Having spent time last month with two of my daughters (Lea and Carrie) who had just had new babies made me reflect on how much things have changed since my own little ones were born. First of all, the normal hospital stay was three days. Now, barring no complications, you are home in one. I guess this was a good thing for me because I had no one to help me once I got home. We were instructed by hospital nurses to make sure we put our babies on a strict schedule once we were home. They should not be allowed to eat oftener than three hours and not past four. If they were screaming before the three hours we could give them a little water sweetened with a little Karo syrup. The bottles used had to be meticulously sterilized. That meant boiling all bottles, nipples, pacifiers and anything that went in the baby's mouth. We had a special kettle that were designed just for that purpose.
The pacifier of my day was a regular nipple from a baby bottle stuffed with cotton. Babies were to be bathed every day and were to be placed on their tummies to sleep. Since there was no such thing as a disposable diaper, our cloth ones were to be washed daily, if possible, and only in Ivory Snow or Dreft (mild soaps). And it was recommended that they be soaked in bleach before washing to disinfect them. All other baby clothes were to be washed separately in the same mild soap. Since all clothes had to be hung out to dry (no dryers on the scene yet) they didn't come in very soft and fluffy. It helped if we had a good wind blowing on washday. In the winter it was common for the clothes to freeze on the line, so I had to bring them in and drape them on furniture all over the house to dry them.
New babies had to wear "belly bands" around their tummies until the cord fell off. They would never stay in place, and the little shirts were the cross-over ones with ties that usually just rode up around the neck....no "onesies" or shirts that went on over the head. Babies wore night gowns with draw strings at the bottom night and day. They were not dressed up unless you were going out, and "going out" with the baby was highly discouraged until six weeks. (I didn't follow that rule very much. And you know what? I don't ever remember my babies getting sick much either.)
As for furniture and accessories that are so helpful for moms these days, there was practically nothing; no changing tables, no carriers, no swings, no car seats, no little bouncy seats that play music and make soothing sounds to place them in while you worked around the house (I'm sure they must have a name), no walkers, no intercoms and no fancy strollers (only the umbrella kind which were just new and expensive. I could go on and on. What I had in those early years as a young mom were: a week's worth of clothes and diapers with "soakers" or plastic pants to go over them, blankets, a crib and a second hand "buggy" which was like a cloth bed on wheels with a handle to push. It was used like a stroller is used today to take babies for walks. It had a "hood" which raised up to protect from the sun. That was it. If we wanted to take babies with from room to room we would just take a blanket and lay them on the floor. In the living room we would prop them up in the corners of the couch and put a pillow in front of them. Playpens were available, but we never had one until our twins were born. When the baby was old enough there were jumping swings that attached to a door frame. Someone loaned me one of those, and it was a godsend. My little ones loved to jump in that swing.
Somehow, all of our children survived, or better said, I survived without all those special things that help young moms today. I'm especially grateful that our children survived all the traveling in a car without seat belts or car seats. It seemed I always had a baby or toddler on my lap as we drove. That's kind of scary as I look back. Helps for a new mom have come so far these days, as has the concern for the safety of children. That is good. But at times I wonder if we have gone a little overboard as to what think are "necessities" for new babies. With a little creativity we didn't do so bad taking care of our children in the fifties. And it surely was a lot cheaper! I can hardly conceive of what life must have been for pioneer mothers.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
We Are Blessed....Again!
I think that first semester of school was the hardest for both of us. It took us those first four months to get used to a totally new schedule and for Jim to get used to the rigors of studying, taking classroom notes, and doing projects after a four-year absence from school. But by February of 1955, the beginning of the new semester, I began to feel even more stressed. Being in that dark apartment all day and night alone was really getting to me, and I just fell apart every time that /#*! washer flooded the basement. And to top it all off, I was just not feeling well. I was throwing up every morning. You guessed it. I was pregnant! My first thought was, "That's the end of school. We have no insurance and barely enough money just to keep us housed and fed." But fortunately my second thought was, "That is just not going to happen. Quitting school is not an option. Somehow, we will figure it out."
I did have one option, a necessary option for me, and that was finding a new place to live. I knew that wouldn't be easy on our limited budget, but we at least had to try. After much searching we found an apartment located on the second floor of an older home. It had stairs on the outside of the house leading to the apartment, and being upstairs with lots of windows it was so light. I loved that. But there was one problem, the $85.00 a month was beyond our budget. As we were talking to the landlord their two Weimaraner dogs came up to us and began sniffing. Jeanie, who was fascinated by those two big dogs, walked right up to one of them, got nose to nose with it and said, "Woof, woof". That just melted the heart of the landlord who said, "We just have to have that little girl in our apartment. What can you afford to pay?" The price was lowered to $65.00 and we moved in. I loved that apartment. But there was one problem. Our previous two apartments had come furnished, and this one didn't. All the furniture we owned was a television set, the little desk I had bought Jim for Christmas, and a crib for Jeanie. Thanks to Grandma Knapp who gave us an old couch and a round oak table with claw legs and matching chairs, and to my Dad who gave us my mother's old bedroom set, we had furniture. I wish I still had that beautiful oak table. It would certainly be a collectible heirloom now. And we used that old bedroom set for the next fifteen or more years.
Another great thing about that apartment was that it was within walking distance of a grocery store AND a park with a lake, an aviary, and a carousel where I could take Jeanie and her new little sister, Debbie, who was born that July. I didn't even mind having to haul the children, groceries, and laundry up and down that long flight of stairs. And I was actually glad to get back to doing the laundry in an "old-fashioned" wringer washer located down a second flight of stairs in the basement. I knew that washer could not overflow and flood the basement.
If you're wondering how we managed to pay the bills for a new baby, again we knew that God was looking out for us. When we began looking for a doctor, we discovered that my mother's doctor who had treated her for over twenty years before her death had a son who was an OB-GYN. Because he also knew of my mother and because Jim was a full time student, he only charged us $50.00 for his services. The hospital also gave us a discount because Jim was and employee. I don't remember how much our bill was, but by comparison with hospital costs today it was very minimal. Although the customary hospital stay for childbirth was three days, the doctor let me come home in just one because he was aware of our circumstances. And that summer Jim was able to pick up a second part time job during school break supervising the delivery of telephone books in the Salt Lake area. Getting the supervisory job when he applied for a job delivering the books was another small miracle. It paid more. With this extra money we were able to pay off all the "baby" bills. And, he was able to keep that same summer job for the next three years.
We could really see the Lord's hand in our lives this year as we were blessed with a new little girl, Deborah, blessed with a a new bright apartment, blessed to be able to stay in school and still meet all our financial obligations, and best of all, blessed with a happier me. We were even able to afford a small Christmas tree that year. Nineteen fifty-five was indeed a special year when our testimonies really grew!
I did have one option, a necessary option for me, and that was finding a new place to live. I knew that wouldn't be easy on our limited budget, but we at least had to try. After much searching we found an apartment located on the second floor of an older home. It had stairs on the outside of the house leading to the apartment, and being upstairs with lots of windows it was so light. I loved that. But there was one problem, the $85.00 a month was beyond our budget. As we were talking to the landlord their two Weimaraner dogs came up to us and began sniffing. Jeanie, who was fascinated by those two big dogs, walked right up to one of them, got nose to nose with it and said, "Woof, woof". That just melted the heart of the landlord who said, "We just have to have that little girl in our apartment. What can you afford to pay?" The price was lowered to $65.00 and we moved in. I loved that apartment. But there was one problem. Our previous two apartments had come furnished, and this one didn't. All the furniture we owned was a television set, the little desk I had bought Jim for Christmas, and a crib for Jeanie. Thanks to Grandma Knapp who gave us an old couch and a round oak table with claw legs and matching chairs, and to my Dad who gave us my mother's old bedroom set, we had furniture. I wish I still had that beautiful oak table. It would certainly be a collectible heirloom now. And we used that old bedroom set for the next fifteen or more years.
Another great thing about that apartment was that it was within walking distance of a grocery store AND a park with a lake, an aviary, and a carousel where I could take Jeanie and her new little sister, Debbie, who was born that July. I didn't even mind having to haul the children, groceries, and laundry up and down that long flight of stairs. And I was actually glad to get back to doing the laundry in an "old-fashioned" wringer washer located down a second flight of stairs in the basement. I knew that washer could not overflow and flood the basement.
If you're wondering how we managed to pay the bills for a new baby, again we knew that God was looking out for us. When we began looking for a doctor, we discovered that my mother's doctor who had treated her for over twenty years before her death had a son who was an OB-GYN. Because he also knew of my mother and because Jim was a full time student, he only charged us $50.00 for his services. The hospital also gave us a discount because Jim was and employee. I don't remember how much our bill was, but by comparison with hospital costs today it was very minimal. Although the customary hospital stay for childbirth was three days, the doctor let me come home in just one because he was aware of our circumstances. And that summer Jim was able to pick up a second part time job during school break supervising the delivery of telephone books in the Salt Lake area. Getting the supervisory job when he applied for a job delivering the books was another small miracle. It paid more. With this extra money we were able to pay off all the "baby" bills. And, he was able to keep that same summer job for the next three years.
We could really see the Lord's hand in our lives this year as we were blessed with a new little girl, Deborah, blessed with a a new bright apartment, blessed to be able to stay in school and still meet all our financial obligations, and best of all, blessed with a happier me. We were even able to afford a small Christmas tree that year. Nineteen fifty-five was indeed a special year when our testimonies really grew!
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Our School Life Begins
It took us several months to get used to our new schedule, and we began to realize just what sacrifices we would have to make. For Jim, it was getting used to studying again, finding time to study, working hard until 11:00 at night when he was dead tired, and not being at home enough to watch the new things his little girl would do almost daily as she developed new skills. For me it was hardly ever seeing Jim except for a very short time in the afternoon between school and work, never having a "baby break" when Dad could take over for a while, and having to be alone all day and night in a very depressing apartment.
But perhaps one of the most unexpected and frustrating difficulties I had to face was the washing machine I had to use in our new apartment. I should have been thrilled to have use of one of the first automatic washers on the market...a Bendix front loading machine. Only the rich could afford one at this time, and our landlady was fairly wealthy. Her name was Evelyn Wood, the inventor of the first speed reading program which she had developed. She was an educator, very well known and much in demand to teach schools and organizations how to use her new method...at a fee, of course. She may have been very smart, but she was a lousy landlord (lady). Anyway, back to the washing machine. It was located in a section of the basement not occupied by our apartment and where we had a storage closet. So what was the problem? The problem was that occasionally the door of washer would come unlatched from the vibrating of the machine, and water would flood the basement. The first time it happened I thought that I must not have locked the door completely, and I was devastated. I swept the water from the flooded basement to the drain the best I could and opened all the basement windows to help dry things out. All the things I had stored in the closet were soaked, including some boxed wedding gifts, books, documents, and memorabilia that were important to me. I was scared to death what Sister Wood (she was a member of the Church) would say. Needless to say she was not happy. After this happened two or three more times I KNEW it wasn't my fault because I was so careful to make sure the door was locked securely. But I surely spent a lot of time crying as I mopped up the mess gain and again.
The first Christmas in that apartment was pretty bleak. We couldn't afford a Christmas tree nor decorations to trim one. Jeanie's only gift from Santa was a stuffed animal, Tramp, from Walt Disney's movie, "Lady and the Tramp". We spent some time with Grandma Knapp, Dad and Teun, and Jesse and Jean just to get us more in the holiday spirit. At least they had Christmas trees...and they all had gifts for Jeanie. But the thing that made this Christmas special and memorable to me was that I was able to surprise Jim with a small desk on which he could study. I had saved nickles and dimes from grocery money over the past six months, and with the influence of my dad on the furniture store owner who was a personal friend, I was able to get a great deal on the desk. As I look back now it was a pretty cheap (and I don't mean just in dollars), but at the time I thought it was pretty wonderful. That desk has since been used for many purposes, including a sewing table for me.
Jim made it through his first semester with reasonable grades considering he had taken mostly required (and not too interesting to him) subjects. And I had survived my first four months as a "widow" by taking long walks with Jeanie and talking to neighbors. We only had one car so I couldn't go anywhere. But even though at times I felt depressed and lonely, I tried to be "up" and positive when Jim came home. I wanted him to feel loved and supported in what he was doing. And by comparison he was sacrificing much more than me. He has since told me that if I had complained about our situation or lack of material things he would have quit school in an instant and gone to work to support us better. He also said that he could have easily used that as an excuse for him to quit when things were tough for him and he really wanted to give it all up. But he had too much pride to take the blame.
What kept us both going was the knowledge that an education would make a difference in what we could provide for our family in the future. And that was worth it!
But perhaps one of the most unexpected and frustrating difficulties I had to face was the washing machine I had to use in our new apartment. I should have been thrilled to have use of one of the first automatic washers on the market...a Bendix front loading machine. Only the rich could afford one at this time, and our landlady was fairly wealthy. Her name was Evelyn Wood, the inventor of the first speed reading program which she had developed. She was an educator, very well known and much in demand to teach schools and organizations how to use her new method...at a fee, of course. She may have been very smart, but she was a lousy landlord (lady). Anyway, back to the washing machine. It was located in a section of the basement not occupied by our apartment and where we had a storage closet. So what was the problem? The problem was that occasionally the door of washer would come unlatched from the vibrating of the machine, and water would flood the basement. The first time it happened I thought that I must not have locked the door completely, and I was devastated. I swept the water from the flooded basement to the drain the best I could and opened all the basement windows to help dry things out. All the things I had stored in the closet were soaked, including some boxed wedding gifts, books, documents, and memorabilia that were important to me. I was scared to death what Sister Wood (she was a member of the Church) would say. Needless to say she was not happy. After this happened two or three more times I KNEW it wasn't my fault because I was so careful to make sure the door was locked securely. But I surely spent a lot of time crying as I mopped up the mess gain and again.
The first Christmas in that apartment was pretty bleak. We couldn't afford a Christmas tree nor decorations to trim one. Jeanie's only gift from Santa was a stuffed animal, Tramp, from Walt Disney's movie, "Lady and the Tramp". We spent some time with Grandma Knapp, Dad and Teun, and Jesse and Jean just to get us more in the holiday spirit. At least they had Christmas trees...and they all had gifts for Jeanie. But the thing that made this Christmas special and memorable to me was that I was able to surprise Jim with a small desk on which he could study. I had saved nickles and dimes from grocery money over the past six months, and with the influence of my dad on the furniture store owner who was a personal friend, I was able to get a great deal on the desk. As I look back now it was a pretty cheap (and I don't mean just in dollars), but at the time I thought it was pretty wonderful. That desk has since been used for many purposes, including a sewing table for me.
Jim made it through his first semester with reasonable grades considering he had taken mostly required (and not too interesting to him) subjects. And I had survived my first four months as a "widow" by taking long walks with Jeanie and talking to neighbors. We only had one car so I couldn't go anywhere. But even though at times I felt depressed and lonely, I tried to be "up" and positive when Jim came home. I wanted him to feel loved and supported in what he was doing. And by comparison he was sacrificing much more than me. He has since told me that if I had complained about our situation or lack of material things he would have quit school in an instant and gone to work to support us better. He also said that he could have easily used that as an excuse for him to quit when things were tough for him and he really wanted to give it all up. But he had too much pride to take the blame.
What kept us both going was the knowledge that an education would make a difference in what we could provide for our family in the future. And that was worth it!
Friday, May 16, 2008
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?
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?
Sunday, May 11, 2008
"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.
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.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
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.
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.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Realizing the Vital Role of Mother
It had only been five short months since my mother had stood in the line at my wedding...only twenty short years that my mother had been part of my life, and a very long two months since I said good-bye for the last time at the airport. I didn't know it would be the last time because I already had in my mind that I would take my newborn to California to see her. I remember her getting on the airplane from a wheelchair with her oxygen tank in tow. She was excited because this would be her first ever flight in a plane, and she hoped that the lower altitude in California would prolong her life a little longer. And we, too, hoped that this would be the case. She so wanted to live at least a few years longer to get J.D. through those difficult teen years. But it was not to be. It was on October 10, 1954, that my dad called to tell me that Mom had passed away. I don't think it was by chance, but by divine intervention that her beloved doctor from Salt Lake just happened to be taking trip to California and stopped by to see her the day that she died. He was there to aid and comfort her. What a blessing. Mom was flown home for the funeral and burial. This was where she was born and spent her life. This was where her family and and life-long friends were. This is where she would have wanted to be laid to rest next to her father and younger brother who had drowned at the age of sixteen.
The next few months are a big blur in my life. Although I was aware of the fragile condition of my mother's health, it had been that way for many years and still, somehow, she had survived to the age of forty-five. But still that is so young to die. Her doctor who spoke at her funeral said that it had only been her strong will to live that had kept her alive ten years longer than he would have predicted. But still the reality of her death failed to "sink in". Are we ever really ready to lose those in our life whom we love so much even though we know it is inevitable? Did I say often enough how much I loved her? Did I express my gratitude for how much he taught me and all that she did for me in spite of being so sick? Did I really empathize with the difficulty of her life? Did I show the resentment that I felt at times because I had to do so much more than my friends to help her out? And what did I do for her on Mother's Day this last year? That haunted me the most because I realized that Mother's Day that year was the same weekend that we were married, and I wasn't even sure I remembered her special day. I don't remember even going to visit her. I've hated Mother's Day ever since because it brings back memories of forgetting my mom on the the last year she was on earth.
I was very concerned at this time for my brother and sister, Georgia. Georgia had only been in Hawaii for two days when she received the news about mom and immediately flew home. She was now in a turmoil as to what to do with her life now that all her plans had been disrupted. She moved in with Grandma Knapp and went back to work. But I really worried about J.D. who had moved into a small apartment with my dad. He was very close to Mom, and I could see the pain he was feeling. This was made worse by the fact that my dad began dating almost immediately after my mom died. I feel that it showed insensitivity to us children and to mom's family even though Mom had always said that she wanted him to marry again after her death. She loved Dad and didn't want him to be alone for the rest of his life knowing that her days were numbered. She even suggested that Teuntje Van de Merwe, a single immigrant from Holland and a close family friend, would make a good wife. But dating her so soon after Mom's death bothered us and I think was devastating to J.D. Teun, as we called her, was a good person and a hard worker, but she had never been married and would now have to take on a teenage son. She, like my dad, had the "Old Country" thinking when it came to raising children...very strict. "Do what I say when I say it and no arguing" was their philosophy, and I knew that would never work with a teenager. Mom had been very good at tempering this kind of attitude in my dad, but now there would be no restraint. I could see real trouble ahead for J.D....and there was.
Christmas came and it was the worst one of my life. I guess I never realized or at least I failed to realize that it was Mom who kept the family close, especially on the holidays. Nobody in the family stepped up to the plate and planned anything. On Christmas Eve I remember going to Grandma Knapp's apartment where my sister was. We just sat together wondering what to do and what to say, and ended up sharing how much we missed Mom and crying together. We tried to locate J.D. and Dad but they were not home. We assumed that they must be with Teun and her friends. What a miserable Christmas he must have been having. I'm not even sure that my dad got him anything that Christmas because once again it was Mom who took care of those things. And I'm sure Dad was a little preoccupied with other things like planning his upcoming marriage in January. That, too, had been a little depressing to all of us. We had tried to talk to Dad about waiting a little while longer, but he could see no reason for waiting. He told us that "This is what Mom wanted so why put it off." He just seemed oblivious to our feelings. Christmas day we spent with Jim's family, and that was a nice diversion from all the pain we were feeling.
Somehow we survived that Christmas with a resolve to never let this happen again. We would make sure that plans would be made to have the next one like Mom would have wanted. But now we would have to face the upcoming wedding with "happy for Dad" faces. Don't get me wrong, Teun was a great person. We really liked her. And we were happy that Dad would now have someone wait on him like he had waited on my mother and the family for all these years. And we knew that Teun would. Dad deserved that. And I truly believed that she loved him and was excited about getting married for the first time. But I know that she had expressed some concern that maybe it was too soon. In that way she was more sensitive than Dad. But my Dad was stubborn and would not listen to her either. So the wedding was on and our concern was now for my little brother.
The next few months are a big blur in my life. Although I was aware of the fragile condition of my mother's health, it had been that way for many years and still, somehow, she had survived to the age of forty-five. But still that is so young to die. Her doctor who spoke at her funeral said that it had only been her strong will to live that had kept her alive ten years longer than he would have predicted. But still the reality of her death failed to "sink in". Are we ever really ready to lose those in our life whom we love so much even though we know it is inevitable? Did I say often enough how much I loved her? Did I express my gratitude for how much he taught me and all that she did for me in spite of being so sick? Did I really empathize with the difficulty of her life? Did I show the resentment that I felt at times because I had to do so much more than my friends to help her out? And what did I do for her on Mother's Day this last year? That haunted me the most because I realized that Mother's Day that year was the same weekend that we were married, and I wasn't even sure I remembered her special day. I don't remember even going to visit her. I've hated Mother's Day ever since because it brings back memories of forgetting my mom on the the last year she was on earth.
I was very concerned at this time for my brother and sister, Georgia. Georgia had only been in Hawaii for two days when she received the news about mom and immediately flew home. She was now in a turmoil as to what to do with her life now that all her plans had been disrupted. She moved in with Grandma Knapp and went back to work. But I really worried about J.D. who had moved into a small apartment with my dad. He was very close to Mom, and I could see the pain he was feeling. This was made worse by the fact that my dad began dating almost immediately after my mom died. I feel that it showed insensitivity to us children and to mom's family even though Mom had always said that she wanted him to marry again after her death. She loved Dad and didn't want him to be alone for the rest of his life knowing that her days were numbered. She even suggested that Teuntje Van de Merwe, a single immigrant from Holland and a close family friend, would make a good wife. But dating her so soon after Mom's death bothered us and I think was devastating to J.D. Teun, as we called her, was a good person and a hard worker, but she had never been married and would now have to take on a teenage son. She, like my dad, had the "Old Country" thinking when it came to raising children...very strict. "Do what I say when I say it and no arguing" was their philosophy, and I knew that would never work with a teenager. Mom had been very good at tempering this kind of attitude in my dad, but now there would be no restraint. I could see real trouble ahead for J.D....and there was.
Christmas came and it was the worst one of my life. I guess I never realized or at least I failed to realize that it was Mom who kept the family close, especially on the holidays. Nobody in the family stepped up to the plate and planned anything. On Christmas Eve I remember going to Grandma Knapp's apartment where my sister was. We just sat together wondering what to do and what to say, and ended up sharing how much we missed Mom and crying together. We tried to locate J.D. and Dad but they were not home. We assumed that they must be with Teun and her friends. What a miserable Christmas he must have been having. I'm not even sure that my dad got him anything that Christmas because once again it was Mom who took care of those things. And I'm sure Dad was a little preoccupied with other things like planning his upcoming marriage in January. That, too, had been a little depressing to all of us. We had tried to talk to Dad about waiting a little while longer, but he could see no reason for waiting. He told us that "This is what Mom wanted so why put it off." He just seemed oblivious to our feelings. Christmas day we spent with Jim's family, and that was a nice diversion from all the pain we were feeling.
Somehow we survived that Christmas with a resolve to never let this happen again. We would make sure that plans would be made to have the next one like Mom would have wanted. But now we would have to face the upcoming wedding with "happy for Dad" faces. Don't get me wrong, Teun was a great person. We really liked her. And we were happy that Dad would now have someone wait on him like he had waited on my mother and the family for all these years. And we knew that Teun would. Dad deserved that. And I truly believed that she loved him and was excited about getting married for the first time. But I know that she had expressed some concern that maybe it was too soon. In that way she was more sensitive than Dad. But my Dad was stubborn and would not listen to her either. So the wedding was on and our concern was now for my little brother.
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