Challenges of a New Mom - Decisions, Decisions

It was on the way home from the hospital with this new little life in my arms (no car seats were required. In fact, they were probably still just a thought on someones creative mind) that reality set in. I was a mom!!! Jim and I would be responsible not only for the health and well being of this little person but for what she would become. That thought was so overwhelming for a very young twenty year old. I was so inexperienced and I didn't have a mom to check with to make sure I was doing things right. I would have to depend on "mother's intuition" if such a thing existed. It wasn't long before I realized that it actually did.

Since there was no one to be with me that first week, I just jumped in to all my new responsibilities...being up two or three times every night to feed and comfort a crying baby, rinsing and washing what seemed to me an endless stream of dirty diapers (no disposables), sterilizing bottles (a "must" back then), and taking drives - sometimes even in the middle of the night- to soothe a crying baby who would be comforted no other way. Jeanie was a colicky baby and cried a lot. Thank goodness for paregoric which was used to treat colic in the early days before it was discovered it had some bad side effects (I never saw any) and is now a "no, no".

For the first few months our little Jeanie slept in a cradle which was made for my sisters and me when we were babies. I had painted it and made a new liner and mattress cover for it. I don't know what ever happened to that cradle, and I wish I did. I only remember that she was the only one who slept in it. We later bought a crib, a cheap one, that only lasted through our first three babies and then literally fell apart. But when we bought it, it was all we could afford and we thought it was wonderful.

Besides bragging about our new little daughter, Jim's and my discussions now turned to our future plans. Jim's commitment to the Air Force was drawing to a close and we needed to decide whether to re-enlist for another four years or pursue another career which would require going back to school. Re-enlisting was very tempting because it would include a $4,000 bonus. That was a LOT of money which could buy a LOT of things back then. And we could have government housing which was cheap, full medical coverage, and reduced-priced shopping at the commissary and PX. And even being able to travel to other countries sounded exciting to me. But I knew Jim had always talked about getting a college degree. His brother, Jesse, had try to instill the importance of education to Jim and his siblings whom he raised. Jesse had given up his own education in order to raise these brothers and sisters. No one so far in his whole family had ever gone on to college. Maybe part of Jim's desire to be the "one" to go on was his way showing his brother his gratitude for all he had sacrificed for him.

It was July before we decided to forgo the $4,000, retire from the military, and take on the challenge of getting an electrical engineering degree at the University of Utah. We knew the only way this would be possible was if Jim worked full time to support the family and went to school full time if he was to graduate in four years. Because he would be a war-time veteran the government would contribute $165.00 a month toward his education. That would help, but would certainly not cover even the school expenses. Since Jim's formal release time wouldn't be until the first of September and fall semester at the university began just a few days after that, we had to begin soon to find a place to live, secure a job for Jim, get registered at the university, and sign up for classes.

After much searching we found a small apartment in the basement of some one's home. It was in the neighborhood where I lived when we were married. It was old, kind of dark and dreary and not the best designed place we had seen, but it was what we could afford. Jim found a job at the LDS Hospital in the housekeeping department which meant mopping floors and cleaning up messes that no one else wanted to touch. For that he would be paid $1.00 an hour. Yes, that was ONE DOLLAR an hour, minimum wage. But the hours would work with his school schedule. He had been accepted at the University of Utah, and his classes on most days would be from 7:00 or 8:00 a.m. to 1:00 or 2:00 p.m. His work schedule was from 3:00 to 11:00 p.m.
Somewhere in there he would have to find time to study. We both knew that the next four years were going to be a challenge. But we were young and optimistic that together we could make the necessary sacrifices to reach this new goal we had set. We knew it would be difficult for both of us, but especially for Jim. He had always been a hard worker, but this would be the ultimate test of his strength and endurance. We were about to begin the next important phase of our lives that would in many ways affect the future of our family. Were we up to the challenge?

"Who Are These Children Coming Down?"

The last few weeks have been wonderfully extraordinary for me with the birth of three beautiful new special spirits into our family. First there was grandson, Wesley, born on April 12 to Carrie and Todd, followed my great granddaughter, Jaycee, who arrived on May 2. Her parents are Rachael and Rod Gardner. Then just six days later another granddaughter, Sierra, joined the Lea and Paul's family. Another great granddaughter is due to arrive in August. Looking at these new little babies either in person or by the miracle of the internet
has set me to thinking about the miracle of birth, about who these little spirits were in the pre-existence and pondering about the missions they were assigned to perform before they left the presence of our Heavenly Father. This I do know...all of them are valiant spirits who earned the right and were ordained to come to the earth at this time to perform a special mission, to usher in the second coming of the Savior. This is true of all those born in this generation. Each may have a different role to play in this great mission which will only be known to them through personal revelation. What an awesome task you parents have to teach, influence, and prepare these children to be worthy to receive this special guidance and revelation that comes through the Holy Ghost. Through your teachings and example they must learn to love the Lord that they will be called to serve. I'm sure each one of you feels the great responsibility that lies on your shoulders. But knowing each one you, I know you are up to the task and will do all you can to be good...no...GREAT parents.

How privileged we are to live in these last days to see the gospel spread to the far corners of the earth, to see revelation being fulfilled, and to know the hour of Christ's second coming is "close at hand" as the scriptures state. How privileged we are to welcome into our homes these "Saturday's Warriors" who are so smart, who have such strong personalities (they're going to need them), and who have come to us with special gifts, and talents which are necessary for them to fulfill the mission they have accepted. And it is not by accident that they came to you. The Lord placed these children in the homes where He knew they would have the best chance to succeed. He trusted you to love, nourish, and prepare the most noble of His children.

When I see these new, precious little ones, and know who they really are, I stand in awe. I am so grateful that the members of this family have been chosen to be part of God's great plan for these last days. I am grateful to be part of this family who love and support each other. The great responsibilities and inadequacies that we all feel at times are made easier when we know we have such a strong help and support system we have through family when we need it. God bless you all for that.

Today is Mother's Day, and although you may know that this is not my favorite holiday for reasons I have mentioned before, today has been wonderful because I have taken the time to reflect on all the blessings I have experienced because of being a mom. Sometimes it takes a lifetime before you really realize that it has been the family, especially your children who have brought you an understanding as to what JOY really means. There are a lot of bumps along the way, but they become just little molehills when you reach the end of the parenting journey and the fruits of your efforts begin to appear in the lives your children lead. I feel truly blessed this Mother's Day as my thoughts have been directed toward my sons and daughters all of whom are now parents and can understand what I'm saying. This has truly been a lovely day. And yes, your dad made me the traditional white carnation corsage, brought me breakfast in bed (eggs Benedict, no less), and cooked a wonderful dinner for me (chicken cordon bleu and strawberry shortcake). What a great husband and father he has been! And today I felt the spirit of my mom very close today and I know that she loves me and forgives me even if I did miss her last Mother's Day on earth. I feel at peace.

My First Birthing Experience

Thoughts of my mother became less painful as I began to focus on preparing for the upcoming birth of my first baby which was now only two months away. Except for frequent bouts with my skin allergy, all had gone well. My thoughts often drifted to wondering whether we would have a girl or a boy (no ultra sounds back then) and what he/she would look like. I imagined this dark-haired, (lots of it) brown-eyed, olive skin baby...like his/her father. As a little girl I had fantasized about marrying an Indian, a real Indian that wore a loin cloth and lived in a tepee. I have no idea where that fantasy came from. But it had been somewhat fulfilled when I married my part Indian, Jim. (Jim's grandmother was Indian) So maybe this vision I had about what my baby should look like was part of the fantasy I had as a child.

I hadn't been too excited by my prenatal care by random military doctors and nurses, (whoever happened to be on duty the day of my appointments), and I had no idea who would be on call when I went into labor. But their services were free. I don't feel that I had been very well prepared for a first-time birth. I really didn't know what to expect. I was a week overdue when I started having what I thought were regular contractions. So I headed off to the ugly, barrack-like hospital on base. Instead of telling me that these contractions were not the "real thing" and sending me home, they just kept me there. It was two days before I started in labor for real. No one had taught me how to minimize the pain and stress by relaxing and breathing techniques, so I was fighting every single contraction. (Maybe those techniques were not even around those days. Who knows?) I think this contributed to twenty-four hours of labor. By the time my baby was born, I was totally "out of it" because of all the drugs I had been given. This was not a great experience.

When my beautiful eight pound, three ounce, twenty-two inch long baby girl was placed in my arms, the bad experience of giving birth was all forgotten. However, when I looked at this blond-haired (what little she had), blue-eyed, white-skinned (not even pink) baby I wondered if somehow babies had been switched in the nursery. This couldn't be my baby. She didn't look anything like what I had pictured in my mind. But then I remembered that there were only two babies in the nursery, so it would have been pretty hard to mix them up. And besides, I had already fallen in love with that beautiful baby in my arms, blond hair and all.

My hospital stay was three days long as was standard in 1955. The worst part of that stay was the meals. No, it wasn't because of lousy food. It was where we had to eat them...in the mess hall with young servicemen. Here we were, in our hospital gowns, carrying our donut pillows given to us to make sitting a little more comfortable because of stitches, walking into a room full of staring, snickering single males. It was embarrassing...no, humiliating. I was so glad when I could take my baby and go home, swearing never to have another baby in a military hospital even if it was free.

We named our little girl Bessie Jean...Bessie after my mother and Jean after the sister-in-law who sacrificed so much to raise Jim in his teen-age years. We knew she would probably hate the old fashioned name, Bessie, or that she may some day be mocked by her peers because the name "Bessie" was often given to cows. So from the very beginning we called her Jeanie. I felt sad that Mother would never know her namesake, at least not in this life. But as I gave it more thought, I felt very strongly that Mom knew Jeanie better than me and I smiled at the thought that maybe she even picked her out to be sent to us because she was such a special spirit. It wouldn't surprise me if Jim's mom was right there, too, using whatever influence she may have had to pick the best. I have since felt that same way about all of the children that have come to us because they all have been so special...and still are. We have been blessed!

So now it was home to face life as a new mother without the help and advice of my experienced mother. Thank heaven for a wonder grandmother who picked up the reins and was there for me whenever I needed a mom.