Accepting a Helping Hand

As a doctor's wife you have to be independent. There's just no way around it. If you're the kind of person who needs constant attention from your significant other you are going to have to chose between making a change towards independence, absolute misery, or in the worst case divorce. It's a trait that isn't always easy, but absolutely necessary to make it through the long hours your Dr Husband works. However, there is such thing as too much indepenendence.

I have spent so many hours being strong for my husband, so that he didn't feel guilty that he had to study or work late, that I convinced myself I could do this alone. I didn't need neighbors to help watch my kids for a while. I didn't need ward members to invite us over for dinner because my husband was on-call. I didn't need help because that meant I was weak, needy, and pitiful. Somehow I managed to convince myself of this. 

In medical school it was EXTREMELY rare for me to accept any kind of help, yet alone ask for it. Once we hit residency I started to feel a little more comfortable with both the accepting and asking, but only as long as I felt that it wasn't a big deal (like having a friend pick up my oldest from preschool when my friend was already picking up her own daughter and had to drive by my house on her way home anyway). If the service was going to put anyone out in any way I wasn't okay with it. Well ladies and gentleman, the ghost of service present has come to visit and my heart has been changed. 

This past month Dr. Barton has been on a rotation three hours away with only one day off a week. This means he hasn't been home at all since it's just too far to drive here and back all in one day. I didn't think this would be all that much harder than the norm since he isn't around much anyway, but boy was I wrong. 

We were lucky to spend two whole weeks with him at his location since it also happens to be his home town. Grandma and Grandpa's house was a wonderful refuge for all of us, but eventually the littles and I had to head back to our reality of preschool, dance classes, church callings, and a first ever dance recital. It was rough. The littles were mad at me for taking them away from Dr Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa, so I was getting extra attitude from both of them. I came home to find mice had made their way into our garage and eaten my infant car seat that had been stored in there, and we had a good amount of snow dump on us (and this is after living in a warm, snow-less place for the last four years.... and driving a new van that I'm still getting used to.... and living on a hill.... and being in a place that apparently doesn't clear ANY streets when it snows. Can you spell disaster?) 

We returned at the busiest time possible. I had a lot on my plate without all the added chaos and not even twenty four hours after returning home I felt beaten down. That's when the love and tender mercies started pouring in. I found a care package filled with chocolates, nail polish, homemade sugar scrub, and a new book that a friend from medical school had sent to me (since she knew Dr. Barton was going to be gone for an extended time) as I was sitting in the Lowe's parking lot, in between dance classes and the ward Christmas party, waiting for my baby to wake up so I could buy mouse traps. This lead to a flood of tears, in the Lowe's parking lot. Feeling overwhelmed with all the activities on our calendar, cranky children, and the thought of dealing with mice, I could not have opened that act of love at a better time. 

At the ward Christmas party a sister in the ward saw me walk in late and alone with my two girls, made room for us at her table, and then proceeded to help me grab dinner for my girls so that I didn't have to juggle two toddlers and three plates by myself. Santa took the extra time to make my littles comfortable and happy so that we could snap a good picture to send to Dr. Dad. And another ward member rushed to my car to stay with my baby when they saw that after taking both littles out in the freezing cold and strapping them both in their car seats that my oldest suddenly had to go potty and pronto. 

When my girls fell asleep at 6:30 PM and didn't wake up shorty after like I expected them to, I asked a neighbor if she could head over to my house so that I could run to the store to buy ingredients for the Relief Society Christmas breakfast that was the early the next morning. Not only was she willing to do that, but she actually went shopping for me since she had to go to the store anyway.

A friend in the ward had her husband pick-up and drive my van down a slick, steep, windy hill when I didn't trust my snow-driving skills after the first real snowfall of the season. He then went a step further by walking over to our house (a good two blocks in 1* weather) to help me shovel our drive-way. 

Some friends from residency picked me up and took me as their third wheel to the residency Christmas party so that I didn't have to feel awkward going alone. They then stuck around after bringing me home to help me put my kiddos in bed and just talk for a while so that I wouldn't get lonely. 

After it continued to dump snow on us that night, I woke up Sunday morning to find all two feet of snow that had fallen overnight shoveled off my driveway by some Good Samaritan. And when I was under the weather and feeling unable to tackle church, people stepped in without hesitation to fill my callings. 

My visiting teacher insisted on watching my girls for me so that I could have some time to myself to do whatever I wanted. She was also willing to watch them a second day that same week so that I could take some final exams for school. 

There have been numerous other "small" acts that people have done for me in just the short amount of time we have been home and complelty fatherless, too many to add to this already long post. There is no way that I could have done all this without those helping hands and loving hearts. 

I have come to realize that being strong and independent doesn't mean doing it completely by yourself all the time. It means knowing when you do need the extra help, accepting it, and even asking for it, without hesitation. It does not make you weak, it makes you human. People aren't bestowing pity, they are sharing love. Let those helping hands into your home and into your heart. It will make your life so much better. 

- Clara B. 

You Are Not Alone!

In medical school, residency, and some practices we don't have the luxury of our husbands holding a nine to five job. We can't count on Saturday being a family-fun-day. We can't promise our children that Daddy will be there Christmas morning to open presents, or to watch them blow out their birthday candles, or cheer them on at their first dance recital. We can't plan on everyone sitting at the dinner table talking about what happened that day. We can't count on having some pillow talk and cuddle time. Our husbands are tied down to books (studying for the umpteenth hour), at the beck and call of a superior, saving lives. It can be lonely, but I'm here to tell you that

I know what it's like to spend only an hour  all day with your husband as he shovels dinner into his mouth before leaving to study... again. I know what it's like to lay on your couch longing to have someone to cuddle up to while watching a movie. I know what it's like to sit in a silent apartment flipping through channels until he walks through that door, utterly exhausted, at 2 A.M. I know the jealousy of staying at home alone while your friends post pictures of date nights on Facebook and Instragram. I know what it's like to be newly married, in a new state, with no car, no internet, no television, and no friends. I know how abandoned and isolated you can feel.

I know how hard it is waking up with a new born baby every single night by yourself because you know that your husband has to get up for rounds at 4 AM. I know how hard it is to eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner with little people who can't carry a conversation and an empty seat at the head of the table. I know how hard it is to carry out bath time, teeth brushing, book reading, song singing, and tucking in without a second pair of helping hands for the fourteenth night in a row. I know how hard it is to tell your child yet again that, "maybe you'll be able to see Daddy tomorrow," since he goes to work before they wake and comes home long after they have gone to bed. I know how hard it is to hear a small voice tell you that Daddy isn't coming home tonight because he has to work at the hospital.

I know how discouraging it is when you are home with a sick family and your husband is nowhere to be seen because he is helping other sick families. I know how discouraging it is to receive a text informing you that it'll be "just two more hours"... three hours after he was supposed to be home. I know how discouraging it is trying to keep little ones quite as they play while Daddy tries to sleep since he worked all night. I know how discouraging it is not being able to make plans for the holidays since you don't have any idea what your husbands schedule will be until the beginning of the month. I know how discouraging it is when your husband finally comes home and all he wants to do (and needs to do) is rest and stay in - while you cry inside because you've been stuck at home with the kids all week and had your heart set on that family outing that keeps getting put off.

I know what it's like to have a newborn one week old baby violently shooting spit-up out their nose as your sixteen month old poops on the floor and smears it in the carpet as they walk around while your husband is using his few hours of social interaction at the ward barbecue. I know what it's like calling your husband in tears asking him if he can come home yet. I know what it's like finding out that he can't come help you because nobody remembered to bring plates, cups, or enough hamburger buns and he has been asked to fix their problem before he can help you with yours. I know what it's like bathing your toddler, cleaning your carpet, and bleaching your bath tub while your newborn continues to scream and spit-up no matter what you do to console them.

I know how frustrating it is to watch multiple YouTube videos because your husband hasn't been able to mow the lawn in a while and you want to do it for him but have no idea how to actually start a lawn mower. I know how frustrating it is when even after all the "how tos" you still can't figure it out and have to ask a neighbor. I know how frustrating it is when your doorknob to the garage breaks and nothing you do will unlock it. I know how frustrating it is having masking tape over the doorknob hole for a few days while your husband doesn't have the time to fix the problem. I know how frustrating it is pulling the doorknob apart trying to figure out yourself (since it's been days and your husband still hasn't had the time) what on earth is wrong, trying to piece it back together once all the little pieces are taken out, and only then discovering that a piece is actually snapped off. I know how frustrating it is walking into the hardware store knowing what you're looking for (even if you don't have the exact name for it) and having people look at you funny because you're a woman, with two littles and no man in sight, in a hardware store. I know how frustrating it is to try to figure out all these new pieces and get your door working again.

I know what it's like to feel like a single mom - to have the nurturing, educating, cooking, cleaning, lawn mowing, religious teaching, bandaging, butt wiping, tear stopping, disciplining, grocery shopping, bill paying, house fixing, and emergency handling left to you alone. I know what it's like to wrestle children into clothing, assemble a diaper bag, wrangle everyone into the car, and lug across the church parking lot with bag, baby, and toddler in tow. I know what it's like to sit in the pews trying to keep children quite as you are outnumbered and feeling completely helpless. I know what it's like to have eyes starring, some in annoyance and some in pity, as you drag diaper bag, baby, and toddler out of the chapel because baby is crying and toddler has to go potty for the second time in an hour. I know what it's like to finally have your husband home from school or work only to find out that they have to go home teaching, or to a priesthood meeting, or help yet another family move. I know what it's like to be angry that everyone else seems to get your husband's time while you are silently drowning. I know what it's like to feel guilty for being so selfish when all your husband wants to do is serve. I know what it's like to feel like everyone expects perfection from you because, after all, you are the doctors wife.

I also know that you have probably come to know these things yourself, or if you haven't yet, you soon will. My dear friend, YOU ARE NOT ALONE! I know how hard, frustrating, and taxing all this can be and my heart goes out to you. But most importantly your Savior knows how hard this is for you. He understands your frustration. He feels your burdens. He gets it, and He is there for you. He is sending you tender mercies daily; while they may not be obvious, I promise you that they are there. Look for them. He will not leave you alone. 

We know that our husbands are working ridiculously hard and that they love us very much, but this doesn't make our trials any less difficult or painful. Their broken back doesn't make our broken arm hurt any less. This is tough, and it's okay to cry sometimes.

Hang in there!
- Clara B.