As a girl, growing up with all sisters, I never really thought about having only boys. I always thought about having kids, but never really what gender they'd be. Even being pregnant I knew I was having a son first but didn't think much of it. Then, the day he was born the doctor laid him on my chest and as fast as my heart leapt, my stomach dropped. Not because he was a boy and I didn't know what to do with him. But because I had to raise a son to become a man. I didn't know how to do that! Maybe I still don't? Then there were two more sons to follow. Now with a house full of testosterone I wouldn't have it any other way. I admit I feel out numbered and alone sometimes, but God knew what he was doing...I have 4 sisters and no brothers. I have plenty of support.
My three little guys. They are older now but not by much!
This is a photo of my sisters and me. We were younger then too!
I never really looked down on guys when I was growing up. I just never had the opportunity to live with them. In our house the rule was, there are no such things as boy or girl chores...there were just chores. And we did what we had to do. Then, I grew up and got married and all that had to adjust. First, as our family got larger I couldn't continue to be in charge of so much around the house. I did the inside and outside work. Yard work has always been a love of mine. This meant we had to figure our home life out. My husband and I didn't have a smoothly sailing ship for many years. There was miscommunication and hurt feelings. Then as the kids got older they were expected to carry more of the responsibility.
So here is what I have learned about the male gender. They really aren't that different. Yes my boys should be a little less dramatic and hysterical through their teen years, but I paid up front for that. In their early years they have boundless amounts of energy that has nearly killed me. But those differences aren't what's important to our Father in Heaven. He wants us to find common ground in this life. Besides a gender we are individuals. We need to see our differences on a personal level. Not because of gender or upbringing.
The men in our lives play their part. I may not see my husband all day, but when he gets home he's present. He takes time for himself when he needs it, but I know anytime I call his name he will come help me. When we were first married that wasn't the case. We both searched to find fault with the other and looked for reasons to feel offended. After years of struggle and growth we now have a better understanding of how our marriage can work. But through all the of the hurt, on my part, the most important thing I learned is that he hurts too. He worries, he gets tired, and he gets lost. The whole point of our marriage changed. We didn't just need each other, we wanted to help one another. It wasn't about what I wanted him to become better at doing, it was what can I do to help him improve.
To give an example of this, let me share a story. When I was pregnant with our second son I didn't feel well at all. From day one I just didn't feel good. I was tired and couldn't catch my breath. My husband traveled out of the country often for his job. One day when I was 25 weeks along I couldn't take it anymore. I made an appointment to see my OB that day! As soon as I got to the office I could see the doctor and nurses were worried. I was extremely out of breath and looked like death (I'm sure). The doctor quickly had me walk to the perinatal floor in the hospital to have some tests run on my lungs and heart. As soon as I had changed out of my clothes and into the, lovely, hospital gown a nurse whisked me away for a chest x-ray. Which they don't do, normally, on pregnant women. That was my first clue that something was really wrong. When I got back to my room I got hooked up to all the baby monitors. The baby's heart rate was fine and he was moving. After trying to get comfortable for about 30 minutes the nurse came in and asked me how I felt. I told her, "HORRIBLE"! I was so tired and couldn't get to sleep and I just hurt everywhere. She then replied, "Well you're having regular contractions". So, that explained a lot! After a quick check she determined I was almost 3 centimeters dilated and the baby had dropped. Then I turned into one of "those" women. You know, the ones that immediately go "No that's not going to work for me. The baby has to stay in for a lot longer! I'm going to go now. Could you just hand me my clothes?" After calling my husband and informing him, I immediately called my mom. She then explained to me that she was out of town because one of my sisters was in labor as well. The difference being, she was suppose to be in labor! LOL So I stayed in the hospital overnight. The entire night was spent with nurses coming in trying to get the contractions to subside. At 3am they stopped and I finally got some sleep. The next morning I was released to my husband for bed rest. I had three months just to make it to 36 weeks. Which I did by the skin of my teeth. I hated every minute of it and wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy!
Through all of that I never once thought about how my poor husband must have been feeling. He needed to work so that we could survive financially, but he also wanted to be home with me and our oldest son who needed him. Unfortunately, it wasn't until years later that I realized he was more scared than us all! He stood to lose his wife and son. Then he would be left to raise one child on his own. If I could tell young wives one thing it would be to remember that he matters. Whoever that is. Whether it be your spouse, father, son, bishop, whomever. They matter, and they need help too. They don't have it as easy as we may sometimes think. "Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God". Even the boy souls!
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