Five tenets of a pro-life advocate

[This post is published at Live Action News.]

In Portland, Oregon, in 1981, just eight short years after Roe vs. Wade passed, I was born to two fervent pro-life activists. 

Our home was the headquarters of traditional yet uncompromising pro-life advocacy. My father and his friend vigilantly interviewed those running for office and published the Voter's Guide for Oregon Right to Life. My mother and her friends stood outside of local abortion clinics, attempting to make contact with women to help them see the value of the lives in their wombs. Then they threw them baby showers.

In high school and college, I wanted my turn fighting on the balance beam of life and death. But in my college town, there was (thankfully) no abortion clinic to protest. Where did I belong?

Then a troubling new theme emerged, which forced a new bent to my activism. I began to meet women who went through with abortion, but not because it was their choice. They were forced, one by an abusive boyfriend and another by unsupportive parents. 

The polarized abortion movements offered them no options either. They were either supposed to embrace with pride their right to an abortion, or slink into the shadows as a new accusation of "Murderer" hung over their heads. How are these real choices? 

During college I studied social work, and after a few years in the field, my advocacy continues to evolve. Today I find myself among one of the highest-stress populations: military families. Social workers are thoroughly trained to swallow personal opinions. But I know lives are stake here. 

In my work today, these five beliefs and actions serve as my guide:

1. I believe "Every woman wants to raise her child". I realize this is not true in every circumstance, but this is the belief I operate under when talking with women sitting on the fence of abortion, adoption, or raising her child. The stories I've heard about women having abortions were nearly all out of fear and lack of options. But what if she had options? What if she felt supported? I believe in these conditions, most women want to raise their own child. 

Read the rest at Live Action News. 

How To Know You're Not Pregnant

[Pregnant or think you might be? Visit the resource listing on this site for help.]

It wasn't long after I wed my knight in shining armor that I realized something new and strange about myself. I changed my mind - I wanted a baby. 

This was a complete 180 degree turn from the weepy meltdown I had in the car on the way home from premarital counseling in March 2008. That was back when I was a first-year baby protester. But at this premarital counseling session our pastors made a compelling argument against the pill, and we couldn't argue. That afternoon Josh and I decided that we were not going to use birth control pills, which was precisely the day I knew for sure we were going to have a baby on our honeymoon. And I was going to cry. It was all planned out. 

I proceeded to cry-whine uncontrollably for the hour between Kansas City and Topeka. It was a long hour...for Josh.

It didn't help that Cozumel, our honeymoon destination, was known as "the Mayan island of fertility". The airline attendant gleefully warned us of this as we boarded our final plane. I pondered the strong possibility that this "blessing" might also apply to non-Mayans. I rebuked it, just in case.

Not that anyone's asking, but one of the the details that matters a little here is Josh and I were not sexually active before we got hitched. So a baby was never a worry, never a thought. I had a vague thought that I wanted to wait at least a year, but never in my life had this been an issue. As the big day approached, I visited the doc and got a pill prescription, went to the pharmacy and picked it up. I remembering taking that little brown bag back to the apartment, and I knew I was a big girl now. 

Big girl pills. [Photo credit: scientificamerican.com]

Then the pastors told us their story about non-pill use and it was just terrible because we agreed with their logic. Something about how the pill makes the uterus unfriendly to a fertilized egg, which to Josh and I (because we're armed with archaic, fundamentalist science), is a human with a soul. And even though they weren't trying to convince us of anything, they did precisely that. I couldn't handle the thought of meeting a bunch of my kids in heaven. "Oh hey, I didn't know about you...um, this awkward. Nice to meet you." (For the record, I am still not really sure about when humanity begins, but do you want to be the one to find out you were wrong? I don't want to be.)

So anyway, the moral of the story is that in my pre-marriage opinion, the worst thing that could have happened to me would have been a pregnancy, a human life growing inside me, a (gasp!) baby. 

Then I got married and something changed. I had thoughts about babies that didn't involve me turning into a pool of disappointment and rage. This was new. I wrote about it here, about how I could feel the biological clock had turned on. And I could hear it ticking. It was making me want a baby. Darn you, Mayan Cozumel water. If they couldn't get you pregnant, they were going to make you miserable until you wanted a baby so bad you just went ahead and had one. 

I started investing in those little white sticks that tell you if there's a human growing inside of you, pregnancy tests I think they're called. (Right, like I don't know. In reality, I can tell you the ratings of most of them and which ones are most likely to give you a false positive. Or I can tell you where to find out.)

Every few weeks, I started paying attention to the symptoms they listed as pregnancy symptoms on WebMD. I quickly became convinced each month my symptoms indicated that if I didn't have a horrendous case of stage 4 uterine cancer with complications in my thyroid, that I was in fact pregnant. 

Cramping? Check.

Soreness in certain unmentionable locations? Check.

Cranky, irritability? Got that one on lock.

Nausea? Did you know you can make yourself nauseous on cue? Well I can. Special talent.

Fatigue? Um, sure.

Frequent trips to the bathroom? You bet.

So every month I was pregnant. Or almost pregnant. Some months I took more than one test, just to be sure. Those symptoms sure were tricky. You can get them almost any time, like after running a 10k, or drinking 2 gallons of water. Or eating week old pasta. So you just have to have a box or two of them around, just to be sure. 

I took a picture of it so I could show my friend. And myself. Yup,  this one was real.

Well, one day when I had quite given up, run out of tests in fact, my friend at work gave me her extra ones. She was pregnant and didn't need any more convincing. I took the freebie test one Saturday morning when Josh was at work, just for fun. Because at this time it was a hobbie like kayaking and scrapbooking are for some (normal) people. 

But this one was positive. And wouldn't you know it, being pregnant felt exactly the same as almost or not at all pregnant, which warranted a second test-taking venture four weeks later, just to be sure. 

The second moral of the story, because I can have two, is that I am quite adept at knowing when I am not pregnant. And darn right rotten at knowing when I am. So if I ever seem a bit off, a little wobbly perhaps, or a little snarky or rude, tired or glazed over, if it looks like I had one too many drinks the night before, you can assume that I am pregnant. Or that I think I am. 

But really, until I am, I am not.

You Know You're a Mom Monday

Sarah and her #2, Gigi

This week we hear from our most experienced mom yet, Sarah Madgwick, a mom of three - and almost four - with somewhere around 11 or 12 (combined) years of mommyhood wisdom.  Sarah and I know each other from church, and even though our children haven't spent considerable time together (yet), I always enjoy listening to her frank take on marriage, parenting and "Churchianity". Sarah tells it like it is, which instantly instills trust, sometimes inspires laughter, and ensures you'll never wonder where you stand with her. A full-time, stay-at-home mum, she's got all the creative genius you hope you'll have when you have this much parenting under your belt. For example, just from watching her, I learned how to wipe a snotty nose and trick your kid into thinking you're just playing a little game with them. (She may not even remember this, but I do, and now John can tolerate having his little sniffler wiped down every so often.)


Sarah blogs regularly at In The Mix, where you can check out her family happenings, hear the insides of her brain and see pictures of her littles, who are adorable, of course. 

The Madgwick family, before there was three.

And then there were three.

Good parenting = kids who actually like each other most of the time, right? :) 

I have clever, crafty, creative friends who could show me at a 4-H show any day. But I'm okay with this since we're not actually in competition. Here's one of the quilts Sarah made for one of her kiddos. I really have no idea how she has time for this sort of thing after she's done keeping house and keeping up three littles. But alas, somehow she manages. This quilt here happens to be my favorite. I love all the whimsical fabrics she chose. Does she sell them? I don't know. You should ask her. Stop by her blog to see. 

Lovely, isn't it? 

So without further ado, here's installment #7 of You Know You're a Mom, served up fresh and sassy from Sarah Madgwick:


You know you're a mom when things come out of your mouth that would never otherwise come out in normal adult conversation, things you would be mortified to have to ask/say to another human being over the age of 10.  Here are a few gems that make their way into regular conversation with my kids on a regular basis:

"No, toilets are not play things."

"Your penis is, in fact, attached to your body.  You do not need to check every 5 minutes to make sure it hasn't left you."  

"No, mommy doesn't need a helper while I use the toilet. Thank you for your concern."

"Strictly speaking, candy for breakfast isn't generally a good thing."

Uh oh.

"Please stop squishing your baby sister.  I know she's laughing but things can go quickly wrong in this scenario." 

"Show me what is in your mouth."

"The table is for eating on, not sitting on." 

"Are you poopy?" 

"Do you need to go to the bathroom?"  

"I said 5 minutes, not 78 100." (we're still working on getting the concept of bigger numbers)
"No, you cannot run like a wild thing through the parking lot.  Cars cannot see you and will run right over your under 4 ft tall body." 

"Will you please go make sure your baby sister doesn't fall off the loft bed?"  (Clementine has discovered how much fun climbing ladders is. Yikes!)

"No, the police will not shoot you if you speed."

"No, you do not go to jail for not wearing your seatbelt." (We obviously had some confusion about the roll of law enforcement.)

and my personal favorite...

"No, mommy and daddy do not need your help.  No, please do not try to unlock the door.  We'll be out in a few minutes.  What are we doing?  Umm...mommy's helping daddy with something."  ;)  

These are fantastic, Sarah. Your honesty is hilariously refreshing, as always. Thanks so much for giving me an idea of what my next few years might look like. 


[Thanks to the many moms who have been participating. It's been so fun to hear from each of you. If you want to participate for the first time, or want to come through for round 2, just send your You Know You're a Mom ideas to sarah@thewellhub.com, along with your website, business or whatever else you'd like promoted. Looking forward to hearing from you.]