Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Time to move....

I knew it would come to this... I wasn't ready though. Although I had been very open about my pregnancy with my family I had chosen only a few VERY close friends to tell, a few being my photographer--who also happened to be my best friend at the time (www.lindsayjanestudios.com), and the bishop of the ward that I was in. The ward that we were in at the time was the ward that my mother had grown up in, my grandfather had been bishop and stake president of and I felt that if a lot of people knew I was pregnant, I'd be disgracing my family.

I remember that Sunday morning very clearly. I had popped over night, I wasn't "that" pregnant but I couldn't hide it any more. My clothes weren't fitting me and no amount of "suck and tuck" grandma panties were going to help me. Walking into the church I was desperately trying to "suck in" my stomach but gave up when nothing changed. Almost to the doors of the church my mother turned to me and with a slight glare stated very harshly "SUCK IN YOUR STOMACH!" My heart broke inside. I had hurt my mother and continued to hurt her every day. That was the point that I knew I needed to move. I couldn't stay in the place that my parents called home and embarrass them because of my poor choice. I just didn't know where I would go.

Later that night my prayers were answered by this wonderfully amazing family.
My mothers sister Debbie and her husband Alan. That night Debbie called my mom and dad and let them know that they would be willing to open their home to me. Allow me to live their through the majority of my pregnancy. My dad at first said no because he worried what impact me living there (pregnant) might have on their 3 children. My mom said we'd talk about it. When my mom and dad sat me down and told me what Debbie and Alan had called and told me I almost cried, Heavenly Father had answered my prayers. While I too was concerned about the impact it may have on their three children Debbie let us know that they had already asked their children and that they had, as a family, decided it would be fine.

So I packed up my stuff and the next night moved to Draper. Debbie the Relief Society President, and Alan the just release bishop were WONDERFUL to say the least. Their ward was full of angels who accepted me for who I was not the mistake that I had made. They made me feel welcome and loved, something I thought wouldn't happen in my "condition".

I would still occasionally go up to Layton and spend time with the family, INSIDE. But the freedom that I had in draper was amazing. Debbie and Alan--and their kids--are angels to me, Always will be.

To skip forward a bit (the day of placement) I need to give Debbie more credit where credit is due. It was a Monday--one that I'm sure she could have spent doing other things--, the only day that I was able to spend alone with Ally in my room. I had told family and friends that I didn't want them to come and see me. It was my time with Ally. I told everyone that but Debbie. I wanted, no I needed her there with me. She once again was my angel. She sat with me, cried with me, took pictures of me and Ally, bought clothes for Ally (she had one too many blow outs), and was there when I once again needed her.

I don't know if I would have been able to do what I did if it weren't for my angel family. Every single one of my aunts at one point came to see me and let me know how proud of me they were. They spent time with me, held me when I needed them to, and buoyed up my spirits when no one else could. So to Andrea, Paula, Debbie, Sandra, and Grandma--Thank you, Thank You, THANK YOU!!!

2 comments:

Mishqueen said...

I realize this comment is coming over a year too late, but I want to ask if you feel the same way still (after the whole experience is over), about being sent away to not shame your family? I'm no feminist, but I'm sure there is something I don't understand that is making my half-informed self think that this looks like the dark ages.

I agree with you about being cautious about the effect of seemingly approving an unmarried pregnancy in a home with youth. But it's one thing when it's your cousin...it's a whole different story when it's your daughter.

I'm an active member of the church, and the gospel I grew up with says that premarital sex is wrong. But also that shame is a tool used by the adversary to make us feel bad about ourselves, which puts us in danger of forgetting that we are still of divine heritage even if we have made a serious error.

I believe you are/were still a child of God with unlimited potential, and still worthy of respect ESPECIALLY since you were not taking the easy way out...nay, the HARD way out, the better way. I think sending you away was the wrong choice. BUT as I said, I don't have the whole story. Maybe away from home is where your true blessings lay.

How do you feel about it now?

Katelyn Krum Shaw said...

I know I made the right decision. My mother and I didn't have the best relationship at that point in my life, as you can tell from her comment, and I knew I had hurt her. I had NO idea until that day how deep the hurt ran. To further explain the situation.... At the time my family was still coming to terms with the fact that I was pregnant. I had a brother that had just returned home from his mission and we were rather new in the ward. In a sense I did feel shunned by my mother. At the same time I now realize that the distance was something she needed to deal with the situation. I'm the only girl in the family and my mother had A LOT of expectations and hopes for me. She felt that when I got pregnant those were all out the window (a lot of those hopes and expectations for me have yet to come true....). Another reason I moved is because I myself was ashamed. I didn't want to face people yet. I still needed time to realize I was pregnant. Silly I say that but it's true. I didn't want to face the judgments of people I knew. I could face the judging eyes of those I didn't but it was too hurtful to disappoint even more people. The time away from home was healing for me and my mother. And even my father (although at the time I didn't realize it). So yes while it seems like the "dark ages" it was right for me.