The Proper Fit

(Public Service Warning--for my two male readers, go ahead and invite your wives to read this post, but it probably won't hold much interest for you... I certainly don't mind if you read it, but it's one of those extra-girly sorts of posts, so proceed at your own risk. ☺ )


Over Christmas break I had a professional bra fitting.

Can I just say wow, and I wish I'd done it years ago?!



For the last *ahem* years I've always carefully followed the measuring directions, and for all these years I've been getting bras that more or less fit...some more, some less... Two bras of the same size would fit differently, and I had a hard time judging how well a particular style might fit until I actually tried it on. The problem is that I wore a size that is not carried on most store racks--I have a small band but a large cup and it's difficult to find a bra in my size, let alone enough options to be able to choose the one that fits the best. For most of my life I have bought bras via catalogs because that was the only place I could find my size, and as I said, some fit, but some did not. The problem with catalog ordering of course is that if you decide to send back the bra, then you have to wait weeks to get a new one, not to mention that the new one may or may not fit any better...

Four years ago I went to Victoria's Secret and had a bra fitting there, and they told me that I had been wearing the correct size all along (but gave me some help with finding styles/fabric types that would be better for my particular breast shape). I was so proud of myself, look, I've been wearing the right size all along... They say that 80% of women wear the wrong bra size, but look at me, I wasn't one of them!

Except that I was.

I was resigned to the idea that no busty lady bra fits the way that the smaller size bras fit on the models in the pictures. I was resigned to the idea that bras simply aren't comfortable if you're busty. I accepted that busty ladies just can't get anything that really supports or really stops the bounce...

I was wrong.

In the last few months I've been introduced to a few things by a few friends. They pointed me to places like this (photos) and this (photos) and this (good explanations but no photos) which illustrate what a bad fitting bra looks like...and I realized that I had multiple symptoms of bad-fitting-bra syndrome.
Then they sent me here, and said to try fitting method 2. You see, the method that many of us have been using for measuring was developed in a time when bras were made of stiff fabrics (rather than the stretchy ones we have now). The method simply isn't accurate anymore. The correct method is to measure your ribcage under your bust, and then use that number (add 1 if it's odd), but do not add 4-5 inches! Then lean over so that your torso is parallel to the floor, and measure around your unrestrained breasts and see how far they hang. Then take the difference between those two measurements. When I re-measured with this new method, "my size" went down two band sizes and up five (five!) cup sizes.Yes, I had a small band and large cup to begin with: now that status was exponentially increased.
At this site you begin by entering the current bra size you wear, and then answer some questions about fit (where the underwire lies, how far the band pulls out, etc), and it will tell you what your correct size should be. The answer it gave me was the same as the measuring method on that last site.

Fantasie bra "jana" goes up to K cups

So then I found a boutique that actually carried my size. (It's hard to find places that carry J cups, but they do exist. Larger than G is pretty much only made in Europe so you'll have to find a place that imports. Use the methods above to get a good estimate of your size and then find a boutique that says they have that size...don't risk doing a fitting at a place that doesn't carry your size!!!)
These import stores will be expensive. There's no way around that. I tried on six different bras in my size (yes, those two sites above had given me the correct size). I also tried on a few that were one band size or cup size over, just to make sure. Of the six, only one really fit well. Even among bras from the same company, different styles fit differently. I confess this made me a little nervous about ordering additional bras online... and it's definitely a reason to get a proper in-person fitting.

I paid $68 for that bra that fit. (Yes this means I'm still wearing some that don't fit right because buying new bras is going to take a little time to afford...). $60-70+ is a pretty common price for these imported bras, however if you're a really busty person you're going to run into that same price range in most places online as well (and there will be shipping to boot). So you might as well go to a brick and mortar store where you can try things on.

Places that are good for fittings: Nordstroms, Dillards, and import boutiques.
Places that are not good for fittings: anyplace with a limited size range in stock (including Victoria Secret). Basically if they don't carry bands from 28-48, and cups from A-J (or at least A-G if you're not so busty), then don't waste your time there.

Always remember:
If anything gapes, or pokes, or bulges, then it's not a good bra for you. Period. Try a different one. Bra shopping may not seem like fun, but having the right bra can make you so much more comfortable that it's worth it to get a good one.

Finally, because I know not everyone is willing to pay those prices, and I know that not everyone HAS to pay those prices because not everyone has the sizing issues that I do, I will mention some places I like to actually buy bras. It's true, they are online/catalog sources, so yes, there is that risk of ordering a bra that doesn't fit well and needing to exchange it. However, at least for me, having a professional in-person fitting has taught me what features and fabrics to look for, as well as obviously what my correct size is. So I hope in the future I will have a lot more 'hits' and a lot fewer 'misses' even with catalog ordering. Because it's awfully hard to find my size on the rack, and when I do there aren't many choices and/or they're really expensive.

• HerRoom has an excellent style guide section where you can enter information about your breast shape and size (there are drawings, not photos to refer to) and it will give you recommendations about what styles will suit you. They also have a full range of sizes, including those good import brands. Fantasie is the brand of the bra that I liked best at the boutique. (This blog post also has some guides of what styles suit what shapes, including photos comparing.)
• Marks and Spencer is a UK store (as opposed to a US Store with european brands). You will pay a bit in shipping, however the bra prices are significantly lower than most of the import places I've seen ($30-40 rather than $60+). So in the long run I think the prices are better. They make their own products, rather than carrying other brands, however their quality is highly recommended and I plan to try them out. If you buy internationally, be sure to check the size correlations, because US sizing and UK or French sizing are all different! More info on that here.
• OneHanesPlace is an outlet catalog--wide selection of name brand regular bras, very good prices, up to DD and some F
• Lane Bryant's Cacique line of bras have some nice larger cups (although they don't go into bands smaller than 36). In bands over 40 they go up to J, though the smaller band sizes stop at G. They also routinely run "buy 2 get 2 free" sales, bringing the average price per bra down to $20 or so (if you buy 4). They carry a really wide variety of colors and styles though, which can be nice for someone wanting to stay away from the 'granny bra' look.
• Birth&Baby nursing bras (I posted about them here). Also, this site has some additional info on getting a proper size nursing bra (and has some brand recommendations).

There are several more sites out there that carry the size range imports, such as Fig Leaves or Bravissimo, however I have not checked them out yet.

God Hath Not Given Us the Spirit of Fear

Last year, on December 16, women around the world joined in wearing pants to church. I had mixed feelings about it. I supported the idea of feminists doing something instead of just talking about it, but I had been more in the mood for a letter writing campaign or something. But pants was the choice and so I supported it. I still had mixed feelings about wearing pants myself, but I decided to go with it because I remembered having felt judgmental towards pants-wearers in the past, and decided that it was worthwhile to take a conscious stance against judgmentalism. As I said then:

I have never ever worn pants to church. It so happens that I love wearing dresses and skirts, and often wear them on weekdays. I don't particularly want to wear pants to church. BUT, I will be doing so because of this experience. I will be wearing pants to church to be an example to my children that I really do believe that "the lord looketh on the heart [rather than the outward appearance]." I believe in walking the talk. Is wearing pants to church a big deal? No. Will this single event bring about any of the other changes that the All Enlisted movement is hoping for? Not really. But we hope that it will help people to take a look at themselves and their socio-cultural prejudices, and take the opportunity to practice a little non-judgment.

Wow, I had no idea what would follow. Dozens of people (family and friends and total strangers all in chorus) told me that wearing pants was a total non-issue, and that there was no point. Then they told me that I shouldn't do it because it was a point of contention and that contention is of the Devil. Aside from being confused about how pants-wearing can be simultaneously a non-issue and a point of contention, my attention came sharply into focus on two points.

1. All the contention came from outside the pants-wearing group. (This seemed to prove that it was NOT a non-issue.)
2. I was scared to wear pants to church.

Scared!! Of wearing pants!! Wow was that a realization. Especially with the knowledge that I was living in a tiny branch in rural Alaska where frankly nobody would care what I wore so long as I showed up. But I was doubly nervous about it because I was supposed to sing in church on that day, and in a congregation of 15 that meets in a room the size of a typical primary room... my pants would be as bold as could be.

But then a scripture came to mind. "God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind" (2 Timothy 1:7). I remembered that fear is the opposite of faith. I remembered the reasons why I supported this whole idea. And on Sunday, December 16, 2012, thirty miles above the Arctic Circle at -16 Fahrenheit, I wore pants to church.

The blouse had pink and purple embroidery so I had my purple too

Can you what happened? Absolutely nothing. I sang in church. In my pants. People told me how well I sang. No one said a word about the pants. Because it was a complete non-issue for all of them.

Except that it was not a non-issue for me. I practiced faith over fear, and love over judgment. And I will do it again.

Taking Up Space

I saw this today, and thought "yes, this. This is why I claim the name of feminist. Because the difference in experience matters. Because a person should not have to live in fear or pain simply by virtue of what's between their legs. Because a life lived in fear is a life half-lived."




Also, although I very much see this happening on a cultural and societal level, I am very grateful to have grown up in a home where it did not really happen on a familial level. A family where I always knew that I could go and do and be whatever I dreamed. A family where mother had the math degree and father taught school so that he could have summers off to go hiking and globetrotting. A place where egalitarianism was standard enough that I had been on my own for ten years before I could even recognize the continuing need for feminism in the rest of the world.

So go forth my sisters (and my brothers). Speak the truths you know. Don't be ashamed to speak the unpopular or taboo truths. Do what your gut tells you is important. Be a rebel if you need to be. Take up your space.

(here is the transcript, in case you have trouble with the video...but it is worth listening, because she speaks it well.)

Across from me at the kitchen table my mother smiles over red wine that she drinks out of a measuring glass. 
She says she doesn't deprive herself, but I've learned to find nuance in every movement of her fork and every crinkle in her brow as she offers me the uneaten pieces on her plate. I realize that she only eats dinner when I suggest it. 
I wonder what she does when I'm not there to do so.
Maybe this is why my house feels bigger each time I return. As she shrinks, the space around her seems increasingly vast. 
She wanes while my father waxes.
His stomach has grown round with wine, late nights, oysters, poetry, a new girlfriend who was overweight as a teenager but my dad reports "now she's crazy about fruit."
It was the same with his parents. 
As my grandmother became frail and angular her husband swelled to red round cheeks, rotund stomach, and I wonder if my lineage is one of women shrinking. Making space for the entrance of men in their lives. Not knowing how to fill it back up once they leave. 
I have been taught accommodation. 
My brother never thinks before he speaks. I have been taught to filter. "How can anyone have a relationship to food?" he asks, laughing, as I eat the black bean soup I chose for its lack of carbs.
I want to say we come from difference Jonas. 
You have been taught to grow out. I have been taught to grow in. 
You learned from our father how to emit, how to produce, how to roll each thought off your tongue with confidence. You used to lose your voice every other week from shouting so much. 
I learned to absorb. 
I took lessons from my mother in creating space around myself. I learned to read the knots in her forehead while the guys went out for oysters. And I never meant to replicate her, but spend enough time sitting across from someone and you pick up their habits. 
That's why women in my family have been shrinking for decades. 
We all learned it from each other. The way each generation taught the next how to knit, weaving silence in between the threads which I can still feel as I walk through this ever growing house. Skin itching, picking up all the habits my mother unwittingly dropped like bits of crumpled paper from her pocket on her countless trips from bedroom to kitchen to bedroom again. Nights I hear her creep down to eat plain yogurt in the dark. A fugitive stealing calories to which she does not feel entitled. Deciding how many bites is too many; how much space she deserves to occupy. 
Watching the struggle I either mimic or hate her, and I don't want to do either anymore. But the burden of this house has followed me across the country. I asked five questions in genetics class today and all of them started with the word "sorry..."
I don't know the capstone requirements for the sociology major because I spent the whole meeting deciding whether or not I could have another piece of pizza. A circular obsession I never wanted, but inheritance is accidental. 
Still staring at me with wine-soaked lips from across the kitchen table.

 

Postpartum Anxiety. My Story.

I wrote this to be shared with Momma Trauma. I'm not sure how much of it she'll use there, or in what form, and I know I get different readership here anyway so I wanted to share the story here as well. I just discovered MT's site last week as part of The Amethyst Network's networking. Momma Trauma addresses pregnancy and birth-related traumas of all sorts, from loss to traumatic births to postpartum psychoses.


Regular readers here will know that I had been through several miscarriages prior to my first live birth. I experienced a lot of depression during and after those, and credited it to grief, although I knew that there could be chemical components to it too. When I did realize I was going to carry to term with this one, I was shocked to find that I was still depressed. I was depressed for most of my pregnancy, in spite of being extremely excited that I was finally going to have a baby. I anticipated that I might have postpartum depression, and tried to have a support network in place just in case.
I have a family background of depression, bipolar, anxiety attacks, and even severe panic-induced breakdowns. But aside from the depression I mentioned here, I had never experienced any of those things myself. I'd never had an anxiety attack let alone chronic anxiety.

When my baby was born, I was jubilant. Our circumstances were actually really bad, my husband was working two jobs because we were broke, and it was the middle of winter. But I was not depressed. I was delighted to have a baby.

But I was terrified of hurting him. I have eight younger siblings and had been helping with babies for two decades before I had my own baby. I knew how to handle diapers and baths and feedings and all those things, and yet I still found myself feeling scared all the time. I was afraid that he would stop breathing in his sleep. I was afraid that as I laid him on the bed that his arm would twist under him and break as I set him down. When I had him in the sling as I made dinner, I was afraid that he would reach out and touch a pan or get cut on a knife or something before I could prevent it. I was terrified that he would get badly hurt and that it would be my fault. Not an accidental kind of fault, but a totally preventable kind of fault. None of these were rational fears, but they all ran around in my head on a daily basis.

I never told anyone. I assumed that I was paranoid about this baby because of the years of miscarriages and the waiting for him. Of course I was hyper-protective of this baby! And I could tell that they were irrational fears, so I didn't tell anyone because I felt stupid for having them. By the time he was about 6 months old they went away.

Three years later I had a second baby. I had not had difficulty conceiving or carrying him. The delivery had been straightforward and good. But I had experienced pregnancy depression again, and I had the postpartum fears again. This time I couldn't justify it to myself, because I didn't have the same set of circumstances coming in. I had HAD a baby before and everything had been fine with him. I couldn't think of why I would feel paranoid this time around, but I did. And it was the same things...stopping breathing, breaking his arm...knives in the kitchen...
 
Sometimes real things did happen. Like when he was 3 months old but had gotten strong enough that he kicked so hard that he tipped his bouncer over. He had been on the floor and was scared but not hurt. I was not much distressed by this, I comforted him, and just accepted that he had gotten too big for the bouncer and didn't use it anymore. But I was still scared that I would hurt him somehow.
 
Again, when he was a few months old it faded.

That baby was two when I listened to a podcast where a woman talked about having had postpartum anxiety. I had never even heard of such a thing. Her case had been so serious that she was institutionalized for several weeks (away from her baby). I was grateful that my anxiety was not that severe, but I also felt so validated in my experiences. I wished I had told someone. I wished I had known what it was. Now that I know (and it's only been a year that I've known) I have started telling people. Nobody should have to deal with this kind alone. It's scary and unnerving and it would have been nice to know that I wasn't crazy.

We Are All Enlisted

We are all enlisted till the conflict is o’er;
Happy are we! Happy are we!
Soldiers in the army, there’s a bright crown in store;
We shall win and wear it by and by.

A week ago, someone wrote a blog post. 

In 1848 the first Women's Rights Conference was held in Seneca Falls, outlying the goals and concerns of American women. In 1866  Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony formed the American Equal Rights Association, an organization dedicated to universal suffrage.

It wasn't enough. The conferences, the petitions, the marches, none of them granted women the right to vote…

But by 1920, a mere three years after Alice Paul's first act of civil disobedience by picketing the White House, women gained the right to vote.

As it turns out, the Suffragists weren't traitors, but liberators. 

Can you imagine what would happen if the Mormon Feminist movement stopped playing nice? If faithful, devoted women stood as Silent Sentinels outside the gates of the Church Office Building. If the women who loved the church enough to face accusations of apostasy and potential excommunication organized a sit-out, so that one Sunday no Mormon Feminists came to church. If we stopped organizing Friends of Scouting banquets until our daughters sat at the table, likewise recognized for their own accomplishments.

History has proven that civil disobedience works. Martin Luther King Jr., Alice Paul, Harvey Milk, and countless others faced accusations of treason when they apostatized from the status quo because they loved their country. 

"Remember the dignity of your womanhood. Do not appeal, do not beg, do not grovel. Take courage, join hands, stand beside us, fight with us." 

Mormon feminists, I think it is time for some good old-fashioned Civil Disobedience.

Haste to the battle, quick to the field;
Truth is our helmet, buckler, and shield.
Stand by our colors; proudly they wave!
We’re joyfully, joyfully marching to our home.

Within a day a Facebook group, All Enlisted, had been created, and had over 200 members. Because that is the speed of life now in the internet age.  They--we--began to discuss ways that we could practice civil disobedience. (Lookout world, never underestimate Mormon women’s ability to organize massive productions overnight!)

We are all enlisted till the conflict is o’er;
Happy are we! Happy are we!
Soldiers in the army, there’s a bright crown in store;
We shall win and wear it by and by.

Hark! the sound of battle sounding loudly and clear;
Come join the ranks! Come join the ranks!
We are waiting now for soldiers; who’ll volunteer?
Rally round the standard of the cross.

So, the first act of civil disobedience that was chosen: Ladies wearing pants to church. Nice pants. Dressy slacks. En masse, on December 16. There is not a church policy against this. In fact, the long-standing official church policy is that church attendees should dress nicely and respectfully. No specifics in length, style, or number of leg holes have ever been laid out.

As one friend discovered when she went to the temple directly from work (in a pantsuit), and sheepishly asked at the front desk if there was some kind of rule... The elderly worker looked her right in the eye and said  "the rule is that you come to the temple whenever you can!"

Hark! ’tis our Captain calls you today;

Lose not a moment, make no delay!

Fight for our Savior; come, come away!

We’re joyfully, joyfully marching to our home.

I am joining this movement because I want to fight for our Savior and for His counsel to love one another, and judge not.
I remember a time when I was about 9 when one of the children's leaders wore pants in church. They were not even pants so much as a split skirt--I remember staring at her for at least half of the class time before concluding that, in fact, this was not a skirt. I was appalled at her. I couldn't believe she would wear pants to church. How wrong and bad!
I now look back at my nine-year-old self with sadness. I know that my parents never taught me to be so judgmental about the way a person dressed. So why did I feel so judgmental? I can only guess that it was pervasive in the culture. Actually, I know that fixations on how other people dress IS pervasive in Mormon culture. If you disagree, think about the last time you noticed someone's garment line (or lack thereof). Now I ask, why were you looking?! How is someone's underwear ever anyone else's business?!
I have never ever worn pants to church. It so happens that I love wearing dresses and skirts, and often wear them on weekdays. I don't particularly want to wear pants to church. BUT, I will be doing so because of this experience. I will be wearing pants to church to be an example to my children that I really do believe that "the lord looketh on the heart [rather than the outward appearance]." I believe in walking the talk. Is wearing pants to church a big deal? No. Will this single event bring about any of the other changes that the All Enlisted movement is hoping for? Not really. But we hope that it will help people to take a look at themselves and their socio-cultural prejudices, and take the opportunity to practice a little non-judgment.

We are all enlisted till the conflict is o’er;
Happy are we! Happy are we!
Soldiers in the army, there’s a bright crown in store;
We shall win and wear it by and by.

So come, wear pants with us. I know we might look small now, but this is starting to get attention. There was a very perceptive blog post at Feminist Mormon Housewives, another at Like Unto Eve, another at Zelophehad's Daughters, and we got some attention on SLC's ABC news and in the Salt Lake Tribune (which includes an official statement from a Church spokesperson. Guess what, according to official sources, wearing pants to church is still a non-issue, just like it was in 1971).

Fighting for a kingdom, and the world is our foe;

Happy are we! Happy are we!

Glad to join the army, we will sing as we go;

We shall gain the vict’ry by and by.

This seemed like such a little thing. Wearing pants? What is this, 1942?! Some of the people in this movement want to see major changes (including female ordination). But most want smaller things, things which don't even touch doctrine, but merely policy or tradition. (Some of these things include women sometimes saying prayers at Church General Conferences, calling the Relief Society president "President" instead of "Sister," or women being asked if they will support their husband's callings in the same way that husbands are currently asked if they will support their wife's calling.)
And yet, the kickback has been enormous. Around 600 people have "joined" the event page, but dozens have also posted negative responses, suggesting that participants are unfeminine, disrespectful, apostate, and more. Who knew this was such a big deal?!

Dangers may gather—why should we fear?
Jesus, our Leader, ever is near.
He will protect us, comfort, and cheer.
We’re joyfully, joyfully marching to our home.

It seems to me that nothing has summed up this whole "thing" as well as this recent thread on the event page. 

persons herein have given their permission for me to post this, those left not-anonymous asked to be so

We are all enlisted till the conflict is o’er;

Happy are we! Happy are we!

Soldiers in the army, there’s a bright crown in store;

We shall win and wear it by and by.

Thanksgiving week 3--Feminism Strikes Again

I'm a few days late on this... but we'll all politely ignore that, ok? It's still the first half of the week. That's close enough!

This week I have been reading a book about the women's movement in the United States from 1960-2008. I was fairly uneducated on all of this, having heard snippets of "bra burning" and "ERA marches" but not really knowing the details of any of it. When Everything Changed by Gail Collins is 400 pages long and I have devoured it in a week. It is fascinating.
As I gain a better understanding of the status quo in 1960, I sympathize with why those feminists were so radical. They had to be. Women fought for 100 years to get the right to vote, but even after that they were limited in many ways. For example, a woman (even a single woman) could not get a credit card or loan unless she had her spouse (or father) to co-sign with her. One principal proudly explained that he loved hiring women teachers because they were just as good as the men "but I can pay them half as much!" As late as 1972, a woman senator was literally forced to share a chair (with a black male senator) in committee, because the committee chairman considered them each to be "only half a person."


Wow we have come a long way. And yet in some areas we continue to fight exactly the same problems. Although I love being a stay at home mom, I recognize that not everyone wants to do that, or is able to do that. While the economy struggles, more and more women feel that they need to work, even if they want to be home with their children. Most women in this country (and certainly teachers) now get paid more than half of men's wages...but the national average is 78%, so the gender gap is still there. Women are half the population, but only 17% of the US congress. Is this because fewer women run for office? Or because the citizenry believe that men are more capable? Regardless, it does mean that most of women's concerns are underrepresented in federal legislation. In households where both parents work, usually the woman is still expected to handle the majority of the housekeeping and cooking. In broken families, women usually keep the children, but about a third of fathers do not contribute financial or other child support. Only 3 of every 100 rapists ever spends even one day behind bars. In other words, we still have a long way to go.

And so in that spirit, I would like to share a list of things that this feminist is grateful for this week

1. That my husband (both financially and otherwise) supports my desire to be a stay at home parent.
2. That my parents (especially my mother) taught me frugality and sustainability as a way of life, so that I have the skills to live modestly and within our means.
3. That I have sufficient education (and in an appropriate field) that I could support my family if I needed too.
4. That I and my family have been able to take advantage of programs such as WIC and medicaid to help us make ends meet when we were struggling.
5. That, in spite of how notoriously low teacher's pay is, that it also comes with good medical benefits.
6. For the many women--and men--who went before me, fighting battles for women (such as getting the right to vote, or to get loans, or own property, or escape abusive marriages) so that there is a little less left to fight for now.
7. For the many women--and men--who are still fighting the good fight, in their many ways. Whether they are teaching their daughters that they are equally important with their sons, or giving them the skills and education to go somewhere in the world. Whether they are making laws or catching babies or counseling victims. And for the many who will continue to do these things in the future.

Why this Pro-Lifer Votes 'Pro-Choice' (for now)

I hope you don't mind if I share a thought on an issue (which is a realization that led me to shift my political stances significantly a few years ago).

I am heartily pro-life. In the past I had sometimes let that issue be the single issue that determined who I voted for. After all, killing babies is evil, so anyone who doesn't fight abortion must also be evil. But in light of the facts I've changed my mind.

I appreciate that there are a GREAT many arguments about when a baby becomes a baby...certainly in the first few hours or days after the sperm meets the egg it doesn't seem like much of a baby. A significant number of these joinings don't manage to implant in the uterus and are miscarried...sometimes this is the result of a birth control pill or an IUD or something like a morning-after-pill, and probably just as often it just happens naturally. I, personally, do not consider this to be an abortion. I think that morning after pills should be readily available to victims of rape and incest, and you know what, frankly, probably to anyone who wants them. A morning after pill taken the day after sex works the same way as a birth control pill taken the day before.
Once we get past implantation though, things change. Human babies have a heartbeat by about 5 weeks gestation (this is 1 week after mom has missed her period, or within a few days of when she gets a positive pregnancy test). I know plenty of people who will argue about whether the spirit/soul of the child is in there yet at this stage--the baby certainly doesn't look very human yet. [see image]
But a heartbeat seems to me to be a fair designation of "life." In other words, I think a baby is a baby by the time that mommy knows it is there.

Without equivocation, I affirm that I want to protect the lives of babies before they are born. I also state, equally vehemently, that I want to protect the lives of people of all ages after they are born. I think that someone who values life needs to value comprehensive healthcare and welfare programs for the impoverished, because every year far more people die preventable deaths outside of wombs than in them.

I really hate abortion, personally. I cannot imagine a circumstance where I would ever have one, nor would I ever advise a friend to do so.  BUT, currently our society has SO LITTLE support for poor parents, single parents, working mothers, etc that I have sympathy for why some women feel that they simply cannot have a(nother) baby. They can't afford the child, the diapers, the food, the clothes, the childcare, etc etc. Giving up babies to adoption is stigmatized, keeping a baby and raising it alone is stigmatized... it's a lose-lose-lose situation. Some of these women are married and simply feel they cannot afford another baby, or are afraid to bring a child into an abusive situation. I know we sensationalize stories about abortions for gender-selection and things like that, but those are such a small minority. The one person I have personally known who got an abortion did so because she had been drinking and using drugs at the time she conceived and she feared that her actions would harm the child for a lifetime. She considered abortion the humane choice. Whether anyone else agrees with her is not the point. The point is that she took the matter seriously, and was trying to make a moral choice from her perspective.

If we make abortion illegal, then women are still going to do it, but instead of going to doctors in clean offices they will be doing it with coat hangers in basements...that's what they were doing before 1972 and I have no hesitation in thinking they will do it again. Women used to die from those abortions. Yes, babies are dying now, but the death toll was twice as high when both baby and mother died. Making something illegal doesn't make it stop. Consider marijuana! Or the speakeasies during prohibition!

I would love to see the abortion rates go down in this country, but I don't think that overturning Roe vs Wade is the solution. In order to reduce the abortion rate, the first step is to reduce those unwanted pregnancies. This requires easy and affordable access to contraceptives for any woman who wants them. It requires reducing the cultural stigma that surrounds rape, so that women who are raped will not be afraid to go to the hospital (and get the morning after pill). It should include reducing rape--a good first step there would be to prosecute and punish more than 3 of every 100 rapists, or to even report more than the half that get reported currently. It also requires more comprehensive sex education for every young person in the country. I love the idea of having parents do this teaching, but since most of them don't, then it should be available in schools. (Abstinence is a great part of sex ed, but should never be the only thing taught, because there will always be kids who simply are not going to do it.)
Once we've reduced the number of unplanned pregnancies, there remains the question of how to address the ones that do happen. Here again, society needs to step up. These women and girls need to be supported. They need to know that if they have this baby, they will be able to afford those diapers and clothes, that food, that childcare. They need people around them who will help them through the pregnancy, birth, and parenting processes. If they choose to give the child up for adoption, they need to have the option of choosing the adoptive parents, having an open or closed adoption, or whatever else feels most comfortable to them. AND they need to be supported before, during, and after the adoptive process (I hear that giving up a child for adoption can feel very much like losing a child, and that intense grieving is normal, even for a mother who felt sure in her choice. If she felt pressured into it at all, I'm sure it is much worse.)

I am pro-life, but I believe that abortion needs to remain legal in this country, at least for now. I certainly support there being some limitations and restrictions, but until the social structure and support is in place for these women and girls, I find it counter-productive to try to make abortion entirely illegal. There is a letter here which provides an excellent example of someone who is trying to work on that social support (I know it's long, but it is really really good). It is one tiny step and we have so much further to go, but it is heading in the right direction. My hope (and my vote) go toward supporting the social policies that will reduce the unplanned pregnancies, and support those who have them: it is the most pro-life option I can think of.

Thanksgiving week 1, and Half the Sky

This weekend was Canadian Thanksgiving.
The US celebrates Thanksgiving in about 6 weeks.
Since I began homeschooling, I spend far less time blogging, which I think is good, but I'm going to shoot for weekly posts during this time (because daily ones are laughably unrealistic!) Every week, I plan to post at least 7 things I am grateful for.

 This week's list is much inspired by the PBS Special Half the Sky (which is available to stream for two more days, and then will be available for purchase via pbs--maybe you can talk your local library into getting it. It was fantastic).

The title "Half the Sky" comes from the thought that half the sky is held up by women. The documentary (which is 4 hours long) is based on a book of the same title, written by a pair of journalists who were writing on economic and political issues in southeast asia, and realized that issue after issue related to women.
I recently heard the statistic that women do 40% of the world's work, but control 1% of the world's money. Throughout the world (especially in third world countries and impoverished regions, but truly everywhere) females are regarded as inferior. Sometimes they are even seen as completely expendable. Everything from gender-based abortions or infanticides to rape, forced prostitution, female genital mutilation, and keeping girls out of school to run the house (so that both parents can work)...the lists are long and painful. In watching the documentary, I was struck by two things: 1--how blessed I am to live where and when I do, and 2--how unconscionably selfish it would be if I did not share of my abundance.

And so, without further ado, this week's list of thanksgiving:

1. I am grateful to live in a land of plenty, where even though I may get bored with what is available for dinner, I never have to go without dinner.
2. I am grateful to live in a land where education is readily available to every child, regardless of race, sex, or income, where my parents never had to literally skip meals in order to pay for me to be literate, and where I do not have starve myself to educate my own children.
3. I am grateful for the education that I have.
4. I am grateful to live in a family with people with whom I can feel safe, without fear of being abused, abducted, sold, belittled, or held back from my potential.
5. I am grateful that right now kiva.org is hosting a sponsorship program, so that every new person who signs up (you can do it via me at this link) can send $25 of microloan to someone (of their choice) at no cost to themselves. If you feel able to do so (and truly, we all should) you can add some of your own money as well. If you do, then when it is repaid to you (often within a few months), you can turn around and re-loan that money to someone else. Kiva is a wonderful and reputable organization.
6. I am grateful for the way that modern technology makes it so easy to share of our abundance with those who are in need. (Today, via kiva, I helped a woman in Peru buy a cow, a woman in Tajikistan buy a sewing machine, a woman in Albania send her daughter to school, and a woman in Ukraine buy goods for her store...all without having to leave my chair.)
7. I am grateful for the ability of one person to be a force for good in the world. May I ever be so. May we all be so.

Heavenly Mother in Young Women's: What you hadn't noticed about the personal progress program

The LDS young women's organization (for girls aged 12-18) has something called Personal Progress, which is a program in which the girls complete a series of experiences (small) and projects (larger) designed to help them increase their faith and skills. The experiences and projects are in 'values' (categories) such as faith, individual worth, good works, and integrity. The booklet has a list of suggestions, but girls can also design their own experiences. When a girl has completed the designated things, she is awarded a medallion.

When I was a young woman, there were 42 experiences and 4 big projects (20-30 hours each), and it had to be completed over the course of all six years, because the girl could not start on the next portion until her next birthday. At the end of every two years, if a girl had completed everything for those years she could earn one of the class medallions. If she completed everything, she could earn this "Young Womanhood" medallion --->
A pretty lady standing by some flowers. (Here I could make all sorts of comments about symbolism of juxtaposing a girl with flowers, or the apparent focus on the outward appearance of the girl depicted...but I don't really want to. I will just note that this is the old medallion, the one I got, but which very few of my peers did.)

A few years ago they revamped the program, and now there are 48 experiences and 8 (10 hr) projects--6 experiences and 1 project in each of the 8 value areas. They also took out the timetable, so girls are able to work through all of the goals at their own pace, no waiting for birthdays (and losing momentum). They have done away with the intermediate medallions, and changed the final medallion (more on that in a moment!) and they have now added honor bees.

An honor bee is a charm which the girl can earn after she has earned her medallion. She can actually earn as many as three bees, and does so by doing more goals, or helping other girls complete their experiences and projects.
It's a lovely idea, the extra charms for going the extra mile, but what I particularly noticed was that it's a BEE. You know, a symbol of Mother Goddess.


Better still is the new medallion. It is a combination of several symbols: the temple, the beehive, the laurel wreath, the rose, and the ruby. Young women are divided into three classes: Beehives (12-13), Mia Maids (14-15) and Laurels (16-17). Bees and beehives are a symbol often found in the church as a symbol of industry. The symbol for Mia Maids is a rose (something about purity or beauty I suspect, though I'm not certain). Laurels are named for laurel wreaths, as the ancient greeks used to crown champions. The temple is where a young woman wants to go, and a ruby reminds her of Proverbs 31, which says that a virtuous woman's worth is far above rubies.

This medallion is also available in the girl's choice of gold or silver, which is just nice, because some of us prefer silver (also, aside from my personal preference, silver carries female energy while gold carries male, so silver is more appropriate than gold anyway).

However
The temple is a symbol of Heavenly Mother.
So is the bee.
So is the ruby.
And trees (like laurels) and flowers (like roses) are often seen as symbols of the Divine Feminine as well.
In other words, this new medallion positively GLOWS with Heavenly Mother. It is FULL of Her. She is everywhere. When these girls earn and wear this medallion, it is not just a symbol that they have completed a set of projects (though that is notable): it is a symbol of their potential to become like their Heavenly Mother. To become goddesses like She is.

Now we just need to teach the girls what it is that they are wearing.

Ruby

My birthday is in July, so my birthstone is the ruby. It's a pretty gem, intense and dark, and very expensive (more expensive than diamonds actually, last I heard). It is a very sturdy stone, second hardest on the rating scale after diamonds.
And it's red. My favorite color is pink. I almost never wear red. So I never really wanted anything with my birthstone on it...
And then I learned that the ruby and the sapphire are actually the same stone on a molecular level, they just come out in different colors. Actually they come in a wide variety of colors, but for some reasons the red (or sometimes pinkish) ones get called "rubies" and all the other colors are called "sapphires"...the blue ones are plain "sapphires" and the others are "green sapphires" or "orange sapphires" and so on.

these colors are all sapphires/rubies

This year I was reading about the properties of various gemstones. I have never really believed that a rock could have power, but the more I learn about the universe, the more I believe that the whole energy field notion actually has some merit. And so I decided to read up on the ruby, and see if I could make friends with it.
I found some interesting things.
The ruby

• brings integrity, devotion and happiness 
• brings and increases love
• very protective of home and children
• is a stone of high energy and power that promotes healing on all levels [link]
• is a stone of nobility 
• brings love, confidence, loyalty, and courage
• instills stamina, vitality and strength
• re-energizes one after exhaustion 
• helps to reduce negative thought patterns
• is a good stone of protection. 
• helps you feel more like giving to others and doing so with love and joy in your heart. There is no room for resentment in ones heart who is being of service to others and this stone does not allow that to be a part of your heart. it helps you relax as you caretake others because you can trust you will not be trapped in any way in that role. It helps all to be warm, caring and help out with the needs of others. it also helps one with devotion to others. [link]
• considered to be the most powerful gem in the universe
• the symbol of vitality and royalty
• contentment and peace [link]

I most frequently found the ruby associated with motherhood, home, service and healing. For these and other reasons, I and others have come to feel that the ruby's energy field is a reflection of mother, or, more accurately, of Mother.
I thought also of the fact that ruby is also the most expensive gemstone--more than diamonds--which puts me in mind of Proverbs where it asks "who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is above rubies." I have thought much on that, and about the idea that equating virtuous women (us) with rubies is actually equating us to Heavenly Mother and our potential to be like her.
Making this connection has been powerful for me, because of the ruby being MY birthstone, I now feel an additional connection to the Divine Feminine that I hadn't before. Not just a connection in terms of being more interested in Her, but a connection in terms of seeing Her in myself.

star ruby

You know something else interesting? The ruby (aka sapphire) is the only stone which may have a star in it. I haven't reached any conclusions about deep meanings in that, except I bet that there is one. (What do you think?)


Depending upon which type of gold you have the ring set in, (yellows or silvers) the ruby would bring with it these healing properties as well. The yellows carry the energy of the Sun or a masculine energy, while the silvers carry the energy of the Moon or a feminine energy. [link] Ruby rings should be worn on the left hand so as to receive the life force and have protection. [link]
It seems that I should be in the market for a left-hand, silver-set ruby ring. Don't you think?

The Next Stage

Eagle is now 23 months old; just weeks away from the age Bear was when I got pregnant with Eagle.
But I'm not pregnant. Yes, I am fertile (it took 22 months this time instead of 20), but we're not trying to get pregnant; actually we are actively preventing pregnancy. Maybe forever.

If you had asked me a year ago (as my husband did), I would have said no way was I ready to be done having kids. Ever since my teens I had been planning on 5 kids at least... Even with my slow start and wider-than-anticipated spacing I was 28 when Eagle was born, so I could certainly have another child or two before 35! But when Eagle was just a couple of weeks old, Hubby said something about how we were outnumbered now (more kids than parents), and he thought maybe we should be done having kids. I figured he was tired and stressed with the newborn, and brushed it off. When he brought it up again a few months later,  I began to think about it.

Initially I hated the thought of being done. Only three children? But I have so much to give! I'm pretty good at this mommy thing, I know how to handle lots of kids, shouldn't I give a good home to as many kids as I can? Pregnancy is not that hard for me physically--I don't get that sick and my body doesn't fall apart. Birth isn't hard on me either--in fact it's exhilarating.

And then a friend gave me a piece of very sound wisdom. Some kids need more than others (and I do have a couple of high-needs kids). If a mother has a finite amount of energy (which I think she does!), then no matter how much love she has, it makes sense to go with a family size that is appropriate to her energy. Sometimes that might mean 9 children, and sometimes it might mean 3. As I considered the possibility that I might actually have my quiver full with [only] three children, I began to accept that it was probably true.

So we made the decision to be done with having babies. I admit I made it more mentally than emotionally--part of me keep thinking "we're just done for now, in a few years we'll have another one or two." But I set it in my head and then let it marinate... and it took a while. Some days I would think "ok, I can wait 3 or 4 or 5 years, but I want at least one more" and other days I would think "how nice would it be to have no kids in diapers?!" or "we'll never have to buy a bigger van!"

And then, one day last winter, my sister called and told me she was pregnant. And for the first time, instead of thinking "I wish I were" I thought "I am so glad I'm not." And that was a massive turning point. I had never experienced not wanting to be pregnant in a particular moment. It was weird, and also it helped me realize that maybe I could make this transition.

I don't know precisely what the future holds, but I do know that it does not hold pregnancy for me--not for several years at least, and very probably not ever again. Some days I still struggle with the finality of it, but I also feel confident that this is the right choice for us at this time.

I have an IUD now (because breastfeeding was messing with my charting, and we did not want to allow the possibility of an 'oopsie'). Even though I intellectually knew that I wanted to do this (Hubby and I discussed at length and agreed on this option), it was still hard emotionally. I felt as though I had voluntarily given up my "full bloom" of fertility, as it were, in trade for a forced infertility. Like I had handed in the fullness of my womanhood for premature old age. I appreciate that that probably sounds like hyperbole, but I really felt it keenly. It didn't hit me until I was in the CNM's office getting ready to have the IUD put in, and then I bawled and gushed to her (a veritable stranger) about it. I suppose she doesn't get that very often! I cried much of the day after I came home too. I had not expected to react that way--after all, an IUD can be removed! But the next day I calmed down enough to do a closure ritual for myself, and felt much better for it. It was shortly after this time that I had my epiphany about the three phases of womanhood which I wrote about here.

I may be finishing with one stage of my life, but I still have many stages to live and enjoy. Perhaps I am done with pregnancy and birthing (for myself), but of course motherhood goes on. My children are young, there is much to do with them. As I exit the baby stage, I can enter another stage--a stage I have been thinking about (but putting on hold for six years)--a stage where I can reach out to other women and teach and support them as a doula and a childbirth educator. It's actually pretty exciting.

Finding the Feminine Divine

This is a post that has been on my mind for some time, but which I've hesitated to write for fear of how it might be received.

This year, I have been coming to know God the Mother.

~~~

I remember in college my agnostic roommate told me that she thought the ideal deity would be a trio, one each male, female, and neuter. But she was an open-minded agnostic, not a mainstream Christian. Judaism talks about the God of Abraham and Isaac, and in the next breath about the God of Sarah and Rebekah...so that seems more open to female inclusion, but still, a pretty patriarchal picture of things. Christianity says that Jesus is male, and by using terms like "Father" pretty clearly indicates that God is also male (or perhaps without gender). So I was sure I couldn't talk about the Feminine Divine to other Christians, could I? It would be edgy at best, and possibly blasphemous.
Then one day, just after reading Dance of the Dissident Daughter, I got up the guts to raise the concept of the Feminine Divine in conversation with a Protestant friend. She said "well it makes sense that God should have both female and male aspects, to be perfectly balanced, and the idea of a married couple sure works for that."

Here I'll back up for a moment and explain that Mormon theology takes a different approach to Deity than most other Christian faiths: we teach that God is male and embodied, as is the Son. The Holy Spirit is spirit, but all three are distinctly separate beings. And, to top it off, God is married, and His wife is also a Deity--a Goddess, our Heavenly Mother.

And I'm getting to know Her.

This simple outline was something I'd understood since childhood. God is married, we have a Heavenly Mother, but we don't really talk about Her. She's there, and that's all we need to know.
I have been content with this my entire life. Truly. I knew other women who felt patronized by patriarchy and wanted to reach out to a Feminine Divine, but I was no feminist. She was there, and that was good enough for me. I never sought Her out.

And then, one day, She sought me.

Moon Goddess by Josephine Wall

That's the only way I can think to describe it. One night an awareness and understanding of her came to my mind powerfully and emotionally, (the story is here) and from that moment onward I see Her everywhere. She is in the moon and in the sea. She is in the trees and in the temple. She is in me, and She has become part of my daily life.

And now I realize, She was there all along, I just hadn't see her.

~~~

I recently was privileged to share in a Daughters of Mormonism podcast about some of the many symbols that help me connect to Mother Goddess. If you're interested, you can listen to it here.

"The truth will set you free, but first it will shatter the safe, sweet way you live," (Sue Monk Kidd in Dance of the Dissident Daughter).  Indeed, I feel like a new woman in so many ways, and yet I know I can never go back to the simpler life or faith I had before. I know more, I see more, I am more. Things are not simple anymore (and, in full honesty, knowing Mother is only part of it).

There are many of us (mostly women, but not all) who have been finding and knowing our Goddess in recent months and years. Many mormons are uneasy about discussing Her or trying to know Her because little has been said via official sources, but more and more of us are connecting with Her regardless. Some of my friends have expressed that they feel Her 'moving in the world' or that we 'have reached a tipping point.' One of my friends has instigated a movement, inviting us all to pray specifically for revelation about Mother.


If this intrigues you at all, I encourage you to check out some of the following links. They are some of the resources which have fed me in my knowledge and understanding of Mother Goddess:

• With Your Mutual Approbation (a blog "likening the scriptures" to include Heavenly Mother)
• "Finding the Divine Feminine part 1" and "Finding the Divine Feminine part 2" from the Daughters of Mormonism podcast
• "Is Heavenly Mother Making a Comeback in Mormonism?" by Joanna Brooks
• "A Mother There: a survey of historical teachings about Mother in Heaven" by Paulsen and Pulido (published by BYU studies)
• "Heavenly Mother in Today's Mormonism" a Mormon Matters podcast (panel discussion based on the prior article--I should warn you that the moderator dropped a muttered expletive right near the beginning of the episode...but otherwise it was great)

Mother's Day

“Motherhood becomes a holy calling, a sacred dedication for carrying out the Lord’s plans, a consecration of devotion to the uprearing and fostering, the nurturing in body, mind, and spirit... Motherhood is near to divinity. It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind. It places her who honors its holy calling and service next to the angels.” 

 (Ensign October 2005)

Year after year, on the second Sunday of May, we are inundated with these quotes, poems, and stories of motherhood. Of the perfect mothers with magazine page living rooms, gourmet meals, perfect children, and nary a hair out of place.
Year after year, I have watched real mothers listen to those stories and think "well I'm a pathetic failure then. My kids pick their noses, my hair is frizzy, I hate being pregnant, I can't make a chocolate torte, and Mt Laundry is in direct competition with Everest for tallest mountain on earth."
I have also watched women with infertility who listen to those stories and bawl for the rest of the day because they have neither perfect children nor imperfect ones.
On my first Mother's Day as a married woman, I was still recovering from a difficult late-term miscarriage, and I was definitely not uplifted, comforted, or encouraged by anything I heard about mothers that year.

So here's to all the mothers who aren't June Cleaver.
To all the women who would like to be mothers but don't or can't have children.
To all the women (whether they have kids or not) who reach out into their communities and mother those around them, by being Big Sisters, doulas, midwives, teachers, coaches, mentors, and friends.
The poem says that "the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world," but here is to all the women who have never (and possibly will never) rock a cradle, but who are ruling the world all the same, by getting out and doing good in the world.

Motherhood is broader than biology. 

May we never forget it.

As Sisters in Zion

My LDS readers will be familiar with this hymn, because it's the official hymn of the Relief Society. Last March I wrote several posts about the RS because March is the RS birthday, this year I am touching on the topic again, hopefully several times, but at least today. 

This is the original version of the song, from 1874. In our current hymnbook, it has been shortened to just have verses 1, 8, and 9. They are excellent verses, to be sure, but I find the full lyrics very inspiring. I'm glad I stumbled across them recently. ☺


1. As sisters in Zion, we'll all pull together,
The blessings of God on our labors we'll seek:
We'll build up His kingdom with earnest endeavor;
We'll comfort the weary, and strengthen the weak.


2. We'll turn from our follies, our pride and our weakness,
The vain, foolish fashions of Babel despise;
We'll seek for the garments of truth and of meekness,
And learn to be useful and happy and wise.


3. We'll wear what is sensible, neat and becoming
The daughters of Zion—the angels of light;
We'll work with a will, while the angels are scanning
Our aims and our actions from morning till night.


4. We'll bring up our children to be self-sustaining;
To love and to do what is noble and right;
When we rest from our labors, these dear ones remaining,
Will bear off the kingdom and "fight the good fight."


5. Nor shall our attention be wholly restricted
To training our children or shaping our dress;
The aged, the feeble, the poor and afflicted,
Our labors shall comfort, our efforts shall bless.


6. "The Lord hath established the cities of Zion,
The poor of His people are trusting in Him,"
He makes us a source for His poor to rely on;
Oh! shall we not brighten the eyes that are dim.


7. Oh! shall we not hasten to soothe the condition
Of the humble, the needy, the honest and pure?
Oh! let us remember, whate'er our ambition—
'Tis our duty, our mission, to comfort the poor.


8. 'Tis the office of angels, conferred upon woman;
And this is a right that, as women, we claim;
To do whatsoever is gentle and human;
To cheer and to bless in humanity's name.


9. How vast are our labors; how broad is our mission,
If we only fulfill it in spirit and deed;
Oh! naught but the Spirit's divinest tuition—
Can give us the wisdom to truly succeed.


10. Then, as sisters in Zion, we'll all pull together;
The blessing of God on our labors we'll seek;
We'll build up the kingdom with earnest endeavor;
We'll comfort the weary and strenghten the weak.

The Dance of the Dissident Daughter by Sue Monk Kidd

There is a great review of this book at With Your Mutual Approbation, so I won't repeat what she said, (you should just go read that review too!) but I will add some thoughts of my own as well as a few quotes.

The book has four sections, chronicling Kidd's journey "from christian tradition to the sacred feminine." The sections are Awakening, Initiation, Grounding, and Empowerment. The book is a little like a diary, or a documentary of her personal journey of discovery. She has excerpts from her journal, she talks about art she created, dreams she had, rituals she did, and her conversations and research during the time (it covers several years). She draws from MANY sources, some of which clicked for me more than others. Art, history, theologians, psychology, mythology, and feminism combine in her own personal melting pot of putting in all the pieces and creating a new self and a new view of the world.

I think the greatest point of this book is that it approaches the idea of the Divine Feminine from a Christian perspective. In other words, it does not discount Christianity, it merely broadens the view. 

I feel like I have been or am doing some similar things (pulling from many sources to make a new paradigm), however my own feelings and conclusions aren't all the same as hers. I think she makes some good points though. In the first half or so of "Awakening" I thought wow, this could be me writing this; but then in the later part of that section, plus most of "Initiation," I felt like I really didn't relate. In those parts she was pushing back against the repression she felt in the patriarchal society, particularly the patriarchal church. The LDS church is pretty patriarchal in practice, but it is NOT so much in doctrine (ie, we already have a belief in  Heavenly Mother), so I don't feel nearly so repressed or disenfranchised as Kidd did. As the book got into the "Grounding" part I started relating again though, and really liked many of her conclusions.

Kidd's experiences combined feminism with spirituality, and while there is a lot of room for overlap, I feel that there is also lots of room for separation. So I took the intellectual stimulation and lapped it up as food for thought...but without feeling any obligation to agree with any particular part. I was intrigued by her interpretations and insights in some areas, and more or less apathetic about others. In the long run though, I found it difficult to put the book down, and would heartily recommend it to anyone (especially any woman, but really any one) who is open to thinking about things from a broader perspective.


Here are a few quotes or ideas from the book that I particularly liked:

"I often went to Catholic mass or Eucharist at the Episcopal church, nourished by the symbol and power of this profound feeding ritual. It never occurred to me how odd it was that women, who have presided over the domain of food and feeding for thousands of years, were historically and routinely barred from presiding over it in a spiritual context. And when the priest held out the host and said, "This is my body, given for you," not once did I recognize that it is women in the act of breastfeeding who most truly embody those words and who are also the most excluded from ritually saying them" (15).
An LDS acquaintance recently made the point that women literally shed their blood for others in menstruation, the marriage bed, and childbirth. (Those, along with lactation and menopause, are the five pagan "women's blood mysteries" and are considered sacred, which I think is appropriate. How wonderful would it be to raise daughters to think of their bleeding as sacred rather than as a curse?!)
In a later part of the book, Kidd mentions that the phrase "El Shaddai" (used in the Old Testament as a name for God) has usually been translated as "the almighty," but in fact 'shad' is also a Hebrew word for breast, and the 'ai' ending is feminine. So another reasonable interpretation is "the breasted one," or nurturing mother. And how many times in scripture does God speak of gathering us "as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wing"? Indeed, I must agree with Ms Kidd that the Old Testament is actually FULL of positive female references.

"The question then occurred to me: Well, [if] the Divine is ultimately formless and genderless, what's the big deal? Why all this bother?
"The bother is because we have no other way of speaking about the Absolute. We need forms and images. Without them we have no way of relating to the Divine. Symbol and image create a universal spiritual language. It's the language the soul understands. 
"And yet--and here's the crux--the images that have pervaded our speech, thought, and feeling about the Divine have told us the Divine is exclusively male. They have told us there is only one form and that form is masculine. Indeed, the image, language, and metaphor of God as male has been used so exclusively, for so long, that most people seem to believe that God is male. 
"How many times had I heard someone say "God is not male, He is spirit"?" (137-140).
The author is writing from a mainstream Christian perspective, and of course LDS theology does not quite align with this--we believe that God the Father IS male--but we also believe in the existence of God's wife, a Mother and Goddess, His partner and equal. And so, while I would word the issue differently, I still have to ask--if this is a true thing, why won't we talk about it?

I particularly liked a part where the author wrote about Matroyshka dolls (russian nesting dolls). She had a dream where a wisewoman archetype (who appeared in a lot of her dreams) gave her a doll, and showed her essentially the wisewoman (goddess) within herself. Later she learned that 'matroyshka' means 'mother' and she was struck by the idea of a mother within a mother within a mother. I was thinking about that, and how a woman's eggs are inside her when she is born. In other words, when a woman is pregnant with a daughter, it is not only her daughter but also her granddaughters who are within her. Just like the mother doll. And if you go back through enough mothers, we come all the way to Eve, and to Heavenly Mother. She talked about sitting in the "Great Lap" of Heavenly Mother, just as a child would sit in the lap of an earthly mother or grandmother.

Kidd concludes with some thoughts about why we benefit from having female authority as well as male, and it is because the two sexes simply do things differently. Men are naturally inclined to create hierarchical pyramids, whereas women are more likely to create weblike networks. Men compete, women build teams. It is not that one way is superior or inferior, it is that they both have their place, and neither should be pushed out by the other. As women, living in a predominately male-organized culture, we benefit from finding or creating female authority patterns in our lives, because we understand and relate to them better. Just as I felt a greater understanding of the atonement when I thought of being a mother sending my son to die (rather than the oft-repeated "God sent his Son"), so too we can grow closer to God the Father (as well as God the Mother) by acknowledging the presence--and differences--of each.

"I think women understand that 

we create change 

as we live out the experiences of our souls 

in the common acts of life" 

(222).

Further Thoughts on Feminism

I've written before of why I do not consider myself a feminist, although I am staunchly pro-woman. I have never felt comfortable with the title of "feminist" because I disagree with many of the most-loudly broadcast feminist issues, particularly those that involve devaluing motherhood. As I said last May, I feel that the most loudly heard feminist issues seem to be those that urge women to be like men, and in the long run I think that brings down both men and women.

However, a few months ago I had a conversation with my friend Jenne who expressed the thought that she also didn't agree with all of "feminism," however she found that she did agree with many things, and felt like it made more sense to stand with it than against it, in spite of her differences.
Well that's logical.
She is certainly not my only feminist friend, but I guess of all the ones who use that title for themselves, she was the one I related to in the right ways in the right moment. And so I've been thinking... because I have a habit of adjusting my opinions when I learn new information, and that applies to parenting, politics, spirituality, and apparently to feminism. Perhaps I have more in common with them than I realized. I do not personally feel repressed, but I can see societal trends that are certainly disgusting and unhealthy (The "Killing Us Softly" series about images of women in advertising series comes to mind). I also see a lot of women who have been taught to distrust themselves, their intuition, and their bodies. I have written many posts here about trusting our bodies in birthing, listening to our gut in parenting, and I think that this trust of the female self IS lacking in our society. So while I'm not out burning bras or demanding a job as a CEO, I realize that I am something of a feminist activist when I write about my experiences or beliefs about birthing or miscarriage or being a faithful keeper of my home and family.

I still do not exactly consider myself a "Feminist" per se--I greatly prefer the term "Egalitarian," because rather than focusing on equality for one gender over another, it simply promotes fairness for everybody, regardless of gender, race, creed, or practice.

Merriam Webster defines egalitarianism as

1: a belief in human equality especially with respect to social, political, and economic affairs

2: a social philosophy advocating the removal of inequalities among people

However, if you want to call me a feminist, well, I suppose the boot fits. ☺

My feet. In boots. Sexy woman boots. With heels.