My Path to Motherhood

As the oldest of eight children, I certainly did my fair share of taking care of little kids.  Though I'm sure at times I complained, mostly I loved helping.  I was an avid reader, but my favorite series was "The Babysitters Club."  Kids were a big deal to me - I couldn't wait to turn 12 and be able to officially babysit, my ideal career plans involved working in a day care, and I always knew I wanted to be a mom.

When I was 17, I received my patriarchal blessing. I remember sitting and listening, silently pleading, “please say I’ll be a wife and a mother…”  When I heard that most important phrase, I breathed an audible sigh of relief, and didn’t really hear much else.

The years went by and soon I was graduating BYU with my bachelor’s degree in Psychology.  A bachelor’s in Psychology is primarily good for one thing – getting in to Grad school, so I entered the Master’s program in School Psychology and School Counseling.  Around this time I began dating a recently returned missionary named Mark.  We quickly became serious and soon it wasn’t a question of “if” we would get married, but “when.”

Our first year of marriage was an intense, but happy time.  My graduate program was three years long, and as a newly married woman, I found myself confused as to how to handle all the seemingly conflicting messages I received.  On the one hand, we are taught to get all the education we can.  I adored my field of study.  School Psychology was my dream job - challenging and fulfilling and worthwhile.  On the other hand, we’re counseled to “multiply and replenish the earth” and to focus our energies inside the home.  I didn’t know how to reconcile these two messages. 

Soon, both Mark and I felt that it was time to start our family.  I’m a planner, and this timeline didn’t necessarily fit with my “plan.”  Although excited about the prospect of being a mom and having a new baby, I’ll admit I was a little reluctant and maybe even a little arrogant.  In retrospect, my attitude seems like I was saying, “Okay, Heavenly Father, I will sacrifice all this (meaning my schooling and my ideal timeline), to raise a baby, because I'm just so righteous and obedient...”

The first few months passed and when I didn’t get pregnant, I was a little relieved because it fit better with my "plan."  

Then we got to the time frame when I had originally wanted to get pregnant and still, it didn’t happen.  Every month I was sure “this would be the month!” And every month ended in disappointment.  Soon six months passed, then a year. 

It was a difficult time.  We lived in Wymount, which is BYU family housing.  It's nicknamed, “the Rabbit Hutches,” for good reason.  I was literally surrounded by pregnant women and new babies.  Each time a friend or ward member announced their pregnancy, although I was truly happy for them, it also felt like a punch in the gut.   

Slowly, my mindset shifted.  As I knelt by my bed at night, I no longer stubbornly told Heavenly Father, “okay, I’ll have a baby if you want me too.”  Instead, with tears streaming down my face, I told Him of the ache in my heart.  Having a child, being a mom, became my deepest desire and I begged for the opportunity and blessing. 

More time passed, and though my pleas for a baby were not answered in the affirmative, and the ache and yearning grew indescribably deeper, I experienced some tender mercies of the Lord that, in the midst of this trial, let me know that He knew me, loved me, and had a plan for me. These tender mercies came in a myriad of ways:

1.    Through visiting teaching.  I didn’t tell many people of our struggles with infertility.  It was too sensitive for me.  One of my visiting teachers had been struggling with infertility for 6 years and during the time she faithfully visited me, she shared some of her experiences, and soon became pregnant with twins.  

     My visiting teaching companion was an AMAZING, beautiful woman with two gorgeous kids.  She spoke often and openly about her struggles to have those two children.  

     Hearing the stories of these two sisters helped me hold on to hope and I know the Lord put them in my path to provide comfort along the way.

2.    I was called to be RS president in my ward.  At first, this made me extremely nervous because of the make-up of the ward; I felt out of place because I’d been married for years and didn’t have kids.  

     As a RS president, one is privy to information that is not generally known.  I was shocked to discover how many women were struggling with issues similar to mine.  As I met with dear sisters who also yearned to have a baby, or who had experienced miscarriages or other losses, I learned that I wasn’t alone.  I also had a depth of compassion and understanding that I wouldn’t have had otherwise. 

3.    After serving as RS president for a year, I was released, and Mark was immediately called to be in the bishopric of a singles ward.  Our family ward bishop had given the recommendation for this calling, and upon telling us about it, he indicated that he had felt strongly that, due to the unique demands of the calling, he needed to recommend someone who did not have children (this bishop knew nothing of our struggles).  In Mark's setting apart blessing, he was told how important this calling was for him and how it would lay the foundation for his future church service.  In those moments, we felt the Lord saying, “I know this is hard, but I love you, and this is MY plan.”

4.    Soon after Mark was called to be in the singles ward bishopric, I was called to be the Stake Relief Society secretary in this same singles stake.  Again, we heard the now-familiar story, “due to the demands of the calling, we felt strongly we needed to call someone without children” and again, in my setting apart blessing, I heard how important this service would be for me.  Tender mercy.  Peace, in the midst of heartbreak. 

 The Stake Relief Society presidency

Finally, after nearly two years of yearning, I was pregnant.  I can’t begin to describe my joy!  

When my beautiful daughter was placed in my arms, I knew that nothing I had or could “give up” would be better than the gift of motherhood.  Though I wouldn’t wish infertility on anyone, I am grateful for that trial in my life.  I know it made ME a better mother; it was what I needed. 

Happy Mother's Day to all the women in my life who inspire, encourage, and lift me, and to the generations of mothers before me who made all this possible.