Trust

My husband and I started charting during our engagement; that's where this post begins.

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I tell clients all the time, "When you can talk about mucus, you can talk about anything."

But, it's so much more than talking about mucus and sharing a personal part of your womanhood with someone else.

It is, more deeply, about trust.

For me, I had to trust he wasn't going to leave me for another woman because this charting business was too difficult (or would be when we got married). I had to trust that he loved me, including my fertility. In a world with a contraceptive mentality and agenda, I had to trust he was on the same page and equally passionate about this natural method of family planning. I had to trust he would continue to think I was beautiful even after trying to explain to him what kind of discharge I saw that day. Sometimes, folks, this was not a pretty convo...

but I digress...

I remember the fear that struck me when I would see more than five white stickers with babies on them (these days are considered fertile in the Creighton world) because that meant that when we got married, that would be five days we would have to abstain.  Was he really going to be okay with that?  Was I?  Did it really matter? 

I also remember the worry that flooded me when I had three months of straight green stamps (these days are considered infertile in the Creighton world).  Gosh, would we be able to get pregnant if I don't have any days of fertility?  Would he stick around if I couldn't give him biological children?

What about all the worry I had about using a natural system.... would we be able to trust God enough to remain committed to our decision?  Would we be able to willingly give our physical relationship, and our fertility as a couple to God, charts, and stickers?  Would one of us 'give up' when the system didn't go the way we planned?  Valid concerns, right?

But you know what's so wonderful about all of these concerns and fears?  My husband's ability to   recognize them and put them to rest through his total acceptance of my fertility.  No matter how crazy my charts looked at times, he got it, folks.  He understood the beauty of my fertility in a very raw and holy way. I didn't have to worry about too many white stamps with babies on them or extended periods of green stamps because that was a part of who I was, and he embraced it.  He accepted me -- holistically, and through it, I learned to trust him, and together we learned to trust God's plan for our marriage.  His plan for us and the use of a natural system.

Surprisingly, the more he learned about how God designed me and understood my fertility, the more he awakened my femininity. Interestingly, I felt more feminine because my fertility was being respected and upheld by another.  I was blessed to have my husband be the person to tell me that my fertility wasn't a mistake in God's design and....

...if nothing else, if no other purpose for this blog, I hope and pray to be that person in a woman's life to say, "I respect your fertility." It is THAT important.

"Pretending Pretty"

pret·ty

1. Pleasing or attractive in a graceful or delicate way.

2. Clever; adroit: a pretty maneuver.

3. Very bad; terrible: in a pretty predicament; a situation that has reached a pretty pass.

4. Ostensibly or superficially attractive but lacking substance or conviction: full of pretty phrases.

If I read through this list of possibly definitions for pretty, the one I most identified with a few years ago is...

#4: Ostensibly (apparent, seeming, pretended) or superficially attractive but lacking substance or conviction. 

But doesn't every woman want to be (including me)...

#1: pleasing or attractive in a graceful or delicate way?

Graceful, delicate, non-threatening ... peaceful.  I mean, this girl would have composure.  She would carry herself well and exude confidence;  she would have a presence about her that silently exclaimed, "I am a beautiful daughter of God, and I am loved!"

I wanted to be that pretty.

Gosh, it's hard.  Being a woman is hard.  Not to sound cliché, but women are bombarded with all that is opposite of attractive, graceful, or delicate.  Was high school like that for any of you?  For me, high school meant an eating disorder and a wounded dignity.  Ugh.  I knew I was hurting, but eventually that hurt became an ache I 'just got used to' and it throbbed and throbbed and throbbed.

I was simply 'pretending pretty.' 

(I will not attribute the remainder of this post solely to Creighton, but it played an integral part in it.)

con•vic•tion

1. a fixed or firm belief.

This is a scary word, huh?  Fixed seems so permanent, but isn't it what women need  -- a solid belief  we are pretty?

After years of feeling achy, I wanted to know this truth, but I didn't know where to find it.  This wasn't something Dr. Google could solve... so, I prayed instead (smile).  I asked God to help, and He answered my prayers in the most unusual way.

In His infinite wisdom and creativity, He introduced me to charting...

Someone once shared with me: to calm chaos, simply start by bringing order to it.  That said,  charting brought order to my 'chaos' --- the chaos left from years of a wounded dignity. Through the patterns and predictability with every cycle, I began to see myself a little clearer in my chaos; through a different lens I saw I was wonderfully made, and my body was working with me and not against me.  The charts uncluttered things for me enough to acknowledge my insecurities.  Once I acknowledged them, I unraveled the slew of negative feelings and emotions that accompanied those insecurities and began to heal.

Cycle after cycle, I remember working through some very deep wounds -- it was an ugly process, but I have more peace and happiness now than before I began charting.  That's got to account for something!  Did charting solve all my deep self-worth issues?  No.  But it certainly helped work through the thick of it, and I can say with conviction, today:

"I am pretty."

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How about you? Are you pretending pretty?