In December of 2006 I found out that I was pregnant with child number two. One week later I was so sick I couldn't even work. I kept going to the doctor and they would say any week now, I'd feel better. Well I never did. I stayed super sick my entire pregnancy, and almost lost child number two to some certain tragedies. The first one happened in March of 2007. My older sister, whom I am very close to and protective of, called and told me that my younger adopted brother (13 years old) had molested my 4 year old niece and she was headed to the hospital. My parents were scheduled to leave the country the following day for two weeks and had asked my sister to watch the remaining 5 children living at home. Upon arriving at the hospital and waiting the entire day to be seen (which isn't supposed to be how it is) she found out in the waiting room from my niece that he'd actually raped her. The following day I drove over to my parents to talk to them. When I got there my sister answered the door and the look on her face still sends chills down my back. I knew in that instant my parents had left. I ran in the house grabbed the phone and called my dad to yell at him for the next hour. How could he leave my sister like this, leave my niece in the house she was raped? It was a nightmare. They thought it was just fine since they sent to offender to stay with my grandparents. The whole thing seemed so unreal, even now. How could the two people I've looked up to all my life be doing this?
They cut their vacation short when I finally took matters up with my grandpa and told him that he needed to tell them to come home. So they cut their vacation in half and came home. Never apologized, they only complained of how much money they had lost. I was blown away, were they really so blind and so cold? I went numerous times to my bishop looking for answers on how to handle this. Did I really have to forgive all the people that were hurting my sister, niece and I so much? His advice would comfort me, but only until I left, and then I was alone in my thoughts and I would have the same disturbing thoughts. My pregnancy went from bad to worse. My doctor told me that if I didn't quit losing weight she would hospitalize me, she put me on anti-depressants, and I felt somewhat better. There was always this hole in my heart though, I wasn't getting answers I needed.
A few months later, my brother who had been home for a year from his mission, announced that he was gay. It honestly didn't surprise me, I had wondered as much since his return from home, but once he said it out in the open, I found myself thinking, "Well I can't accept what he's doing but I still need to love him." Then my mind heard the echoing thought and I asked myself, "Could I ever live my life alone?" The answer was an immediate no. I had a raging battle going on inside, I never had peace because my church taught thoughts were fighting with my instincts. Although I never saw myself clearly during this process, I did see the way my husband would look at me. I could see the horror and pain in his eyes when he looked at me, he was so worried. My doctor kept threatening to hospitalize me, but I always told her I would do worse away from my husband and daughter.
A couple of weeks after that, and many visits with my bishop, I went into the hospital one night because I didn't feel right. I figured I was just dehydrated. I went in and was hooked up to the monitors and an IV. I found out quickly that I was having regular contractions and they began taking action to stop my labor. On top of all the shots of medicine they gave me my labor was progressing and my doctor came in to help. They started giving me shots to help the baby's lungs develop in case they couldn't stop my labor. I had an amino-centesis which gave the read out that my babies lungs were not yet developed and if born would be in NICU for many weeks. My doctor finally got her way and I was admitted to the hospital. Eventually they were able to stop my labor, but I kept going into labor every 10-12 hours that week, every time they were able to stop me after a couple of hours. I was finally able to go home after a week of being hospitalized. I had to convince my doctor by telling her how little sleep I was getting, and I wasn't able to eat that disgusting hospital food. I seriously lived off of apple juice and saltine crackers while I was there.
After being discharged I went home, I had to take 16 pills a day at that point, four of which were to keep me from going back into labor. After getting home, I began my think about why I was unable to resolve these things in my mind. I didn't necessarily need to understand, but I needed to make some serious decisions and eventually closure. After a lot of thinking I realized that the main thing that bothered me was that at any life changing point I always ran to the bishop or the churches website to learn how I should handle it or what I should do or think. I realized I wasn't trusting myself to know what I should do. So then I thought, what do I really think about all that's happened? How should I handle it? As soon as I took on that approach I began feeling at peace, I started to know what made sense to do, and how I felt about my present situation. I felt peace.
After coming to many conclusions, I realized that there were a few that were against the churches standards. The one that is the most obvious was that I felt it was just fine with me if my brother was gay and that he pursued that lifestyle. He finally seemed genuinely happy. But I knew that the church didn't believe this and if I believed in the church I couldn't support him. So then I had to decide what I wanted to do with the church. Within that same week my mother stated that my father and her were going to sit down with him and tell him either he had to get therapy or move out. I had to choke back the laughter, luckily it wasn't to hard to do while I was so angry with her at the same time.
Their meeting needless to say ended with them kicking him out. He moved in with some friends and quit coming around. I continued to think, isn't this in direct conflict with what the church teaches? Family first. My parents were worried the affect having someone gay living in their home on the other children. But the rapist can stay, hmmmm. That really made my head spin. At this point I quiet literally quit trying to understand, I gave up. The church couldn't be true if people were treated like this. It just isn't right. My mother actually wrote my brother a letter stating that he was perfect if not for this one thing. Why couldn't he overcome it and be the great person he should be within the church. It was disgusting how he was being treated. I knew the church was wrong.
I kept my feelings to myself, buried not ready to let anyone know of my doubts. I had my daughter, which ironically after having this turn of events I was able to gain all of my lost weight back and make it full term. The stress was gone. I continued to go to church, we blessed our little darling. Then it turned to cold season and I quit going to church to avoid RSV. I didn't want my new little one getting sick. After a few weeks I noticed I was so much happier. My mind was clearer and I was accomplishing more. Then my visiting teachers came for a visit, gave the message and left. The rest of the night and the next couple of days, I just felt guilty. I realized that the church was making me live in this cloud where all I felt was insufficient and unworthy. I realized I wanted no part of it.
A few weeks after that my husband went to a poker night with some non-member friends. I went to bed and woke up for one of the nightly feedings to find he wasn't there. I knew it either had to be a really good game going, or something was up, but I went back to bed. Sleep deprivation always wins. The next morning after my husband woke up, he told me he had a few drinks and thats why he came home so late. He didn't want to drive under the influence and he was super guilty. I looked at him, visibly seeing the drain that this entire last year had had on him, and was so upset that he would feel guilty. I wasn't mad in the least, I was concerned because I had never been around alcohol and didn't know exactly what this meant, but I was not mad.
The following Sunday he met with the bishop, he wanted to make things right and not "sway" again. I thought this was unnecessary, even God couldn't be mad at this, he would understand even better than I. I found myself angry that he felt like he needed to confess to the bishop at all. Guilt should have nothing to do with this. My husband has the biggest heart of anyone I know, and to see him feel guilty over this was unbearable. The next couple of weeks was a lot of soul searching and pondering. I finally had the courage to talk to my husband. He told me that he had seen a huge change in me and wasn't going to tell me what choice to make, but he'd support me with any choice I made. That was a relief but not very helpful, so I talked to a couple of really close friends, the kind who can keep a secret and don't judge. One of which I was surprised to find, felt very much the same as me. She hadn't really been going to church, and only wore her garments when she needed to. We had a lot of the same ideas and conclusions, but she didn't want to deal with upsetting everyone.
Once again I was upset that the church made another person I loved feel so guilty, it's just not right. A few days after that I officially made up my mind that I wasn't going to go back to church ever and took off my garments. I knew there were a few people I should tell before they found out through other means. So I told my MIL and SIL first. I must say, I have amazing in laws. They told me they loved me no matter what and wished me the best. I confided in them that even though they might not agree with what I was doing I desperately needed their support because once my parents found out, they were likely to be my only family afterwards.
My mother found out from my sister, called me and made some wild accusations. I knew underneath it all she was really just hurt so I remained calm and tried to answer her questions. The phone conversation ended when she told me my husband was an alcoholic and I told her I never wanted to speak to her again and hung up. I ended up mailing them a letter because talking civily like adults just wasn't going to happen. So far, I haven't heard from them.
The time I left the church coincided with my best friend surprisingly, and not so surprisingly her mother blamed her for my leaving. But I've been so glad to have her as a support, someone who knows what I'm feeling. She told me about his website when I told her I wanted to look into some of the things I've heard about the church. It's been an extraordinary resource. I've learned so much about the LDS church. It's been enlightening and I am so happy that I didn't live my life dedicated to something so untrue, something that threatens the very thing it claims to support, families. As for my little family, I'm lucky they won't get the chance to hurt us.