Hope Out of Despair #2

Grab a drink and get ready to read....

Straight after our last baby, Mr E, was born and eventually came home, I was adamant I would not have any more children.

During my labour I was informed that "you better stop having babies, your babies keep coming earlier and earlier!!!"

I accepted that was true, it was afterall a fact, and I definitely didnt want to do an earlier one next time round.

So I gave all I had away.

All my baby gear apart from my biggest stuff, as I no longer needed it, I gifted it off. All my clothes, as he grew out of them, gifted.  Everything.

Then, a little over a year ago, I felt completely undone. My heart was breaking and I couldnt understand why.

After some soul searching I realised that suddenly my mind was allowing me to feel the grief of the season we had been through.

And I felt like I was falling apart.

And so it was, allowing myself to feel the pain so that I could be healed, overcome it and be made whole.

And I went through so many emotions.

I would feel angry that other people "got it easy" and took their beautiful full term, just born babies home. Full of joy and celebration.  While I got ripped off, had to fight, and home-coming is agonising hard work (more than a regular newborn - which I have had once).

I felt undone and deep regret that I had been overcome with exhaustion at my newly home baby boys and vented my frustration at them in the night... they cried nearly all night long for weeks on end.

I felt pain at the sheer circumstaces surrounding their births, the loss of control and the inability to do things with for my baby that every mother has a right to do.

I was angry that my babies were almost taken away from me.

I faced the fact that twice my life was on the line.

It was NEVER meant to be like this.

Just deep deep pain. Heart ripped open. And bleeding. And tears. Lots of tears.

At the same time, I felt greatful. Almost guilty for feeling grief.

I was greatful for my life (in a new way)!

I was greatful for the lives of my two sons, one of whom should absolutely not be alive today.

I was greatful for the miracle of a beautiful, healthy child. No long term effects, just perfection.

I was greatful for the people I met, the connections I made, the hospitals, free medical care, midwives, doctors, nurses and teams who so lovingly cared for us and helped to save us.

Not everyone gets the 'happy ending' to their story.

I was greatful for our friends and family, and church family, who did more for us than I could ever say.

So, in the midst of that mess I had to let God come and heal my heart. I had to process my emotions and thoughts.

Its funny how you often think youve dealt with something fully and then suddenly your heart is ripped open and you realise that, no, the pain is there buried deep.

I thinks its so we are not overwhelmed by it- if it all came at once we surely couldnt cope.

Anyway, that was the start of this journey of hope. Agonising hurt. Raw pain.

But I let people in. My nearest and dearest knew my agony.

 I asked people to pray for me, and slowly the agony subsided.

Then I had a dream.

The dream was quite symbolic. I had chosen a 99.9% effective form of contraception mostly because I was terrified of pregnancy.

It went wrong in my body.

The dream was about me getting it out. I knew I needed to get it out.

So then began fear.

Fear is UGLY.

And I was terrified of pregnancy. I was terrified of a repeat or worse of what we'd had. All the what ifs came baring down.

I booked to have it removed and I had a month.

I cried EVERYDAY.

Why?

Well, I couldnt decide whether to make our three kids a permanent three. And time was ticking.

I ended up seeing my GP amd through tears asking how you "know" when you're finished having kids.

She graciously told me that I clearly wasnt ready to decide.

And we talked babies. We talked how my two premmie situations were freak events. We talked how they dont usually repeat themselves. 

And I had a glimpse of hope.

Over the course of time I started to daydream about holding one more baby of my own. About what I would call her/him (mostly her) and how she would look.

I thought of the implications of four. I weighed it up. But I couldnt get it out of my heart.

Meanwhile Dave was in a similar place. Fear, asking questions, yet longing for another.

A couple of months passed. Armed with a couple of dreams, several scriptures and a few support networks, we decided we would try.

We werent used to this baby business taking time....

And it took time.

I was obsessed. I couldnt get this baby out of my head.

I imagined I was pregnant. I had all kinds if very convincing symptoms. I was jealous of people pregnant. Jealous of people pregnant with their fourth! Not in a terrible jealousy way. I just longed. I took test after test. Nothing.

I got a glimpse of the journey of others, in a very, very tiny way. And had more compassion for them.

And I was sick.

I got diagnosed as underactive thyroid. Seriously under active. I had all the symptoms and now my blood showed it.

I told the doctor I wouldnt take medication. (Im not anti medication - this time Iit was just a real conviction I had).

After everything we had been through with hospitals and medicine, I had some promises that this was no longer my story, it was my history. And so I decided I would fight it.

The doctors said "your hormones are all affected. Fertility is affected. Without medication you probably wont conceive." Even then chances of miscarriage were high. I dont need to go through that again.

That day I surrendered my dream of a fourth child. I couldnt live obsessed. I needed to be well.

I also said "Im not having this. This is not my life. This is not happening to me." I was devastated and worried, yet determined to try to overcome without medication.

I researched a tonne. I changed my diet and dramatically shifted both my intake and schedule of coffee drinking. I used essential oils sparingly to try to aid normal hormone levels. I took a thyroid supplement.

I realised I had complete adrenal fatigue. I made the necessary changes to my stress levels and lifestyle. Treat fatigue, treat the thyroid.

I started to feel better!! I got my life back!

Four weeks later, I was pregnant! Pregnant!?!?! What!?

I had repeat bloods a few weeks after and was told....

"You are still slightly underactive. The specialist recommends medication as underactive thyroid can affect the baby... cause mental retardation, premature birth....." and the rest conprised a list of nearly every circumstance surrounding Mr E's birth.

Suddenly. Fear. Ugly fear.

I didnt want to be responsible for a child having long term effects because of my irresponsibility. Yet, ive been given a miracle when it was meant to be impossible.

Enter Soul searching. Heart searching. Prayer. Lots of talking. Dave and I decided to wait a week and get a repeat test. Pray for a miracle. To not act out of fear.

I rang the doctor and decided id get a second opinion from my usual GP. I asked for the thyroid numbers.

I discovered they had improved so much that they were near normal again.

I went to see my other doc, who was amazed at the results and very interested to hear what changes I had made. She agreed to repeat bloods.

The result, NORMAL. yes, NORMAL!!!!

So now Im being monitored. But not needing medicine.

I aslo discovered Id had glandular fever. No wonder I felt like a depressed, no energy or motivation, train wreck everyday.

So here I am, no longer a hypothyroid (thanks be to God), and a 16 week pregnant mama, my fourth on its way.

Taken from complete despair and brokenness, to complete hope, courage to risk again and face turning our dream into a reality. Now awaiting the arrival of this precious one. 100% confident that EVERYTHING will be ok.

In fact this time, Im believing for a full term, beautiful, healthy baby and a great story.

im confident all will be well no matter what.

Its my turn.

And it can be your turn too. Your turn to hope again and risk again.

More next time xxx

The Higher Call of Living

I'm hiding from my kids... I should get a better hiding place, not in the lounge, and wondering if I really should have yet another coffee today.

Yip it's one of those days... bubba is sleeping. I'm trying to get him into a better day pattern. Poor kid gets dragged all over the show he doesn't quite know when to sleep or not. At least he (usually) knows night is for sleep.

He thinks the carseat is some kind of torture, like, going into it suddenly causes an onset of baby insomnia and episodes of crying whenever the vehicle ceases to move.

They're funny these little people. Such personalities while still so young and small. They know what they do and don't like and just how to tell you.

In all its frustrations and delights I often find myself thinking over how to raise these little people, discipline and teach them, while fully enabling them to be confident in who they are and what they are capable of.

Never before have children been so free to discover who they are and live their dreams like the generation being born right now.

There is no ceiling, no limitations in what they are able to accomplish if they really want to.

My hubby and I have noticed lately.... in the childrens books of our parents, there is a recurring theme of being 'small' - being in a safe world and staying well within your safe little comfort zone. Being confined and definitely not stepping out or trying to break the mold... and if you did, right back to the safe little place you go once you discover the world is big and bad and you simply cannot break out.

What a message to send to a generation. And, they largely lived within the parameters of that. It was and is very difficult being of that generation and not fitting the mold.

Then you get todays books.... living dreams, trying everything and anything. You are capable and competent. You are incredible. The world is waiting for you to be!

And somewhere in between there was a revolution, and we didn't even know it.

My generation, our generation, is crying out for freedom. For social change that enables. We are beginning to see people that rise up and live their dreams as amazing, rather than crazy or silly. We want to do it too. We want to break the mold and the holds of society on us.

We're discovering who we are and who we were made to be. And we're ok with that and have found that in being that, we are the closest to free we have ever been.

What's more, we have people rising up... in pockets all over the world, who are prepared to or are fighting for anothers right to that same freedom. What a stage we have set before us.

I believe we are the closest to a radical shift that the world has seen in a long time.

So how do we raise a generation facing possible impossibilities for their future?  I mean, while freedom is great, and we want it and need it - there are good and bad in both scenarios.

How do we find a balance between chasing our dreams, living our dreams, and facing the reality of life and what is necessary to make life good and make life work...

The large majority in our parents' generation know how to work hard. Get a job, have a job and keep a job.  They know how to turn up on time, keep house and yard, cook a meal from scratch.  They know how to save money and work towards a reward, how to start at the bottom and work towards the top.

Somewhere in the revolution, we have a whole bunch of people who are living their 'freedom' all the while acting like the world completely owes them something. 

They don't know how to get a job, work hard and keep a job.  They don't keep time, don't know how to do basic things around a house, they couldn't cook a basic staple meal from cupboard ingredients....  and they don't know how to start at the bottom and work for something better.  The amount of people with horrendous debt is shocking.

For example - I am astounded at how few young people have their driver's licence, their own car or a part-time job now a days.  They want to have the latest stuff, go to the beach, the movies, shopping - wherever and whatever, but they don't want or in some cases even see the need to pay their way, make a fair contributionor at least work to finance the newest thing.

I got a part-time job and my licence as soon as I was old enough, I learnt to drive, and as soon as I had saved enough money, paid for my very own first car.  I paid for the petrol, the warrants and registration, and the insurance.  I bought my very first cellphone and always paid for the top ups.  We help in a youth ministry, and the outside of 'church' setting, the activities we can do are limited - because virtually none of the youth drive, let alone have a car...

Somewhere while entagled in the idea of freedom, people have become so idealistic that they expect everything to come knocking at their door - instead of involving hard work, which leads to increasing levels of freedom... they want to chase their dreams, but neglect the responsibility that comes with life as an adult.

It is true when we hear that saying "they want what their parent's have now, without the sacrifice and hard work their parents put in to get it"

I want to raise kids that are well rounded individuals... to do enough for them that they have what they need and some of what they want, but that they recognise and have incentive to work hard and reap the rewards and self-respect that come from earning an honest living.

Hopefully balance can be found somewhere around here....

• work = money.  Learn how to save it, spend it and give it
• every person is valuable and deserves respect and dignity, including yourself
• life is not always fair, your turn will come
• work hard, play hard, be fair
• arrive on time
• discover who you are and what you are good at, and do that
• don't spend most of your time trying to overcome your weaknesses.  Do what you can do and do it well
• encourage others
• make good choices for yourself
• tackle challenges, face your fears
• it's ok to make mistakes
• say sorry, apologies are valuable
• pray everyday
• be thankful
• learn to drive, get a car, get your full licence
• relationships are more important than anything else
• give to others without expectation
• look after your spirit, your soul and your body
• have only a few non-negotiable rules
• find your place, rise up and give it 100%
• let other's have their opinions, and you have yours
• don't forget to live - especially while you're waiting for the next big thing
• live for a greater cause than yourself and your family
• there is always more

Its time to study hard, work hard, do well at what you are supposed to be doing and see the world change. It really can become a better place for the generations to come, and with all we've been given, it should!

Today may your eyes be opened to the world of possible impossibilties around you, and what is in your hand to do...

I'm a foodie....

I'm a foodie.  There, I said it.

I love food.  I love choosing it, smelling it, touching it, slicing it, preparing it, baking it, frying it, cooking it, serving it, and most of all, eating it.  I LOVE the eating part.

But to be honest, I'm an addict.  That sounds hilariously funny, because we all need food to survive (obviously), but when you get down to the raw truth, I am addicted to food.  And coffee.

Not all food.  I can't openly proclaim that I am addicted to sprouts or vegetables or fruit or anything disgusting.  But I am definitely addicted to the good stuff.

I totally love preparing food, baking etc.  For others and for myself.  I love it too much.

I often get asked the question... like how do you go from

to

and, even more common - how do you look like

within a few months of having a baby.....  it doesn't really end.

My answer is usually hard work.  Because that's virtually the nuts and bolts of it.

The fact that I get asked nearly everywhere I go, nearly everyday, tells me that there are plenty of people out there who have the same problem as me.  As a society, we seem to classify addicts as people to who take drugs, or who smoke or have these habitual 'bad' problems that affect their health/wealth etc adversely.... well, I'm pretty sure obesity and too much extra weight can have adverse health problems too.

Most people I talk to want to know and seem to think I have some great level of self control.  And sometimes I do.  Most often, I don't.  I have a degree of self control for a season of time that I know will end.  And then my self control runs out.

Addict - to habituate or abandon (oneself) to something compulsively or obsessively.

So, that classifies eating when not hungry... or eating beyond full - as an addiction.  (as well as lots of other things I'm sure).

This has been a struggle for me lately.  When it is cold, raining, and I'm bored and feeling a bit sorry for myself - I eat.  That's how I got so large in the first place.  I ate when I was stressed and feeling emotional - to help me feel better.  So I'm back to square one and if I don't sort it out, it will get out of control.

But here is the raw truth to how I have got to where I am right now.... (where I am being a healthy weight for my height)

1) I admitted that I had a problem.  In fact, I am the problem.

2) I stopped blaming everything and everyone else for my situation.

3) I recognised that to change my life and my future, with God's help, only I could do that.  I could not change it for anyone else, not for my hubby, not for my kids, not for anyone else... for me.

4) I recognised that the problem was 'bigger than me' and that I needed HIS help EVERYDAY.

5) I saw what I was, and I saw that if I continued, I would not be able to run around with my children, to play with them like I wanted to, and that I couldn't give them the future I dreamed of.

6) I recognised the example I was setting for them

7) I decided to do it, and I did it.

I don't necessarily think there is any one way of achieving weight loss.  I have a method, and it works.  I know it would work for anyone, but not everyone can apply the same degree of dedication and restriction that I do in order to achieve results.  But I think, what it truly boils down to, is that when we see and recognise that it is me and my problem, we can actually deal with it if we want to.

I'm not going to look over my shoulder and hope that someone will come knocking on my door with an ounce  (or tonne) of motivation... for any area of my life.  Though accountability works, hence my straight up post.

I had to face huge emotional hurdles to be where I am today.  I had to face up to myself, to issues with other people that I had bottled up and locked away inside me.  To excuses I had to be how I was.  I had to replace my addiction to food with something else for the times when I felt sad/bored/lonely/whatever it may be.

I replaced it by 'being' with Jesus.  You might think I'm a freak.  And frankly, I don't care anymore.  Because I know He is alive and real and He is the only one who has the power to give us victory that lasts forever.

I am honest about life and my struggles.  That is how I am made to be.  That is how He made me to be.

When I 'be' with Him, the problems of life, what people say and do to me, the lonely feelings, the boredom and whatever else - well, it melts away.  It doesn't matter so much when I'm with Him.  And when I leave my 'being with' Him... they still don't matter so much...  I don't live a blissful life where problems are non-existant and I am not so thick skinned that what people say and do just wash off me...  in fact, I feel things incredibly deeply.  But I have learned to take those things to the only one who can wash them off me and make me new again.  And I have learned that by talking about them, and honestly communicating about them, I am made more free and others are given a taste of what can be available.

I am the first to admit - I do not have the victory over food that I want.... Yet.  I want to be at a place that when I am feeling low and bingey or craving, that I don't bake something and eat half of what I made for lunch.... instead of lunch.... or in addition to lunch.  Where I am satisfied by what I eat and I enjoy the extras.  Life is not made to not enjoy food.  I don't think that living a rigid life of plain, boring and healthy food forever and never letting a morsel of goodness pass the lips would work for many people... it certainly wouldn't for me.  I love chocolate, and sugar and all the good stuff.

But I'm in pursuit of a victory that leaves me satisfied.  That suddenly goes, hey, I'm feeling a bit low today - I'll go be with Jesus for a while and then I'll be ok.  

Or, I'll bake for my family, and I will be able to open the fridge or cupboard and not have to eat some of the baking every time.

I once heard someone say that being an overcomer is where in a battle, you win at least 51% of the time.  I think that's a good starting place to aim for.  That's where I'm going to aim.

So, today, instead of hiding from your battle, why don't you choose for yourself that you will 'opt in' to a life of freedom.  See, I want to be free.  I want to live in freedom so badly and not be swayed by all the earthly things.  Living from the perspective of heaven is so much better.

It means that we get just a bit real about life, about our battles and all that stuff.  We get real with ourselves, we get real with others, and most importantly, we get real with Jesus.  (who already knows ALL of your issues anyway).

Take your battle, and try 'being' with Him.  I promise you it will change your life.

xx

Welcome twenty twelve....

"You crown the year with a bountiful harvest; even the hard pathways overflow with abundance.  The wilderness becomes a lush pasture, and the hillsides blossom with joy.  The meadows are clothed with flocks of sheep, and the valleys are carpeted with grain.  They all shout and sing for joy!"  - ps 65.11-13


This scripture, God made alive to me in 2010.  I've come to realise that when it comes to the end of one year, you can look back - and see the harvest in the difficulties.  When you come through the challenges, and have a bit of time to 'recover' - you can see God's goodness and His hand there, while you were struggling.


Things don't always look like what we expect.  Sometimes we have a sort-of imprint in our minds of what 'abundance, lush pastures, joy, flocks of sheep and carpets of grain' look like.  


After 2011, I found myself waiting for this amazing 'harvest' to arrive near the end of the year... only to discover, the harvest happened through the year.  The greatest harvest was in my heart.


I leave 2011 knowing Him in ways I never would have before.  Knowing He sits with those battling death, and never leaves.  Knowing he is literally with you in every circumstance.  Knowing He wills people to live more than we ever could.  Knowing that He alone governs our breathing, our living, and our dying.  Knowing He is the Healer.  Knowing that He restores relationships.  I have found myself challenged in some of the fundamentals of my faith, and leaving with a new 'knowing' in my heart that there is no other that I would rather rest my life upon - than the One who holds life together.


There were other harvests - some of those being the help that was extended to us through the difficulties - practical, emotional and spiritual help.  Prayers, meals, help at home, help with childcare, conversations, listening ears, love and support in SO many other ways.  Harvests in relationships with others...  Sometimes its not until you go through difficulty that you realise the great things God has put in and around your life.


I've come to appreciate 2011 and each challenge.


I must say, I have great anticipation for 2012 in my heart - I am SURE that there will be fulfilments of some of the promises that we (and many others) have only longed for or dreamed of.  I believe there is a harvest that follows faithfulness.  God is good and is worthy of serving with everything you have.  I know no-one greater and want for no other.


Happy 2012 everyone.  May it truly be crowned with the goodness of God and a harvest that is visible to you for your life.

Smile a little.... or laugh - a lot

As I sit here in my quiet household, enjoying a hot cup of coffee & a carrot muffin, in perfect peace (for an hour or so anyway) - I thought I'd just have a random ramble.... because today, for once, I have time.

Life has been fast paced lately.

A lot is about to change.

For the first time - I confessed to my hubby the other night - that I can't wait for Christmas to be over.

It's not Christmas' fault.  It's actually more like this - I can't wait for all the busy schedules, (you know them... playcentre, school concerts, parades, church concerts, work functions, church functions, family functions....) that run around this time of year to be over and for us to just have a break.  A relax. A full-stop - for the 2 weeks or so that the hubster gets off work.

Now its actually not going to be a full-stop.  Because in that time we will be moving house & farewelling my in-laws on a long anticipated OE slash a whole lot of other stuff.  Suddenly it has sunk in that they are leaving us.  For a good portion of the year.  That's quite a big deal.

In the mix, we are selling our house - in potentially the worst market that has existed here in a long time.  If we don't sell, we are tenant hunting.  I'm a bit anti-rentals, but with each passing week and empty open home, we're heading for landlord direction at full steam ahead.  I'm more open to the idea now.... I guess I have to be.

I'm quite aware that God is totally able to do this!!  It's just walking it out, step by step.... it's weird, knowing the next step - but not knowing how the previous step ends, or the one following.... I guess that's why they call it a walk of faith. Watch this space.

Meanwhile, Princess Adelaide is moving on too.  She's such a sensitive little poppet and every 'new' thing has to be done at snail pace.  Or perhaps, partly, HER pace., which is my SNAIL pace.  I'm not sure whether this is her daddy's determined streak coming out (which she has demonstrated since birth), or whether it is genuine need of 'slowness'.  Anyway, I finally forced convinced her, into her big bed.

How did I do this?  Well, I think God answered my prayers (Mr John is about 3cm from the top of his bassinet) - and gave me a creative idea.  I removed the up/down side of her cot, and put it against her prettied up big bed.  I secured it with string (Kiwi ingenuity).  When she came to get ready for bed that night, I gave her the choice - cot with no bar, or big bed with bar.... I was 95% sure she'd choose the bar.  She did.  Success to me!  She still cried for her cot for a few nights, but this was easily fixed by removing the sheets and being firm.  Now she climbs into big bed and settles no trouble at all.

Hopefully I have the same success when I take the bar down!

Actually, the first night in her big bed, she got out and was playing happily in her room for a while.  At about 9pm I hear a whimpering cry.  I went in, and here she was, in the dark, lost.  She'd got out to play and didn't climb back in before dark - so she was lost in her room. *cute*

While moving forward, she has also started potty training.  We were all sweet and making very few mistakes, until the 'potty' started to "hurt her bum".  So we bought a new one.  Then she chose the old one.  *grit teeth*

Suddenly though, she decided that she needed to "go wee's" all the time.  So she'd sit on the potty for an hour or more at a stretch, with no wee, but REFUSING to get off - because she needed to go.  We went to playcentre, and in the 3 hours we were there, she honestly spent about 20 minutes NOT on the potty.  I wiped my brow and breathed a great sigh of relief when her wee finally came out of hiding.

To add to this, my wee girl, when stressed, won't do number 2's.  Apparently this is quite a common occurance amongst children.  (she has been medically checked etc).  Anyway, she hadn't gone for a while, so when it came time for her to desperately need to go - she SCREAMED the neighbourhood down - trying not to go.  So you can imagine, her periodically screaming blue murder every 10 to 20 minutes ALL afternoon & night - because she didn't want to go.

Mr John was teething and cranky as.  In fact, the same day - he cried, non-stop for 3 hours.  I kept my cool ALL DAY.  What an achievement.  Grace from heaven I tell you.

So, I announced to hubster that night, that we were quitting the toilet training for a bit.  And there it ended.  A whole day passed (and once number 2's had come) my wee girl turned back into her usual, mostly happy self.

Then today arrived.  Suddenly she has decided that her pull-ups will LEAK if she wees in them (not that I mind so much), so instead, she wants to go wees.... wait for it, in the BATH.

She feels safe in the bath, and I don't mind so much.  Only that, not everyone has a bath - and some people may not like me saying "erm, excuse me, may I borrow your bath - for my kid to do a wee".  She has excellent control though, may I say, and even held on in the car for 5-10 minutes while we drove to my grandmother's house and erm, borrowed her bath.  Thankfully she is a great advocate in children being toilet trained (she did 6 of them) and so didn't mind one bit.

Miss Adelaide used her bath 3 times.

OK so I don't know how to move forward from here - but I just have to take a chill pill and deal with it, one wee at a time.

I hope you are laughing.  Cause honestly, I could have cried.

What is up with this child rearing thing anyway?  The rate that we parent's often want to pull our hair out, I'm surprised that not more of us are balding.  But for some reason (hopefully other than character development), God gave us these precious bundles, wrapped up in mooshy exteriors, to feed & clothe & somehow rear into individuals who are well rounded, great charactered adults who live their dreams and do amazing things.  *and hopefully raise some of their own 'precious bundles' - that way I can snicker at my kid's parenting woes, be a great support and help them out often.*

Last night I told my in-laws that I don't know how people have four kids.... I think I say something similar when in labour...

But, in the midst of this hilarious adventure (I'm an optimist), there is something truly beautiful happening.  The world is an ever-changing place, and though it may seem like at times, it's ever changing for worse, I have to confess - that I believe we are heading for things that people have only dreamed about in years gone by.  Amazing, good and breath-taking things.  The world as we know it, is changing.

Perhaps in all our difficulties of parenting and life in general, we forget that we are fighting for a generation who will live and do extraordinary things.  Hopefully we will do that, but our kids should only surpass the greatness we achieve.

Take a moment to put aside the challenges you have faced this year, and are facing right now - and dream a little.

Now, I'm looking forward to Christmas.

Well, until next time - by the way -

can I borrow your bath?

xx

Mother in Laws.....

Today, I'm going to attempt the surface on a very difficult (and large) topic.

Mum in-laws (MIL)

We often hear in society a whole lot of jokes around this topic.  Has anyone noticed that the jokes are usually ALWAYS about the husband's relationship with his mum in law (his wife's mother) - and how "terrible" she is or similar?

You don't hear much about the often difficult relationship that a wife has with her mum in law (her husband's mother).

Guys - don't stop reading.  This is valuable to you - and there are tips at the bottom for you too!

What qualifies me to talk about this topic you ask?

1. I am a wife of almost four years
2. My mother in law and I have not always seen eye to eye
3. I believe there is more to the daughter/mother in law relationship than an ongoing struggle or battle for the affections of the MIM (male in the middle), than regular offending and never really talking things out.
4. My own mother has set a good example in this area.

The family I married into.... :D

Before I go on, I must tell you what my relationship with my MIL is now.  I love her.  Almost to the degree that I love my own mother.  I have confided in her on numerous occasions, and gone to her when I couldn't even tell my own mum things.  We openly share things from our hearts, we talk about marriage, about children, about life struggles.  We see each other on the same page.  We help each other.  She is my best teacher on how to bottle/preserve/save money with meals and conventional old fashioned house-wifey things.  We have prioritised seeing each other (without the hubster) at least once a week for a few hours - and this is truly one of the highlights of my week.  She is a beautiful woman. 

Disclaimer: there are two (or more) sides to every story.  This is only my version.  My MIL has a story too - and I'm sure I have done and said many things in which she too, has had to "hold her breath" (you will later discover what I mean).


My story:
My MIL raised four children, my husband, being the oldest.  She was a protective mother (who isn't) and did an excellent job at raising children who are a real credit to her.  However, some of her parenting was done out of fear.  She feared her children all leaving her - she tried to keep them young even when they were well and truly adults in their own right.  Out of her own personal battle, she had struggled with relationships with other women - especially "strong" or what I call confident women. 

Her experience in her own marriage - was that her and her husband and their children, had most to do with her family, and very little to do with their paternal family.  She had three boys first - so the fear was only enhanced that she would "lose" her boys and have virtually nothing to do with them for their adult lives.

She got married at 32.  She had not considered that her children may marry earlier in life than this.

spot the brothers....

In the midst of the first two of her children growing older and 'leaving' home, along came me.  The first-ever girlfriend.  David (20), had an eye on me for a couple of years.


We began dating when I was 19.  It was all a bit of a whirlwind, but through a good deal of circumstances and some wise words from some close people, I was set on this man being my husband.  Everything seemed fine.  We shared dinners with his family, I got to know his grandparents etc and everything appeared to be great.

Then he proposed.

What I was absent to, was that he had not discussed this with his parents.  He grew up in a Christian home, he honoured his parents and had a good relationship with his mum.  But he did not tell them he was going to propose.

I smelt a bit of a rat upon their reaction the next day - but was none the wiser.  I also had to keep our engagement a secret for the whole day! (a very difficult task for me!!)

Two weeks later, and for me, the very first time - I discovered that his parents were not happy with our relationship, let alone our impending marriage.  I thought they were going to ask us to break up.  All along they had not been happy, and they had discussed this with David on numerous occasions without my presence - and were finally telling me now they were getting desperate.

My 'new' family.....

There were reasons for this - the ones that stick out from memory are:

• David is a soft young man, very reserved and quiet
• You are a strong young woman.  (maybe too strong for him)
• David is not displaying proper discipline at home with chores and other required things
• You appear to have a problem with submitting to authority
• Are we sure that we have been led into this relationship?

Some of these are likely to be very valid reasons for their reservations.  All I could do was sit and cry.  It seemed they had seen people in times past, feel like a particular person was "the one" - only to be wrong.  In the particular example - three times. This lady had bossed around her husband(s) and told them what she was saying was right etc etc.  I was "very similar" to this particular woman, and therefore, I was put into the same box as she.

I was devastated.  I felt so misunderstood.  I felt like I had not even been given a chance because I was put in some box before they even gave me a chance.  Their observations were based on what they saw - not on my story, my life experience or any such matters.

We were allowed to stay together and work towards a resolution.

I had a long, very hard think about the whole situation.  I thought about how we had conducted our relationship, and how it would feel as a parent - not even knowing your own son was going to propose.  I felt wronged, but knew that I had a part in working it out.

I plucked up a LARGE amount of courage, and asked my MIL out for lunch.  There, through tears, I apologised.  I said sorry - mainly - for not honouring them in our relationship like we should have.  I went on to explain how I had felt when they told me they were not happy.  That I felt I was not "good enough" for them - and how painful this experience was.  We had a big talk about submission as a Christian wife - and for the first time, discovered we actually thought the same about many things.

We also (with their blessing) undertook an excellent pre-marriage course.  2 1/2 months after we were engaged, we received his parents full and total blessing to get married.  (I cried some more). We set a date, and on rolled the plans.

6/10/2007 we got married.  This was not the end of the journey.

Within our first week home, my new parents-in-law visited our home, unannounced, 4 nights.  This was usually to 'deliver mail'. 

My new husband went to borrow some tools from his dad, and came home upset - because there was an argument about finances and an investment opportunity he had briefly (and unwisely) mentioned to me at their house.  This had ended in both being hot under the collar with each other.

On another occasion, there was another argument of some sort (I can't remember what over) between them.

My MIL would agree, that of all her children Dave was the one who 'talked' to her.  He now had this new woman whom he shared EVERYTHING with, and no longer shared much of importance with his mum.  In an attempt to "communicate" with him, she had gone into territory that was ours.


What a difficult journey for a mum - to pour into their child for 20 odd years, and then have to let them completely go to some other woman.  No wonder this MIL/DIL thing is so tricky.

Being a confident (and sometimes fiesty) young lass, this "stepping into our business" really rubbed me up the wrong way.  I was hot under the collar myself and ready to step in with a piece of my mind.  But I held my breath.

Holding your breath as a daughter in law is one of the greatest and most difficult assets you can have.

I had just read a book - "The Mother in Law Dance" - and it was excellent in getting me to think about how my MIL was feeling in this whole matter.  She was learning how to be a MIL.  I was learning how to be a DIL.

I had another long, hard think.

And suddenly I realised the fears and apprehensions that my MIL was feeling in relation to us.  She was trying to hold on for dear life to her son - for fear of us not having anything much to do with her as life went on.  Based on her experiences - in my opinion, this was a fair enough response.

What did I do?

I wrote a long, detailed letter to my MIL.  I thanked her for the amazing job she did raising her son.  I told her that his qualities were a credit to her.  I honoured her for the sacrifices she had made to raise him.  I told her that he would ALWAYS be her son, and that I was not here to "STEAL" him from her (I actually said that).  I also told her that I longed to have a good relationship with her in the years to come.  I honoured her as the future grandmother of my children - and told her that I needed her help to raise them.  I made a commitment to her.

What happened?

I received a card and a note as a reply.  In it, were the short, but very powerful words "welcome to the family".

How is it now?

Now I am not saying that it has always been plain sailing since then.  But her and I do have a relationship that is unlike many other MIL/DIL relationships I know.  It is one of honour - to whom honour is owed.  She deserves honour - for who she is and has been for my husband.  And even more, now, who she is for me.

We talk through mishaps.  We can be honest with each other - without feeling judged.

In the last few years there have been apologies, and open communication about this whole experience.  They have even told me how pleased and how perfect I am for their son - and how much of a blessing I am to them.

Their 'soft' son - is actually one of the strongest, most stubborn people I know - in a quiet way. In our marriage - he has gone from being shy, quiet and reserved - to almost the opposite.  He is still an introvert by nature - but in his words "shyness is a curse" and he longs to influence people.  When you get him going - he talks more than I do.  It's not too hard to get him started.  He enjoys being up the front - when I married him, he faded into the background.

never before seen pic - I felt like he was posing to pee on my head...

Tips and random things to glean from my experience:

Guys:

1. always side with your wife
2. always stand up for your wife
3. don't bring up or even mention personal issues in front of your parents - finances/parenting etc.
4. CALL your MUM!  It is ok to do this every now and again - don't leave it up to your wife to manage your relationship with your mum.
5. Love your mother and honour her - but put boundaries in place if need be.

Ladies:

1. Truly honour your MIL for raising your husband.  Even if you don't think she did a good job - she still gave birth to the guy, whom you now love.
2. Decide you want to have a good relationship with your MIL.
3. Make an effort to let her be a critical part of your children's lives - they will love you for it (and so will she)
4. Talk to her - she is a woman - she has raised children and has had many experiences that can help you.
5. Hold your breath (refer above ^^)
6. She is not trying or meaning to offend you
7. Read good books on the matter if it's a struggle.
8. Speak with your husband if things are a bit much, and have him put the boundaries in place.

One day, I might just do a tips for mum-in-laws - but I'm not one, so don't feel qualified for that just yet.  ;-)

x