The Truth About Missions and Motherhood

Last night at about midnight I was awakened by Nayeli screaming from her crib. I found her feverish, and as I was just about to give her some Motrin and nurse her back to sleep, I felt a sickening splash on my face and shoulder. A quick flick of the light switch revealed last night's dinner on my cheek and shirt. Ugh.

Thankfully (insert sarcastic tone here) I have a husband who is a complete zombie when awakened in the middle of the night (remember how at 1:30 am he was driving to the hospital going 5mph under the speed limit while I was having contractions every 2 minutes?). However, in Ben's defense, he was able to get a grasp of reality long enough to hold the screaming Nayeli while I cleaned up myself and changed her. He then retreated back to our bedroom while I rocked our sick girl. Before sunrise I had changed my shirt three times. Needless to say, it was a long night.

By this morning, I had drafted an idea in my head on how to prepare those who are contemplating parenthood. I'd like to introduce it by way of an analogy. I'll call it the Sister Missionary analogy.

Lately, numerous LDS girls are going on missions and I think it's amazing. But for me, there's a caveat. Everyone tells them, "Oh it's wonderful! It'll be the best 18 months of your life! You're going to love it!" And they're right. It is all those things and more. But where is the person who sits each one down and says, "We need to have a chat. Has anyone told you how hard this is going to be? Has anyone mentioned that there will be MULTIPLE TIMES that you will wonder why in the world you went on a mission? That you will give anything for a plane ticket home?"

For me, it was my sister Christina. She served in the Dominican Republic in the 1990's. To say she had a taxing mission would be putting it mildly. She bathed from a bucket and never had a shower, was constantly battling parasites, lost a large portion of her hair, and had companions who hated and refused to speak to her. She even told me that at one point she prayed she would break her leg so she could be sent home.

Like the others I've described, she told me about the good of the mission. But because she took time to tell me about the bad, it helped me a lot. I knew it would be great, while at the same time knowing that it would be really really hard. And I did encounter a lot that tested me to my max, physically and emotionally. But I always had Tina's voice in my head saying, "It's okay. It's normal for it to be hard. It will be worth it".


Just for fun, here are a few photos of a few things that tested me physically (as to not incriminate former companions, investigators, or members, I will not be posting pictures of the things that emotionally taxed me :) ).

Giant cockroaches

 The ants and mosquitoes were vicious. My legs were covered with bites like this my entire mission and I had scars for a year or two after. Also, please marvel at my amazing tan lines from my shoes.

 Washing my clothes by hand in the shower (thankfully I did have a shower in all my areas).
This typically took almost all of our preparation day.

 The lizard I had to chase out of the house with a broom

 The spider I killed in our house. My nametag is on the ground to show it's size. 

 It jumped at me as I went to spray it. Note the huge pincers on the front of it's head.

But back to my idea. What if we apply the "chat" I received before my mission to motherhood? Wouldn't it be nice if a seasoned mom sat down with each girl who was considering motherhood and said, "We need to have a chat. Has anyone told you how hard this is going to be? Has anyone mentioned that there will be MULTIPLE TIMES that you will wonder why in the world you became a mother? That you will give anything for a plane ticket to Hawaii or anywhere else for that matter?"

It would be even more effective if the seasoned mothers were wearing shirts with spit up on them or pants with the remains of a blow-out on the thigh. And then, when times got hard for the new mom, she could remember the words of the seasoned mother saying, "It's okay. It's normal for it to be hard. It will be worth it".

Initially, when I woke this morning, I felt robbed. Where was the person that could have told me I would be awakened in the middle of the night only to be vomited on? Where was the seasoned mother who would let me know what it was really going to be like?

Then I realized that it doesn't matter. It wouldn't have diminished my desire to be a mother. Just like my sister's talk never lessened my desire to be a missionary. In fact, last night, after the mess was cleaned up and I held my daughter snuggled against my chest, I felt there was no where else I'd rather be.

In both the mission and motherhood, the sweet greatly outweighs the trial. The sweet is what keeps you going. There is nothing harder, but there is also nothing better.

 

*Note: My example is specific to sister missionaries because in my opinion, the mission is an entirely different battle for the sisters than the Elders. Both face similar problems in the mission, but my observation has been that the sisters deal with the stress and difficulties in the mission in a different way than the Elders. And, of course, I was never an Elder so I can't speak for what helps prepare them for a mission. I am just speaking from my own observations and experiences.