Scars & Stretch Marks

Most of us have scars all over our bodies, and we can remember how we got them. There's a teeny scar on my left hand from a bunsen burner in 11th grade chemistry. Scott has a gnarly cluster of scars on his foot and leg from when he fell on a jetty at the beach.

I have a large scar across my middle from when surgeons cut me open to get Hosanna.

There's an article circulating social media called The Truth About C-Section Mamas. I've read it over and over whenever I need a reminder that I wasn't a failure. When I didn't labor for almost a week after baby's due date, I felt like my body was broken– like it didn't know how to do what it was built to do. And at the hospital when my body stopped laboring and I was wheeled into the OR, I felt like my body had failed again.

"Becoming a mother leaves all of us with scars. Some of them are emotional, some of them are physical. C-section mamas often have both. And yet their scars are powerful reminders of the strength and bravery they possessed when bringing their children into the world. These scars were the door their children passed through as they left one world for the next.....These scars are beautiful and something worth celebrating.  Instead of covering our c-section mamas with shame, we need to encourage them to show their scars of strength and bravery to the world."

Now I'm grateful for the marks on my body that remind me of the day Hosanna changed our world. Zanna has left many more "scars" and stretch marks on my life than just those from my pregnancy.

A year ago I wrote a post for Mother's Day musing about what my daughter would be like. I had no idea just how much she would turn our world completely upside down. Zanna introduced us to the word "extreme:" Extreme joy, extreme exhaustion, extreme hunger, extreme humor, extreme spit up, extreme poopy diapers. My past life (which had its share of adventures) genuinely pales in comparison to the emotions Scott and I feel on a daily basis with our little tornado.

There have been many experiences in my life that have given me scars and stretch marks. My youth, my LDS mission, marriage, and now motherhood, and I'm grateful for each unique trial. The truth is, I will never be the same again. Sometimes we experience the biggest changes during times when we least feel the need to change. That's how God works. My life's "stretch marks" are indicators that I truly have grown and become a better version of me.

Love Notes

Valentine's Day comes at such a good time. I apologize to those born in January, but January in Utah -for a California girl- is the WORST month of the year. All the magic of white Christmas and holiday lights and cozy evenings totally wears off. It's just cold, cold, cold, the snow is dirty brown, and spring is too far away to start counting down. Especially when some old groundhog dictates how much more of this sub-freezing weather we have to endure. #Notmygroundhog

So it's refreshing to go grocery shopping and be surrounded by pink, hearts, love, chocolate, and happiness.

"Wait, Rycee, weren't you the POSTER child of anti-Valentine's in the February 2012 BYU Newspaper?" 

Hear me out.

Yes, I was. And you can read it here.

And I still believe Valentine's Day is a hallmark holiday and can create a lot of undue pressure on people to spend money on each other. But between February 2012 and February 2017 I learned a lot about love. Love is hardly the romantic jitters you have for your finance TA or the cute girl in your neighborhood you've been on three dates with.

Serving an LDS mission opened my capacity to love more than I previously had been able to in 21 years. I loved -so dearly- the pastor at the door yelling at me on his doorstep, telling me I was wrong and foolish and going to hell. I wept at his hatred for me, knowing he would never believe in families being together after this life and forever. I loved the little nine year-old girl who learned the song, "I Am a Child of God," and wanted us to sing it with her every time we visited, even though she couldn't be baptized yet. I loved the young women with whom I lived, shared meals, drove, and testified day after day. I loved personalities I never even considered befriending previously.

Then Scott and I grew from friendship to a love that my younger heart had only dreamed of. If I had known then that someone like Scott would come into my life and make me happier than happy, I would have been more patient. Our first two years of marriage were a dream. We went through so many trials together and truly developed a deep and abiding charity and appreciation for each other.

Scott is a different kind of romantic than I. More likely to express his love in chores and service, Scott rarely leaves love notes or posts cutesy things on Facebook declaring his adoration for me. And I don't expect him to. In fact, at my request, he has never brought home flowers. (Dead flowers depress me, even if they smell and look beautiful. Because they are dead.) So when I do find something like this, I know he truly means it:

Love for a spouse is not artificial. Your spouse becomes your family, and you get to know each other's idiosyncrasies and flaws and cheer each other on in life. Scott treats me with kindness and respect. I genuinely have become a better human by interacting with Scott every day the last 2.5 years. 

Then we had Hosanna. No, I did not love her at first. *GASP* I read this article (←click here!) which communicates perfectly how I felt as a new mom. In sum, doing my duty as a mother and taking care of my baby lit a fire, which slowly warmed up the empty space in my heart day by day. Now I adore and LOVE my little girl and she is my ray of sunshine. 

Here's my point about Valentine's Day.

I now believe that we need February and February 14th to celebrate love. In a current climate of hatred and misunderstanding, we need to revere each other. We honor the commandment to Love God at Christmas by remembering His Son. We heed the commandment to love our neighbor on Valentine's Day. This is why I started the #ShoutoutSaturday tradition on Facebook. I want to write love notes to share the untold story of the heroes and angels in my life. I hope to fill the news feed with more good and less arguing. 

So THANK YOU, world, for adopting this Hallmark holiday and giving us a chance to connect. A chance to write love notes. A chance to LOVE.

"Love is the Remedy for ailing families, ill communities, and sick nations. Love is a smile, a wave, a kind comment, and a compliment. Love is sacrifice, service, and selflessness."

(Message from Thomas S. Monson for February 2017)