Pregnant at Christmas

Guys, there's something really special about being pregnant over Christmas time.

I've watched the new Christ Child Nativity video a few times now and am struck each time by the moment when Mary is sitting against the wall, beginning to go into labor. I see her discomfort and pain. I see the concern in her husband's eyes as he seeks a place for his wife to bring forth a miracle. I see her fall to the hard, dirty floor of the stable and the fear in her eyes as she contemplates the pain that she knows that she is about to endure. I see her gain strength from her husband as he reassures her that she can do this, because he has seen her be so incredibly strong already for the last nine months. I see the love in their eyes as they look at the newborn Jesus. In that moment, He isn't only the Son of God. He is their son.

I see myself.

I see my husband.

I see my son.

I think of Mary traveling miles and miles on a donkey led by Joseph. I think of the cross country trip that we just took. I struggled so much with exhaustion, nausea, and pain throughout our journey, so Jonathan had to do the vast majority of the driving. I try to imagine traveling on the back of a donkey instead of in a car and I simply can't fathom it. Every little bump in the road as we drove caused a spike of pain or nausea for me. I can only imagine the pain and discomfort that Mary must have felt through their journey. And I think of Joseph, exhausted both from walking and from worrying about his sweet pregnant wife. And then I think of Jonathan, driving hours and hours at a time and then reminding me that I was doing a good job after I drove for a single hour.

I picture the clean hospital where Liam will be born. And then I think of the stable where Christ was born. I picture the loving concern that Jonathan will have for me as I lay on a sanitized bed, preparing to go through the pain of pushing and the subsequent recovery. I can so clearly picture Jonathan reassuring me that I can do this, just as Joseph seems to tell Mary in the video. I am sure that Joseph wished that there was a better place for Mary to give birth. That he felt just a little bit helpless as he watched his young wife push, but didn't let it show.

I think of Mary and Joseph looking down at their little baby and reflecting on the incomprehensible potential that He had. As they thought of the part that He was to play in Heavenly Father's great plan. I try to understand the mixed emotions that they must have had, looking down at their fragile little baby, but knowing the great things that He would accomplish in His lifetime. I wonder if they had any idea then of the suffering that their child would endure.

I think of looking at my own little baby boy in a few months. He will not be the Savior of the World, but his potential is also great. He will also bless the lives of many. He will also suffer much. It is sometimes so hard to picture our little baby going through life, learning, growing, helping, and hurting. But other times it is only too easy to picture the joy that he will bring to us and those around him. To imagine the moments that he will light up our lives when we struggle.

Mine and Mary's situations are vastly different. But there are still many similarities. I may not have traveled by donkey, but I have suffered much through this pregnancy and move and have faced much uncertainty. I have felt much of the same sorts of pain and discomfort that she would have felt. I, too, have a husband who loves and supports me through my pregnancy.

I may not be the mother of the Son of God, but I am the mother of one of His sons.

This Christmas season as I reflect upon the birth of Christ, I can't help but continually think of my own son. I am so grateful that Heavenly Father is entrusting one of His beloved children into our care. I am humbled to have the opportunity to hold a sliver of divinity within me and to have the opportunity to help shape and guide this precious child into a righteous saint.

Liam is my son. But he is first and foremost HIS son.

Becoming a mother (though I have not yet given birth), is an incredible experience, but also a little bit scary. I feel a great sense of responsibility on my shoulders to raise my son to the light and help him to want to make good choices in his life. And so I am eternally grateful to know that I am not in this alone. That Heavenly Father is with me and that He already sent His Only Begotten down to earth to pave the way for my son. Because of the babe in the manger, my own babe has every opportunity for growth and joy available to him.

I hope that we can all remember why we celebrate this time of year. That we all remember a young mother, her devoted husband, and their precious son who was born, lived, suffered, and died for us.

Merry Christmas everyone!


PS- I saw this song on Facebook and listening to it made my pregnant, mommy-heart cry as I again related Mary and her Son to myself and mine <3

PPS- I've always loved this picture of Joseph caring for baby Jesus as Mary sleeps. Sometimes I think that we don't think about Joseph enough at this time of year. He would have suffered much through this journey as well, and he, too, had to have great faith in the Lord, just as Mary did.

Date Who You Want to Raise, Be Who You Want to Raise

Ever since I got married, I've thought a lot about the type of example that my husband and I will set for our future children. Now that I'm pregnant, that thought has been on my mind even more and I've found that it all boils down to this:

Date who you want to raise, be who you want to raise.

Does your significant other treat you the way that you would want your child to be treated? Is the way that he/she makes you feel the way that you would ever want your child to feel? Do they treat you the way that you would want your child to treat another person? Especially one that they are supposed to love?

If the answer is no, then there are a couple of problems here. 1- YOU probably shouldn't be with that person, because if you wouldn't want someone else to be treated or treat someone the way that you are being treated, then you don't deserve to be treated that way either! 2- Your SO is who your child will be watching and learning from. If your SO treats you poorly, then your child will learn both that that is an acceptable way to treat someone and that it is an acceptable- or at least tolerable -way to be treated.

It's been really easy for me to pinpoint things about Jonathan that I'm concerned about our kids picking up because- surprise surprise -he's not a perfect person.

BUT. I have also been recognizing things within myself that I want to change because I don't want to teach them to my kids because guess what? I'm not a perfect person either.

And that is probably even more important than recognizing things in your SO. Sometimes in life, we end up in situations that are (or at least seem to be) inescapable. You can end up recognizing that you are in a bad situation, but not have a good out. And so you have to do the best with what you have.

Maybe you're married with kids to an abusive spouse, but you have no means to care for your children on your own, have no where to go, and/or are afraid that the legal system will let you down as it has let so many others down, leaving your children with the abuser without you there as a protection and buffer. In this case, you may not be able to separate your child from a bad example. But you can still set a good example for them.

Allow your children to see the imperfections. Teach them what to look out for, what is okay and what isn't. Help them to distinguish between acceptable and unacceptable behavior, even if the unacceptable behavior is in their own home.

Now I understand that this is easier said than done. You still live with the person and rely on them to a certain extent, or maybe you are separated and have partial custody of your child. I can see that this would be a difficult line to walk as you don't want to pit them against their parent, but also want them to be safe and well.

All I can say is that if you do your very best to be a good example, to show them how one person should treat another human being, then they at least will have the opportunity to discern for themselves what is right and what is wrong.

It is so important to be the person that you want your child to emulate. You, as their parent, are one of the people that they will spend the most time with in the formative years of their lives. If you want to raise a child that is kind to others, then you must be kind to others. If you want to raise a child that is patient in trials, then show them how to face trials with faith and hope.

If you are still in the phase of dating where you have an out (or even possibly in your marriage) and you find that the man or woman that you are with treats you or others in a way that you would never want your child to be treated or treat someone else, then get out now. Yes, people can change. Yes, growth and learning will occur in different stages of life. But you should never delve deeper into a relationship with someone that doesn't display acceptable traits right now.

I have found that it is often only too easy to allow ourselves to be mistreated. But if you look at your treatment of and from others through the lens of your (future) child, then you may get a more realistic view of how your love and emotions are being handled by someone else.

Don't allow yourself to be, or be with, a person that you would not want your child to learn from.

Date who you want to raise. Be who you want to raise.

Because they will be watching and learning from you every day of their lives.

For my husband and I, we are doing our best to recognize our faults and work on them so that we can be the best examples for our child that we can be. We support each other in this endeavor and do our best to be patient with each other's progress, slow as it may be at times. Neither of us are perfect right now, and we will not be in this life. But if our child can see us actively working on improving each day, then we will still be setting the kind of example that I want him to have.

Your child doesn't need you to be perfect. They need to see that you're not, but that you are willing to recognize that without wallowing in it and are willing to work on becoming better. If you were perfect, then your child would feel that they could never measure up to your example. Allow yourself to be imperfect. Then show your child what to do when a weakness is identified. That will be the best example of all.

It's not about being perfect or being with someone perfect. You don't have to be perfect to set a good example. You simply have to be trying your best. And that will be more than enough.

Some Things that I Know

Dear Baby,

It's your Mama here!

I don't know your name yet, or even which gender you are, but there are a few things that I do know;

I know that you're with me for a reason.

I know that I love you.

I know that I am bringing you into a scary world.

I know that I am bringing you into a wonderful world.

I know that you are going to change my life forever. You already have!

I know that life is going to be hard for you. Life always is.

I know that you are going to bless my life.

I know that I am going to bless yours.

I also know that we're going to get on each other's nerves sometimes. But I know that I'll love you anyway.

I know that your Daddy loves you.

I know that I want to soothe your fears when you are afraid.

I also know that I won't always be able to do that.

I know that Someone else can.

I know that He loves you.

I know that He will be there for you when I can't be.

I know that He will make up for what I lack.

I know that Daddy and I aren't parenting you alone.

I know that you have a set of perfect Parents, and a perfect Sibling, that will help raise you.

I know that life will be difficult, and scary, and sometimes seemingly impossible to handle.

But.

I know that you will never be alone.

I know that you will be watched over and protected.

I know that you will learn and grow.

I know that while Daddy and I aren't perfect, you do have a perfect Example.

I know that you will be okay.

I love you four sweetheart.

Love, Mommy


Ps- I wrote this earlier this week before we found out our baby's gender. I now know that we're having a baby boy!

Why Does She Get to Be Pregnant, But I Don't?

For those of you in my blog-o-sphere that don't already know, I'm pregnant!!! I'm about 15 weeks, due end of March/beginning of April. I've had a few tentative ideas for posts swirling around in my brain about pregnancy, but nothing has felt quite right yet.

Except for this one.

Oddly enough, this is one that I thought a lot about while we were trying to get pregnant, and may seem a bit odd to write about now that I actually am. But bear with me as I take a trip back to before my pregnancy.

I went off of birth control last October (Oct 2018) and we started trying to get pregnant. Not super avidly, I mean, I wasn't taking ovulation tests or keeping track of my basal temperature or anything, but we did keep an eye on my tentative ovulation date in my little period tracking app, but that was about it.

There were a couple of times where it seemed like I might be pregnant (late period, fatigue, extra nausea, etc) but wasn't. I took a couple of pregnancy tests each time and they were all negative, then I would start my period a couple of weeks later.

After about 8 months of trying, I still didn't get pregnant. My period had been kind of all over the place and I got to feeling worried/frustrated. I have quite a few friends that are struggling with infertility and I've read about some of the horrible things that they have been going through with fertility treatments, depression, etc. surrounding their fertility struggles.

I was becoming very afraid that that was my future. They say that once you've been trying for a year without success, that's when you should start looking into fertility issues. It had been over half of a year for me, so I was trying to brace myself for what might come.

And I started to think a lot about pregnancy and how unfair it seems to be. I thought about my friends that were struggling with fertility. People who would be bomb.com moms if they could only get pregnant. I also thought about all of the people that I know that have had miscarriages. Some one, some many. And then I thought about my friends who got pregnant while on birth control, who gladly welcomed their surprise, but weren't trying for it. And I thought about all of the women who get abortions because they didn't want to get pregnant, but didn't use protection and then wouldn't take responsibility for that decision. And I thought about the women who get pregnant because of sexual assault. And I came to the conclusion that this whole pregnancy roulette wheel is terribly unfair.

Why do those who are actively trying not to get pregnant end up with a baby?

Why do some women who have no respect for human life get pregnant at the drop of a hat, while those who desperately yearn for a child don't?

Why did people keep telling me "It's probably because you're so stressed. Stress messes with fertility" when girls who are raped (a highly stressful situation) get pregnant against their will?

Of course, there are also plenty of people who use protection and don't get pregnant, women who aren't responsible with sex but don't get pregnant, women who are raped and don't get pregnant, and also plenty of women who get pregnant as soon as they start trying.

But I still saw a huge disparity between those who want children and those who get them.

And it was frustrating.

And I know that everyone has agency and things happen for a reason and all of those things. And I reminded myself of those every time I started to get upset by the injustice that I felt. But those thoughts didn't dispel the feelings of hurt.

Now then, I feel a little bit awkward writing about all of this now that I am pregnant with my own child because I have all of those friends who are still in the midst of their infertility struggle. I know that I can't do justice to this topic when I haven't been through even a fraction of what they have, or what my friends that have had miscarriages and stillborns have.

But I wanted to voice the glimpse that I got and let all of you out there that are struggling- and fighting and suffering so that you can one day hold your own little baby in your arms -know that I see you. I might not know what to say or how to be a support. But I see you and I cheer you on from my couch and I often pray for you. I am amazed by you regularly. You are SO strong, whether you feel like it or not.

I don't know why some women get pregnant and others don't, but I do know that I have been inspired by many, many moms-in-waiting. Whether you have a baby or not, you're a mom to me. I see how hard you are fighting for your child. I see how much you love your babies that haven't come, or who left too soon. And I remember you when I am struggling with pregnancy symptoms. You remind me to be grateful that I have them, no matter how hard they can be.

And you continue to inspire me each and every day; all you moms with babies in your hearts, if not yet in your arms.

PS- I'm sure that I'll write more about my pregnancy later (hopefully soon), but this is the post that has come back to me the most and the one that needed to be written right now. Stay tuned!

The Sexiest Thing in the World

It is not self seeking

Before I dive in, let me reassure you right now that this isn't going to be like a magazine article that tells you how to be sexy or whatever. So please keep reading because this is important!

This is an odd topic for me to write about and probably a weird one for you to read about if you know me, but it's also a really vital one that (as with many of my posts) isn't talked about enough.

Too often, sex isn't taught about very well, so what we do end up learning about it comes from horrible examples in books, movies, pervy teenagers at school or work, or even pornography for many. Actually, a common start to pornography viewing, struggles, and addiction start with a lack of proper education from trusted adults about sex. I have talked to many who struggle who started out because they weren't taught well and didn't feel that they had someone that they could talk to about their questions, so they went searching for answers themselves and eventually ended up knee-deep in porn.

So yeah, this post deals with sex and that's awkward but it's important and I promise that this isn't explicit.

Cool?

Cool.

The sexiest thing about my husband is that we didn't have sex last night.

Let's go over some background info and then I'll explain what I mean.

Intimacy after abuse can be really rough at times. I've talked about this a bit in past posts just with snuggling and stuff, but I'm married now and am (still) learning to deal with the whole wide range of intimacy options that are now available to me.

I've talked before about how there have been times in the couple of relationships that I've had since my abusive ex that my boyfriend/fiance/husband has simply not been allowed to touch me. Sometimes for 20 minutes, sometimes for 2-3 HOURS. These times occurred because my ex (abusive ex, but if I say "ex", that's who I'm talking about unless I specify otherwise) took advantage of me physically, manipulated me into being more intimate than I felt even remotely okay with, and basically turned physicality of any form into a trigger for my PTSD.

My husband (Jonathan) knew this going into our relationship and into our marriage. We discussed every possibility for what could happen on our wedding night. We knew that there was a very real possibility that I would have a panic attack, so our plans included anything from simply sleeping in the same bed, fully clothed in sweats to going all the way like you always imagine for your wedding night. Our plan was basically to be ready for anything that might happen (even if that meant that one of us slept on the floor/couch of our Air BnB) and then just play it by ear. The important thing is that we were both on the same page with this. Jonathan constantly reassured me in the time leading up to our wedding that whatever happened was completely my choice, that I didn't have to do anything that I didn't feel comfortable with, and that he would rather we do nothing at all then do anything that made me anxious.

And that, my friends, is the sexiest thing in the world to me.

Having a choice.

And not just "technically" having a choice like I did with my ex. Because he didn't molest me. But he also did not make it feel safe and okay for me to say no either. He didn't help me to feel loved and important and like what I wanted or needed mattered. And so I had a choice, but not much of one.

No, I'm talking about 100% knowing and feeling deep down inside that my decision matters. That my husband would rather set aside his own physical pleasure than feel it at the expense of my well-being.

Last night we started to be intimate. I started to feel anxious, but as often happens, I decided to keep going and just hope that the feeling goes away (it never does, but I tend to do this anyway). Luckily, blessedly, my husband noticed. He could tell that something was off and all he had to say was "are you feeling anxious?" and I stopped trying. I told him yes and he just hugged me and loved me.

Now let me be clear; I didn't keep going because I was afraid of his reaction if I stopped. It was completely my actual decision to keep going. Possibly partially influenced by the abuse mindset that I'm still fighting, but not because I felt in any way that my husband would react the same way that my ex would. And that is honestly a miracle. The fact that I have complete trust in my husband to love and cherish me in the moments where I have to stop is HUGE.

The abuse mindset is a hard one to break, no matter how wonderful your current partner is. It doesn't matter that my husband has never given me reason to believe that he'll treat me like my ex did, I am still often afraid that he will. In so many other aspects of our lives, I still feel that fear. The fear that one of these times, something will change in Jonathan just as it seemed to in my ex. The fear that the abuse will start again in some way.

And yet that fear has never applied to physicality with my husband. That is the one aspect of our lives that seems to be immune to that fear. I know, truly, deeply know that I can always say no. I can always say "I need to stop." I never, ever need to be afraid of how Jonathan will react. He helps me to feel safe enough and loved enough to do what I need to do. And if that means that we stop and just cuddle, then okay. And if that means that we stop and he can't touch me for a while, then okay. And if that means that I say "no" or "not right now" and then go back to reading my book, then okay.

And THAT, my friends, is the sexiest thing about my husband. Because it means that when we are intimate, I know that there is love and respect involved. I know that my happiness and my well-being are a top priority. It means that I am safe, and secure, and so, so loved. And that is the best feeling in the world. Better than any physical pleasure.

The sexiest thing in the world is knowing that your partner cares about you enough to put you above sex.

And that sounds obvious to many of you I'm sure, but when you've been sexually abused, or when you've seen movies where sex is forced, or when you know that pornography often depicts fake, abusive sex and makes it look like the norm, then you realize that while obvious, it is not always as common as it absolutely should be.

Society teaches us that men can't control themselves. That once they start, there is no stopping. This is not true. It may be difficult or uncomfortable at times, but not impossible. Their brains and hearts don't cease to function when they are aroused.

Are men's bodies vastly different than women's? Heck to the yes. Is it true that men are generally aroused more easily and quickly? Sure. Does that mean that their bodies control them? NO WAY.

But that's what we're taught by the world around us.

My ex struggled with pornography addiction and used that as an excuse as to why he was sexually abusive. He actually made it my fault if we "went too far" with anything because he couldn't control himself, so it was up to me even though it felt as though I had zero say in the matter.

My husband is also a recovering addict, but he has never once used that as an excuse to do a single thing that I was not willing to do. And he is often the one that will notice when I'm having a hard time and remind me that it's totally okay to stop.

Don't believe that men can't control themselves. They are fully functioning, intelligent human beings and it's honestly insulting that we are led to believe that they literally can't stop themselves or that there comes a point where they are no longer accountable for what they do. Many men take advantage of that widely held belief. But the right man will prove every single one of them wrong.

The world teaches us that love is about sex. But I know that that is not true. Love isn't about sex. But sex is 100% about love.

My ex made me feel like his pleasure was more important than my peace of mind. My husband helps me to know that I am more important than his pleasure.

And that is downright sexy.

I Want to Learn, But Only if You're Nice About It

I wanted to share a neat experience that I just had!

Jonathan and I are trying to save up to move back to Rexburg in September, so we decided to sell a VR system that we got for free that's worth a few hundred dollars. I know absolutely nothing about VR, so did my best to find out how much this system costs so that I could price it accordingly.

Today a nice man messaged me and let me know that the price that I put for it was a bit steep. Not because he wanted it but didn't want to pay that much for it, but because he knows about the system and knew that the price that I found on Amazon was a bit high because this model is being phased out. He let me know that it'll probably be worth more in a few months because this system has better touch features (or something to that effect) than the new one does.

He told me what I should feature in my Facebook Marketplace ad to make it more likely to sell it.

My ad had zero effect on him and his life. He didn't need to help me out. There was no angle or ulterior motive. He just wanted to help me sell my item.

I appreciate this SO MUCH.

I feel like it's so common today for people to jump on anyone that knows less than them about something. Maybe it's vaccines or abortion, but sometimes people will jump down your throat about movies or other interests too.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. There are things that I definitely have opinions or preferences about, but don't know all of the facts/details about. I generally try to avoid posting about things that I know are controversial that I don't know enough about, but I still occasionally will if I feel that it's really important.

When I've done this, I've gotten two reactions. The first is people raging at me. But the second is people politely disagreeing with me and/or asking why I feel the way that I do. And then (this is the important part) they have a respectful conversation with me about how they feel as well as reliable sources to back their stance. They're not trying to get me to change my mind most of the time, but they recognize that they know more about the subject than I do and instead of belittling me, they help educate me in a kind manner.

I love those people so much.

I have had wonderful conversations with friends about vaccines, abortions, pornography, modesty, and religion where we had differing points of view, but could talk about it from a place of wanting to understand rather than wanting to convince. And that makes all the difference to me. The moment someone starts getting overly defensive and taking things out of context is the moment that I stop really caring much about the conversation.

I'm the type of person that actually likes to learn more if I find that my perspective is skewed. And even if I still disagree with you, I love having a better understanding of why people feel so differently from me. I love being able to see both sides of a story and understand why there is more than one side. This has enabled me to make and maintain friendships with people from all different walks of life.

I don't mind if you disagree with me, but I do care if you're civil about it or not. Neither fact nor opinion should ever come as an attack.

Knowledge is power. But not the power to hold yourself higher than others and leer over them. It is the power to be a guiding hand. To lift others to greater wisdom and understanding rather than crush them under the weight of "I know more than you."

What happened today was a less crucial topic than any mentioned above, but still could have gone very differently. This man could have made me feel stupid about my ad or else had a clear selfish motive. But he didn't. A complete stranger reached out to me to help me be more likely to sell the item. He didn't have to do that, but he did. And he did it in a way that helped me learn instead of just making me feel dumb.

People like him give me faith in humanity.

It seems to be increasingly more common to see people as targets than as human beings. To see the other side as an enemy instead of simply different.

I think that we would live in a very different world if we remembered that different doesn't usually mean bad. And not only that, but that there is beauty in diversity because it brings on new ideas and advancements that wouldn't happen if everyone saw the world the same way.

So thank you random citizen for reminding me that there are still people out there who are willing to look out for a perfect stranger and that there is still a difference between teaching and demeaning in this world.

Ps- Shout out to my best friend Austin for proofreading all of my posts! He's the real hero here

Land of the Free?

At first glance it looks like they're holding hands,
but a closer look paints a more accurate picture.

I love the Fourth of July, but I struggled to celebrate our country's freedom yesterday while knowing that there are people in our beloved United States who came here seeking freedom and found only greater hardship and despair.

I'm talking about immigrants.

This country was founded by immigrants. People sailed across the sea seeking a land where they could be free to live and believe the way that they wanted to. Men and women have fought and died over generations to secure and maintain this freedom. And yet we seem to have forgotten so easily why we fight and what we fight for.

There are people from other countries that are fleeing from deplorable situations and coming here to seek refuge. Who come here because this is the "land of the free" where every human being has a right to "the pursuit of happiness". They come here looking for a place to live and believe the way that they want to. They're not only looking for religious freedom and new lands to explore, but for a place to be safe and raise their families. And yet they seem to have fled from one terrible situation to another. They arrive here with hope that is soon dashed to pieces as their families are ripped apart and they are placed in depressing conditions without some of the most basic necessities.

Don't get me wrong, I love America. I am so incredibly grateful to have grown up in a free land. But I am learning that my freedom seems to only be dependent upon me being born here, not upon the principles that this country is supposed to be based upon.

I absolutely think that there should be rules and regulations in place to help immigrants transition to life here. But "help" is the operative word there. If someone comes here with a desire for a better life and a willingness to work hard for it, then why should we inhibit that?

I understand that there are those who would mooch off of the government or come here for nefarious purposes (drug or sex trafficking among them). And there should be rules put into place for those instances. But there are also American-born citizens who mooch off of the government and live despicable lives. So I don't think that all refugees and immigrants should be treated like scum because of the former.

I'll be the first to admit that I know very little about politics and government. I don't know or understand all of the issues surrounding immigration. But I do know that I live in a land that takes pride in its freedom. And so I don't understand how we can proclaim freedom from the rooftops and then strip freedom away from others in the shadows.

I love the United States and everything that it stands for, but I don't feel that many of the practices being enacted at this time are in line with those standards.

So now that the celebrations are winding down, I ask you to consider what we just celebrated and ask yourself if you can honestly say that this is the land of the free.


PS- Here is an article from the Washington Post that talks about the horrible conditions that migrant detainees are being held in.

PPS- My brother has a blog and he's written quite a bit about the immigration issue lately. Check out some of his recent posts about it!

The Good American
Blood, Sweat, and Tears
Love Thy Neighbor
Let's Just Tear Down the Statue of Liberty!

Love the Mother, Love the Child

This won't get posted until tomorrow, but today is Father's Day and I've had something on my mind a lot today.

I have a super fantastic father. He's not perfect, he has his flaws, but he's a freaking amazing dad.

Not everyone is as lucky as I am though.

One thing about me being so open about my life experiences is that it has allowed many others to be open about their's with me. I am so honored each and every time someone reaches out to me in trust and tells me the hard things about their lives. But it has opened my eyes a lot to just how crappy people can be and just how often that that is the case.

My mom read this Facebook post out to me earlier from a friend's wall:

HAPPY FATHERS DAY TO MEN EVERYWHERE WHO UNDERSTAND THAT FATHERHOOD STARTS WITH HOW HE TREATS THEIR MOTHER

That post hit me hard, because it is such a simple, perfect sentiment that is incredibly needed.

I have seen firsthand (and heard countless other experiences about) how terrible people can be to those that they are supposed to love most while putting on a grand show for everyone else.

A man or woman can seem perfectly wonderful to every single person in their lives except for their spouse and children. It's sickening just how common this is. Quite a few of the people closest to me have experienced this with their own father/stepfathers and/or husbands and it breaks my heart every time that I think about it.

I was extremely blessed that things ended with my ex before we got married. But I am coming to appreciate even more how blessed I am that things ended not only before we got married, but before we got married and had children.

I talked to a friend recently that is going through a horrific divorce that told me that she's having to come to grips with the fact that her daughter is almost certainly going to be molested by her father growing up and there is very little that she can do about it. The court system is failing her as it has failed so many others in these situations. So all she can do is prepare for the eventuality as best as she can and do all that she can to prepare her child and educate both herself and her child about the matter.

I've talked to another friend who won't get a divorce because she's the only thing standing between her children and their father and she isn't willing to leave her kids unprotected. In the meantime, she's being treated like dirt and she lives with the knowledge that her kids are growing up watching their father be abusive to their mother, which will shape their future expectations and relationships. Let alone the abuse that the father dishes out to the children themselves.

Once there are kids involved, you can never fully be rid of an abusive spouse, even if you get divorced.

For me, it's in my power to never see or talk to my ex ever again. But if I had had a child with him, that wouldn't be the case.

These situations, as well as many others that I have learned about throughout my life, have shown me just how important it is for a father to love the mother of his children the right way. Because no woman should ever have to choose between being free of abuse herself and the safety and well being of her child.

I am grateful for my dad for so, SO many things, but one of the biggest ones is for how he loves my mom. My mom has a lot of health issues that can make life really difficult both for her and those around her at times, but I have never, ever heard my dad complain about her, say an unkind word to her, or treat her with anything but love and respect.

This has been important my whole life, but especially now that I am struggling so much more with my own mental and physical health so much.

My dad has shown me my whole life that there are good men out there that will love you the right way not only when you're on your A-game, but also when you're at your absolute worst. He taught me through his example that I don't ever stop deserving to be treated well, no matter how sorry or broken I feel that I am.

It's largely because of my dad that I had faith that there could be someone else after my ex that was actually good to me and for me. He gave me hope. And it's paid off because I have found someone that has the same incredible eternal perspective as my dad. I have found someone that treats me with the same love and respect with which my dad treats my mom.

So thank you to all of the dads out there that do it right. We need your examples more than ever. We need your love and support when the men in our own lives fall so drastically short. You good men may be the thread that a child or broken woman is holding on to. You make more of a difference than you could possibly know. Not by doing anything that would seem like a big deal to you, but simply by being genuinely good people.

Happy Father's Day to all of you good men out there. We need you.

PS- This is a video that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints put out quite a few years ago that fits this post really well.

When Weakness IS Strength

Today in church, a young man said the first sacrament prayer three times. He made little mistakes in the wording each time, but we continued after the third prayer. I can only imagine how embarrassing that might feel for a teenage boy to finish reciting the prayer only to get a shake of the head telling him to try again. But today, I am so grateful that he said it twice.

I noticed during that first prayer that there was a mistake, so was unsurprised when he started again after finishing. I didn't notice a mistake the second time, but he started once more after finishing. It wasn't until he said the prayer the third time that I really focused in on the meaning of the sacrament, Easter, and Christ's Atonement. It was then that I was filled with the love of God. I could feel how much He loves me: enough to send His Son to suffer unimaginable pain and die for me. I was filled with the Spirit in a way that I don't often feel, even at church. Through the rest of the sacrament portion of the meeting, I was able to really think about what Christ means to me in my life.

That third sacrament prayer set the tone for the whole meeting for me.

I couldn't stop tears from spilling over as I listened to a brother in my ward sing "Savior, Redeemer of My Soul" and thought of how much I need the redemptive power of Christ in my own life.

I felt a very personal connection with my Savior as I listened to one of the sister missionaries speak of a time when there will be no more sorrow or pain. And as she spoke of hope and promised that God would work miracles in my life, I felt the truth of her words and was reminded that I am not resigned to suffer from the effects of the past forever. I really will be healed of the pain that I have felt so deeply from the actions of another, because the actions of Christ enable me to do so.

As I sang "In Christ Alone" for the closing musical number in the choir, I was filled with hope, love, and joy as I thought about all that Christ has done, and will do, for me personally.

I often feel hopeless; so stuck in the situation that I have been in since my ex's arrest. But today, beginning with a few mistakes made by a teenage priesthood holder, I was again reassured that I have not been forgotten. That I have a Father in Heaven who loves me infinitely. That I have a Brother who suffered everything for me. That I absolutely will be healed someday. That miracles will be wrought in MY life. And I was reminded that mistakes aren't the end of the world. That weakness will not only be made into strength, but that it can be used as a strength right now.

That young man's weakness was made into strength for me. My weaknesses will be made into strengths someday. And in the meantime, maybe my weaknesses can be a strength to someone else. And maybe yours can be too.

Happy (late) Easter everyone!

What Else Is There?

My period tracker informed me that it's International Women's Day. And it reminded me of a Facebook status that I wrote a few years ago.

This is it:

So I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I figured that I'd take advantage of the last few minutes of international women's day to attempt to express it.

I'm skinnier than you, not prettier.

I don't like to talk about stuff like this because I don't like focusing on my body. But for years I've had so many people make comments about my size. I don't mind when people make jokes about it like commenting that if I turn to the side I'd disappear, or that I might blow away in the wind. I really don't. What bothers me is that everyone thinks that I'm the perfect size.

I am the perfect size. For me. And you're the perfect size for you. There's always room for improvement from a health aspect, but otherwise it's true.

When I get really sick it scares me because I don't have a lot of weight to lose. That could get dangerous really fast.

I'm almost always cold because "I don't have enough meat on my bones."

I struggle to find clothes that fit me because I'm so petite. 
"I wish that I had that problem."
No. You don't. 
Maybe you have a hard time finding clothes that fit because you're not petite. Both are real struggles and that's all there really is to it.

Just because I'm thin doesn't mean that I'm prettier, smarter, funnier, friendlier, or all around more attractive than you. The right person will find me attractive, but not because of my size. And the right person will find you attractive, but not because of YOUR size.

I don't know if any of this is making sense, but ladies, please stop comparing sizes. Mine to yours or yours to anyone else's. All sizes are beautiful in their own way just like all hair colors, clothing styles, or singing voices are.

You are beautiful because you look just like you. Skinny doesn't = pretty. That doesn't mean that I don't think that I'm pretty because I'm small. But it means that I don't think that you're not pretty if you're not. I'm comfortable with my size. But from where I'm standing I see so many beautiful women who aren't comfortable with theirs. Women who look at me and are jealous. Don't be. I don't notice your size. I didn't even notice that I was smaller than anyone else until you told me. Because IT DOESN'T MATTER. Not a bit.

#internationalwomensday #actuallyimisseditby4minutes #oops #sizedoesntmatter #YOUarebeautifuljustlikethat

I wrote about this a little bit in this post, but I wanted to talk about it some more.

I still believe that Facebook status. Not because I'm still really skinny, but because I'm not.

I currently weigh about 25 pounds more than I ever have before in my life and I hate it. I hate the way that it feels when my thighs rub when I walk. And I hate that that rubbing results in my pants becoming pilly really fast. I hate that some of my shirts chafe because the sleeves are just a bit too small. I hate that I can't wear most of my clothes anymore because they're too small. Or rather because I'm too big for them now. I hate that my face is rounder than it used to be. I hate trying on clothes that I know would have looked really good on me eight months ago. I hate not knowing why I gained 30-35 pounds in those eight months.

But you know what? I also hated being so skinny that the majority of clothes that I tried on were way too baggy. I hated not filling in cute bathing suits. I hated looking bony when I lost weight unexpectedly. I hated being freezing all the time. I hated people being jealous of how thin I was when they were perfectly beautiful as they were.

Bottom line?

There's always going to be something that you don't like about your body.

But there's also always going to be something that someone else loves about your body.

A friend of mine recently put up a picture on Instagram with a caption that revealed that she doesn't like her body. That she has always defined beauty by "a delicate frame and skinny long legs." And I messaged her about it. Because this is one of the people that I find myself constantly being jealous of.

This is part of what I said:

I'm being 100% honest here. You have no idea how many times I wished that I looked like you. I still do a lot of the time. I wish that I had your sweet dimpled smile and your ability to look good in every single picture I've ever seen of you. Including your blooper shots and silly pictures. I love your beautiful hair and how it looks just as good down as it does up in braids or in a simple ponytail. You have been a huge standard of beauty for me that I keep trying to get out of my head.

Her response?

That is literally so ironic because I have always envied your body so much!!

Funny how that works, huh?

I've seen quite a few posts from people lately where they've talked about how they have struggled with their self image. Some of them have posted pictures that they don't like of themselves. And you know what? They've all been people that I consider to be stunning. With or without makeup.

I loved what one of them said:

Everyone around sees you the way you are; they see your "bad angles", double chins, crooked smiles..whatever you think your flaws are. And you know what? THEY STILL LOVE YOU.

If you really think about it, everyone else knows what you look like better than you do.

They've seen you with mascara running down your face as you cry. They've seen every angle of your face without makeup, and they've seen the back of your head when your hair is in a greasy ponytail. They've seen your silly faces as well as your angry, sad, and excited ones. They've seen your shirt bunch up in an unflattering way and your skirt stick to your legs. They've possibly even seen the spot that you missed while shaving.

And you know what? They. Don't. Care.

The world has set impossible standards of beauty that make us feel like we're being judged at every turn. But in real life, most people don't care. Not only that, but they don't even notice!

When I look at people, I'm not checking to see if there is flab under their clothes. I'm not looking for zits on their faces. I'm not scouring their bodies for imperfections. And yet I act like that's what people are doing to me!

Getting ready for church on Sundays has been a huge frustration for me most weeks. It's the one day of the week that I really try to look nice. Where I generally live in sweatpants and t-shirts the rest of the week, I really do my best to look my best on Sunday. And right now, that sucks. Because most of my church clothes don't fit anymore. And I put makeup on and do my hair and my face just doesn't look right to me because I'm still more used to how my face looked with makeup before I gained weight. And so most Sundays I give up with a "Well, it is what it is. This is going to have to be good enough because there's nothing else I can do about it." And that's kind of the worst.

But honestly? The people at church don't care if my clothes don't fit quite right or my makeup isn't perfect. They don't care if my hair wouldn't do anything helpful today. Because when people look at me, that's not what they see. They see me. They see Anna Laulusa. And when I look at them? I see them. I don't pay attention to the detail that they probably put in that morning either.

Obviously I do have moments where I especially admire someone's hair that day or love their skirt, but I also don't have moments where I think "Hm, she looks ugly today. It was clearly not a good hair day for her" or "His shirt has a wrinkle in it. I can't believe he didn't iron it this morning." Because I'm not out to find people's flaws. And I think that we'd sometimes be surprised to realize that most people aren't.

And sometimes I do notice that someone's hair is out of place or that they have something in their teeth. And you know what I do about it? One of two things. 1- Tell them so that they can fix it (because I would absolutely want someone to tell me so that I don't keep walking around like that!) or 2- ignore it because it doesn't really matter and doesn't make me think any less of them.

What I'm trying to say here is that no one really cares that much what you look like on a regular basis. And the people that care about you think that you're beautiful no matter what. Because their standard for your beauty has very little to do with your weight, hair, or makeup. It has to do with the way that your eyes light up when you see them, and the way that your chin crinkles when you see something cute. It has to do with the way that your laugh make them feel, and the way that you look at them like they are beautiful.

To close, I wanted to direct you to an Instagram account that my sister told me about. It's @beauty_redefined. Their motto is "my body is an ornament, not an instrument" and I love that! Granted, my body isn't doing too well on either count at the moment, but that's beside the point! They talk about how beauty is about who we are, not how we look. They're all about breaking out of the fake beauty bubble of social media and recognizing that while the world tries to tell us that we're too fat or too thin or too short or too tall or that our eyelashes aren't long enough or that our skin isn't smooth enough or whatever the case may be, none of that really matters.

I've really loved seeing their posts pop up in my Instagram feed in the midst of everyone's perfect looking pictures. It helps to remind me that at the end of the day, looks don't really matter all that much.

YOU matter.

Who you are as a person matters. And who you are as a person is beautiful, inside and out. Not because you look like a model, but because you don't. Because you are uniquely you and that is a truly beautiful thing.

Oh, and if you're wondering about the title, it's a quote from The Swan Princess, one of my all time kid movies (No, not the Barbie one).

This is the scene that I'm talking about.


PS- I just found this article and I love it!

Married ≠ Healed

I've started trying to write this post a handful of times already and never felt right about any of the results. But I'm going to try again because I feel like this is important.

Being married is hard. It's scary and it's amazing and it's frustrating and it's wonderful and it's just really, really hard. And it's really, really worth it, but still really, really hard.

And I think that, in some ways, it's hard for anyone. You are taking two completely different people and putting them together to try to make their own life and family. And that's going to naturally come with ups and downs. There are silly little differences that you never would have thought of that will feel odd for a while. You were raised differently, think differently, and act differently. But at the end of the day, you love each other and learn how to compromise.

But I feel like my marriage has been excruciatingly difficult thus far and I don't know that it's quite like this for your typical newlyweds. In fact, it always seems to me that it's not. I see posts about the sweet things that they do for each other, the thoughtful gifts and gestures, the fun adventures that they're having, and the progress that they're making in their lives and it leaves me feeling... empty.

And obviously I don't know what is happening behind the social media filter, but I still am often left feeling like my marriage is missing so many things that other people seem to have.

You don't see posts about Jonathan and I going on adventures or sweet gestures or anything from us. Partially because I'm awful at taking pictures to make posts, partially because my husband is a very private person, but mostly because they don't happen.

Now before you decide that I must have made a mistake in marrying Jonathan, let me tell you about our lives.

When we got married, we couldn't afford our own apartment. We lived with an amazing family that Jonathan considers to be a second family in their guest bedroom. They were extremely kind and generous towards us, but I absolutely hated living there because they intimidated me. They were everything that I want to be.

The husband worked hard at a good job and the wife, well she was just incredible. She is talented in so, so many ways. She is a fantastic wife and mother, serves others, makes everything from scratch, is passionate about the gospel, etc. And she intimidated me beyond anything. I looked up to her so much that it hurt. Because I felt like I would never, ever get to where she is. She has faced many difficult things and come out a stronger and better person for it. And she tried to help me. She tried to teach me how to be better. I know that she prayed to know how to help me and actively did her best to do so. And she taught me a lot! And I am so grateful for everything that she did for me. But I was also often left feeling like I was never going to measure up to who she was trying to help me to be. And that broke me. And I'm still haunted by those feelings.

And on top of all of that, I also just felt so guilty for how long it was taking us to get out of their house! They were always so kind about us being there and did WAY more for us than I ever would have expected of anyone, but it still felt like we were encroaching on their home and lives. I felt so bad that a huge chunk of their basement was taken up with my belongings. And I felt so bad that their hospitality was so necessary for us. Jonathan was working super hard every single day, so most of the apartment searching and finance keeping was up to me. And I was struggling so much at the time that it was very difficult for me to make much headway at a time, despite hours spent searching for apartments online and calling complex after complex.

You see, I feel that I was extremely blessed over the summer last year. After a year and a half of feeling sick and depressed all the time, I actually felt pretty good! I had some energy, was able to do WAY more than I had been able to in a while, and just felt like things were finally starting to look up for me. I was about to get married to a wonderful man and it seemed that maybe healing was finally happening.

Well, I found out that Heavenly Father put in some hard work sustaining me through the wedding. And then once we got married, my health plummeted again. I was tired ALL THE TIME, nauseous and lightheaded constantly, and just felt generally unwell. I also gained a ton of weight seemingly out of nowhere and all of a sudden weighed more than I ever have before by about 25 pounds, leaving me with major self-image issues.

Compound that with the scariness of moving to a new state where I didn't know anyone, living with people that I just met, with my brand new husband that I really didn't know nearly as well as I had hoped to before marriage, and I pretty thoroughly slumped back down to where I had been before the summer. And in some ways, worse.

Jonathan got back to work and we saved up to get into our own place finally and eventually did at the very beginning of November. We could only afford the down payment because of a grant that literally came out of nowhere that appeared in my bank account. Apparently it was supposed to be for last Spring semester, but never processed. Until right when we needed it most of course!

We moved into our new place in the pouring rain and for the first few weeks we slept on a camp mattress on the floor that was only slightly wider than a twin. We had no furniture, so used the plastic tote that has Jonathan's military clothes in it as a table and sat on the floor.

Jonathan started a new job that same week, and so was then working two jobs as well as his drill weekends once a month for the Marines. He works at one job during the day for the first half of the week, and then a 12 hour night shift during the second.

We were SO happy to be in our own place and I spent the next few days reveling in unpacking our belongings into our own little apartment. It felt SO good to have our own space. To finally unpack all of the things that had been stored in the basement for so long. And I felt a sense of accomplishment in organizing my own little family's home.

We were extremely blessed to have people in the ward come out of the woodwork and find furniture for us to have. I am definitely a firm believer in the power of paying tithing, because we ended up with every single piece of our furniture so far being free. Including a really comfy, massive bed (just so you don't think that we're still on the floor ;) ).

It was definitely nice to start creating our own home.

But.

Jonathan is working more than ever. About 54 hours a week most weeks. And because of how his schedule flip-flops mid-week, it's thrown any kind of sleep schedule that we might have had before completely out the window. Which doesn't help my poor health situation. I keep trying to get into a decent sleep cycle and my body just... won't.

And with Jonathan working so much just so that we can pay our bills and pay off my past medical bills, there isn't much time for anything else. He works so, so hard for our family of two because I can't right now. I still haven't been able to securely hold a job since my ex's arrest. And the way my health has been since we got married, I really don't know when I'll be able to. And so he works two and a half jobs and hardly has time to sleep, let alone any time to unwind.

And in the midst of all of that there's me. I am an incredibly difficult person to be married to. Not because I don't love my husband or because I don't try to be a good wife, but because someone that came before hurt me so deeply that I am still trying to regain my footing over two years later.

And that makes life really, really hard.

Because I'm still not used to my husband being so nice to me. I'm not used to being with someone who loves me deeply, believes in me, is willing to go through hard things with and for me. I'm not used to being put first.

And it feels SO good to have that in my husband. But because I didn't have that with my ex, it's made me very wary.

I didn't know that I was being abused by my ex until after it was over. And so now, I am guarded. I am much more critical of Jonathan than I ever was of my ex because I'm terrified of being abused. My husband is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but he is so perfect for me in so many ways. I need someone who has been through difficult things and so knows how to be patient and loving in the midst of my storms. I need someone who is willing to take me by the hand and gently lead me back to the light. I need someone who is so understanding of my brokenness and sees beauty in it, and so much potential. I need someone who is willing and able to cut up for any slack that I inevitably leave at this time. And Jonathan is all of those things and more.

But he is also a human being. He has his flaws and shortcomings. And he is a VERY different person than me, which absolutely creates moments of hurt and frustration on both sides. We do things very differently and I have needs that he is not equipped to meet right now and he certainly has needs that I am nowhere near equipped to meet at the moment either. And because he works so hard every day, it leaves little to no room for sweet gestures and fun dates, even if he was the type of person to do those things in the first place.

But here's the thing. I know with complete certainty that he is the right person for me and I'll tell you why.

It's not because he is able to fulfill each and every one of my needs with exactness. It's not because he intuitively knows how to help me.

No.

It's because he is committed to doing all that he possibly can to provide for me in the ways that I most need. It's because he wants to be the absolute best for me and is actively striving to become so.

Jonathan often comes home from work absolutely exhausted, but then stays up a few hours more because I am struggling emotionally.

He won't take time for himself until he knows that I'm okay.

He holds me for as long as I need him to and listens as I express frustration at him, myself, and our situation.

And he never makes me feel like I'm not worth doing all of that for.

Where I feel like he should be fed up with me and my issues by now, he continues to love me more and more each and every day. And he wants to be better for me.

It's hard because I am so, so needy right now. I am still struggling physically and mentally more than I can bear. I need him to support me financially because I still can't work a regular job. I need him to support me emotionally when the pain of my ex's actions sets back in, when I feel useless and like I'm never going to progress, when I feel like I don't deserve the love that my husband gives me because I feel that I give him nothing in return but tears and heartache. I need him to support me spiritually as we desperately need God in our lives to help us through our struggles. I need him to basically be Superman. And he is. But he literally can't be in every single way that I need.

After working such long hours at his jobs and spending time making sure that I'm mentally and emotionally stabilized, his tank is empty. There is no more time or energy for him to take me out on dates, think of and execute plans for holidays, or help me to do all that I need to in order to heal.

And so he is doing all that he can and I am desperately trying to do all that I can and we both come up woefully short time and time again.

And so our marriage is incredibly difficult.

But all of the frustration and tears are oh so worth it because it is through my marriage with my sweet husband that I am truly beginning to understand the love that my Savior has for me. Because Jonathan sees me through God's eyes in a way that no one else does. He sees me as a person of value. He truly believes that I am worth every hardship. He sees my potential. And not only that, but he already believes that I am a good wife. He already sees me as amazing. It's not some future thing to him. It's not that I'm going to be so great someday once I'm healed. Once the emotions have been soothed and my physical health is stable. He thinks that I am incredible right now. As I am.

At the exact moment that I feel so incredibly useless and like I'm never going to progress, he looks at me with so much love and sees someone who does everything that she can to the point of exhaustion. He sees someone that is so worth loving and so worth working hard for. I can literally see the love in his eyes and hear it in his voice when he talks to me in the moments that I feel completely miserable and like I'll never have lasting happiness ever again.

And if a human being can look at me the way that Jonathan does, then I know that everything is going to be okay someday. Because if my husband can see so much in me, then the Lord surely sees even more. And if my husband can love me so fully, then the Lord surely loves me even more. And if my husband is willing to sacrifice so much for me, then I can get the teensiest glimpse of the immense sacrifice that the Savior made for me.

If God could create such an amazing human being like Jonathan, one who is so patient, hard working, self-sacrificing, and loving, then I know without a doubt that miracles are real.

If God can take someone as flawed and imperfect as my husband and give him the strength to be married to me, then I know that He must be able to give me the strength to be healed.

Jonathan can't heal me on his own and he doesn't profess to be able to. We both know that it will take professional help as well as lots and lots of help from God before I will be in a good place again.

But being married to someone who loves me so much and is willing to walk through my personal Gethsemane with his hand in mine has put me in the best possible position to finally start to make my way back out.

Being married to an amazing man doesn't mean that I'm healed. But it surely testifies to me that I can be.