Words to Live and Write by

I am willing to fall Because I have learned how to rise.

I craft Love from heartbreak, Compassion from shame, Grace from disappointment, Courage from failure.

I am among the brave and brokenhearted, and I am rising strong.

(credit to Brene Brown)

Sunday, May 18, 2014

"How Abortion Has Changed the Discussion of Miscarraige"

 Another post that is not my own. But it might as well be. These are my feelings, so strongly, except written a bit better. I am a big fan of this woman's writing. Please visit her blog and get to know her!

"How Abortion Has Changed the Discussion of Miscarriage" from Scissortail SILK



I was finally getting back to a normal routine. My miscarriage a few weeks earlier had taken more than just my baby. It had sapped my emotional reserves as well. I was exhausted, but began to force myself to continue the necessary day-to-day tasks.
I opened the growing pile of mail. A few bills and some unrequested catalogues were quickly set aside. But as I opened a letter from the hospital, I suddenly felt more than I had in days. I could feel my face turn red and my heart began to beat quickly.
The letter read something to the effect of:
“Dear Mrs. Thompson, Blah blah blah, your insurance company will not cover your elective abortion. Blah blah blah.”
Abortion?!?
It took a few times reading over the letter to understand that I needed to contact the hospital billing office. Surely there had been a mistake.
The conversation is still fuzzy in my mind, but basically, the hospital had “miscoded” my ER visit a few weeks before. While I had experienced what they considered a spontaneous abortion (my body had terminated the pregnancy on its own) the hospital had entered it as something similar to an elective abortion. (They said that I had made the decision to terminate the pregnancy.)
I had done everything in my power to keep my baby. Abortion was the word that described just the opposite.
It has taken me nearly 8 years to realize that abortion wasn’t just a word that was mistakenly used in place of my miscarriage; it is the word that has changed the discussion of miscarriage all together.
When I lost my baby, I was surrounded by family and friends who knew that we were expecting and wanted to support us during our time of loss. I was encouraged by those who knew for themselves the heartache we were experiencing…
But life just sort of… went on…
I joined some horrible unspoken club of women who have all had miscarriages yet no one really talks about the loss or acknowledges the baby.
There wasn’t a grave stone or a funeral or meals prepared for us for weeks. I wasn’t featured on the news or connected by the hospital to other mothers who had experienced similar heartache.
I was sent home to continue to live like my baby had never died – like there never was a baby.
But recently, I have realized that this response is an indicator of the state of our society.
After all, it is hard for a society to mourn the loss of WANTED unborn life when it is busy calling it “tissue” and discrediting its personhood.
It is hard for a society to embrace a mourning mother for her loss of tissue when it is busy defending another mother’s right to dispose of it.
But for a woman who prays ceaselessly for life to fill her womb,
For a woman who has tried for years to finally have children of her own.
For an expectant mother who suddenly finds herself frantically calling her OB after finding bright red blood…
The “material” in her tummy is anything but tissue.
It is life.
It is hopes and dreams and answered prayers. It is destiny and a future and a promise of another generation. It is bike riding and little league and ballet lessons and college and grandkids…
It is a baby.
But it can never be both. Society can never acknowledge that we lost a baby and with the same breath declare the rest to be tissue.
That is how abortion has changed the discussion of miscarriage – it has silenced it.
Even though miscarriage affects millions of men and women each year, it won’t be featured on the news.
There will be no memorials for all of the WANTED unborn babies. There will be no moments of silence or Today Show features for women who are organizing support groups.
Despite the huge number of families miscarriage impacts each year – it will not be discussed widely.
Because if they call ours babies…
Then all of the aborted ones… were babies too…
And the silence – more than anything – speaks the loudest.
It’s time to change the discussion of miscarriage – by starting one. It is time to acknowledge the loss of neonatal life as…life… It is time to stop expecting women and men who have experienced miscarriage to stay silent in their own pain.
They have lost a child.
They may not have ever held it in their arms, but they dreamt a lifetime for that baby in their hearts.
From my little corner of the internet, I dare to say that the silence has spread far enough. It is up to us to speak for the babies who have been lost and embrace the mothers and fathers who have endured the heartache of such tragedy.
Abortion has changed the discussion of miscarriage – but we can change it again.
Because though they try to silence the lives of the aborted, they should not be able to silence the lives of the wanted as well.
You can read my story of miscarriage, here.




For those who do not know me, or haven’t read any of the rest of my articles, I would like to clarify a few things.
Am I against abortion? Yes.
Am I against those who have had an abortion? No.
Until my very last breath, I will love others to the best of my ability. I will encourage and talk and pray and walk out life with women who have had an abortion just as I would with those who have not. I am tired of the “us” vs “them.” I’m tired of the lines that divide women from loving and encouraging one another. My heart aches for those who will believe that because I’m pro-life, I am anti-women who have chosen abortion. I think that the women who have had an abortion are just as loveable as those who have not… if they aren’t… then I need to work on who I think is worthy of love. But just as I love women who have had an abortion, I will continue to pray for an end to it. They cannot be both babies and tissue, and I will forever know in my heart that each little life is a child.

May God give us grace as we work to heal wounds and save lives, as we speak for the unborn, and as we champion the cause for the sanctity of life at any stage.

Please consider passing this along.

http://www.scissortailsilk.com/

Leave your thoughts and comments please!

Indisposable Mama's "Why I Blog"

This was Beautiful. Not every reason I blog is the same, but so many are. Read, enjoy, perhaps understand.Visit Amanda's blog and enjoy her wonderful writing!

"Why I Blog" from www.indisposablemama.com.

Blogging is a strange endeavor.
We live in a society that values privacy.  We hoard it.  We hold it sacred.
And we value financial productivity.  We like to have some type of monetary or material reward when we put in vast amounts of time into some endeavor.
And we value the legitimizing force of authority — we like knowing our information was vetted by some content editor or copy writer.
And then there’s the blog.  We typically get very little in terms of monetary reward.  We stand on our own two feet without the weight of a publisher behind us.  And we forgo a certain amount of privacy in the areas we choose to write about.
We give of ourselves through our words.  We share our experiences, our thoughts, and a sometimes substantial part of ourselves.
So why would anyone do it?
I can’t answer for anyone else, but for me, I do it because it’s the only way I know to make sense out of the world.
We live in very fast times.  The vast majority of us have too much to do in too little time.  We can spend days and weeks and years being propelled forward through life by situations and events around us without ever really taking the time to stop and ask ourselves why.  Our lives become about doing rather than about being.
And blogging gives me a little opportunity to remedy that in my own life.  It gives me a space to contemplate.  Having readers holds me accountable.
I guess somewhere deep inside I have this fear that I’ll look back on my life fifty years from now and wonder where it all went, and even worse, wonder why I let it go the way that I did.  Writing allows me time to reflect on the direction it is going and why.
And then there are my girls.
Lord willing, they will have me in their lives for many years.  But no matter how many years we have, they won’t have a whole lot of lasting memories of who I was when they were little.  They might remember feelings and brief memories, but they won’t really know who I was when I was their everything.
And I want them to know me.
When they are sitting in their own living rooms with a screaming infant, I want them to know that I faced similar struggles. When they are cuddled up with their little ones reading books, feeling so much love they feel they are going to explode, I want them, I need them, to know that someone felt the same way about them.
And so I want them to know me, but not really in an effort to be known, but rather so they know that they are not alone and they aren’t the first and only when times get tough.  It’s a lonely world, and this is my feeble attempt to make it less lonely for them as they travel through it.
And I think most mom bloggers describe their blog as a love letter to their children, and so I guess I’ll just be redundant and supremely unoriginal as I say the same.
We give our kids everything we have.  Our time, our money, our attention, our affection.  We give them the best years of our lives.  And this is my way of giving them just a bit more — a piece of my soul.  I want them to be able to look back on these words and know just how special they are in my eyes.
The world is full of people who will line up to tell them what is wrong with them.  Who will hold a mirror up to their faults. Tear them down and refuse to build them back up.  And this is my small place to counter that.  To build them up.  To show them how precious they are in my eyes.  A permanent fixture to all that I believe them to be.
And I don’t need a blog to do all of this.  I’m sure there are other ways.
But a part of me just feels more alive when I’m writing.  It gives me joy.  It invigorates me.  It’s a high.  It gives me something to be excited about and to work towards.  And I guess perhaps there doesn’t really need to be any greater reason than that.
I blog because I like to.


Leave your thoughts and comments please!

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

What if We Share?

Found this beautiful post, "Before The Belly," through Glennon's Messy Beautiful Warrior Project. Read it and find a familiar story. Then she says something incredible::

"It makes me wonder: what if, instead of resisting our truth, we all told everyone we know? That we had a miscarriage, that it was devastating. That we’re struggling to get pregnant and wonder if we’ll ever be a mom. That we did fertility treatment to get our baby and we’re SO happy and proud. What if we took the silence out of struggle and loss? What if we took the shame and fear out of fertility treatment? Who could we help and what kind of community would it create?
"I envision an environment of self-acceptance and self-kindness. I see mothers being symbols of hope for not-yet mothers. I picture women caring for other women, long before the celebrations begin… and long after. Mostly I imagine that our honesty, transparency and openness would change the experience of waiting for motherhood for the better."


You all already know my own honest, transparent blog posts about these issues. But if you know someone who needs an introduction to this community, this environment, please feel free to share:

Infertility and miscarriage: http://wildtofu.blogspot.com/2013/05/to-my-friend-battling-infertility.html

Pregnancy difficulty: http://wildtofu.blogspot.com/2012/09/our-pregnancy-story-yes-i-know-its-late.html

Trying to conceive, again: http://wildtofu.blogspot.com/2013/12/hold-my-hand.html

Do you have something to share? Let me know! I'd love to create a conduit for this oh-so-important connection between women! Need somewhere to share? I'll give you guest space on my blog! (At over 10k views, you'd be sure to reach someone.)
 
Leave your thoughts and comments please!

Friday, May 9, 2014

Happy Mother's Day




 

"Who can probe a mother’s love? Who can comprehend in its entirety the lofty role of a mother? With perfect trust in God, she walks, her hand in his, into the valley of the shadow of death that you and I might come forth unto life...
"May each of us treasure this truth: one cannot forget mother and remember God. One cannot remember mother and forget God. Why? Because these two sacred persons, God and mother, partners in creation, in love, in sacrifice, in service, are as one." - Thomas S. Monson







 Motherhood 

(Taken from http://motherhood.mormon.org/

It’s the highest, holiest service assumed by humankind. It’s the definition of selfless service. It’s both a daunting responsibility and a glorious opportunity. The divine role of motherhood is a gift from God, and key to His plan of happiness for all His children.
Who helped you tie your shoes or learn a new piece on the piano? When you forgot your science project was due the next day, who made a late-night run for poster board and glue? It was Mom.
Every Christmas, even though money was always tight, who consistently pulled off a miracle and made Christmas morning magical and memorable? It was Mom.
Now that you’re a parent, you may scratch your head wondering how she did it all. Each day is filled with toys to put away and noses to wipe, dinners to make and work to squeeze in. You can’t remember when—if ever—she took time for herself. But now you feel what your mom must have felt as you watch your toddler fall asleep and listen to his giggles in the other room.
You now understand better than ever that mothers are gifts from God. In fact, motherhood is the “highest, holiest service . . . given to mankind.”




“MOTHERS ARE ENDOWED WITH A LOVE THAT IS UNLIKE ANY OTHER LOVE ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH.”Marjorie Pay Hinckley
You are a child of God who He entrusted to your mother’s care, her hands substituted for God’s as she bandaged a skinned knee or wiped away your tears. Her words of love and wisdom guided you through rough patches, instilling in you the confidence to succeed. The things she taught you became the lessons you now teach to your own children.
Being a mother is so much more than a biological process. It’s a heavenly job created by God before this life. In heaven, all of us who live now and all who have ever lived on earth lived with God as His spirit sons and daughters. God has a plan that allows all of us to come to earth, acquire physical bodies, and grow through life’s experiences, eventually returning to Him again after we die.



“There is no limit to what a mother can accomplish. Righteous women have changed the course of history and will continue to do so.”Julie B. Beck
God chose mothers to bear the responsibility of providing physical bodies for His children through the miraculous process of pregnancy and birth. Being a mother means participating in the miracle that is God’s greatest work. Thomas S. Monson, a modern-day prophet, said, “One cannot remember mother and forget God. Why? Because these two sacred persons, God and mother, partners in creation, in love, in sacrifice, in service, are as one.”
The divine role of motherhood is exhibited in all women, whether they’ve born children or not. It is important to remember that the call to nurture is not limited to our own flesh and blood. Whether it’s an aunt, a teacher, a friend, or a community leader, we are all deeply indebted to the moral, steadying influence of good women in our lives.
  



JESUS CHRIST SHOWED US THE PERFECT EXAMPLE OF HOW TO TREAT OUR MOTHERS.
Mary had humbly listened to an angel tell her that she, a virgin, would carry and give birth to the long-awaited Messiah. How would she explain to her betrothed, Joseph, what God had asked her to do? Despite her unanswered questions, she had said, “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word” (Luke 1:38).
All of the feelings of inadequacy that mothers sometimes feel must have rested on Mary, who knew that Jesus was meant to become something far greater than a mere carpenter. She watched her son confound older men in the temple and, later, turn water to wine. She heard firsthand His transcendental teachings and saw the outcome of His innumerable miracles—the blind seeing, the dead living, and the dumb speaking. She wondered at all of it.
But nothing—not scripture or miracles or prophecy—could have prepared her to watch her son die. Mary’s heart broke as Jesus was sentenced to the cruelest death imaginable. As Jesus hung from the cross, Mary looked up into her son’s tortured face and wept.
Jesus never forgot His mother, even as His crucified body trembled with indescribable pain.
From the cross, He saw His trusted disciple, and said to Mary, “Woman, behold thy son!”
And to the disciple, He said, “Behold thy mother!”
He never forgot, even in His anguish, the woman who cared for Him even before she could hold Him in her arms—the earthly mother who had prepared Him for a divine mission.




“THERE ARE FEW THINGS MORE POWERFUL THAN THE PRAYERS OF A RIGHTEOUS MOTHER.”Boyd K. Packer
Most mothers know that whenever life is overwhelming, they can turn to God. Because motherhood is a divinely appointed calling, mothers are enabled by help from above in times of need. Through sleepless nights, dark days, and seemingly impossible and difficult circumstances, the prayers of righteous mothers have been a source of unparalleled divine power in homes, communities, and entire nations.

“ALL THAT I AM OR EVER HOPE TO BE, I OWE TO MY ANGEL MOTHER.”Abraham Lincoln
So this Mother’s Day, let your mom know she’s important. Write her a card, create a tribute, send some flowers—because when you think about it: who was the champion and cheerleader for nearly everything in life you cling to with all your heart?
It was Mom.


For Those With Empty Arms

I've been here, too, for many, many Mother's Days. This is a day for you, too.

Please read "Celebrate Nurturing" by Rosemary Thackeray, in the April 2014 Ensign, pages 62-65. I'll quote only parts of it here.

"As a single woman in her 40s who has never given birth to or reared children, I do not pretend to understand the experience of motherhood and the joys, pains, sorrows, and many emotions that accompany that calling. At the same time, it is possible that women who have the privilege of motherhood do not understand the heartache that comes from knowing that one of the greatest blessings that life has to offer will have to wait for eternity. Yet as sisters in the gospel, we should strive to be empathetic."

"We should consider speaking more frequently not only of motherhood but also of nurturing and its impact on our lives. We should celebrate nurturing as often as with as much jubilation as we do motherhood."

Sheri L. Dew has said, "While we tend to equate motherhood solely with maternity, in the Lord's language, the word mother has layers of meaning. Of all the words they could have chosen to define her role and her essence, both God the Father and Adam called Eve 'the mother of all living' [Moses 4:26] - and they did so before she ever bore a child. Like Eve, our motherhood began before we were born... Motherhood is more than bearing children, though it is certainly that. It is the essence of who we are as women. It defines our very identity, our divine stature, and nature, and the unique traits our Father gave us." see Ensign, Nov. 2001, 96.



And please, please, whether our arms are empty or overflowing, let us all show love and respect for each other this day and ALWAYS. We need each other. We belong to each other.



Leave your thoughts and comments please!

Thursday, May 1, 2014

What is Falling?


Goodnight Moon for Mommies

My version of the classic bedtime story, hastily written in five minutes, so forgive the bad poetry.
Dedicated to moms everywhere who have a hard time going to bed with all there is to see:

In mom's great messy house
There was a barbie doll
And cluttered halls
And a picture of -
Something colored on the wall.
And there were mountains of clothes
And a runny nose
And two mismatched socks
And unprepared talks
And crumbs on floors
And a husband who snores
And bows and a brush
And a bowl of something that looks like mush.
Goodnight house
Goodnight cluttered halls
Goodnight writing on the walls
Goodnight dirty clothes
And the runny nose
Goodnight socks
Goodnight talks
Goodnight floors
Goodnight snores
Goodnight sippy cups
And goodnight toy pups
Goodnight dirty dishes
And goodnight bedtime kisses
Goodnight bows
And goodnight brush
Goodnight everybody
Goodnight fuss
And goodnight to that something that looks like mush
Goodnight princesses
Goodnight bears
Goodnight diapers everywhere!

(Pictures of my own messy house to follow.. MAYBE - you know, to make an actual bedtime book.)