A need for compassion

The Mormon social media world has been abuzz the last few days with blog posts and articles and shared opinions on all sides about Kate Kelly (the founder of Ordain Women) and her disciplinary council that took place yesterday. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, a) you must have been watching the World Cup instead, b) lucky you, and c) just google it and you'll get plenty of info if you care to know.) I know that no one really needs one more essay on this subject, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for a few days and so I am going to unburden my mind and add my words to mix. 

So.

This is what I want to say: 

The whole thing breaks my heart. 

Not because I particularly support Ordain Women or Kate Kelly or have gender inequality arguments to champion (those issues are a separate discussion for another day). Not because I have doubts or questions or am struggling to feel accepted or heard and feel threatened by the situation. And not because of the PR damage that's being done by the publicity of it all, though that certainly makes me wince.

No, it breaks my heart because I believe in the goodness of people, especially the people of my church. I believe in their earnestness, their honest desires, and their faithful struggles. I believe that we are all - and I mean all - trying to do our best with good and honorable intentions. And right now, I see lines being drawn all around, and there are good people on both sides. But those lines are incredibly divisive and as soon as they are drawn, people stop listening and trying to understand. The lines create the illusion of an "us" and "them," but in reality, it's just "us": good people who are getting their hearts broken on every side.

I have been thinking about this beautiful definition and explanation of compassion given by Brene Brown (whom I absolutely admire and adore, fyi). This is what she says:

"I don’t believe that compassion is our default response. I think our first response to pain—ours or someone else’s—is to self-protect. We protect ourselves by looking for someone or something to blame. Or sometimes we shield ourselves by turning to judgment or by immediately going into fix-it mode."

Then she goes on to quote another writer, Pema Chodron: 

"In cultivating compassion we draw from the wholeness of our experience—our suffering, our empathy... Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals. Only when we know our own darkness well can we be present with the darkness of others. Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity."

Where there are so many who are feeling hurt, wounded, angry, bitter, self-righteous, critical, defensive, and persecuted, I see such a need for some of this compassion. For reaching into our dark moments to sit with those who are in their own darkness right now. Like I said, I don't struggle with gender inequality issues within the church, but I know what it is like to feel out of place and alone, to feel that my concerns or opinions are being dismissed or belittled. I know what it is like to feel misunderstood and misjudged, and I hurt for those who are feeling it now. It's not a question of who is right or wrong, and arguing those points isn't going to help. Trying to cheer up or reason with those who are hurting isn't going to help. But sitting with them as they wade through their pain will keep those lines in the sand from forming deeper rifts.

I believe in "us" as a church membership and community, in our strengths and shared stories. I believe in the gospel of Jesus Christ and in the men called to lead the Church. I believe that I don't know all the details and that I don't have a right to pass judgment (especially where something as sensitive as a disciplinary council, which really shouldn't be publicized in the first place, is concerned). I trust my Heavenly Father to know the hearts of all his people. I also trust people to make mistakes, to have prejudices and misunderstandings, to try and fail, and to always always try again. I know this is not the first time, nor will it be the last time, that something divides us, but I truly hope that our compassion can bridge the lines that form and provide a safe landing for all our broken hearts.

Update: After I posted this last night, I realized there were a few things I wanted to clarify. First to say that there is a lot more that could be said about the specifics of the Kate Kelly and John Dehlin situations. I chose not to go into any of that here but I'd love to discuss it if anyone has something they want to say. Second, while showing compassion is not about who is right or wrong, there are rights and wrongs in this situation. I am having a hard time because I can understand both sides, but understanding doesn't compromise where I stand or what I believe. And while I don't feel like I can pass judgment, I do have opinions based on what I've read and my perception of events, but I thought that touching on those opinions might overshadow what I really wanted to say. So. There's that. 

Just some photos

Nothing too exciting, just some cute pics of what we've been up to lately:

Grandma Great (my mom's mom) and Georgie at Grandma's 86th birthday celebration. Their matching expressions in the first photo just kill me!

Naptime!

Sister love! These two pictures pretty much sum up the relationship at this point. Georgie loves Rosie and Rosie tolerates Georgie's hugs and prods pretty well. I can't wait for them to be friends!

Georgie really really really loves her special blanket, or "bee-lah." She was delighted to wear it for a few minutes.

Georgie is very into coloring right now and lives for when I let her use markers.

And that's life lately!

Today I am two months old

Today I am two months old. I love to smile, coo, and even laugh. I'm pretty ticklish already. I am definitely a happy baby!

I am growing like crazy - 23 inches long and 10 lbs 11 oz at last week's appointment. That's 3 inches and 3 lbs bigger than when I was born. I am definitely a good eater! Everyone loves my baby chub cheeks.

I'm pretty good at sleeping most days and nights. Mama wishes I would sleep in longer stretches but I like eating too much to do that yet. I have some reflux going on but between my medicine and Mama avoiding anything that could upset my tummy, I'm doing okay. Sometimes I fall asleep during tummy time and sleep for hours (as long as Mama or Daddy is close by to keep an eye on me).

I still have brown hair but the roots are growing in blonde - stay tuned! No matter what we do to my hair, it ends up sticking up and out. And my eyes are currently a deep beautiful blue.

I'm a pretty chill baby but I don't like to be left alone. So long as someone else is around, I'm fine to sit in my car seat or swing or even just chill out on the couch for awhile. I don't like it when my big sister tries to poke my eyes or mouth, though. That makes me mad. Other than that, we get along pretty well so far. I love my Mama and Daddy and make them super happy!

Life between the everything else

I have a baby and a toddler, and that's pretty much my whole life right now. But in between changing diapers and making sure everyone is fed, some other stuff has happened in the last few weeks:

1. We bought a car! We're officially grown ups because we not only bought a car for the first time (buying my dad's car doesn't count), but also it's a minivan. I call her Bessie. We love how much space we have and feel like she's the fifth member of our family.

2. We got new couches! Mom found these at a yard sale and scooped them up for us. We absolutely love them! Our blue couch was good enough, but these are like, real couches that look nice, even used. Thanks again Mom!

3. Graduation for our brothers. Tim's brother Scott graduated from UVU and my brother Ethan graduated from the U of U on the same day at almost the exact same time. What are the chances? I went to Ethan's graduation (with both girls - it was a loooong day) so I don't have pics from the other, but we were (and are) so incredibly proud of all their hard work. I know a lot of people find the graduation ceremonies boring and/or pointless, but I'm a strong believer that everyone should take the time to celebrate and honor all the hours and work that goes into achieving that diploma.

4. Rosie's blessing. Since Tim's parents were here from California for Scott's graduation, we also blessed Rosie that same weekend. It made for a very busy weekend but we were so happy to have all our family there to support Rosie. She was an absolute doll all day, plus Tim gave her a beautiful blessing and we had the perfect weather for our outdoor gathering after the meeting.

Our Maryon family. (We did take a Herrick family photo but I don't have a copy yet!)

I couldn't resist adding this darling photo - could she be any cuter??

5. Mother's Day. We forgot to take a picture of our little family on Rosie's blessing day so we recreated the moment (complete with the same outfits because I'm weird like that) on Mother's Day. It was a lovely day: we went to church with my mom, had a delicious lunch, I got to take a nap, and there was a lot of chocolate involved. Including this chocolate shoe from my mom - how fun is that? (There were also two throwing up incidents - one of which soaked me - and a blowout diaper, a super soggy diaper, and plenty of tantrums. Mother's Day to its very fullest!)

While I'm on the subject, and all sappiness intended, I just wanted to say how much being a mother means to me. I am "in the trenches," so to speak, as so many of my friends are - getting up at night, wiping noses, changing diapers, fielding tantrums, trying to love and teach and nurture without going crazy, and it's hard work. But these two little girls are so incredible and so precious to me. I love saying "the girls" or "my girls" more than is reasonable. And that's what being a mother is - loving and giving and sacrificing more than is reasonable. Everyday makes me more and more grateful for what my mom gave and sacrificed and I truly hope someday my girls will be able to say the same thing.

18 (and 1) months old

I wanted to do an all things Georgie at 18 months post but since she turned 18 months just five days after I had a baby, it didn't happen. So she is technically 19 months old, but we're going to pretend this is her 18 month post.

"Say 'cheese'!" and it actually works!

Georgie talks. Constantly. Most of it unintelligible until I connect her sounds with something she's pointing at and realize she's a lot closer to imitating words than I frequently realize. She's even starting to put words together in really basic sentences. Her recognizable vocabulary is easily in the three dozen word range and grows daily. She is very good and imitating the first sound of a word but then she babbles the rest - "music" has become "mu-nee" and her special blanket is her "bee-lah", etc. Her favorite word is "no" but she is catching on to "yes" now too. She loves to open books (any book) and "read" it, complete with inflection and occasionally fake laughter.

A reading action shot with the TV on in the background. Yes, I let my kid watch movies, but not all day and almost all Disney, so, you know, there's that. It could be worse?

Georgie has been very attached to people since Rosie was born (not surprisingly). She does a roll call of sorts multiple times a day: "Mama? Dada? Nana? Rah-rah? Eeee-ah?" (Me, Tim, my mom, my sister Rachel, my brother Ethan.) She frequently just says "Mama" over and over and over again, to which I reply, "Yes Georgie?" over and over and over again. We are definitely in a repetition phase. 

Everyone asks how Georgie is with the new baby and she is a very loving big sister. Sometimes she loves a little too hard and sometimes she gets frustrated and melts down when I can't hold her or help her, but for the most part, she's been great. She has a baby doll who she likes to diaper, feed (today she tried to shove tortilla chips into the doll's mouth), burp, swaddle, etc. The one that makes me laugh is when she tried to use the bulb syringe to suction out the doll's nose. She is very, very observant.

I was taking pictures of Rosie and Georgie wanted in on the action. This is a fairly typical lunch - cereal, raisins, pear and apple slices, and apple juice. Notice that most of it is untouched.

Georgie still doesn't eat, or at least not consistently. Some days, all she does is ask for food. Most days, I give her a variety of options and she picks at them. Her favorites (aka foods that she'll always eat) are Ranch dressing, peanut butter, popcorn, Ramen noodles, bacon, apple juice, and "no-nee" (candy). Some of the foods she'll pick at when she's in the mood are scrambled eggs, toast, apples, raisins, cereal, chicken, olives, cheese, lunch meat, hot dogs, and whatever Tim and I are eating. She loves "ahssss" (ice), asks for it with almost every meal, and will eat two full Pedialyte popsicles in a day if I let her.

Georgie loves music, videos, and dancing. Music of any kind catches her attention and prompts some amazing dancing when she's in the mood. (See the videos below.) Her favorite song is the theme song from the show Psych (the link is a compilation video that I frequently pull up for Georgie) and requests "I know, I know" multiple times a day. Her other favorite is "Popcorn Popping on the Apricot Tree" and she knows all the actions and even some of the words. 

Other things Georgie loves: coloring, going outside (nothing beats going to the park for her!), knocking on doors, tickling, climbing on everything, watching videos on my iPod (mostly Sesame Street and the songs from Tangled and Frozen), and taking a bath. She likes to help me by 1) putting things in the garbage can when I ask her to, 2) pushing the vacuum when I get it out, and 3) putting clothes (and occasionally other things, like toys or food) in the dryer when I do laundry. The other day she put away some of her clean clothes all by herself, without my asking; she also tried to throw away the clothes I asked her to put in the dirty laundry bag. She likes to wave to people leave from our front room window and she's very good at saying "bye bye" and blowing kisses - she even does it when she leaves a room. She knows all her body parts and hasn't gotten tired of being quizzed on them yet. She's still initially shy around new people and situations but she usually warms up pretty quickly. 

Georgie is energetic and playful, serious and observant, sweet and loving, capable of adorable gestures and gigantic tantrums (sometimes in the same minute), sensitive to changes, and insistently determined until distracted by something better. In other words, she's an 18 month old version of our Georgie girl.

Not the best selfie but I love A) how Georgie is looking sideways at me, B) her crooked smile, and C) that our hair is exactly the same color. She's definitely mine.

One month already

Our darling Rosie is a month old already and we love her more and more. She's already giving us the most mischievous smiles and sideways glances that tell me she's got so much personality to share. She eats like a champ and is consequently growing like a weed (she's already up to 9 lbs!), and best of all, she sometimes sleeps! She even slept for a full 5 1/2 hour stretch last night, which Georgie didn't do until she was 3 months old. Her naps are a little sporadic but she'll generally take two or three long naps during the day. That being said, she also likes to be awake, sometimes for ridiculously long stretches. I'm talking two or occasionally even three hours at a time. She is mostly a content baby, especially if she's being held, but definitely and loudly lets us know when something is amiss - this one's already got opinions for sure.

This month has been hard, but not more than we expected and I feel like it's ending on a good note. Figuring out the emotional and physical logistics of how to feed, change, put to sleep, and positively interact with two littles and take care of myself and hopefully have something left to give Tim is the daily, and sometimes insurmountable, challenge with the second child. I've battled lots of mama guilt over losing my patience with Georgie and lots of worry that I'm not holding/cuddling/interacting with Rosie enough. Some days it's been too much, especially after particularly rough nights, and my emotions have been very raw as a consequence. But every time this month got too hard, I reminded myself that things would be different in a day, a week, two weeks. We are moving forward and all I have to do is take it one day and one night at a time. 

And here we are and now I can look back at the last four weeks and say it wasn't so bad. Overall, my recovery was easy and nursing has been pretty straightforward, plus the girls' naps generally overlap for a little while in the afternoons so I can get a little extra rest. I remember that with Georgie, that first month was a constant struggle (see my post about it here) emotionally and physically, and while I've done my fair share of crying (thank you, postpartum hormones) and feeling physically spent, at the end of month one I am feeling almost...capable. Normal. Way less anxious than last time. We still have a long way to go and things will be different in a month - not better, just different - so I am just going to enjoy this feeling while it lasts.

Methinks these two are sisters. What do you think?

How she got here - Rosie's birth story

I've rewritten this post over and over as I've oscillated between wanting to honestly share my experience of Rosie's birth and worrying about over sharing. But one of the things I have learned about myself recently is that I am not very good at being open with my emotions, especially in the last few months while I've had some hard emotions to handle. But that's another subject; the point is, this is going to be relatively long and detailed, so if you prefer to skip to the photos, I don't blame you. 

For Rosie's birth, I wanted to have the natural birth experience I didn't get to have with Georgie, and to do that, I really needed to go into labor on my own. Being induced again was my biggest concern and even though I knew that 2nd babies usually come a little earlier and faster, I was still worried about it. I also really wanted the midwife who delivered Georgie to be there but she was out of the country for most of March so I knew that probably wouldn't happen. At the beginning of March, I did everything I could to get my labor going (pineapple, walking stairs, heartburn-inducing food, hypnosis tracks, etc.) but to no avail and we missed our window for my midwife Dena to be there. At my last appointment with her, I wasn't even progressed far enough for her to strip my membranes - super disappointing. Anxiety reigned supreme during the first two weeks of March as I waited for any signs that it was baby time. Once we passed my due date, my anxiety lessened considerably. I wasn't surprised to go late again and it meant that one way or the other, I would have a baby soon. 

A few days after my due date, I was able to have my membranes stripped at my appointment and that night, I started having some good contractions - finally! They continued the next day, slowed down the next, and stopped altogether the day after that. Super disappointing, again. As per medical standards, we went to the hospital the next day (Friday) for a stress test and ultrasound to make sure the baby was okay. We weren't worried; for us, after doing that twice with Georgie, it was just business as usual. And everything was fine (though every person we talked to was pretty insensitive to the whole natural birth/no induction thing) and I asked the nurse to check me. No progress but she did a "very thorough check" (aka stripped my membranes again) so we left hopeful that we'd have a baby that weekend. And on the up side, our other favorite midwife was on call all weekend and Dena would be back in the country on Monday, so we didn't have to worry about running into the midwife we didn't like.

The rest of Friday was very laid back - Tim took the day off, his mom was in town so we got to hang out with her, and my mom came over for dinner. I had no contractions at all but by the end of the day, I was aching down my legs and back and just didn't feel good. We went to bed at our usual late hour and I remember telling Tim that I felt really hopeful that having a newborn would be better this time around, especially with the warmer weather coming and living in an apartment above the ground with lots of light.

I woke up about 1:30 with strong contractions that were about 10 minutes apart. I tried to go back to sleep but around 2:00, I gave up and got up, cautiously excited that this might be it. By 3:00 the contractions were 5-6 minutes apart, so I woke up Tim just to let him know but told him to go back to sleep if he could. About five minutes later I decided I needed Tim to help me through the contractions and he got up. I got in the bath and Tim timed the contractions; by 4:00 they were 2-3 minutes apart and we decided it was time to head to the hospital. We called Tim's mom to come over and stay with Georgie and called my mom and best friend/doula Natalie to meet us at the hospital. We got there around 4:30 (the fourth couple in an hour to come in), got checked in, and when I was checked, I was at a 5+. We didn't get into our room until 5:30 but we got one of the biggest rooms that was also further away from the noisy areas. (Contrast that to my first delivery in a very small room that was directly next to the nurses' station, and this room seemed amazing!)

The rest of the labor is a bit blurry in my mind. I remember moments, things I said, things other people said. I remember small details but the overall progression of the morning feels very dreamlike to me. I was on my birthing ball for awhile, then I stood for a bit, then I ended up kneeling on the bed and bracing myself against the back. I tried listening to one of my Hypnobabies tracks but it got annoying (we had some jokes going about some of the things on there) so I switched to my compilation of calming songs from my BYU Women's Chorus choir CDs. Natalie talked me through the contractions, especially as they got harder and lower and "pushy", and Natalie, Tim, and my mom took turns giving counter pressure and holding my hands. The nurse offered to check me but at that point, the thought of changing positions was overwhelming, so we waited. I remember getting through some of those harder, pushy contractions and feeling confident, even empowered to realize that I was doing it and getting through it.

By the time Sue came in, I was losing steam. She checked me and I was at an 8; she suggested breaking my water in order to get things to finish and I agreed. The next contraction after breaking my water was so much stronger without that cushion that I started to panic about getting through the rest. There were about 20 more minutes of transition, which I got through on the back of the bed, and then about 20 minutes or so of pushing. I was very embarrassed to find myself getting through the contractions and pushing urges very loudly, but everyone assured me that I was doing great. 

Looking back, I think it was the feeling of being totally out of control that overwhelmed me the most. Everything was so intense and I really lost my ability to be logical for awhile there. I remember screaming, essentially, into the back of the bed for a couple of contractions, and I remember Natalie having to verbally slap me back to myself (aka she spoke sharply enough that it got my attention and she could help me calm down). I remember thinking several times about asking for an epidural but I never said it out loud, so no one knew how much I was thinking about it! Pushing was almost a relief, especially because there was a break in between contractions.

Rosie was born at 8:48 am and as soon as she was out and I was done, it was like my body just quit. I don't think I've ever been so exhausted and wiped out so immediately. I actually couldn't process what people were saying to me for a minute, I was so spent. Rosie was very purple upon arrival but she pinked up quickly, cried loudly, and had good Apgar scores. I loved holding her for those first few minutes but I didn't mind handing her over to be cleaned up so I could just be exhausted. 

Getting me stitched and cleaned up took a long time so it was actually quite awhile before I got to hold Rosie again, but after she was bundled up and handed over to her daddy, she quit crying and just looked around and around. She was just awake and alert and totally calm for hours after her birth - I couldn't believe how calm she was.

Several people have asked how this unmedicated birth compares to a medicated one. One person even asked me just a few hours after Rosie was born when I was still beyond exhausted and I was like, "Well, at this point, I'm never having another baby again, so...." But in all honesty, there are pros and cons to both. Unmedicated was more exhausting and more draining, both physically and emotionally. The pressure of the contractions and the pushing there at the end was so intense that I couldn't keep it all in, hence the screaming like a crazy woman (though I have been assured many times it wasn't nearly as loud as I think it was). But the recovery has seemed much easier this time and I really loved how alert Rosie was afterwards. I think part of what made it so hard was that once I had an epidural with Georgie, I slept until it was time to push and even though I could feel the pressure, there wasn't any of the pain. So this time, I didn't have a frame of reference for where I was in the process; I kept thinking I had to be almost done and then I'd realize I wasn't. It's like hiking and thinking you're almost to the top, only to get there and realize that was just one hill and the actual top of the mountain was still a steep, uphill climb away. And that was incredibly hard on me, emotionally and mentally. So would I do it again? I can't say yet, but I know that next time would be easier, if only because I would know what to expect with more accuracy.

Now for the pictures!