharing it. =)
This is lovely, Heidi. I had similar experiences in my life, and I love reading how different women have negotiated the transition from “my plan” to “His plan.” It seems to be such an important theme for LDS women right now.
One of the biggest challenges for me was also “how.” After spending years in academia and work I had developed a whole skill set specific to those settings. I felt competent and productive there. Then all of a sudden I was at home and I had the depressing realization that none of that was going to do me a bit of good. I needed to figure out how to cook from food storage, organize closets, and teach co-op preschool. I have seen many women give up on homemaking because they couldn’t negotiate the transition. Either they were overwhelmed by the job description or they had trouble seeing past the mundaneness of parts of it and went back to what felt more comfortable. I love homemaking now, but I definately feel that I am still growing into the job after 8 years of being home full time.
I think alot about how to better prepare my daughters, both in practical and in spiritual terms, to appreciate the importance homemaking and to both enjoy it and excel at it.
This was a fantastic post. Thank you so much!
One of my mantras is “motherhood is a process.” I was not born to mother in the sense of what comes naturally. My education and career that came before marriage and motherhood sort of intensified that feeling for me. I was a pretty good single working serving person. Motherhood has not been ‘natural’ for me. Motherhood has been a choice, and is still a work in progress. There have been many days, seeing my weakness in my mothering, that I have wondered if we all would have been better off for me to stay single and working!
But of course I know that wouldn’t be the case.
Your experience reminds me of the day that I can still remember distinctly, when in my office, before #1 was born, the Spirit whispered (in feeling more than in words), “You will not reach your potential here in this sphere.” Being a mom is the hardest, most personally refining job I could ever have. And I used to think I was a pretty nice and patient person. Ha. But I love this role more and more, especially the more I put into it.
Thanks again for the post.
I was having some of these very thoughts yesterday as I had a pap smear with a toddler sitting on my stomach. He watched, quite amused, as I had a breast exam, and he curiously checked out all the typical gynecological accouterments in the small office space.
“WHAT am I DOING?” was screaming through my head the entire time. But the kid had been puking. How could I, in good conscience, leave him with other kids?
I’ve had to learn to, as Johnna said, reclaim some space for myself so I can continue to sacrifice at the moments that it really matters most. That’s the conclusion I’ve come to. Self-sacrifice for the sake of self-sacrifice doesn’t necessarily sanctify me. I’ve learned how to say no. I feel a lot of strength and love in those no’s sometimes.
Thanks for the great thoughts.
Heidi, this is very interesting to me. I had two Plans: in one plan, I got a nice doctorate in Comparative Literature… or the alternate version of that was a TESOL Masters/Certification program so I could teach English in exotic places. In the other plan, I would have kids and be a mommy.
I always felt like I somehow wouldn’t be worth of the mommy plan. It was hard for socially inept me to believe that I would actually get married one day, that I would be given the chance to realize the mommy plan.
However awed I am that I got to go mommy track, though, the fact is that my mothering is, as Michelle said, a work in progress.
Johnna, I totally know what you mean about the Mommy network. I stink at it. But in order to keep some bit of sanity, it’s very necessary. I cheat because my father-in-law lives with us, so I can leave my kids with him for a while. But if I were alone, too far away from family for them to babysit, I’d have to network or go crazy, and I know that would be one of my biggest challenges.
I think that what you’ve said is so important–the Plan does look different for different people. My job is to focus on the Lord’s plan for me, not worry about others’ implementation of their plans.
Another thought on Mommy burn out. . . I read something I really liked from Mother Teresa. She said something to the effect that the sisters in the Missionaries of Charity do their work as an act of religious devotion, and that they could not possibly sustain what they do long term if they approached it as social workers, relying on their own strength and desire to do good. I also hit that point as mother, realizing that I could give everything in me and have it still not be enough (and since I’ve spent over 10 years pregnant and/or nursing on top of mothering there was a physical drain as well as an emotional/spiritual one). So what was the alternative? More recently I am discovering how to rely on the Atonement on a daily basis, and how my children are blessed more by me taking time for scripture study and prayer than by my pushing through to accomplish a few more things on the “to do” list. That’s something I’ve been trying to write about recently (or maybe procrastinating writing about).
Heidi, you could have been looking at my own heart when you wrote this, every detail is perfect. Thank you!
Angie, that is so profound. It’s something I have been thinking about a lot, too. I think so many of our woes as women (insecurities, competitiveness, burnout, etc.) would be reduced greatly if we really understood the atonement…such a process again!)
I really appreciate hearing this story. It resonated with me because I had similar dreams and my life has taken a similar path. Like Johnna, I find that instead of networking to find support, I “hole” myself up pretending (poorly) to be thriving. I really do believe in the power of women. Women individually and collectively. However, I hate the games that one has to play in order to make friends with other women. The playdates, the facade (until it is finally let down), etc..
My sons are brave. They approach a boy at the park (who usually doesn’t speak English) and say, “Hi. Wanna Play?” It works (almost) every time. They cross language and cultural barriers with a smile and a sense of adventure.
I need to take a lesson.
Heidi, thanks for sharing this. Although I don’t relate as much to the specifics, I certainly relate to the concept. My plan has changed quite a few times and it never included being a step-mother, which I now am. But I’ve found it’s really amazing that we can rise to the occasion and learn as we go and become someone we never dreamed of if we let go of our plans sometimes.
Also, my parents live in Los Alamos–Rod and Dawn Barker. I was just there in August. I love it!
I have some funny mommy netrworking stories, Maralise. One of them: I had a friend who hosted “craft day” at her house once a week for moms and kids. I hate crafts, but I usually went because several other homeschool families attended, and gave it the kids and me a mid-day social outlet. One of the other women there mentioned she liked to write, but I never got to read anything she wrote, and she was a bit evasive when I asked her about it. Later, when we had both moved away a mutual friend sent me her first book, and I ended up inviting her to join our editorial board and subsequently learning things about her that I had never known when we were in -person associates, specifically her poetic heart and critical mind. She mentioned that she hadn’t always opened up more because she was a bit shy and also didn’t expect many RS sisters to appreciate or understand her “not cookie cutter” point of view. I suppose I did the same thing. It’s funny how we limit ourselves and our friendships by our preconceptions of what others are or expect us to be.
Your words echo my own sentiments.
Thank you.