The Stigma of Depression

In the spring of 1998 I fell into a deep abyss of depression. I couldn't function. I could barely take care of my children. I wanted to die. Reaching out for help in an LDS world felt like I'd failed. But I did reach out to my bishop who sent me to LDS Family Services for counseling. Fortunately I had a great therapist. He was very concerned about how depressed and withdrawn from life I had become and recommended I get into a doctor and start some sort of antidepressant immediately. So I called my doctor and learned it would be at least a month before I could get in to see her.  At that point all hope was lost.

My husband was home sick from work that day. I looked at him and told him it was good he was there because if he'd gone to work he would've come home to me being dead. It was a cry for help. Instead he became angry and told me how selfish I was acting. This did not help how I felt. I called my therapist and told him I appreciated his help but I was not worthy of help and deserved to be dead. He asked to speak to my husband and told him to get me to the emergency room immediately. My husband was not happy about this at all, but he took me there. 

In the ER I was asked a lot of questions about how I felt.  Then came the big question. "If we send you home are you going to hurt yourself?" Yes. Yes I will. And then I detailed my plan. The look of pure terror on my husband's face just made me feel even more of a failure. I understand now why he looked at me that way. He was truly terrified I would follow through with my plan.  Letting them know all this in the ER was my ticket to the Psychiatric Unit. I was taken to the unit within just a few minutes. They sent my husband home and gave him a way to contact me. 

I won't detail my time in the psych ward. But I will say that I learned much about how to cope with the negative thoughts that were running through my head daily. I met people with a variety of mental health conditions and realized many of us dealt with the same issues. Almost all of us had some form of religious upbringing or life. It seemed odd that we all had this love of Christ yet we couldn't find his light in our lives. 

I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and a major depressive event.  It was during this stay that I was told I would most likely spend the rest of my adult life on some form of medication therapy to maintain an even keel.  This has been pretty accurate.  If you met me face to face you would never suspect the demons I live with. The fears and the struggles. 

However, this was not my first go around with suicidal ideations.  Less than a year later I once again descended into the depths of hell.  This time I actually followed through with my plan. I took over 50 sleeping pills. My children were all at home. It was a Thursday afternoon. For some reason the pills took quite a while to kick in and my husband had come home from work. I had actually called him hours earlier at work and told him what I had done. His solution was to tell me to force myself to throw up.  I couldn't do it. I wanted to be dead. So when he came home from work and I was not acting right he realized that the drugs were taking effect.  Even at this point he did nothing. He fed the kids dinner then called his parents to see if they could watch our children that evening. It was nearly 8pm before he pulled up to the hospital. Nearly 8 hours since I had swallowed the first pill. The medications were finally taking full effect and I fell asleep. 

I remember hearing the monitors beep and everything slowing down. I remember the sense of rush and panic. Then the darkness came. Think about the darkest place you have ever been. You cannot see anything. Not even your hand an inch from your face. But this darkness was deeper. It was as if the light of Christ had been removed from me as well. Hope was lost. I could hear cries of pain and agony. Perhaps some were coming from me. I begged God to remove me from this Hell. That I wanted to go home. I wanted to be anywhere but this place.  

Then my eyes opened. The doctor was standing there and told me they thought for a minute they were going to lose me. I was given activated charcoal to drink (the other option was a tube up my nose and down my throat to pump it in). This is the nastiest stuff on earth. It's like crushing a charcoal briquette, mixing it with just enough water to make a slurry, then drinking it. It took a week to get the gritty taste out of my mouth. Even now, 17 years later. I can recall the taste. After a promise that I would not hurt myself again I was sent home. I slept for 3 days. 

Looking back I can almost understand why my husband became somewhat enamored with a woman in our ward. They had dated before he had met me. Rumors flew through the ward that an affair was going on. I'm not accusing him of an affair and stood firmly that one did not occur. An email I received after our separation told me that an affair had occurred. Whether or not this is the truth is a moot point now. I have forgiven him any indiscretion he may have had at that point. 

I know now that living with someone with mental health issues cannot be easy. My husband Dan lives with schizo-affective disorder (co occurring bipolar and schizophrenia). There are days where it is hard to cope, so I get where my ex-husband is coming from when he talked about my mental issues being difficult to deal with. But I have triumphed. Three times in the last 17 years I've had major backslides, but none required hospitalization. Therapy is my friend. Medication is required. Understanding that I have triggers and sometimes they are unpredictable. 

I want to note that my experience as the sleeping pills took affect and I slipped into darkness does not mean that is what always happens. My husband had an entirely different experience with his own suicide attempt years ago. You can read about it here. I stated this because I don't want those who read this to think their loved one who succeeded with suicide is lost. I believe God knew I needed that experience to keep me here to do a work I have yet to figure out.

Why share this now? It's the end of Suicide Awareness Month. I'm hoping that this reaches someone who feels like I did and realizes there is hope. Just reach out and there is someone there who loves  you. Don't be afraid to ask for help. It right at your finger tips. May you find peace, light, and love. And may your story not end short, but have a semicolon where it continues on.

My Spiritual Home - A Church OF Christ not about Christ

In August my family began attending church at the Community of Christ (aka RLDS). I was a bundle of nerves that day. As we approached the building a woman behind us let us know that the sign on the door said "use other door" just meant the other half of the double door we were facing. We opened the door and walked in. Immediately two women seemed to rush forward and introduce themselves to us. The one thing I noticed about each of these women was the quiet strength which seemed to flow from them. One woman introduced herself as the Pastor. I'd met other women pastors before so I wasn't too surprised. But what did surprise me was the feeling of confirmation that she was called to her position. The second woman stepped forward and introduced herself as well. Love seemed to flow from her and I could feel immediate acceptance. We entered the Sanctuary and sat down for Sunday School - wooden pews with movable cushions to sit on. We were welcomed by those around us. My husband has a friend at this congregation and he came over to welcome us.

I thought how unlike attending a new ward when you are LDS. Most people just ignore you until some Relief Society or Elders Quorum President notices you, singles you out, and makes you introduce yourself to the entire room. Something I hated even when I was more extroverted in my younger years.

After this amazing welcoming experience Sunday School began. My 13yo daughter was asked if she wanted to join the kids or the adults. She opted to join the adults. I looked around the room to take in the kind of people who attend the congregation. I saw the woman who we saw outside, a young couple, a smattering of older, possibly single women, and this older gentleman with long white hair and a long white beard. It was quite the eclectic bunch.

I heard someone walk in and I glanced behind me to see who it was. As the group wasn't very big it was easy to make eye contact with everyone. In walked this sweet looking young couple with a small child. Somehow I knew she would understand where I was coming from. As I listened to the discussion I realized that a discussion is exactly what it was. My husband's friend was leading this amazing discussion on a scripture passage. People disagreed but at the same time they respected others right to feel the way they did. I'd never experienced such an enlightened discussion in my 23  years of adulthood within the LDS Church. I found myself joining in. Even my husband and my 13 year old shared their thoughts. My 13 year old was shown love and respect for her thoughts and opinions. Something she had repeatedly told me she didn't feel when attending Young Women's.

Through out the lesson I continually felt as if someone sitting behind me to my left kept talking to me. But not a soul was there. The 2 or 3 pews behind us were all empty on the left hand side. This person kept telling me that I'd finally found it. That I was in the right place. That it was good I was there. And that they were happy I'd come home. My heart was overflowing with joy.

All too soon the lesson ended. Some of the women started talking about the April General Conference and I couldn't help but join in. These women understood what I was feeling and shared some of my frustrations. Before I knew it I was being given information for the upcoming Ladies Night in a few days. As my 18 year old was home not feeling well I couldn't wait to get home to her and tell her all about it.

Then the worship service started. I knew this would be a whole new world. There was the Call to Peace that gave me the same feeling as I had when I attended the funeral of a teacher at my children's school who had passed away a few years earlier. This teacher was Ute and the drums were played at her funeral. It was that same primal call to center ones self with the divine. The worship service wasn't too different than the ones I attended at a Granger Christian Church. There they too have a woman pastor and a great feeling of peace.

When the meeting came to an end I wanted to cry. I didn't want it to be over. I wanted it to go on all day. At the same time I was eager to get home and tell my 18 year old all about the amazing experience we had. As we were found ourselves back in the foyer I saw the display with all sorts of pamphlets about Community of Christ. There was also some copies of their version of the Doctrine and Covenants. I grabbed one curious to see the difference.

When we arrived at home I was completely energized. I talked like mad to my daughter and then suddenly felt the need to visit my mom. So off we went to see my mom.  My mom had known for years that I had struggled with the LDS Church but she supported me with my goals to be a "worthy member" even though she had her own thoughts and feelings about the church. Telling her about our experience that day was phenomenal. In fact, every time I see her we talk about Community of Christ and what is happening. She is very happy to see we have found a place where we feel we belong.

Unfortunately not everyone in my life is as happy for me as my mom.  I have friends who are delighted along with other family members. My dad is heartbroken and I understand why. I love him regardless and without condition. Others have been less than thrilled and some have been down right harsh.

You see, I was not upfront with anyone about my doubts and concerns over my membership in the LDS Church. I constantly felt like a square peg trying to be forced into a round hole.  It just wasn't working. I researched other churches and over the years I had visited many denominations. In fact, I attended Granger Christian Church on a fairly regular basis for over a year. It was there that I fully embraced the Savior and acknowledge that without him in my life I cannot be saved. Anyways, I had spent most of my life intrigued by the Community of Christ. It drove my ex-husband and father crazy. I always wanted to know more and was discouraged.   So when I told people I was dealing with a faith crisis they became worried and I noticed a bit of a "circle the wagons" mentality coming up from our ward. So I asked to be left alone to figure it out. I let them know the only thing I needed was prayers to find the answers I was looking for. I highly doubt any of these people realized the direction their prayers would ultimately send me.

About two weeks before we took the step to attend Community of Christ I asked my husband to reach out to his friend for more specific information as to what to expect. I didn't want to walk into this and be blindsided. His friend had left the LDS Church and joined Community of Christ less than a year before and I figured he'd be a good resource. And he was and still is. So walking into church I had a general idea of what to expect. I was still hesitant to actually attend and it took nearly 2 weeks to work up the courage. I'm glad I was daring enough to do something different.

We are still having our usual struggles, but we are finding ways to handle them and make the necessary changes without always running to the bishop for help and advice. We have a new range of friends and feel like we are part of an actual community. Recently my lupus came out of remission These people actually care and have asked what can be done to help us and would we like to be on the prayer roll. I've received a priesthood blessing from a woman who I call friend and guide. In whom I have no doubt was called to the priesthood. Today I joined in a business meeting at church as 5 people had their names put forward to hold a priesthood office. 2 men and 3 women. Only 1 of them I have not had the opportunity to really get to know but I felt the witness that these calls are of God. In fact, with two of them I was surprised that they did not already hold the priesthood office already.

So why change now? Why at 41 years of age did I decide to leave the LDS Church? Quite simply because I am, for the first time in my life, truly following where the Holy Spirit is guiding me. I have placed my life in her hands and asked her to take me to my home here on Earth. She has led me to this amazing congregation and wonderful new friends. She has encouraged me to ask questions and kept my heart open to the new things I need to learn before fully becoming a member of this congregation. I know I have found my home. My religious center. My peace. And my truly relationship with the divine.

I found my Home Sweet Home...

Power of Priesthood Blessings.

The first time I remember receiving a priesthood blessing I was 7 years old and sick with pneumonia. I remember my dad and a couple of other men being there as they blessed me to be made whole. The one thing that has stuck in my memory is my own thought of "leave me alone, I don't feel good". I guess at age 7 I didn't understand the power of prayer.

As a teenager I at times, even in my uncertainty of God and Christ's existence, I would ask my dad for a blessing. He knew I was struggling spiritually. And he was there to support me however he could. I can't say the blessings ever brought me much peace, but it was a foundation to be built upon. And it taught me that having a priesthood holder in the home is vital.

Two and a half years into marriage and my husband still held the office of Priest. He had not been ordained to the Melchizedek priesthood but was going to be in just a few short month. This is when my first real experience with blessings occurred. Our oldest had her left eye suddenly cross in. I took her to the doctor as she'd had a concussion a few months before and I was concerned it was related. The doctor looked at her eyes and did a thorough exam. He then informed me that she needed an MRI as soon as possible. He picked up the phone and called the local children's hospital to schedule the test. I could see the disappointment on his face when he was told it would need to be the next day. I was scared. And his next words brought terror into my heart. He told me to prepare for the worst. What kind of doctor does that? Naturally I was terrified.

What was he seeing and how will we cope with something horrific happening to our little girl? My husband immediately called our home teachers and they came that evening to give her a blessing. Now my kiddo would not sit for the blessing unless she was in my arms. The home teachers were less than thrilled with the situation, but went along with it. After her blessing I still didn't feel much peace. I was so afraid I'd lose my child to something awful.

As I put her to bed that night I held her close and prayed. I asked God to heal my child. That I knew she had a great purpose here on Earth. Tears fell as I begged God to spare this child. I felt such warmth and peace spread throughout my body as I prayed. I kissed her on the top of the head, tucked her in, and left the room. My husband didn't want to talk about what was happening so I pulled inward and tried to understand what was going on. I called my mom and she reminded me to pray

Finally exhaustion won and I crawled into bed to sleep. At some point during the night I woke to a glorious bright light in my room and a person standing next to my bed (which was a feat because I had boxes of books there). This person told me that because of my faith and my prayers my daughter was to be made whole. This person went on to explain what was going on and the dangers that would occur if it were not for the prayers for healing I had given that night. I cried and cried. The person and the light left my room. I woke my husband, astounded that he slept through this event, and told him what had happened. He said I'd had a vivid dream and to go back to sleep.

The next day we took our daughter to the hospital for the MRI. She fought the medications they gave her to help her sleep. She even managed to break a papoose board they had strapped her to in hopes of placing an IV and giving her medication that way. My mom showed up and hugged my daughter. I picked up this adorable little fighter and held her and rocked her. I had a hand on her head holding it against my chest and prayed that she would calm down and let the medicine take hold so the test could be done. Soon after she fell asleep and we placed her on the MRI machine. About an  hour later they came and got us. She had slept through the entire test and once she woke up and ate something we could go home. We were also told to the doctor would call with the results.

It took two days for the call to come. Two very long, very stressful days. Then the call came. I was expecting to be asked to meet him at his office, but no. He stated it was good news. Whatever it was he saw was not on the MRI. He had been certain there was a mass there, but the MRI was clean. We received a referral to an ophthalmologist to follow up with her eyes. My daughter was healed. Well mostly healed. Her left eye remained crossed and the ophthalmologist gave us the diagnosis of amblyopia (lazy eye). We did the patching method and the fresnal prism lens. These did not help so she required surgery. Thankfully this was not as traumatic as the MRI to get her to sleep. We expected a full recovery and for a while it seem that all was well. Then she began to have vision issues with her left eye. Black spots occurred. It seems that while the surgery straightened her eye the effect of the surgery weren't as good. She would continue to lose vision and eventually go blind. But her eyes will be straight. It was a tough pill to swallow.  All my prayers seemed unanswered, until I realized I was waiting for that bright light and person to show up again. Then my prayers were answered with the reminder that my daughter had been healed once already and for that I should always be grateful. This new development would be hers to overcome and I just needed to be supportive. Now this child is 22  years old, married, and attending one of the toughest engineering colleges in the US.

In the midst of all of this my husband was ordained to the Melchizedek priesthood. I was also struggling with my 3rd pregnancy. I received many blessings during that pregnancy, but never felt that particular peace with it. It felt as if something was missing. Any time my husband gave me a blessing it felt empty. I still can't explain it other than to say I don't think I trusted his faith at that point.

Years went by and if I wanted a blessing I typically turned to my dad for one. I'm sure it offended my husband, but I felt more at peach having my dad bless me. His faith in the power of prayer inspired me to work on my faith.

When my divorce happened many people in our ward made sure I knew where a priesthood holder lived so I could get a blessing when needed. they apologized because I didn't have a priesthood holder in my home. I ended up living  8 years without a priesthood holder in my home, yet blessing occurred often. I frequently gave my daughters blessings. My youngest became very sick and I placed my hands on her head and blessed her with a healing prayer.

This may all seem somewhat heretical to those who feel only worthy priesthood holders can give blessings, but anyone can say a prayer. That's all it is. You are drawing on the power you are born with to send energy to another person. I have had some of the most comforting and healing prayers from a dear friend in Pennsylvania. I can always feel her presence when she prayers for me. And being we deal with a lot of similar health issues we pray for one another daily.

Where am I going with all of this? Well this past week I asked the pastor at the Community of Christ congregation we are attending for a blessing. She has been called to be an apostle so I knew this would be a unique blessing. I can tell you there are some subtle differences in the healing prayers of the LDS Church and the Community of Christ. I can also tell you that any questions I've had about where the priesthood keys are held were answered.

This was the single most beautiful experience I have had in communication with the Lord. You see, when my dad or another LDS priesthood holder would give me a blessing I felt as if someone had wrapped their arms around me in comfort and protection. I still believe that this is because of my faith and not just because of the blessing. As my sweet friend and pastor Robin laid her hands on my head and began to pray no arms of comfort came around me. It was odd. I was trying to concentrate on her words, but my mind insisted on asked why I wasn't feeling the same thing I'd almost always felt. A voice came into my mind and spoke. This voice told me that I no longer needed that protection. Within seconds the room seemed to fill with people. I felt the presence of loved ones that have passed on. And all of my questions about my faith journey and where I was going were answered.

When the blessing ended I fully expected to see a room packed with people upon opening my eyes. Instead I saw Robin and Dan.  My husband looked at me expectantly. I through my arms around Robin and thanked her for the blessing. I knew that what ever comes next is what is meant to be. I hugged my husband and we spoke with Robin about the process required to join Community of Christ.

Yes, priesthood blessings can be an amazing thing. But I don't think only a priesthood holder has the power to bless someone. I believe that anyone can bless another person as long as they both have faith that the blessing will be heard. I believe that the comfort of having someone lay their hands on your head and pray for you while sharing their healing energy does not require priesthood keys. This power is within us all. I, for one, plan to access this power more often now. Next time my kids get sick I won't race around looking for a worthy priesthood holder (my husband has left the LDS Church and so have I). Instead I will take the healing power bestowed upon me by God and pray over my child myself. I will do this for my husband as well. Having faith in the power of prayer is a cornerstone of my faith foundation. And I am blessed to have such faith in my life.

After all, Joseph Smith did tell the women at the first ever meeting of the Relief Society that they have the ability to perform blessings as well. And if he, the one through who the priesthood keys were restored, stated that women have the power to give blessings then who am I to deny that right to myself and any other woman.

Temple Divorce

Just over 4 years ago I remarried. My husband is a wonderful and supportive man. He's been a support of the Ordain Women movement. He has always shown kindness and respect for people regardless of race, religion, nationality, ability, and/or gender. To have him as a step parent to my children, especially my two youngest has been a blessing.

Dan was raised with divorced parents so he gets the whole step parent gig from the viewpoint of the child. He has always known how to react to the snotty comments and rolled with the punches. Plus he has never tried to usurp their father's roll.  Because of various reasons that I'll get into in another post, he is less than thrilled with my ex, but he still treats him respectfully when it matters.

Why do I tell you all of this with the title being "Temple Divorce"? Well it's to give you a little bit of a picture of the man I once planned to marry in the temple. That's right...planned. It is no longer the plan. "Why?"  you may ask. I firmly believe it's because of the unfairness that is inherent with the whole system of canceling a sealing.

In 1996 I was sealed to my ex-husband and our two oldest were sealed to us. Having done this, my two youngest are born in the covenant or BIC. At one time this was a huge deal for me. Then a good friend lost her child in an accident. This friend is not sealed to her children. It made me question the whole being together in the next life thing that the LDS Church expounds upon. That we can only be a family if we all adhere strictly to the rules that the church has laid out for us. But if we don't then we are going to be split up between degrees of glory. I can't see a loving God tearing apart families because we are imperfect. And I couldn't fathom that my friend wouldn't be able to be reunited in the hereafter with her child. I just does not compute.

Even as I was questioning this I still had the desire to be sealed to Dan. I met with my bishop and asked what steps needed to be taken to have my previous sealing cancelled. I had to fill out a form and write a letter to the First Presidency. Then I was to give those to the bishop and he would add his own thoughts if necessary and pass it on to the Stake President. Once the Stake President received it, he would review it and call me in to discuss the request before sending it off to the First Presidency for a final decision. He would also request a letter of permission from my ex-husband for me to be sealed to another man.

So I diligently filled out the paperwork and struggled through a letter. I turned over the whole shebang to my Bishop and waited. Nothing happened. I waited a few weeks and heard nothing. So I went back to my bishop and he had lost the paperwork. So I filled it out again and wrote yet another letter. I turned it all in and waited. Then our bishop was released and a new bishop put into place. A few months had gone by and I still had heard nothing. So I made an appointment with the bishop and found out he knew nothing about it (which didn't really surprise me). But he said he would ask the Stake President about it on my behalf. The news I received back had me fuming...the paperwork was never received.

At this point we had been married 2 1/2 years. So we decided we'd try for our 3rd anniversary to be sealed. Once again I filled out the paperwork. And I wrote yet another letter. Each letter was difficult, but this one more-so because communication between my ex and myself had completely disappeared. So I had no clue if he would respond favorably or not. I was rather frustrated with the whole process at this point. After I gave the bishop the paperwork he met with me and let me know he had forwarded to the Stake President. He recommended my husband and I attend the temple weekly and perform sealings. So we started to do so. At this point we were about 2 months away from our 3rd anniversary. The day grew closer and closer. Then it came and went. No word from the Stake President. I was so angry. How could this keep getting blown off?

I finally asked the bishop if he was certain the paperwork was given to the stake president. He stated that he delivered it himself to the Stake Executive Secretary. Now this is a man I do not know. The bishop provided me with his number and I went home and called him. I stated that I was waiting for an appointment with the Stake President because I was requesting to have my first sealing cancelled. He said he'd check with the Stake President and get back to me. Not too many weeks later it was Stake Conference. Finally the perfect chance to talk to the Stake President about canceling my sealing. Speaking with him was an exercise in futility. He told me to get the paperwork from my bishop, fill it out, write a letter, give it back to my bishop, and then my bishop would forward it on to him. I told him all that had already happened. He looked at me and stated he had received no such paperwork and to go back to my bishop.

At this point we were waist deep in wedding preparations for my oldest daughter. I didn't have the energy to deal with this sealing Something that should have been a slam dunk (he's a registered sex offender) had turned into a comedy of errors. And I was fed up with it. I looked at my husband and told him that I had the feeling God was out to destroy us. There were a lot of tears. It was at this point that I first looked at the website for Community of Christ.

I knew there had to be a better way. Why is my willingness to be with Dan for time and eternity being put into jeopardy by a bunch of men? Why must I have to get all of this permission just to be "properly married" according to LDS Standards? I was so unfair. Yet if my ex wants to marry another woman in the temple he doesn't require permission from me. He can marry a hundred women in the temple and it's all good.

I told my husband that I was not going to fill out the paperwork again. He seemed rather hurt. I told him I was committed to him for eternity and there was no was God was honestly going to deny me forever with him. Warmth filled my whole being and I knew that God approved. So if he approved what did I need some man created ordinance for?

People still ask when we are going to be sealed. I tell them we aren't because we don't believe it is necessary. God won't tear us apart because we have covenanted to each other to be together for all eternity. And because God is good I have faith it will happen.

For those of you trying to obtain a temple divorce, you have my prayers. For some I know it is a desire and a hope. I want  you to find your happiness. My own child is embarking on her own journey to go to the temple and I'm thrilled for her. She understands I won't be there inside the temple, but if I can get to where she goes through then I'll be excitedly waiting outside for her.

As for me...well I know that when I resign my membership it will cancel my sealing. I still feel that my children are mine for an eternity and have no regrets. It's my own witness from God that tells me this although I know many who will disagree.

If the men who were involved in this failure to submit paperwork and follow through properly read this blog, please know I understand you are human. I feel that this was part of a greater plan. I am happy with my choice.

If someone higher up in the LDS Church reads this, It's time to change the way you approach this. It's time to take so many people out of the process and streamline it. The more people who handle it the more likely it is for someone to lose something. Let those who desire a temple divorce write directly to the First Presidency. Make it fair for both men and women. Either let women marry a new husband in the temple without a temple divorce or force men to obtain a temple divorce before marrying a new wife. It's time to level the playing field.

Challenging the Priesthood Authority

January 3, 1997 my third child came into my life. So beautiful and delicate. And determined to do everything her own way as she was the only one of my children to be born late. Now they say when you increase your family from 1 child to 2 children it is the most difficult transition. I forcefully disagree. Adding child number 3 is the hardest. Not only are you now out numbered as parents, but even just doing things alone with 2 kids was easier than 3 (at least at first). She was also the only one that I didn't have anyone around to help with the transition as even my husband had to return to work when she was 3 days old. Know this it will come to no surprise that I became depressed.

The one joy I did have was the bi-monthly YW Presidency Meetings I attended.  Spending time with these amazing women as we worked together to schedule lessons and activities was precious. Plus it gave me time in adult-land. Yes, I left the kids home for dad to "babysit" (FYI for the men out there...if you call caring for your own children babysitting I suggest you reassess your feelings towards them and your spouse). By mid-March my husband had had enough.

After a meeting one Sunday afternoon I was met at home by an angry husband who proclaimed that my calling at church was interfering with my ability to be a mom. He demanded that I ask the bishop to be released. Oh how we fought about this. I finally agreed just to keep the peace.

The next Sunday I met with the bishop during Sunday School.  Here is where the twist occurs. During the previous few months a new bishop had been called. In fact, he is a repeat bishop having served as bishop many years before. I had a lot of respect for him and did not want to meet with him, yet I did. I explained that I needed to be released. He asked why and I explained how my husband felt. I was asked to give him a week to take it under consideration. Sacrament Meeting was not very pleasant and at home I faced a furious husband who accused me of lying when I said I'd asked to be released.

After a tense week Sunday finally rolled around. My husband met with the bishop during Sunday School. When he came out of the bishop's office I knew he was angry. I was also grateful that looks could not kill. He told me the bishop wanted to speak with me. I walked into the bishop's office and sat down Here I was told that I was not being released. He reminded me that the previous week I had spoke about how I felt at peach because I was working with kids. Then he told me to let him know if my husband had any further issues with my calling.  And to top it all of, he dismissed the speakers for Sacrament Meeting. He spoke eloquently about how a husband is required to support his wife in her calling and if anyone felt they could not do that to come see him and he will have something for them.

If I thought the previous week was rough, this week was nearly impossible. I was accused of all manner of attitude and subterfuge with the bishop. That I was making up the truth of what happened. The next Sunday was Easter Sunday. We attended services and nothing was left in the bank. Then we went to my family 's Easter Party. I helped pass out goodies to be found. My husband complained to one of my brothers-in-law about how unfairly our bishop treated him. And that went over like a lead balloon. He had zero supporters in the room.

At home that evening he complained that I made him look week in front of our bishop and my family. I tried to tell him that his actions show how week he is, but I refrained. I told him we just need to redefine our expectations. Naturally this never happened. He stated he was hurt that I attempted to usurp his authority in our family. Is it any wonder we divorced a few years latter.

This was my first real time at confronting the social norms of Priesthood Authority, but it certainly hasn't been my last.

Temple Covenants, Church Callings, and Pregnancy Problems

Right about the time we moved into our home my parents separated. This was hard as they had been married 38 years. I'm sure it was harder on my older siblings, but still it was hard. Being the youngest I wondered often if they had stayed together because of me. I know now that this is not the case. Sometimes divorce happens. I tell you this because the final catalyst in me finally agreeing to prepare to go through the LDS Temple, take out my endowments, and be sealed to my husband and our children wasn't his family and their constant pushing, but my parents marriage coming to an end. No I don't blame them, it was just how things panned out. I wanted to prove, in some warped way, that my marriage was strong than it appeared. So we started attending church and paying our tithing.

I believe I mentioned in my previous post, Beware the Mother-in-law, that we were now living in the ward of my husband's other grandma. Unlike his sweet little Danish grandma who was just happy to see us on Sunday whether at church or at her home, this grandma came to our home after church wanting to know why we weren't at church if we happened to miss a day. Nothing like your own Mormanity Monitor.  This bugged me and I admit I went to church at first just to keep her off my back. Then we received callings. He was called to be a counselor in the Young Men's Presidency and as Assistant Scout Master (this would later lead to Scout Master). I was called as the Primary President. I will say this about callings, if you have new members in your ward do not place them in callings where they are not able to interact with the bulk of the ward. Being in our own little corner for Primary felt like we were a world away from everyone. I had no clue how to interact with the other adults since I was in Primary. But I did learn a lot about the parents and what went on at home. Anyways, for some reason I decided the best way to deal with the nosy grandma was to make her my secretary in Primary. Well the bishop decided that she needed to be a counselor instead. Not quite what I had in mind, but oh well. She lasted about 3 months and asked to be released.

Now during this time we were paying our tithing diligently and struggling to make ends meet. When the new year started I decided I would become a Tupperware Lady. I did a decent job of it. Once people realized I was willing to travel out of my area for parties I had other saleswomen offering me party requests for 2-3 hours away. I was meeting lots of people and having a blast. I started making a fair amount of money too. I made enough that my husband could quit his second job completely. Then came the month I netted nearly the same dollar amount as he made. Let's just say all was not well in our home. It was then that he started to complain about how much time I spent away from home (2 nights a week and part of Saturday). I was enjoying myself and had signed up a couple of new recruits. This is when it all went downhill.

Over the course of "wifely duty" I found I was expecting my third child. I hate to say it, but I was not happy. I had horrible morning sickness that lasted all day long. It was a struggle to fix something as basic as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I was angry. Evidently he announced in priesthood one Sunday that we were expecting. So here I had people I still barely knew congratulating me. About this time the bishop decided to congratulate me and was informed that this baby was neither planned or something I was happy about. He told me that the way to prevent it was to abstain, but that it violated spousal duties to do so. I was livid and informed him quite loudly and right outside the Relief Society room that I was not discussing my sex life with a man who obviously doesn't know how to keep it in his pants.

A few days later my feelings about my pregnancy changed rapidly. I started cramping and spotting. We went to the ER and I was put on bed rest for 2 weeks. We were told that it didn't look like I'd lose the baby but I needed to take it easy. At this point the definition of bed rest for my husband was to not do anything too difficult like mow the lawn, but taking care of the kids was ok. Oh, and I needed to quit my Tupperware business immediately. I told him I'd schedule book parties through the pregnancy but I refused to give it up completely.

Once I was off bed rest it was back to church. That first Sunday back I was summoned to the bishop's office. I walked in to find my husband already there. Seems my husband was being promoted to Scout Master and they had decided that the time it took for me to do my duties as Primary President took too much away from the family, so I was going to be released soon. I asked why I had even been invited to participate in this pow-wow if they had already decided everything without me. The bishop looked at me and said it was actually because my husband was concerned that I had become uninterested with maintaining the family home and my other wifely duties. WTF!!!! I had just gotten off bed rest during which I still prepared meals, washed dishes, took care of laundry, and cleaned the house. I had asked him to vacuum and help occasionally with dished on the weekend. I was in no condition to be doing everything I was, but I was found lacking. I informed the bishop to release me that same day as I would not continue in the calling after Primary ended that day. I walked back and told my counselors and secretary that I was being released that day but didn't explain anything else.

It was about this time my dad had a cardiovascular event. Not quite a heart attack but an issue severe enough 911 was called and within 48 hours he was in surgery for a quadruple bypass. This happened on Father's Day 1996. I remember it well because I was upset  he had recently gotten engaged and because of how I felt I did not visit him nor call him for Father's Day. Not one of my better moments. My soon-to-be step-mom stayed by my dad's side through it all. And I apologized for my actions.

It was at the end of June that I was called as the YW secretary. This was a calling I thoroughly enjoyed. I loved hanging out with the teenage girls. They were a delight to be around.  Because we were both in callings with the Youth it meant our activity nights always seemed to lead to an argument over which of us would keep the kids. Grandma didn't want to help so we had to take the girls every week. We often split the girls with me taking the oldest and him taking the next oldest.

For some reason he planned scout camp right around July 24th. He would have to take our only vehicle which meant I would not be spending the holiday with any of my family. I'd be at home with the kids. Thankfully our ward decided to throw a BBQ for all those who had no where to go. And as luck would have it, the husband came home early to surprise me and planned to go up the next day for a few hours to help them pack up and come home. I was glad because I really didn't feel well. By the next evening it was obvious I was sick. One of the men in the ward stopped by to see my husband, who still wasn't home, and saw how sick I looked. He asked me to let him take the girls down to his house where his wife and youngest daughter. I really didn't care what he did, I just wanted to sleep. So he figured out what was needed on his own and walked with my kids down the street to his house. He then went in search of my husband. When he found him he informed him that I needed to to to the ER right away. My husband apparently told him he'd head home once he was done. This amazing man "helped" my husband come home and take me to the ER. I spent 5 days in the hospital with pyelonephritis (fancy term for a kidney infection). The only upside to all this was the uninterrupted hours of watching the Olympics. The downside, well a big one that came out many years later, is that this is when Lupus was triggered.

After a few days in the hospital, I came home to a house that looked like WWIII had happened and we lost. It was a disaster. So bad that my sister came to clean and I was totally ashamed. I asked her a while back to quite bringing this up because I had no control over the situation at the time. After my house was clean I got to where I would drive to one of my sisters homes for the day. Or I would spend a few hours at a friends house. This is all in the attempt to keep my house cleaner. I figured if I wasn't at home then my house wouldn't get dirty.

Needless to say I was quite depressed but unwilling to tell anyone. Then one day at a friend's house I noticed I was spotting again. This scared me. I had a doctor's appointment the next day so I just waited. I told my midwife and she ordered me to a modified bed rest (modified because I told her there was no way my husband would accept me being on full bedrest). I had to lie down for at least 4 hours every day...preferably in the afternoon and no going anywhere without another adult with me. I did not mention that we were about to go through the temple, but in retrospect I should have.

The day came that we were going to take out our endowments and be sealed. It started off with our water heater breaking and us all bathing in cold water. Our escorts were late by 45 min. And there aren't "brides dresses" for pregnant women. It was a very long day. The initiatory was odd and very offensive. The endowment was not spiritual at all for me. I just wanted to get it over with as this was just some bizarre ritualistic stuff that did not seem to be in line with anything of God. Then came the sealing ceremony. We had to wait nearly an hour because the Mother-in-law went to the wrong temple. And evidently the temple workers did not appreciate me saying we could do it without her there. Again it felt very ritualistic and odd, but I did feel more at peace with it. Then our kids were brought in to be seal to us and the oldest decided that right that moment was the perfect time to throw a temper tantrum. I wanted to cry...and think I may have. The sealer was quick and performed the ordinance. What I couldn't get out of my head was the fact that everything I covenanted to was first to my husband and then to God...yet he didn't have to covenant to me and then God.

Everyone told me you gain more understanding the more you attend the temple. I'm not sure what understanding was to be gained, but I did get to where I knew the right words to say at the right time. And there was definitely a certain peace to be away from the outside world. But that day I left the temple feeling like I'd just sold my soul to the devil. Not a good thing. And there was no one I could tell how I felt. When I tried to say something I was told that it would change if I attended frequently. Needless to say I've never been a frequent temple attendee.

Now there are a lot of things that go on inside the temple. I made a promise to God I would not discuss them openly and I chose to keep that promise. There are lots of questions and suppositions about what happens in the temple. While I may have chosen to remove my garments (a prayerful decision made with God) I still am willing to uphold the promise to keep the nitty gritty details to myself unless speaking with one who has also had this experience. Not once have I ever felt blessed for having a temple marriage. I've never felt more confined and controlled by others. I fully understand that many feel blessed and had beautiful experiences within the temple, but it all just seemed a little too odd for my taste.

We made it to the temple one more time before our 3rd daughter came along. The evening at the temple was followed by preterm labor and a few more months of bed rest. This time with the admonition from the doctors to my husband that zero spousal duties were to be entertained by me. If he wanted a healthy wife and healthy child he'd have to make sure I stayed in bed and let this little one stay put. With help from family and our ward the little angel made her appearance 2 days past her due date.

Beware the Mother-in-law

By then end of the 7th month of my marriage we had moved to a new apartment and quit attending church. It was the first experience my husband had ever had of people not being welcoming to members. During Sacrament Meeting the bishop had stated that after church new members could take the time to introduce themselves to the Relief Society President and Elders Quorum President. He stated there would be an information sheet we could fill out on our family and turned in to either Presidency member. We filled out the paper and I took it up to the RS President with my husband in tow. When I handed it to her she looked at me and said it wasn't worth the effort because members move in and out of the ward all the time so why bother to bet to know them. When I attempted to be polite and introduce ourselves to her she told me she had better things to do with her day than deal with new ward members. With that she turned and walked away. The Elders Quorum President was no where to be found. A helpful ward member said the man had left during the closing hymn and never stuck around to meet new ward member.

I was not surprised by the attitudes, but my husband was. He could not understand how member of the church could be so callous. We went for a couple more weeks and he said he'd rather not go if we were going to be ignored and treated as non-entities.  He was truly hurt and had his faith a little rattled. I just dealt with it and moved on.

A short time later we found out we were expecting our second child. Delighted to know another child was on the way, we began to make what preparations we could. In the midst of this I suddenly had a call from my visiting teachers. They became the only contact we had with the ward. They made sure I knew about every homemaking night and even picked me and my daughter up a couple of times to attend because my husband was working two jobs *so I could stay at home) and we only had one car. I was grateful for their efforts. When my child was born they visited me at the hospital and let me know that dinners had been arranged for the next week. People I didn't even know showed up with some amazing food.  My visiting teachers came over to help clean my apartment for a couple of weeks. And 8 weeks later as we packed up and moved out, they came and helped us pack up. It was the only good experience we had within the ward. Whenever I would attempt to attend church I continues to be treated poorly because I lived in an apartment.

We lived with my in-laws for a few months while waiting to purchase a home. Now, if your in-laws like you, particularly your mother-in-law, I've heard this can be a great bonding experience. It wasn't so for me. I turned into the maid. I fixed nearly all meals for a family of not just 3 *since the baby was still to little for regular food) but a family of 10. Often there were complaints about my cooking because I made food differently than my mother-in-law. In lieu of rent we bought groceries for the household. I think it would've been cheaper to pay rent. We had no privacy. Yes we had two rooms in the basement allotted to us, but that didn't mean privacy. More than once a family member would randomly stroll into our room in the wee hours of morning and find us in a compromising position. It was embarrassing and led to his mom telling me that I need to be more respectful of the fact there are teenagers in the house. Then came the his older sister who had two kids of her own. She would randomly drop by, sometimes multiple times in a day, with her kids and tell her son to go to Aunt Shan's room to watch a movie. Now this is all fine and dandy if I'm asked, but that didn't seem to be a consideration she was willing to make. More than once I found him in my kids room waking them up from naps. One time she sent him in there while we were gone and I found my freshly laundered and stacked clothing scattered across the floor with peanut butter and jam rubbed all over the place...including on my TV. I was livid. My husband told me he would talk to his mom and sister and I was not to say a word. Well he didn't and the issues continued. Then the baby got sick. She spent an entire night up crying in pain. The next day one of his younger sisters informed me that I needed to learn how to keep my brat quiet at night. Exhausted and having not slept in over 36 hours and with my mother-in-law backing up her daughter I snapped. I call her a spoiled little shit and slapped her across the face. I think they were shocked. I then turned to my mother-in-law and told her under no uncertain terms was my stuff to be touched by ANYONE other than me or my husband. I walked downstairs, holding a sobbing baby, packed up a bunch of clothes for me and my daughters, loaded it all up and drove to my mom's house. I called my husband at work (he worked for his dad) and told him to call his second job and tell them he was without a car for a few days. I then told him I would be at my mom's until I could find someplace else to live. I was done.

Needless to say, my husband heard a different side of the story from his mom and sister. It was the first time I fully stood my ground against his family and it would not be the last. His oldest sister came to my mom's house to ask what had happened and I told her. I also told her that her treating my space as a babysitter for her son was disrespectful. She was upset but asked why I hadn't said something sooner. I told her I didn't on the counsel of my husband. She apologized and asked what she could do to help me out. She went and packed up our rooms for me so I didn't have to go back. She babysat while I hunted for a place to live. And then she babysat the day we moved.

This outburst just added to their feeling that I was entirely unsuitable for their precious son.  Now, in their defense, they had a different dream for him and me ending up pregnant with his child not long after graduation and us not rushing to the alter certainly didn't win me any favors. Now that I have adult children I can see it from their perspective, which is why I've fought hard to just love and support my children. Last year I even broke my word that I would not pay for a wedding unless my daughters had a viable college degree by paying for my oldest to get married while she was still in college and had another 3 semesters to go. And for the record, I adore my son-in-law. He is the most amazing young man and I couldn't pick anyone better than him for my daughter.

A week or two after these events my mother-in-law stopped by to see her grandchildren. She apologized but I was hesitant to accept it. To keep the piece I did so and we agreed to try harder to work together for the sake of our respective relationships with her son.  Years later I found out this was all play-acting on her part and the part of most of his family. But that's another story.

23 months into the marriage we finally closed on a house and became home owners. I was very depressed and unhappy. I didn't feel like I had anyone to talk to because I when I did say something my family told me to suck it up because I chose to marry him. What I was truly looking for was someone to tell me to leave him. I really felt I needed permission.

The new ward was much nicer and once again we were in a ward with one of his grandma's. Only this is the grandma who would randomly stop by and let me know when the cleanliness of my house didn't meet her standards. And it was never going to meet her standards I soon came to find out. I was told to tread lightly with this particular grandma because she has a "black list" and if you make her mad you are on her list. One day, not sure what exactly I said or did, she stated she was very angry with me. I looked at her and told her that it was her job to deal with her emotions and not blame me for them. I held my ground and she actually respected me for it. I even told her she could put me on her black list and I really didn't care. I had enough family to love me that her ignoring me would only mean I never brought my kids to see her. But I guess divorcing her grandson was a good enough reason to black list me...and my kids have barely seen her in the years since.

During these months I learned a lot about myself and that I wasn't a very good wife. I was too opinionated and wanted to speak my mind without my husband's permission. However, I was told repeatedly by the in-laws that I needed to defer to him in all matters. This was a hard lesson and seldom did it ever work out favorably. The next 8+ years will show how this slowly spiraled out of control and led to the end of my marriage and my the beginning to the journey to fine out who Shandra really is.

Realizing the Divine Woman Within

I'm taking a sidestep from where I've been headed with this blog. The reason...Women's Retreat this weekend.  This added to a comparison of situations from years ago and this weekend.

Many years ago I was invited to attend a series of classes taught through the LDS Church for women leaders. When I attempted to go to them my husband (now ex-husband) cited how difficult it would be for him to have to "babysit" all those evenings I would be gone. So I didn't go. I felt as if I'd missed out on an opportunity.  When the opportunity came up again I didn't even bring it up.  Even RS Activities would be a problem if a nursery wasn't provided. I quit trying.  The reason I tell  you this is so you understand the uniqueness of the events of this weekend.

I had known for nearly a month about the Women's Retreat.  I felt the desire to go but was hesitant. Money is tight, but I knew that something could be worked out. I couldn't be there as early as everyone else and didn't want to leave my husband without a vehicle. Basically I was looking for a reason NOT to go.  Then Friday I expressed via Facebook my desire to join these new friends on this quest. And suddenly I had a ride and she could be at my house in just a short time. I looked at my husband expecting to be told all the reasons it wasn't right for me to go. Instead he said, "What can I do to help you pack?" He and my two  youngest daughters helped me pack in under 10 minutes. My ride showed up...a delightful young mother not much older than my oldest and she had even attended the same college my oldest now attends.

Hope is an amazing woman and I learned much from her as we shared our stories of seeking. We are both on different paths that happen to have converged. Whether this convergence remains or we separate down the line matters not to me. For I have found a friend in Christ.

This weekend was about Discovering the Divine Feminine.  While I'm not as much of a die-hard feminist as say, my husband, I am finding that I am more of a feminist than I realized. But divine...that I was uncertain about. So this weekend was one of learning for me.

While much is still in a processing mode for me, I can tell you that I have learned that I truly am Divine. That I do have Worth. That my father and mother in heaven created me out of love.  And that I need not be afraid to thank the Goddess who created me. She is Worth the recognition and love. She has brought much joy to my life and for her I am eternally grateful.

I learned to not be afraid to proclaim my divinity. I'm not stating I'm any better than anyone else...I'm not to be put higher than another, but I am a worthwhile member of the circle that reaches for unity and equality in everything. I've learned that the Living Water is within me and that I can draw on this as often as needed.

The women I met are all on a spiritual journey. Some are still seeking, like I am. Others are secure in where they are now, but understand the importance of continuing the journey.

So...with all of this information this weekend I learned something very vital. I have been raised (not by my parents but by my religious family) to believe I only have worth if I am following the teachings of the LDS Church and meeting their set of standards. Why on earth should I have less worth because I falter and make mistakes? Why should I be treated as the adulterous woman was by the Pharisees? That should never happen. It shouldn't happen to any woman...to any person. Why have I never been lifted up by my faith? It's easy to blame the patriarchy...the men...but it is the women who have done this. This isn't to say there aren't certain people who have treated me well regardless of the situations I've lived through, because there certainly are those people.  But why should a woman be viewed as less than just based on her gender? It has never felt right.

I'll be the first to admit I didn't jump on board with the Ordain Women movement. I could see the allure, but it wasn't for me.  Over the last couple of years I've begun to see the allure. I can't see convincing an organization as large as the LDS Church to change its belief patterns...at least not any quicker than the Blacks and the Priesthood issue. It may change in my lifetime, but I just don't see it happening. The church is too steeped in its patriarchal views. This saddens my heart. Because with equality comes power...the circle needs to be created.

I sat in a circle this morning with the most beautiful and talented women I've had the opportunity to meet. We joined in a prayer to the divine female deity.  My prayer was "Divine Womb, form us, shape us, birth us into being." These words are imprinted on my soul. I will carry these words with me wherever I may go.

May the peace of the Divine Mother dwell within  you all.

Becoming a wife in Zion

It seems odd to write this post today as it would have been my 22nd anniversary. Years where I'm feeling particularly snarky I will text my ex and tell him "Happy Anniversary!" This has not happened since I met my current husband. Nor do I feel the loss I once felt every time this date rolled around.

As stated, 22 years ago I entered the life of a Mormon housewife. This was not completely willing on my part. Being we already had an infant, I felt very pushed by 'his' family and 'him' to get married ASAP. Just minutes before I was to be married my mom offered me the car keys and said I could leave and she wouldn't care that they were out the cost. I nearly took her up on it. Only my kids remind me of the blessings that came from the marriage. I hesitated to say yes during the ceremony. Somehow I knew my life was not going to be the fairy-tale I'd always dreamed to would be.

Married at 19 wasn't exactly what I had wanted. Nor already being a mom. 'He' is the reason I did not give up my oldest. I didn't want 'him' to raise her. My oldest sister and her husband had approached me to adopt my baby and I felt that it was what needed to be done. 'He' asserted his priesthood authority and stated that as the priesthood holder he knew we HAD to get married and raise the baby as a family. So getting married was my second choice. Yes, my daughter is well aware of all this. We've spoken about it many times. She knows that I love her and just wish I could have done better by her, but I will never regret her in my life.

A couple weeks after marriage we moved into our first apartment. Shortly thereafter we had the bishopric and relief society presidency visit us. The look of shock on their faces when they found out we had just gotten married made me feel ashamed. We vowed to attend church on a regular basis. My grandma-in-law was in our ward. A sweet, little Danish woman who taught me the meaning of unconditional love. She didn't always understand why people acted the way they did, but she loved nonetheless.

Shortly after we began attending our ward (newlyweds or nearly deads because of the ages of most ward members) I was called to teach in Primary. Last time I had been in Primary I was a Merry Miss B (11yo). I had absolutely no clue what I was doing and I had one child in my class. I was quickly clumped together with all the other newlywed women and young moms. I was utterly lost yet treated as if I should have it altogether.

Then came homemaking nights. Talk about a night designed to make a young wife and mother feel like a failure. I had a pretty organized home, but was quickly becoming depressed. I couldn't measure up to these people. There was no way I could do everything they seemed to expect me to do. I just was not hardwired to pander to a man. When I asked an older woman what she would do if her husband just dumped his stuff throughout the house after coming home from work I was met with a bewildered look. She said a good wife picks up the mess and keeps the home tidy. So I asked a few more women and was told the same thing. Then I asked my married sisters. They said to pick it up but put it in a box and at the end of the week tell him to take care of it or you'd through his crap out. That didn't go over well at all and led to a late night physical confrontation which left me bruised and scared. I knew I needed to do what he said or I'd be hurt. Funny thing is, there was only one physical altercation after this in which I stood up to him and they never happened again. I guess me threatening him with my older brothers was a good thing.

My dinners always seemed to have something wrong with them. I'd try to include him in menu planning to which he'd tell me what ever I fixed he'd be happy with. Yet he never really was. I was constantly hearing about how I could make a dish taste good next time I fixed it. Truly disheartening.

Then I had a meeting with the bishop...PPI (aka personal priesthood interview)...something I'd never truly participated in before. When I spoke of some of my frustrations with marriage I was told it was my 'wifely duty' to attend to my husband in every area. It was not his job to help with housework or child-rearing unless I was in the  hospital having just given birth to a new child. I was devastated to learn that I had to completely give up me to cater to him.

It was during this time that I was also dealing with a mother-in-law who hated me. She felt I had 'ruined' her precious son by getting pregnant and preventing him from serving a mission. Like it doesn't take two to tango. But she also expected me to take care of her son in the way she took care of her husband. By catering and giving in to him.

Then the flu hit our household. Thankfully the baby really didn't get sick. The husband did and he was difficult to deal with during it. Just as he got better I became sick. He was upset that I wasn't fixing dinner for him or getting up to prepare his breakfast in the morning. I felt like death. One morning I did get up early enough to take him to work and drove myself and our daughter to my parents house. I was supposed to be working on laundry. My mom took one look at me and told me I needed to be seen by a doctor. She worked on my laundry and took care of my daughter while I went to the doctor. I had a severe sinus infection and strep throat. When I returned to my mom's she called my husband and let him know he'd need to find a way to their house to take me and the baby home. She also told him how sick I was. That night, once we got home, I was told how humiliating it was to have my mom call him and tell him how to take care of me. He said he had plans that night and I'd have to figure it out myself. So I did...all to keep the peace...and in being the good Mormon housewife I was being told by the church to be. I was down for nearly a week with something that I could've been over with much quicker if I'd been "allowed" to rest like was needed.

I realize that I must sound bitter. I'm really not. It's just the experience. It taught me a lot, in retrospect, for the time in which I became a single mom. When no one was there to really help out yet things had to be done.

This all took place in just the first 6 months of marriage. I knew I had entered the 7th level of hell...and was too scared to run the other direction for fear of punishment from my bishop. I definitely had, in that short amount of time, developed a fear of the patriarchy and this was to set me on a very dangerous course for the next 10 years.