Amanda's Story | Walk Two Moons

“Don't judge a man until you have walked two moons in his moccasins.”

This is the headline quote from my childhood favorite book “Walk Two Moons.”

When I was asked to join in on “The Journey Project” blog series on bringing people together through trials, I felt unqualified to say the least.

Life’s been pretty smooth sailing around here for awhile.  Sure, my husband’s in dental school and last night I spent three hours rocking a fussy baby to sleep before he got home at 10:00 p.m.  Oh, and I haven’t slept more than 4 hours in a week, but things are good.  I deal with the normal, expected challenges that come with being a mother of young children.

I see so many others going through heart-wrenching challenges, and my heart breaks for them, I wish so badly that I could take away all the hurt in the world, and I wonder why I have been so blessed.

It is those times that I remember, that it wasn’t always this way.

There was a time when my arms ached for a baby.  My journey with infertility was so short and easily managed that I hesitate to even mention it, because it pales in comparison to the journey’s of so many others.

However, I remember the days sitting in church watching all the young mothers with envy.  I remember one particular Sunday where no less than 4 girls announced their pregnancies, in a congregation where 15 couples were already pregnant.

The most infuriating thing were the couples who got pregnant without even trying.  They would say things like “well, I guess birth control isn’t 100%,” or “we weren’t planning it, but I guess we’ll make it work.”

I couldn’t believe that these people didn’t see the marvelous blessing that carrying a baby was, when there was nothing I wanted more, and I couldn’t have it.

But, I hadn’t “walked two moons” in their moccasins.

Sooner, rather than later, I got my positive pregnancy test, and we were elated. My thoughts (and internet browser) became consumed by finding the BEST diaper bag for function + fashion, cutesy baby clothes, and “is this weird pregnancy symptom normal.”

At our first appointment, we were shocked and elated to find that there was not one, but TWO babies growing in my belly.  I don’t have any twins in my family, and never expected to have them (even when they told me the chance of a twin pregnancy with my fertility treatment was 8-10%).  I felt like the Lord was blessing me for my year of waiting by growing my family a bit faster.

People asked me if I wanted a boy and a girl, or two girls, or two boys.  My husband and I debated.  I have always wanted a little girl to put bows on, buy cute dresses, and ya know, be my best friend.  Two girls seemed like a bad idea, my sister and I had our fair share of disagreements and we were 3 ½ years apart.  I couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be if we were competing in the same sports, and for the same boys.  Two boys seemed okay, but we decided a boy and a girl would be the best possible scenario.

It seemed like my “gender reveal” appointment would never come.  When it finally did, I couldn’t contain my excitement.  I’d been waiting to begin my shopping until I knew what the cute little peanuts were.  Plus, I wanted to name them!

The moment came, and our wishes were granted, a boy and a girl, just like we wanted.

Unfortunately, the unexpected also happened.

The ultrasound revealed that I was 3 cm dilated, and would likely go into labor at any moment. I was 20 weeks along, and the youngest surviving babies are at least 23-24 weeks.  If you want the long version of the story, you are welcome to read it on my personal blog here, but long story short, after a 5 day hospital stay, countless prayers and priesthood blessings, and efforts to stop labor, I delivered my sweet, perfect, babies.  

The weeks, and months, and even year after my loss were the hardest times I have ever experienced in my life.  I hated God for giving me hope, only to take it away, and my arms ached more than ever before for a living, breathing child.

One of the hardest things for me to experience during those weeks, was hearing others talk about the challenges of motherhood.  No one was cruel enough to bring these complaints up with me directly, but I often overheard complaints like.

“I’m so exhausted, I wish I could get just one night of sleep.”

“The baby cries ALL THE TIME, I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“I wish I could just get a little me time.”

All I could think was, at least your baby is ALIVE. Stop being so selfish.

But, I hadn’t “walked two moons” in their moccasins.

A short, (but seemingly endless) 7 months later, I found myself pregnant with a baby girl. She was born just short of 39 weeks gestation, 6 lbs, 11 oz, beautiful, and as fire-y as they come.

A few short weeks later, I found myself thinking.

“I’m so exhausted, I wish I could get just one night of sleep.”

“The baby cries ALL THE TIME, I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

“I wish I could just get a little me time.”

God had finally given me what I wanted, what I had dreamed of.  I was finally walking “two moons” in a new mom’s moccasins.

And it was hard. Really hard.

And I finally got what a loving Heavenly Father had been trying to teach me.

Infertility is hard. Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Baby Loss is hard.

But, you know what else!?

Motherhood is hard. Fussy babies are hard. Strong-willed toddlers are hard.

College is hard. Careers are hard. Depression is hard. Loneliness is hard.

Life is just downright hard.

I haven’t walked “two moons” in everyone’s moccassins, yet. But I want to.

As God's people, or as followers of Christ, we agree to bear one another's burdens, that they may be light.

Let’s all try to stop judging, and instead walk two moons in another’s moccasins, that all our burdens may become light.

Amanda, Columbus OH

You can continue to follow Amanda (and try her yummy recipes) on her blog Call Me Betty!

To Learn More about "The Journey Project" click here.