Follow-up to My Reproduction Rant

I have a few questions for my readers. This is new to me, since my readers don't usually post comments, and I haven't really ever asked pointed questions to encourage you to do so. The first question actually has to do with comments, and it may be one reason why I don't see many!

Does anyone have trouble commenting on my blog? I have the comments moderated, meaning that you won't see your comment right away (or sometimes at all, if I reply by e-mail), but the problem I'm hearing about is one regarding the word verification. If you have a problem commenting, please e-mail me so I can try to get it fixed (sarah at thecowarts dot org). I'm just trying to figure out if it's on my end or not.

My other question has to do with an e-mail I received today, regarding mostly the last four paragraphs of a post I did last week on pregnancy and miscarriage. Apparently, my opinion is not the only one out there :). I'd like to share another person's perspective and ask you, readers, to weigh in and tell me where you stand. My guess is that most of you will not feel as strongly as either of us. But surely you have an opinion! I think it would be educational to have a candid discussion on this, since it is not a subject openly discussed (at least in my circles).

Here is the other side (and I quote):

"I guess I am strongly opinionated in the other direction. I love people to ask if I am pregnant and I love to ask others, not that I can't wait for them to tell me, I just love the conversation of pregnancy, birth-control, sex, etc. I also believe in telling people that you are pregnant right away, God rejoices in that baby the moment it is conceived why shouldn't everybody rejoice in that baby as well, even if it is only for 6 weeks? Also, having had 6 miscarriages, I can tell you from my perspective that it is better people know... I am sure many do not feel this way, but it was harder for me that people did not know that I loss that precious one, because I wanted to talk about it, but no one knew to ask. It is harder to be comforted or to even grieve when you have to tell someone "oh by the way I was pregnant and I lost it and that is why I am depressed." Certainly, there will be those with careless words, but more often then not when someone asks how your pregnancy is and you tell them you lost it, they give you a hug, tell you they are sorry, and maybe that they will pray for you. That is far more comforting then not having anyone ask about the child you love and you lost without anyone knowing."

I have my take on this, what's your take, readers? Do you consider "Are you pregnant?" acceptable or inapropriate? Or does it depend on who's asking? And what of announcing pregnancy early and possible miscarriage? Does anyone feel the same way I do, or this reader does? I understand this to be a delicate issue, and realize that people may not feel free to comment as themselves, per se. I encourage you to comment anonomously, if it means you'll comment, as opposed to not! And if you'd rather e-mail me, please do so (but keep in mind that others may be helped by your perspective, so commenting may be better). Please, share your thoughts!

Reproduction Thoughts

A recent post, which touched on a subject that Casey and I have discussed often since Haley was born, did not include much of what I had originally written. At the time, I was feeling very guilty and subsequently vulnerable, and decided to tone down my whiny and complainy post by deleting some of the information.

However, I think what I ended up communicating in that post may have been that we do not desire to have more children or that a pending decision on this subject is based solely on what we are experiencing right now. Let me clarify that neither is the case. In fact, we continue to do what we have since the beginning of our marriage. (Family planners, brace yourselves!) We have never tried or tried not to get pregnant. It works well for us, and I can honestly say that the supposedly typical fear of a woman doesn't even cross my mind: "What if I get pregnant?!" The only exception is once soon after Haley was born, and almost as soon as I thought it, I dismissed it.

It is not that we don't know "what causes this" or that we think, "Eh, it won't happen." We see in Scripture that God is the one who opens and closes the womb, and He has shown Himself faithful to us in this way. By purely scientific standards, I should be having babies about every 10 months, meaning we should be due with our seventh baby about now!

When Casey and I discuss reproduction nowadays, it is usually to share our current thoughts and feelings, not to plan or decide anything. Truth be told, if we had found out we were pregnant last month, it would have been a comfort (a reason for why I was feeling quite overwhelmed) as well as a sobering thought for the work that lies ahead (and I'm not talking labor. If it were just about giving birth, I'd gladly have another half-dozen babies.).

Anyway, we continue to do what we always have, and I actually find much comfort in it. Every month that I get my cycle back I see more as a gift from God than I would if we were somehow trying to prevent pregnancy. It would be more of an assumption: "Of course we aren't pregnant. We're not trying to be." And conversely, each time we've discovered we were pregnant, we have been overjoyed by the gift God gave us. We could have worried when we didn't get pregnant for over a year after we were married, fretted over our "infertility" struggles, and become saddened by the news of other's pregnancies and our desire for a child. (I use the term infertility facetiously. There are actually people who refer to something quantified in months as "infertility!" I can't imagine what a slap in the face it is to anyone who has truly struggled with it.) But we saw it as a true blessing that God gave us that time alone with one another. We never thought in terms of "not being able" to get pregnant, and it was healthier for mind, body and soul to not go down that path, in my opinion.

So here we are, on the other side of the spectrum, and I am reticent to take away, so to speak, that super personal, super obvious way that God has shown His care over the "smallest" things in our life together. Perhaps it is weird to hear it in these terms, but we really do feel extremely loved by God, and I'd hate to lose that (the feeling, I'm not saying we wouldn't be loved by Him, just that we would not see these clear examples in the same way). I guess I should say that I'm really talking to certain people here, and there are many people who would be baffled by the whole "driving without a seat belt" idea (which, if need be, I will gladly address this acutely ridiculous analogy) but I assume most people who read my blog can at least see my perspective, even if they wouldn't do it themselves.

As things are, we're taking it one baby at a time. We pray God will give us the faith to continue to trust Him. The fact is that He is always faithful and always good. If we decide to do something about it, the wavering will be on our side! Any decision we make on this subject would be based on a long list, which I won't include here, but may be good to write out at some point for our own review.

While on the subject, and while already expressing some seriously personal thoughts, I might as well get it all out there. I talk to an acquaintance every so often who, in the course of a five to ten minute conversation, asks me if I'm pregnant every time we talk. Among other things, I mention to her that we're not trying to get pregnant (hoping to infer that she doesn't need to keep asking). I consider the "are you pregnant?" question extremely personal and inappropriate, even (and perhaps more so) if someone is trying. My opinion is, when I am supposed to know, my close friend, acquaintance, or sister WILL TELL ME, and I will tell people when they are supposed to know as well! As opinionated as I am, one will not find me expressing a personal distaste for many things this forcefully. There are many things I don't care for that I will never blog about, but I feel so strongly about this, and don't mind saying so.

Early miscarriage is very common in general, and especially in my family. When I find I am pregnant, miscarriage is one of the items on the list of what to prepare myself for. In fact, in my pregnancies with both Ruby and Haley, things went on that caused me to wonder if I was miscarrying or would miscarry. I did not freak out about it or borrow trouble by worrying; it is just one of the things I see as a possibility, and am prepared to deal with it with each pregnancy. Because of this, Casey and I wait quite awhile to announce that we are pregnant. We usually try to wait the full 12 weeks that are recommended, but often are not able to, because it would require lying to people who ask, and I won't do that just to keep the secret.

I have qualms about announcing pregnancy right away for a couple reasons. Not that I have a problem with other people doing so, I am just not willing to do it. But I think I actually cringe when I hear people announce to the general public that they've just taken a pregnancy test and it was positive. I hear all the time, "We want people to pray, so we're telling them right away." The problem is, news of miscarriage doesn't seem to travel nearly as fast as news of pregnancy. I have witnessed more times than I care to remember the awkward exchange between the once-pregnant woman and the excited church member or out-of-the loop friend congratulating with much vigor. It is painful for the bystanders, let alone the congratulator and the woman. I don't want to put anyone in that position (which is why, when friends have told me they are "barely" pregnant, sometimes I'll ask general "How's it going?" questions and wait for them to bring it up again if we haven't talked in awhile, and if I've heard through the grapevine that someone is pregnant, I will wait to congratulate them until they tell me themselves).

The other reason has to do with boundaries. With a subject so personal as miscarriage, I would want to be choosy about who has such information right away. Call me weird, but there are people that I'd just as soon tell a few years down the road, as more an exchange of information, rather than an invitation to console me. A friend recently told me of her miscarriage, and mentioned during the conversation a few of the comments she had received from others (who meant well, I am certain). Do people seriously not know there are things you just *do not* say to a grieving person? Or could it be that it jumps out of their mouths before they give it a thought? Anyway, with such touchy subjects, I think it can be good to be purposeful about how much information is shared and with whom.

A Slap in the Face (Behind My Back)

This is part two of an essay I wrote last month about why I blog. Part two deals with what I blog. Like part one, this was written when I had only one blog. I hope it isn’t too confusing that I’m posting on this blog, while usually referring to another one.

I never intended for my blog to become what it has: a bunch of newsy postings on what my family has been up to. Sure, I wanted to do a LITTLE of that, but one of the most exciting reasons to blog (for me) was the chance to EXPRESS my deepest thoughts, strongest opinions and heart-felt difficulties and struggles. Things that often don’t get expressed. The problem: how to do that with an audience THAT KNOWS WHO I AM. I am disappointed that in all my posting, there is little that resembles a thought-provoking essay on a pertinent issue or a true expression of what’s going on in my mind, let alone HOW everything is going for me and my family. I wonder: if a stranger were to read my blog, would they get a true picture of me and my life? Or would they just see a bunch of “aren’t we happy?” posts and pictures?

I so often have ideas on things to blog about or thoughts I’d like to put down and really hash out, but it seems that all I end up actually doing is the occasional “this-is-what-we’re-up-to” post, something perhaps only my mother-in-law would enjoy seeing (and I only sent her a link to the blog a few weeks ago, after recognizing that was all my blog had become).

In some ways, I am disillusioned with blogging. I have read many-a-stranger’s musings and frustrations with appreciation; relating at least somewhat to what she is going through. But when it comes down to posting my own strong opinions or impressions or difficulties, I am guarded. (Perhaps I need to start an anonymous blog!)

A friend of mine once expressed an interest in blogging, but what made her not as eager to do it was the fact that when you blog, your life is out there for anyone to see. My timidity is not so much toward the generic “anyone” stranger as much as it is the “someone” that I know. So much of what I find helpful on other sites is an expression of struggle and real life difficulty that I can relate to. I just don’t know how to have a blog like that that both reflects my real life and is still sensitive to any readers I actually know personally. The only area that I feel pretty safe being totally “real” in is that of my day-to-day struggle with my children. Fast forward a decade or so, when my kids are older, and I don’t think I’d even feel comfortable expressing much of that.

And I don’t want to be the Pollyanna blogger who has a perfect life and glosses over failings and struggles, painting a picture of themselves that is (surely) far from accurate (I love to hate these blogs. I don’t have a beef with optimism; I just don’t see that it serves much of a purpose to “be” a person who doesn’t have problems. What about the rest of us? Do you have any suggestions for how we underlings can go about our lives?) The truth is that you can pretty much be anyone in blogdom: even someone that doesn’t remotely resemble the real you. I want my blog to be a true expression of me, not something that only highlights the fun or good times, or my rosiest view on something. I don’t want to share a measly, “hardly-worth-mentioning-it’s -so-small” struggle here and there only after I’m over it, either. Nor do I want to tread so lightly in an attempt to not offend that my blog loses any semblance of personality (as seems to be tempting for well-read bloggers—one of the things that makes me hope my blog remains tiny and insignificant). These are all things I don’t appreciate in other blogs, and I don’t want to do in mine.

Lest anyone (who has a blog that I read and knows me) misunderstand: I am not talking about you. I speak more generally of blogs I’ve read where (not knowing the woman personally) I get the impression that she’s hiding something amidst all the fabulous goings-on. Perhaps we all know someone like this. It is precisely what causes me to keep my distance from a person in real life. That sense I have of not being “safe” with someone, because they don’t struggle like I do. Who needs a friend like that?

In typing this, I am impressed with the realization of how much more gracious others have been. I was once very much that person who only let a small part of herself show. It is really shocking to me to think of how many people were my friend years ago when I was so incredibly guarded in many ways. I hope, but do not know, that I was just guarded: not that I put on an air of having it together. But maybe that’s what being guarded looks like either way: snobbish.

Okay, now to get on with my ungraciousness: I have been there, done that. Having been on both sides, I can say it really does nothing but make others feel like bumbling idiots if they don’t know better, and those who do just wonder, “You really think I believe that load of baloney?” I have no desire to be that super-spiritual person whose admission of weakness is just another way of showing how wonderful she is: “Well, my biggest struggle right now is that I’m not reading my Bible nearly enough. I am really tempted to stop after an hour; I’ve been on my knees about it since Thursday.” After a few decades on this earth, I have finally wised up and steer clear of these people in real life, and in no way do I want to be one of them in blogdom.

I’m sorry if I’m way out of line here, but I can’t help but wonder if homeschooling has (or at least had) this air about it in general, because now that I think of it, I don’t run into this much now that I’m so far removed from that culture. Perhaps I will begin to see it again if we decide to homeschool very long. (“You let your girls wear sequins? My lands!”) Or maybe it has to do with a public eye being trained on you. I imagine it’s fairly similar for a P.K. (No, not a promise keeper. A preacher’s kid.)

HOOO-EE! I think that’s about enough of that. What was lurking in there, anyway? I think I just crossed the line from newsy blogs to seriously opinionated and potentially offensive. A little help here?