A few weeks back I heaved myself onto the paper-covered table for that highlight of the year: the annual pelvic exam. I was anxious, as usual–speculums and gloved fingers are not my idea of a good time. But I was even more anxious about what the doctor might say after his little tour of my nether regions. Symptoms over the past few months (I’ll spare you the details) had led me to suspect that my uterus might be slowly prolapsing. After eight pregnancies and seven births, it seemed that Elvis was finally leaving the building.
I never thought I’d have a large family. Really, I’m not the type. When my husband and I got married we planned on a couple of kids sometime down the road, after graduate school. But a few months later, much to my surprise, I started wanting a baby. A lot. My trusted feminist professors told me this feeling came from cultural pressure, but they were wrong. This didn’t come from anything or anyone outside of me–not my ward or my family or even God. It came from the deepest, truest part of myself. It was more real than anything I’d ever felt.
From that point on my desire remained strong, very strong. Even when I was in the throes of postpartum hell I knew I wanted to get pregnant again. The babies came every two years, like clockwork: I’d nurse for a year or so, take a short breather, and start on the next. And even though it was hard–really, really hard–for me to mother so many children, it was what I wanted. It was what I needed, in some inexplicable way. I felt mother-hunger in my very marrow. I felt it for thirteen years.
And then, two years ago, it disappeared.
It happened during the birth of my seventh baby–a traumatic delivery, emotionally and physically and spiritually. Before I could even see my son the OB whisked him through the window in the wall that led to the NICU. I laid on the delivery bed and wailed. I knew there would probably be complications due to his prematurity (30 weeks gestation). But what overcame me most was not fear, or pain, but a crushing sense of utter emptiness. I have nothing left, I said to myself, over and over. I can never, ever do this again.
Once I recovered from the birth I was strangely relieved. I had always hoped (and prayed) that when it was time for me to stop having babies, I would know. (I wasn’t going to have a dozen kids just for fun. And mother-hunger had been with me for so long, I was beginning to worry that I would become the old woman living in a shoe.) So as the postpartum weeks and months passed, and desire for more children did not return, I assumed that this change within myself was the Sign. I’d heard women say it lots of times: “I knew when I was done. I just knew.” And I figured I knew. I wasn’t simply unexcited when I imagined another pregnancy–I was actually repulsed. It was the exact opposite of everything I’d felt so clearly for so long. It was wild.
But after two years of telling myself (and others) that I was done having children, I started to doubt. I didn’t doubt whether or not I wanted another baby, rather, I doubted the validity of using my feelings as a basis for action (or non-action, as the case may be). Maybe I was just scared of being pregnant (understandably so). Maybe I was just lazy (eight kids???). In matters this weighty, my desires didn’t seem to be enough. I wanted God to tell me that I was done. I wanted to be sure.
So I began praying. And my husband began praying. We prayed together, and apart, and in the temple, and at home. And the answer we got was this: It’s up to you.
Drat.
I didn’t want it to be up to us. Even though deep spiritual feelings were what got us procreating in the first place, it was harder to trust similar feelings indicating we should stop. I didn’t want to take responsibility for this choice. I wanted the blissful sense of safety that comes from non-accountability. (Is that a word?)
So when I felt the pelvic symptoms you don’t want to hear about, I was strangely glad. Since God wouldn’t tell me what to do, I would use the doctor as a substitute. My self-diagnosis via WebMD got my hopes up. When the doc finished poking and prodding, I waited to hear the magic words: It’s not safe for you to have another baby.
But that’s not what I heard.
“You’re fine,” he said. “A little bit of sagging, but nothing that would keep you from carrying another baby to term.”
He saw my face fall, and his own face softened. I’d told him the struggle I was having. “But just because you’re physically able doesn’t mean you should,” he continued. “It’s up to you.”
Drat.
I went home bewildered. What should we do? I desperately wanted a Magic 8 ball (pun intended) to give us an answer. But after lots more thinking and praying, I didn’t have one. Instead, I had more questions:
Why didn’t I trust myself?
Why didn’t I trust God?
He said it was up to us. And we knew what we wanted. Why wasn’t that good enough?
I’d like to hear your thoughts on this topic. When have you wished for a Magic 8 ball? Why is it so hard to have confidence in ourselves, even when God does?
(But please, don’t tell me why I should or should not have another baby. I only take advice from God, doctors, and black plastic spheres with little white triangles floating inside. And besides, the decision has been made, although I’m not gonna tell you what it is.)
I’m a doctor. So I’ll tell you. You shouldn’t have another baby because you don’t want to. Yes, I’ve wished for the magic 8-ball, don’t know why.
Thanks, Dr. E. The decision’s already been made. I’d better add that to the post, just in case any other doctors stop by. Or any deities.
Of all personal decisions, I think this is one of the toughest. And it never fails to amaze me how many people ask about it. Maybe because we’re all wondering how to tell when we should be done. My own mother was told she would never have more children after her first. Four children later, she had to have a hysterectomy at age thirty because of tumors. Every pregnancy was a miracle, and her body decided when she was done. I’m not wishing for tumors, but I know where you’re coming from on the non-accountability issue. It’s easier if the decision is made for you somehow. Choosing not to have more children is a painful thing.
Other magic 8 ball moments: whether to get a new job, and finding somewhere to live.
Non-accountability. A great word. How I’ve wished for the very things you write about. For the doctor to make the decision, for God to decide, anyone but me. Because it’s easier to follow and not be accountable.
I spent many years seeking a magic 8 ball for small and large decisions (and usually finding some “sign” to tell me one way or the other). And now I feel like I’ve swung the other way, trusting myself to know what is right for me to the point of pride. And frankly, I’m not sure where the middle ground is on this issue. Of course we need to take counsel from the Lord, from our doctors, from our own good sense. But, how much from each? I think the quest to figure out the balance is probably one of the things we’re here to learn. And I think, as with most things, it’s a very personal balance, a personal answer, something that confirms that we are individuals with a deity that understands us as such.
We’ve been struggling with wether or not we should have more children. We currently have four. I always wanted six. But, I’m just not sure. This lack of direction really makes me feel like I’m not spiritual enough. I try so hard to do all that I should but just don’t feel like I’m inspired. I guess what makes me feel this way is that a close relative always has strong spiritual experiences about her future children. She dreams about them and knows exactly how many more children she’ll have and if they’re boys or girls. I just feel so inferior with my lack of knowledge and inspiration. I too want the decision out of my hands. I pray about it a lot. But, nothing comes.
Anon–
I’ve always felt that kind of envy too. But over the years I’ve come to believe that having those kinds of dramatic experiences doesn’t mean that someone is more spiritual than you or I are. It’s just a different kind of gift, a to test you. We’ve dealt with infertility for many years, and for a very long time I felt frustrated with the lack of information/inspiration I received from the Lord. I even had priesthood blessings tell me there was “nothing to be said on the subject of children”. This went on for literally years. I know now that it was a test of faith, a test of whether I could trust or rely on the Lord when no immediate answers were given, as well as whether I could make decisions on my own. I believe that sometimes the Lord does want us to make decisions on our own, and really, what does that say about us that He would trust us to do so? I think it’s quite a compliment, not a sign that we are “less” than others. I also believe that revelation is given on a “need to know” basis…maybe for whatever reason known only to the Lord, other people need this type of dramatic revelation and others of us don’t.
I know that I have been told things in blessings about my subsequent children that I was never ever told about my first. The things I have been told are still very small and few compared to what some other people receive, but I treasure that information, partly because I went so long with nothing. I think what I’ve been told by the Lord is precisely because it is things I will need to know in parenting the children who are still to come and that’s the main reason why they have been told to me.
My mother is one of the most faithful, spiritual people I know, and she says that she did not receive any dramatic revelation prior to the comings of any of her five children.
Anon–your comment speaks to me. I often feel I’m just finding my way in the dark while it seems others are so clear about their lives. So sure. And it doesn’t help when we live in a culture where some people look down on you (I have “only” four, too) or try to tell you you’ll spend eternities in regret if you don’t get it exactly right. They can’t be right, but it doesn’t make it any easier.
I have no answers, but those are excellent questions to ponder. Great post.
I completely understand.
Once, while in the Temple, begging Heavenly Father to answer my prayer about whether or not it was time to start our family, the distinct impression came: “Ask your husband, because you aren’t listening to me.” Boy, did that sting! And sure enough, my husband’s “answer” wasn’t the one I wanted.
Now we are struggling with when to continue our family. My husband is about to re-enter the world of academia, and we already have four children. We thought that waiting a couple more years until he finishes would be the wisest choice. But we recently (after thoughts, prayers, talks) realized that waiting is not the right answer.
I agree with Melissa about wanting the Magic 8 Ball with new jobs and where to live, as well as knowing when to have children. I think a lot of our questions are hard ones. But I think you should definitely take this as a compliment from Heavenly Father. He trusts that you’ll make the right decision. And chances are, you did!
Great insights, ladies.
Dalene, that “eternity of regret” thing is, for me, a big reason why I agonize over decisions and want God to make them for me. It’s a big Mormon-culture thing to believe there’s one right decision. I think we twist the “study it out in your mind and then ask God if it’s right” in this direction–as if God really is a magic 8 ball.
Esp. when it comes to family size. I’m sure Saturday’s Warrior did a lot of good, but it also did a lot of harm.
A wise friend taught me something very surprising about desire. I was fretting over something I really wanted to do with my life, and worrying that I was being self-centered by following my desires. She said, what makes you think God has nothing to do with your desires? I was shocked. I had this dichotomy in my mind: there’s my will, and God’s will, and I’m supposed to subject my will to his. Obviously this is a true model in many situations. But–I’m just starting to believe this–not in all. Sometimes our desires are a reflection of God’s. Sometimes he speaks to us through our desires.
Of course, the trick is figuring out when to follow our will and when to not. But when God says “What do you want?” that’s a pretty good clue. When it’s up to us, we really think deeply about what we truly want, and we are forced to grow up.
I can understand wanting to have the “done having children” made for you. For years I hoped that when the time to be done was there that I would just not be able to get pregnant. Not a very realistic solution. I never planned on having a big family. my husband and I each came from average sized families. And yet I kept getting those feelings, not being able to stop thinking about having another baby. Over and over again. After #7 I thought, I’m done. My husband thought 7 was enough, I’d had a difficult delivery. And well, 7 is a lot of kids right? And my oldest was almost 16 when #7 was born.
But I started to have those feelings again, and tried to ignore them for probably a year. I didn’t want to mention them to my husband because he felt done with 7. I finally said something. Turns out he had had two different experiences that had given him the same feeling. So we had number 8.
I haven’t had any more baby feelings. But in some ways I still would like someone else to make that final decision for me. (Maybe the doctor will say no more!) Most of all I want the Lord to say “Yes, you are done” I have long had the same dichotomy in my mind ‘God’s will or my will’ And it has been hard to realize that maybe my will could be God’s will also. That just because I want something doesn’t automatically mean he does not want it for me!
And I agree, it is really hard to mother so many children, not impossible, and often very amazingly joyful and rewarding, but still hard.
And on a side note, I don’t know if Down Syndrome has made you hesitate to have another baby. After my baby with Down Syndrome was born I thought for sure I was done. How could I have more children and still give her what she would need? Long story short, we had three more.
I kinda have this. I’ve been told for sure, no more babies. And while it was nice for that decision to be made for me, at the same time it hurts because I want another. And yes, there’s adoption, but I really want to be pregnant, even though I hated every second of it, I just want that again.
I don’t think these decisions are ever easy, even when the answer is straightforward.
Good question, Karen. The answer is yes and no. When my husband and I do logical analysis of whether we should have another baby, we do consider Thomas’s needs as well as all the other kids’. We talk about whether we can “afford” another baby, financially and emotionally, and in terms of time and energy. But these kinds of considerations don’t really count for much compared to others, such as revelation and intuition and deep-seated desire (which, as I’m figuring out, are sometimes the same thing). In short, if we wanted another baby the way we’ve wanted our first seven, Thomas’s diagnosis wouldn’t stand in our way of pursuing that.
Caroline, I’m so sorry.
After a miscarriage I was infertile for a year and felt utter panic at the prospect of never being pregnant again. I can’t describe it. It was terrible.
You’re reminding me that I only like authorities to tell me what to do when they want what I want.
And you’re right, these kinds of choices are inevitably complex.
Magic 8 Ball where are you? We talk about moving out of Utah, but where? We talk about starting our own business, but what? Okay, part of the fun of life is the unexpected and dreaming and figuring stuff out on our own, but when we want to know, we really want to know.
After my last baby I really felt we should have another, my husband said no. We both prayed, fasted, templed and still got different answers. So I’m going crazy trying to understand why I still feel like we should have another one, when we are so done. He had a vasectomy in October. Yes, yes, I’ve heard the stories of the miraculous baby born years after the vasectomy. I told him he didn’t have to do it that I would just keep my IUD, but he said he wanted it done. Adoption, we’ve thought about it, but haven’t felt any strong promptings in that direction. So not only do I want a magic 8 ball to give me the answer then I want the answer explained to me when it’s not what I want to hear.:-) Control freak much? No, not me.
Just stumbled on this site and am in awe. fabulous. Here’s my two cents:
Making decisions is something that we were sent to the earth to learn how to do. Truth be told, I firmly believe there are many options that face us everyday, and many of them would be a fine choice with pleasant consequences. I actually don’t wish for a magic 8 ball, because I love the independence and self-love that come from making an honest, responsible and personal decision that is pleasing to Heavenly Father. Don’t get me wrong, it all needs to be done under His watch of course, but I rely on Him not to tell me “what” to do but more to help me know what “not” to do. I liken it to when my daughter gets dressed in the morning. Sometimes, it’s just not the right choice. I let her decide but then I explain to her why it isn’t so great to wear brown and pink striped pants with a black and green polkadot shirt. the choice is ultimately hers but try to influence her decision. I think the Lord works in a very similar way. I know, it’s a petty example, but you get the idea.
I have had 3 pregnancies and two births, producing two wonderful daughters. I am constantly struggling with whether or not to have another. Due to many complications, I’m not sure it’s even physically possible. But everytime I give it serious thought, I just don’t think it’s the best choice for us at this time. Sounds odd, I know, but that’s the decision that my husband and I have made. We have taken it to the Lord and feel like He accepts this decision. Overall, I feel like the Lord loves us so much, he trusts us to make good decisions and He will let us know when we’re wrong. That’s what’s so amazing about it.
Thanks for the post and the blog - truly fabulous.
Welcome, Lisasco! Glad you found us. Don’t miss the fabulous writing in our literary journal, published three times a year–you can find our current issue on the sidebar link, and all our back issues are also online.
Great thoughts on how decision-making fits into the plan. It’s only been recently that I’ve been able to enjoy this freedom. It’s scared me before. And I’ve heard so many inspirational stories about answers to prayers that I’ve felt insecure without a divine yes or no.
God refused to tell me whether to marry the man who’s now my husband. You choose, he said, I’ll be happy either way. What the??? That’s not the way it was supposed to work. But now I understand why he didn’t tell me what to do. And I trust he’s going for the same effect with the baby decision.
These experiences have, for me, unraveled a lot of assumptions, both personal and cultural, that I’ve been carrying around.
Jeffner, I hear you, girl. I’ve had a very strong prompting that directly conflicts with other promptings, and it continues to drive me CRAZY.
This experience of child bearing gives way in time to the necessities of being a mother to children on the cusp of adulthood. A whole new set of problems emerges. It would really be nice to have a magic 8 ball when it comes to dealing with teens.
They already know everything and won’t listen to anybody. Because it never entertains complex questions, maybe they would pay attention to the magic 8 ball with its simple answers. Maybe a two headed coin would work just as well.
I think the test of faith never ends as long as we are mortal. Sometimes we just have to muddle through whistling in the dark, as it were, until things begin to become clear again. That means that at times we have to follow what we know because the spirit isn’t as close as it once was. In such times, what was previously revealed will have to do until things change.
I am grateful for rich spiritual experiences remembered. Those memories keep faith alive.
Anon and eljee, thanks for the thoughts re spiritual experiences and family size. I don’t know why some women have dreams, etc and some don’t, but I’m confident such things are not proof of superior spirituality.
And these kinds of things can cause a lot of confusion. I’ve had “manifestations” about some of my kids, but not all of them. Some of these have “come true,” and some haven’t. I can’t make sense of the whole thing.
So, those of you who have fretted over jobs and homes and non-childbearing parenting decisions, do you find yourself stuck in the “One True Way” trap? Thinking your whole destiny, or your temporary well-being at least, hinges on finding the Right Answer? Is anyone else a stranger to the possibility of there being more than one “right” answer, or the “right” answer being the one you want most?
I agree with Lisasco — I think God sometimes leaves us dangling with the response of “It’s up to you,” or “Do whatever makes you happy” for a reason. We came here to learn how to exercise our agency. If the Lord told us what to do in every aspect of our lives, from what to have for breakfast to childbearing to choosing a job or a place to live, it would completely negate our agency. While I wholeheartedly believe that we should consult with the Lord, the decisions we make are ultimately OUR decisions — He isn’t going to make them for us. It’s really hard sometimes, because it would be easier to be told exactly what to do, but how would we grow?
My husband has a completely different take on this. He doesn’t feel the need to “bother” the Lord with small decisions or problems (i.e., finding your lost keys) because he figures that God gave us intellects and resources to solve problems for ourselves. Mainly, he goes to the Lord for confirmation of decisions that he’s worked through and made on his own.
Finally, in response to your last comment, Kathy, I don’t think there’s “One True Way” — I believe there are many roads that lead us to happiness, many possible “true loves,” many possible jobs, family situations, etc. I believe what the Lord wants most for us is our greatest happiness. We have to figure out what will make us the most happy for ourselves. That’s the best part of the journey.
(P.S. It’s lovely to see you again — I’m sorry you’ve had sick kids. I’ve missed your posts!)
Of course, we should be eternally coupled. Now older and never married, I used to beg the Lord for a confirmation that I was either meant to be single (on earth) and live faithfully as an example or meant to be married (in mortality) and bear children. I couldn’t get a signal as to what I was supposed to be doing. I still don’t know if I’m doing it wrong or not. Gotta admit, that Liahona makes one drool for printed, tangeable, direction. I do know that eternally, He will assist and I will know. And though, childishly, I’ve counseled the Lord oh so often on what I need, He has yet to send the confirmation email or that longed for Magic 8 ball.
I worry about this because of passages in the scriptures like when Christ set apart the three Nephites. The other nine were blessed, those three were more blessed. There have been many times when the direction I have received took me in a direction I didn’t anticipate that gave me many unexpected blessings. I don’t want to miss out now by choosing wrong if, once again, I just don’t “get it,” especially in terms of such major decisions as where to live and how many children to have. I know this sounds crazy, but I always wonder if it really is “up to me” at these times, or if there is some unseen test of my desires that I am supposed to be passing. I am jealous of those women who have visions or dreams and “know” which children need to come to them because I am also starting to feel like I will want babies forever, and I am probably fertile enough to do it for quite a while, but I don’t want to end up with more than I can handle well in the long haul.
Angie, I don’t think you’re crazy–I used to worry about the same thing. I’m really glad you brought this up.
My wise friend quoted that same scripture. From her perspective, the Lord wasn’t testing them–he wanted them to think about what they really wanted. The three were “more blessed” not because the Lord was rewarding them for wanting the “right thing,” but because the thing they wanted had the potential to give them particular blessings. It wouldn’t have done the 9 any good to pretend that’s what they wanted, too. They wouldn’t have been happy living someone else’s deepest desires. And my friend suggested that each disciple’s desires were informed by the spirit, guiding them to the place they needed to be to fulfill their individual missions. (Think Peter, James, and John, who also chose heaven.)
In any case, I think we run into trouble when we apply this extra-righteous-desires scenario to ourselves. When people tell me how impressed they are that I’ve had seven kids, I tell them not to be. I had seven kids because that’s what I wanted, and I’m confident that doesn’t mean I’m any more righteous than a woman who wanted 4 kids. And if I opt to have another kid (even though I don’t want one) just because I assume that’s the extra-righteous thing to do, that gets me nowhere. (Different story if I know the Lord wants me to have another.) My wise friend also told me once, “Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it’s right.”
Of course, there are times when there may really be one right answer (one place we need to live, etc), and we’re not doing ourselves any favors to assume our unquestioned feelings will always steer us right. But as long as I’m asking the Lord to guide/confirm my decisions, I don’t think I should unduly indulge in self-doubt. That smacks of faithlessness. When we ask and he says “you choose,” I don’t think he’s playing mind games with us, kwim?
The process of having to decide what we want can lead us to realize that we want something different than we first thought, or not–either way, it’s a vehicle for divine growth. (Like Andrea said so well. Hi, Andrea!)
Wow, has this been a great discussion. I went gangbusters and so wantingly for 10 years (and five children), and now have also had such a total reversal of desire and feeling that it’s startling. But there are just too many personalized scenarios for anyone to speak in general terms. I like the discussion thread that focuses on staying close to the Spirit. And the Spirit speaks to each of us in such different ways. And it even speaks to me in different ways at different times. I’ve had times of complete certainty, and I’ve also been left to decide and flounder a little for myself.
I just have to pray every day that I won’t lose my connection to the Spirit.
Personally, I love when God tells me what to do. Unfortunately He knows how much I love it, and often makes me figure things out out on my own. Boo.
When God “makes” the decision for us, it eliminates the “what if” factor. We don’t really wonder (at least as much) if we would have been happier (or capable or whatever) with the other choice we could have made. It’s really hard for me to live with ambiguity sometimes–I find it SO hard to accept that I just have to deal with the incompleteness of not knowing. I hate it.
So I hear you with this one.
So, those of you who have fretted over jobs and homes and non-childbearing parenting decisions, do you find yourself stuck in the “One True Way†trap? Thinking your whole destiny, or your temporary well-being at least, hinges on finding the Right Answer? Is anyone else a stranger to the possibility of there being more than one “right†answer, or the “right†answer being the one you want most?
{Shoots hand in the air!} I have spent most of my life feeling this way. And I think sometimes there *is* a right way we should go, but in the end, we are here to learn by our own experience, which means exercising our agency, studying it out and doing our best and trusting that God knows our hearts and can make up any failing along the way. That is scary business, especially when it comes to these decisions that we know are of eternal import.
But I have seen so much irony wrapped into these experiences with so many people that I have come to believe that as important as multiplying and replenishing is (and I can’t begin to describe how important I feel it is), there is a lot more the Lord is working on with us through our life experiences. Sister Holland once said that (paraphrasing) …some of us wanted eight children and got three. Others of us wanted three and got eight! Some of us will have large families to our own surprise, and maybe even struggle. Some of us will ache for that blessing and never have it fulfilled in this life.
All of these experiences teach us to trust in God, to be grateful for our challenges, to try to learn from them, to do D&C 9…. If we are married, they teach us to come together as one to face life and its decisions and challenges. And they all teach us to really trust that the Atonement will carry us through this life and into the next if we will but trust and be faithful.
As such, we can never compare our experiences with these things with others’. Some will just KNOW it’s time for another baby, others will move forward because they feel it’s right and good to be obedient and because they can. Others will feel they shouldn’t for now and not know why. Others will decide not now and God will surprise them. Ah, what a ride.
Hmph. Long comment.
I’m going to include one of my fave quotes that is about career choices, but I think it can apply to decision-making in a broader sense. I have relied on this so often in my life that I thought it might be helpful for someone else.
As I have begun to proceed along one path, having more or less gathered what facts I could, I have found that if that decision was wrong or was taking me down the wrong path – not necessarily an evil one, but one that was not right for me – without fail, the Lord has always let me know just this emphatically: ‘That is wrong; do not go that way. That is not for you.’
“On the other hand, there may have been two or three ways that I could have gone, any one of which would have been right and would have been in the general area providing the experience and means whereby I could fulfill the mission that the Lord had in mind for me. Because He knows we need the growth, He generally does not point and say, ‘Open that door and go twelve yards in that direction, then turn right and go two miles….’ But, if it is wrong, He will let us know – we will feel it for sure. I am positive of that. So, rather than saying, ‘I will not move until I have this burning in my heart,’ let us turn it around and say, ‘I will move unless I feel it is wrong; and if it is wrong, then I will not do it.’ By eliminating all of these wrong courses, very quickly, you will find yourself going in the direction that you ought to be going, and then you can receive the assurance: ‘Yes, I am going in the right direction. I am doing what my Father in Heaven wants me to do because I am not doing the things He does not want me to do.’ And you can know that for sure. That is part of the growth process and part of accomplishing what our Father in Heaven has in mind for us.
-John H. Groberg, BYU Speeches of the Year, ‘79
That’s an interesting quote. It seems that everyone has the same frustrations and doubts in working through personal revelation. Maybe that’s why its called “personal” revelation. I think the Lord allows for some false starts and amateurism.
I know for sure with no doubt that the man I married was “the one”. The rest of my decisions have not been handed to me on a silver platter, unfort. As LDS, we are very fond of perfect certainty, –the “I know” experience. Letting go of that and moving forward on our own is a sacrifice. I feel like a scared kid walking into school without mom for the first time. Childlike. I think the Lord accepts that offering.
Even when we find the bravery to proceed into the unknown, I think its important to remain open to the “I know” experiences that may come. Not to expect them or demand them, but to ask for them and be open if they come.
Interesting topic and good to hear that other people struggle for that elusive certainty. Conflicting revelations, boy that’s a tough one. My husband and I have one of those going right now. How will it end? Isn’t life fun?
I so appreciate all of your thoughtful posts. It has been wonderful to read each insight. We are going through a very difficult time in our family. You’re words brought me comfort. Thank you.
Anon, we’re glad you’re here.
Michelle’s “what a ride” and TG’s “isn’t life fun?” reminded me how vital it is to be able to relax a bit and trust that our futures won’t explode in our faces. Contradictions and multiple options and clouded pathways can be challenging–but if we’re afraid, we cross the line from “challenged” to “crazy.” Fear makes us crazy.
My first dozen years as an active member of the Church were driven by fear. I’m beginning to learn another way, and it’s saving my mental, emotional, and spiritual health.
One of my favorite mantras is ‘fear and faith cannot coexist.’ It’s when we are faced with these kinds of life challenges and decisions, imo, that we learn more about what faith means, about the scope and reach of the Atonement, and about how much God loves us. He’s not there waiting for us to goof so He can condemn us. He is there, willing to help and rescue us along the way, even from ourselves.
I have to hold onto this in our own particular situation. And it is stretching me. But faith works, and there is less fear there. Yea! Progress!
What happens when either decision is correct? There have been many times when I’ve received definite NOs, and there have been times when I’ve received definite YESes (is that a word?), but sometimes the toughest times are when I have two good things to choose from, two rights that would bless my life. It sounds like a win-win situation, but those are the times that confound me the most.
I want another baby, too, by the way, so much that it almost hurts. DH says no, 3 doctors have said no, and I’m scared to really ask the Lord, because if I don’t ask, I won’t get a no, and part of me can pretend I’ll get a yes. How lame is that?
That’s exactly what I struggled with these past few months, Heather O. “Either way is fine, either way is good. What do you want to do?”
aaaaaaagh!
But after sitting with it a while (a long while) I felt good. Although it did require some rethinking of assumptions. I was scared at first because I thought there really couldn’t be two right ways for this choice. There’s another spirit waiting to come to our family, or there isn’t. How could it be both?
Same dynamic with my marriage decision. He’s either the right one for me, or he isn’t. How could it go either way?
But it could. And I made my marriage choice based on what I wanted, and ever since then, when I’ve had occasions of questioning my decision (*smile*) I go back to that moment and remember why I chose what I chose.
And I’m grateful I have the same opportunity with this baby question. I know there will be times that I look back and wonder if I made the right choice, and I’ll remember why I chose, and be comforted.
So despite my initial consternation, I’m very glad that when I handed these decisions to God he handed them right back.
And I’m so, so sorry you (probably) won’t get to pick what you want re your family size. Baby hunger has got to be one of the most powerful phenomena we can experience in these bodies.
Kathryn, to me, what you have described is the very stuff of agency, the power of learning by our own experience. If God ‘made’ us make our choices, it would be hard to really learn the way we are supposed to.
That said, once in a while, He does step in, and that also helps me know that He can override my mortal mistakes if in His wisdom that would be best. #3 was one of those overrides for us. Given the fact that my health issues came when we did, had she not come when she did, we might not have been able to have her. How grateful I am that God stepped in and brought her to us, even when I thought wisdom and order meant we could/should wait. (I had three in less than three years.) A year later, the health issues hit which have prevented us from having more (we actually have had a no…hard when the baby hunger is there).
So, Heather O., I am so empathetic with you in that baby hunger struggle!
Although I am a single woman, I hope to have that unaccounatable relief as well in this matter. I wish someone would say at times that I should not get married or have children given my condition. And yet, I do dream of marrying a certain kind single man that I have had a crush on for a few years though he has never shown any romantic interest towards me. Or if someone else where meant to be, I would marry them. Yet, it would be such a relief to know that it is okay just to be single. My mom has often said as I have longed for the man who I have had a crush on for a few years that I should meet men in my area. But in my heart, if he is not interested, I feel I am just better off single. I feel justified in not having children being my severe phobias and also possible learning disabilities and probable inability to be a decent parent. In my youth, I expected to be a mother, but I did not have my disorder nor was I in touch with my inadequacies as I am now. It is hard to mete out what is real or what is environment and what is just lack of experience. But all the same, I would very much like to be content being single. Then again, it is sweet to dream of marrying and having a baby. I do have my sweet baby nieces now that I am so grateful to my sister-in-law for as is the rest of my family. We are a very child-centered family. However, my dear mother never thinks the less of any of her children if they have no children including my sister who has been married for years. She would not worry about what was not there. You should have seen how happy she was when she learned of the coming baby and all the happy times since. And I think it would be beautiful to have a child or more for her to love too. If I am like I am now, it would not be fair to a child, in my opinion. I can’t even take care of myself. Well, I sure hope it is okay that I am single.
Thanks for all your insights, Michelle.
Barb, what a tough situation. I have a hard time knowing when to accept my limitations and learn from them, and when to keep trying to push past them. The Lord says he can make weak things strong, but in my experience this often happens through the increased connection I build with him in my weakness, not through a literal change in my abilities. I hope you will receive the comfort you seek.
Kathryn, thanks for your thoughts. I was afraid once again how I must have come across as I was given such a broad range of my thoughts going back and forth. I do enjoy my life in many regards. It would just be nice to know that I am living the life that I am meant to live.
Amen to that, Barb.
Fantastic discussion. I’ve been nodding my head as I read through it all. I have often wished I could wake up and find liahona-like answers written on my pillow. I struggled recently to choose counselors for our ward Primary Presidency–it was so much harder than I had expected! Also, with regard to childbearing, I also found that many of my assumptions, which were not necesarily founded in doctrine, have caused me considerable distress. Am I making the ONE “right” decision? Is a child waiting to come to our family or not? Are my desires selfish, divine, wise or foolish? Hmmm.
Thank you for sharing such a personal experience and giving me much to ponder.