Misconceptions about Mormons: Sleeveless shirts

While we’re on the subject of dress and grooming, I’d like to talk about modesty for a bit. Not being a man, I haven’t had to field too many questions about not wearing facial hair, but I have gotten questions in the past about why none of my shirts or dresses are sleeveless. In our church, we place a great deal of value on modesty, believing that our bodies are sacred gifts from God and that we should care for and respect them. We also recognize that the way we dress can affect the way we act and the way others act toward us. So we don’t wear clothes that are low-cut or super tight or see-through because of the influence those kinds of clothes can have. Just as most people don’t want their little girls parading around in skimpy clothing to be leered at and ogled (I’ve never heard anyone complain that child pornography laws are too strict!), we don’t think God wants that for any of His children.

Now, going back to the question of sleeves, I admit that I’ve seen sleeveless shirts that I would say are pretty modest. Just the arms are showing. So why can’t we wear that?  This is just my opinion that I have reached after thinking about my own life and my commitment to following the dress and grooming standards of my church. I think that by saying, “Avoid sleeveless shirts and dresses,” we are setting a clear boundary to follow.  Trying to be too specific about what to avoid often invites people to look for gaps. “Oh, they said no strapless, but this has spaghetti straps, so it’s okay,” for example.

Ultimately, we want people to be able to make good decisions about their own modesty because they value their bodies. We don’t want to give a 5,000-item laundry list of things people can and can’t wear. So we teach principles, such as respect for our bodies, and give guidelines to help people understand how to live those principles. By avoiding sleeveless shirts, I am also avoiding other clothing that fails to reflect the way I feel about my body or the gratitude I feel to God for this gift.

Misconceptions about Mormons: Facial Hair

Last week, I was with a group of friends and family when one of them asked if it was true that Mormon men are not allowed to have beards or mustaches. A few jokes were made (of course; I mean, beards and mustaches are always ripe for a mocking), but then I said, “Ok, wait, just for the record, does everyone understand that that is NOT a real thing? There’s no actual ban on beards and mustaches for Mormon men?” And I actually heard a few say, “Oh, really?” Yes, really. Mormon men are not prohibited from wearing facial hair. (Neither are the women, if you want to be technical about it.)

So let’s talk about where this idea might have come from. It’s true that full-time missionaries and BYU/BYU-I students are prohibited from wearing facial hair as part of their dress codes. But the general population of the Church is simply asked to look neat, clean, and modest in appearance. Many men therefore avoid facial hair, believing that a clean-shaven look is…well…cleaner. (A belief I share, by the way. Facial hair is gross.) Plus, it seems like these days, often beards, goatees, mustaches, soul patches, etc are worn by those trying to make some sort of anti-conformist or rebellious statements, which also doesn’t fit with the idea of being neat or respectable in appearance. So, many of our men just avoid them.

Misconceptions about Mormons: "Mormon"

To get this series started, I'm going with something very basic. For the record, the term "Mormon Church" is just a nickname that other people assigned us long ago. The actual name of our church is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We believe it is Christ's church, so we feel pretty strongly that His name should be in there somewhere!

Misconceptions about Mormons

Last weekend I was with some friends that I've known since, basically, forever. One of them told me that recently she had a co-worker who was Mormon, and it was so cool because she had someone she could finally ask questions about the Church. I said, "Wait, how long have you known me??" She laughed and said it would've been weird to ask me.

So, here we go, folks. I'm just going to lay it out for you. I will not think it is weird if you ask me questions about my church. In fact, I welcome it, especially if you've heard things that you think are weird or confusing. I'm happy to explain, and if you still think it's weird after I explain, that's okay. But at least you'll have the whole story!

Feel free to ask questions in the comments section if you don't have any other way of contacting me. If you have any personal concerns about anything I say, just mention in your comment that you don't want it published.

The ICU & Me: A Series of Unfortunate Events

Previously on "Baby & Me: Our Story"...
I was admitted to the hospital with pre-eclampsia for a supposedly 6-hour stay that ended up extending into days and resulted in the delivery of my baby several weeks early by emergency C-section. Part I of our story concluded with his birth, which was one of those indescribable moments that I cannot possibly begin to describe! I can say that thinking back on it still fills me with wonder and intense joy. Now we continue...

The Black Belt and Baby went up to the NICU once my surgery was finished, and I was taken to the ICU. We had always planned on me going there for a day, no matter how my surgery went, just so I could be monitored closely in case any complications arose with my lungs. I remember that my mom and sister-in-law were in the hall waving as I was wheeled past like a very sick parade float. I also remember that my mom took pictures of me and The Black Belt, and I thought, "Oh, these pictures are going to be just awesome..." (And they are!) While I lay there in bed, my mom and The Black Belt told me about Baby and what he looked like and how he had grabbed The Black Belt's finger when he offered it. I wanted to hear every detail and listened hungrily as they told me about the baby. MY baby. Amazing.

Baby & Me: Our Story

Dear Friends,
It's been a while since I've written, and my life could hardly have changed with greater impact since my last post. As you recall, I was going along, enjoying the joys and woes of pregnancy, counting down as the weeks grew fewer and fewer till it was time for our baby to arrive!

Then I started to notice that my feet were swelling. It got worse and worse, and what I had not previously known about swollen feet is that they hurt a lot, too. I showed my doctor on a Friday in April, and he instructed me to stay off my feet all weekend to see if there was any improvement. By the next day, there was a slight improvement, but it didn't last. So I went back on Monday, and they checked my blood pressure. Then they checked again. Then they had me sit quietly for a while, and they checked again. The third check earned me a fast-pass ticket to the hospital. My doctor said I'd go for 6 hours to see if being on bed rest there brought it down, and if it didn't, I'd have to stay overnight. I wasn't happy about the prospect of staying at the hospital, but surely things wouldn't come to that, I thought, so I went to the hospital and checked in without running home to get anything or take care of any business that needed attention. The Black Belt joined me, and soon my doctor arrived (he walked in right as I was coming out of the bathroom, of all the timing...) to tell me that my blood pressure was still high, so I needed to stay. I was okay with that until they brought me dinner. Wow. Talk about embracing sterotypes. Hospital food really does suck!

Anyway, just so this story isn't 18 pages long, I will tell you that it was a rough night, with The Black Belt sleeping on the lousy pull-out chair and me with the blood pressure cuff going off every hour and nurses coming in to make sure I was still alive, or whatever they were doing. Amazingly enough, this did NOT bring down my blood pressure, so the verdict was that I for sure had pre-eclampsia; I was going to stay at the hospital; and we were going to have to start preparing for the possibility of delivering the baby.

How Can I Help You? But Not Really.

Can someone please explain to me the POINT of an answering service? I have encountered several of them through various doctors and medical offices. Each time one answers my call, they say, "Such-and-such's office, how can I help you?" I tell them what I need. And then they say, in an almost exasperated tone, "Well, this is just an answering service. The office isn't open right now, so you'll need to call back when they are."

So WHY are they there? One might say, "Because that way, when customers call, they don't get voicemail or no answer." But if the result of speaking with an answering service is the exact same result I would get from no answer whatsoever, then I ask again--what is the point of an answering service??

We Know Pregnant Ladies are Crazy, but Still...

I don't think anyone will argue against the claim that pregnant ladies are crazy. I learned this at my old job, where, at any given time, about a quarter of the staff was pregnant. So...fun.... Not only can pregnant ladies not talk about anything but being pregnant, but they think that everyone wants to HEAR about being pregnant as well! In great detail! If you don't think this is crazy, tell me this--would YOU go around describing the appearance of your, shall we say "personal anatomy," to your entire office?? (If your answer is yes, then please unfriend me on Facebook.)

Ok, so obviously pregnant ladies are nuts, but I don't think it's right that other people take advantage of that. And by "other people," I mean "people who sell baby products." I offer three real-life examples to make my case for me.

First, the Bonnie Marcus Sonogram Picture Frame from Bed, Bath, & Beyond. As you may have guessed from the title, it's a frame for your baby's ultrasound pictures. This one is particularly special because the frame is shaped so that the fetus looks like it's actually inside the lady's belly! Get it? This is definitely a keepsake. You know, since ultrasound pictures are so clear and easy to interpret, and because once the baby's here, you're still going to prefer looking at a black and white, staticky picture of their underdeveloped body to your newborn infant.

My second example is not a product by a specific company but an idea suggested in Babytalk Magazine (given to me by my OB/GYN). They want to help make the experience of finding out the gender of your child extra special, so they recommend having the doctor write it down in a sealed envelope. Then you should take the envelope to a bakery and have them make cupcakes with pink or blue filling, depending on the contents of the envelope. Invite all your friends over and pass out the cupcakes. Then bite into the cakes at the same time to reveal whether it's a boy or girl!

I wonder how many doctors have to practice not rolling their eyes at patients who make requests like this. Is it really more exciting to open an envelope or ...*sigh*....bite into a cupcake...than it is to actually look at your child on the screen? Shouldn't this be something two parents enjoy together privately first?

Finally, the reigning queen of Stupid Stuff Sold to Pregnant Ladies: the Morning Chicness Bag. "These bags are a stylish way to cope with nausea!" Only $8 for 10 bags, so that's not even $1 per bag! And that way, you don't have to run to the privacy of a bathroom and flush your puke down the toilet. You can vomit right there in the living room and then leave the bag out on display, since you can pick whatever style best matches your decor. "A thoughtful, practical, and unique gift!" Indeed...

I'm pretty sure that the product development meetings for these things goes something like this:
Staff Presenter: "...and so that's my idea for our new product."
Practical Coworker: "But, Jimmy, no one in their right mind would ever buy that!"
Manager: "PERFECT."

Infliction of Infertility

Dear Readers,
I'm afraid I may have alarmed you with the title of this post, so let me begin with some happy news. The Black Belt and I are expecting a baby! We are more than halfway through the pregnancy now, and we are very excited.

I wanted to write this post, though, because getting to this point wasn't what I'd call "a walk in the park," and I definitely gained new perspectives on things that I didn't even realize there might be new perspectives on! I don't know if anyone reading this needs this or not, but I felt like sharing might help someone out there in some way.

I won't force too many personal details onto you in this post, but like I said, we had to wait a long time after we decided we wanted to start a family to actually start a family. At first, I didn't think much of it, because we weren't feeling urgent about it, and I knew that these things can take time. But after several months, I couldn't deny that some things were just not right with me, so I went to the doctor. She talked to me about what plan we should take, starting with some medicine, then maybe doing a couple of different tests, and then if need be, consulting a fertility specialist.

This was my first startling experience. "Fertility drugs? Fertility specialist? But those things are just for couples struggling with infertility! We're not one of those couples! That would be way too scary and difficult. We just need help getting me straightened out so we can have a baby.........oh." Suddenly it hit me that no one really goes into life pre-labled "Couple Struggling With Infertility." I used to hear about people having treatments and taking medicines, and I didn't appreciate how unsettling and discouraging it was for them, because to me, of course they were used to it! They're a CSWI! I even remember on occasion hearing people I knew saying they had started taking fertility medicine, and I'd think, "Why? You're not a CSWI." I don't know why I was so naive about this, but I realize now that infertility is a lot more common and a lot more varying than I used to think.

After a few months, our doctor sent us to a fertility specialist, because she felt like she didn't really know what else to do for us. At first, I was resentful, because I felt like she was giving up on us, and again, that I didn't need a fertility specialist because that was too extreme for our situation. But guess what--I LOVED our new doctor. He was so knowledgable, and so at ease with everything that I couldn't help but feel confident under his care. That was a huge blessing, because here's another thing I learned to appreciate about infertility: It takes a toll.

Under this kind of treatment, you lose a little control over your own life. The schedule is very rigid, because if your body decides that today is the day that some measure needs to be taken, you can't delay it to a more convenient time. And thank goodness for a doctor who understood that and always fit me in whenever necessary! It would be awful to be told, "Sorry, we don't have any time today. You'll have to wait till next month." (Because, keep in mind, that at this point, the lack of urgency we'd been feeling was completely gone.) You started watching month after month go by and realize how quickly those months might turn into years. It's a very scary feeling. So, you HAVE to follow the schedule nature sets for you, no matter how inconvenient it is or how exhausted you are from everything you're going through.

The other thing I mean by, "It takes a toll," is that your body goes through a lot. At one time, you might be on several different medicines that are all doing crazy things to your hormones and your energy level and who knows what else. You have to go see the doctor multiple times a month and have ultrasounds and blood tests, over and over and over. All those visits and all of those unpleasant symptoms are very similar to what someone who is expecting a baby goes through--except that when you're doing it for infertility, you don't have a baby to look forward to at the end.

That brings me to what's probably the hardest thing about it all. There's no guarantee that there will ever be a baby at the end of it all. When you start a new round of drugs and have all your tests and everything again, and then you find out at the end of the month that it didn't work, it's not like, at least you made some progress. The result of not being pregnant is exactly the same as if you hadn't done any of that at all--if you hadn't put your body through the craziness and discomfort and hadn't rearranged your schedule and spent all that money and gotten your hopes up again, only to be dashed, again. You can't think, "Well, we're one step closer!" Because you might very well not be. You might go through it again and again and still be disappointed every time.

And that, dear readers, is the hardest part of it all. When you're recovering from illness or serious injury, you can look back and see the strides you've made, and look forward and see how much better you will be in time. But with infertility, you just don't know. And the only remedy that I found for that was faith in the Lord that He has a plan for me and my family and that things would happen in His own time. Now that we're on this end of it, I guess I still don't say, "I'm so glad we went through that!" but I can say, very vehemently, that I am grateful for this baby. I am grateful for the blessing of being able to carry a child, and I am grateful for the trust God is putting in us to send us one of His children.

I've heard so many ladies speak casually about, "Maybe after the school year I'll have another baby," or, "I hated being pregnant! I got so fat!" and I just want to say, "Please, please be grateful." Dear readers who are parents, please be grateful for your children. To any expectant mothers, please be grateful for those aches and pains that mean your baby is growing. To any couples dreaming and hoping for parenthood, use this time to enjoy each other. Enjoy being a family of two. And remember that God knows you and loves you and will never leave you alone.

That Time I Acted Like a Presidential Candidate

I watched the first presidential debate this week. (I know, right? Good for me!) I'm a proud Mitt Romney supporter, and I was delighted by how well he did. I loved his answer for how he views the role of government in America. Good job, Mitt!

I do think it's amusing, though, to note the tactics all debaters use to make sure they get to say what they want to say. When I saw either candidate employ any such techniques (and they both did), I had to laugh. Since I seem to rarely miss opportunities to criticize, you'd think I'd seize this one instead of laugh. But I had a memory of a night long ago in graduate school, and I realized that presidential candidates aren't the only ones who can do it!

Moral Responsibility, in 16 oz or Less

Recently New York City passed a rule that bans restaurants from selling sugary drinks in large containers. There have been some surprisingly strong reactions supporting and opposing the ban. Those in support say that we are facing a health crisis with more and more people (including, and most alarmingly, children) developing obesity and diabetes, so this effort to limit a major contributor to those conditions is much needed. Opponents say, “It's sad that the board wants to limit our choices” (Liz Berman, a business owner and chairwoman of New Yorkers for Beverage Choices).

I will admit that when the story first flashed through my brain, I had similar thoughts as Ms. Berman, or at least, I thought it was weird to regulate something like soda. However…what the supporters of this rule say is true. I can't argue with the fact that soda is full of sugar and empty calories, both of which can and do wreak havoc on our health. So the real question is, should the government be responsible for controlling our intake? Ms. Berman’s answer to that is, “We are smart enough to make our own decisions about what to eat and drink.”

At first I didn’t care so much about this issue. I don’t like soda much anyway. But now that I’ve read that claim—that we are smart enough to make our own decisions—NOW I care.

Maturity Ever Faileth

As preposterous at it seems, in some ways, I am technically what they call "a grown-up." I don't see how, really, after being the youngest at everything my whole life. But now that children I used to babysit are married and have their own children, I'm starting to have that sinking feeling that it's true.

Monologuing

Recently, I looked down and discovered an ant crawling across my foot. Here's what I did not do:

I did not laugh meniacally and tell it I had been wondering when it would show up.
I did not tell it what kind of security I had set up and warn it that attempting to escape was futile.
I did not describe exactly how I was going to bring about its demise.
I did not describe how much I would enjoy bringing about its demise.
I did not list the grievances I had against it.
I did not list grievances I had against others that had nothing to do with it but still made me mad.

Instead, I just killed it.

The Inevitable End

Maybe it's just my perception, but it seems like there aren't a lot of single volume stories written these days. All of the popular books that I can think of right now come in series: Harry Potter, The Hunger Games,...that one with the vampires, which we did not read but is an example of a book series... And every time we get involved with one, it takes over our lives. For example, when The Black Belt and I finally gave in to peer pressure and read the Fablehaven series, we ended up practically withdrawing from society in our zeal to reach the conclusion. As soon as he got home from work, we'd pick up where we'd left off the night before until dinner so rudely interrupted by being ready to be eaten, and then we'd read more before bed, where I'd fuss at The Black Belt for going to sleep before we found out what happened next. I kept the whole series on reserve at the library so that as soon as we finished one book, we could move onto the next, making my trips to the library a multi-weekly occurrence. We just didn't want to stop.

But the problem with reading at such a breakneck speed is that before you know it, you're done. The suspense is over, you know what happens, and then you don't have anything else to read. I HATE that.

Letters from Duchess and the Duchess

Yesterday I got something in the mail from my old roommate, Duchess. We usually email or text, so getting mail from her is an uncommon occurrence. However, what made that day's mail quite remarkable was that I also got mail from another Duchess--The Duchess of Cambridge, to be precise.

The Off-Campus Campus Shooting

The shooting referred to in my previous post has caused a bit of a media circus in our area, not surprisingly. But I was a little surprised to hear from people in other states who had just heard the news. Then I realized why this news was spreading across the country. The news media is callling it a "campus shooting" and "the [name of university] shooting." Without a doubt, this evokes memories of Virginia Tech or any other campus tragedy where gunmen have chased down victims and terrorized schools. And considering the similar tragedy that occurred recently at a movie theater, such events are big news right now.

Clearly, the news media is taking full advantage of that. By calling it a campus shooting, who wouldn't see that and immediately go to the story to find out the details of this most recent massacre? Fortunately, and unsuprisingly, the media headline is not QUITE accurate.

We Are Okay

Dear friends,
Many of you seem to have heard recently that there was a shooting near the university where my husband works. We both appreciate your calls and emails, seeking reassurance that we are okay. For the record, we are okay.

I'm a Mormon. I Believe in the Bible.

I think some people are under the impression that, as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (or "Mormon," as we have been nicknamed), I do not read the Bible. I'm sorry, but this is completely incorrect. I do read the Bible. I read it every day, actually. (In case you're curious, this morning I read 2 Chronicles chapters 31 and 32.) I believe it is a record of ancient prophets and of the life of Christ and His apostles when they were on the earth.

I also believe in the Book of Mormon, and I think that's where the confusion sets in. Members of this church do not believe in one at the exclusion of the other. We believe that the Book of Mormon is ANOTHER testament of Christ (that's the subtitle, in fact). This book is also a record of ancient prophets. It starts by telling the story of a prophet named Lehi who lived in Jerusalem during the reign of King Zedekiah. Remember when Zedekiah was captured and Jerusalem was destroyed by the Babylonians? Well, Lehi, being a prophet, was warned by God that this was going to happen and told to take his family and flee. They escaped to a new land, which we believe was what we now call the Americas. The Book of Mormon is a record of the prophets and people on this continent.  It was not written after the Bible; just in a different part of the world, by the "other sheep I have which are not of this fold," mentioned in John 10:16.

I'll close with a verse from the Book of Mormon, explaining how we view both books. "For behold, this (the Book of Mormon) is written for the intent that ye may believe that (the Bible); and if ye believe that (Bible) ye will believe this (Book of Mormon) also; and if ye believe this (Book of Mormon) ye will know concerning your fathers, and also the marvelous works which were wrought by the power of God among them" (Mormon 9:7).

I'm a Mormon. What Do I Really Believe?

You may have noticed that there has been a lot in the news lately about the "Mormon" Church (actually named The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints), its beliefs, its members, etc. I appreciate it when news writers make an effort to report accurate information and even show respect for the people they write about. I understand, though, that when it comes to spiritual matters, those looking through a secular lense may not quite understand what they think they know, and thus, while they are reporting as accurately as they can, the information comes out confused or even untrue.

So the first thing I'd like to say is that if any of you, my friends and readers, come across stories about my church that are hard to understand or seem to paint a negative picture of my beliefs and practices, I hope you will come to me and ask questions. Just as you can't always take for truth headlines about celebritites' marital problems, wild behaviors, and troubled lives, you can't always get the whole picture from an article about us.

The second thing I'd like to share is probably the most important thing for you to know about my beliefs. I do believe in Jesus Christ. I believe He is the Son of God and that He was born, lived, died on the cross, and was resurrected on the third day. I believe that He atoned for our sins so that we can repent and be forgiven. I believe that He is the head of our Church. We are not led by men, but by the Savior Himself. So, in case you have wondered if I am a Christian, let me answer that as clearly as I can: Yes. I absolutely am.

A Sad Story about Yogurt

When I go to the grocery store, I always buy yogurt to put in The Black Belt's lunches. It used to be $.50, and then it went to $.60. Now it's $.66. Bah. And that's not even the sad story!