I got to know a married couple that helped me get to Michigan. They rented a van and drove me from Georgia to Michigan. When we got to my parents house I saw a large banner on the window welcoming me home. After the couple left, I sat down on the couch and wept like a baby in my mothers arms. She wept as well.
I didn't have any of my stuff with me, because I had no way of getting it up to Michigan. I came to Michigan with only a small box of belongings. My parents had prepared a room for me and I settled in. I had mixed emotions about being back home. My heart was back in Georgia, but my body was is Michigan.
My dad believed that the best thing I could do to get myself together was to start attending the Mormon church again. He thought that I should have kept going to church while married to Convert. He believed that by attending church and burying my head in the 'Book of Mormon' that I would get back to my old self. I complied, and went to church with my parents. It felt strange and I was uneasy sitting in the church pew. I felt that something wasn't right by being there. However, I kept attending even though I didn't feel that this was the answer that I was looking for. While in church, I'd listen to the lessons that were presented and to the testimonies that were said, but couldn't seem to get anything out of it.
My parents heavily encouraged me to get a job, and they provided me with a loaner car. I found a job at a nursing home, and I worked as an aide while I waited for my nursing license to be transferred from GA to MI. Working there seemed strange too, because I felt as though I should be with my kids back in GA, however, I had to pay my parents for room and board. After I received my license, nursing didn't seem to help me feel any better either.
My dad said that I should get a loan for a car and rent a house, and prepare to get my kids back. Renting a house, paying for a car, working, and going to church was necessary, but those things, couldn't, more importantly, help me get my mind, spirit, and body together.
Everything seemed wrong and nothing seemed logical. I felt confused, and I had no guidance to help me make decisions for myself, or for my kids. My spirit was empty. Going to church and reading the Book of Mormon didn't give the spiritual food I needed, or something solid that I could believe in. Last of all, my body was suffering because I smoked way too much. I was over weight, and I was on medication that was supposed to help keep me from crying about the things that had happened.
I was hungry for something that made sense. I longed for the truth. I needed the right guidance. I needed the right words and knowledge that would help me think constructively about everything. I needed something to help me mature and grow and get me out of the nonthinking Mormon mentality. I couldn't go back into the same lifestyle I started with. Mormonism didn't teach me anything, but how to do and obey. (The closest thing I can think of that resembles the Mormon way of life is Communism. Neither system of beliefs allows for individual identity as well as personal maturity.)
Mind, Spirit, Body
Terrible Times
It was early fall of the same year, and the children had started back to school. I had a couple of hours to myself, before I had to go to my lunch-time cleaning account (where I had to go and clean Converts two large company contract bathrooms). I got a call from Convert that morning. He was yelling at me on the phone. He was using profane language to explain to me that there was a problem at the bank. I started crying while I was talking with him, because I couldn't understand how there could have been a problem with what he was talking about. He stated that there was a large sum of money missing from the business account, and accusingly, wanted to know why I had taken it out. He also wanted to know what I had done with the money! I couldn't hardly believe that he was accusing me of taking money out of the business. Did he think that I was that stupid? The more he talked, the more upset I got. He hung up and I wept, and wept....
I had to talk to someone. I needed some guidance. I called the doctor's office and explained what had just happened. The doctor wasn't in the office and the secretary and nurse couldn't help me at all. I hung up the phone and wept more. I had only been getting one hour of sleep a night and was totally exhausted. I had no more energy. I couldn't take what Convert was doing to me anymore. I needed sleep and because I was over tired, took a few of his sleeping pills. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to go to sleep. I gulped them down with some water and went into my bedroom. I got down on my knees and begged, "God to PLEASE help me. Take away the hurt, take away the pain, but most of all, I need you, God, to change the current situation I am in". I continued weeping for a long time.....
The next thing I remembered was that I was lying in a bed in a strange place. It seemed sterile and impersonal. I remember a woman standing by me, rubbing my shoulder. She had a friendly smile and asked how I was doing. I said that I was hurting inside. She silently smiled back. I then realized that I had lost the time between weeping in my bedroom and waking up in a hospital bed. However, I vividly remembered my kids being with me before the ambulance came to pick me up. I could hear their voices and feel their touch, and wanted to yell out to them, but I couldn't.
The next couple of weeks were the hardest. I had to be away from my children and get myself together. While I was there, in the hospital, Convert gave me divorce papers. Mentally, I was not concerned about what he was saying, but instead was thinking back to when he was in the hospital, and I was there for him. The only reason he visited me in the hospital, was to give me another petition for divorce.
The doctor came and saw me several times and concluded that I needed to get totally away from Convert. He said that my major depression was ruling me. The doctor said I needed to attend therapy secessions to teach me how to gain skills for mental survival. He said I needed to know how to stand up for myself. He also said that I needed to be able to have mental strength, not only for my self, but for my kids.
After the two week stay in the hospital, I went home. It felt different being there. No one was home at that time, so I sat at the kitchen table and meditated. About ten minutes went by, then Convert came home. He smiled and said, hi. He sat down and told me that I was never to leave the house again. He said that I was not to disobey him again. He stated that if I did leave the house, he would make sure that I would wind up living in the gutter. He said that I left the house he would call the cops and have me picked up, and locked up. I told him that I needed to attend my therapy sessions. He replied that I was not to attend these sessions.
Right then I knew that I really needed some kind of therapy to help me. I needed to get better and not be afraid anymore, but to know how to think correctly. (Due to my Mormon mental conditioning, regarding the priesthood authority and obeying church doctrine, rather than how to think, I didn't have the mental ability to withstand whatever Convert threw at me.) I went to my first counseling session. The only thing I learned from it was that the counselor 'never lost his place'. That evening, I came home and found no one there. Convert had taken the kids and left.
The next few months were extremely hard for me. Convert had kept me from finding the kids for three days. He had a new house for the kids. He must of have rented the place before I got out of the hospital. Convert, somehow, had the court system give him custody of the kids. I lost my kids to Convert all because I needed some sleep.
I had no job, no family, no church, no friends, and no God. I felt like I'd lost everything that meant anything to me. I called my parents and pleaded with them to help me. This was the only thing I knew to do. I went home, back to Michigan. I left the people I loved the most in order to start over. I left my home that I had paid for to the kids, and forced myself to leave Georgia, in order to get myself together.........Convert and I divorced while living states apart......
Crazy Insaine
From this point on, our marriage gradually became more and more confusing. Shortly after I began working for Convert, I realized that my nursing license renewal form was missing. After asking him if he had seen it, he told me that he had torn it up and then showed me the small pieces of paper. He said I didn't need to renew it......
Convert shortly thereafter, decided that we needed to get counseling from a psychiatrist. He said that I needed help. He, perhaps, must have thought that, due to the fact that I had been crying a lot, and that in order to relieve stress, I busied myself with cleaning the house that I therefore, must be crazy..?? This is the only conclusion I could come up with as to why he thought there was something mentally wrong with me. He never told me why he thought I was crazy. He concluded that the only way I could get the mental help I needed, was for both of us to see a shrink. He stated that the only way I was going to get better, was that a doctor put me in a mental institution. Convert also wanted to make sure that we had a form filled out by the doctor that would enable me to get social security benefits for being crazy. In order to make sure that the visit with the psychiatrist would be successful, Convert gave me specific instructions in what to do during the visit with the doctor. He wanted legitimate proof that I was crazy. He told me that when I got in his office I was to pull my pants down, squat on the doctors desk and urinate on the doctors papers. (There was NO way I was going to do that!)
We went to the psychiatrist. On the way there, I was feeling a mixture of emotions. I was asking myself, why was I going to a psychiatrist? I didn't feel as though there was anything wrong with me. Convert was expecting me to do this mentally insane thing in the doctors office! I was apprehensive and afraid that the doctor might believe what ever Convert said. I was hoping that the doctor would see the truth that there was nothing wrong with me. Instead of going for the reasons that Convert stated, I went with the hope that the doctor would see through him and help him and help us get our lives together.
After two secessions, the doctor told me that the only thing that was wrong with me was stress and major depression. He said that he could help me through these tough times. The doctor also said that he can't help Convert. The doctor went on to tell me that Convert was too far gone, and that there was no help for him.
I was happy to know that I wasn't crazy, and that I didn't need to be in a mental institution. Convert couldn't have his form for the social security people filled out in my name......
Converts Rationale
The next few years with Convert were the worst ones in our marriage. I had high hopes of a 'normal' marriage. I couldn't really see what was down the road for me, and the kids, for that matter. I spent a good couple of years, or so, obeying my husband. The relationship with him became extremely confusing and exhausting. His behavior towards me became intolerable. He was gone almost all of the time. He brought pornographic material into the house, and he became obsessed with sex. He brought home several hand guns. He brought his mother down to GA and got her a place across the street from our family. He went to bars and would give me reasons why he couldn't come home at night. He'd give excuses like, "I was too tired to drive, so I slept in the car in a parking lot". I couldn't prove his unfaithfulness, but I had my suspicions.
Convert started his own business, and I quit work to help him out. I worked long, hard hours training employees, cleaning, driving, and getting supplies. I spent most of the time away from home. I didn't want to. I wasn't getting paid to work for him. I worked seven days a week, and approximately ten to twelve hours a day. Every time I wanted to have a day off, Convert would give me an extensive lecture about why I needed to continue working. He'd give me his rationale of how he worked during the day, getting the contracts, and I did the training at night. (I had to work for an hour, or so, at lunch time as well.) Once in awhile, I was able to take one of the kids with me to keep me company while I was working.
By this time, the days became like nights and the nights like days. I would get about an hour of sleep a day . I didn't have much contact with my kids, and by this time, I was smoking over two packs of cigarettes a day and drinking a lot of coffee. These two vices are taboo in the church. I slowed down in my attendance in church for a short time. It wasn't long before I quit all together. I hardly had anymore strength to give. My mind, body, and spirit were suffering, all for the sake of making Convert happy with me.
I was cleaning house one day, and I decided to clean out my top dresser drawer. I found an opened envelope way in the back of the drawer. I pulled it out from under my clothes and looked at the front of the envelope. The letter inside was addressed to me. The return address was from, "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints". Puzzled, I pulled the piece of white paper out of the envelope. I read the letter, and then I read it again. I read it over and over and over. I was numb. I had been excommunicated from the church! How could this be? What did I do to them? I didn't understand. I called my visiting teacher, she wouldn't talk to me. I called my home teacher, he wouldn't talk to me. I called the bishop, and he wouldn't talk to me!
I confronted Convert, and he said that he had excommunicated me from the church, because "I was no longer a worthy member, and I need to be punished". I had lost the very thing that I treasured, my ability to go to heaven and be with God. I thought, "What did I do to make God hate me so?" I also thought, "God, I stuck by my husband and your 'Holy Priesthood', I know I didn't handle the stress too well.... but does that give Convert the authority to kick me out of heaven before I even have a chance to get there?"...........
Some Kind of Stability
I was at a point in my life I was trying to achieve some kind of stability, not only for me, but for the kids. I didn't have anyone to turn to, so I had to make serious decisions on my own. I didn't know anything about lawyers, courts, judges, or divorce. I didn't know the first thing about the judicial system, I didn't grow up with any of that kind of education. I didn't know anyone that was divorced in my family. I was a Mormon woman that believed that I was married for time and all eternity. I did know that the serious instability in the family was in dire need of change. I knew that if I didn't finish school, the children would be in worse shape in the future, as far as having their needs met were concerned.
I looked Convert square in the eye and told him that, "I can't quite school. It doesn't make sense to stop". I also told him that I didn't want a divorce either. All I asked for was a little more time to finish school in order to be able to bring in the money we needed to keep on going. I pleaded with Convert to understand and be patient. Convert said nothing.
It was about two weeks later when I got a letter from the court, petitioning for divorce. I was so heartbroken and confused that I didn't know what to do. I thought to myself, "Why can't he understand that I'm going to school to keep our family from starving?" I didn't know who to go to or where to turn. I know that going to my parents and the church was out of the question. I've been that route, and it didn't work.
We divorced and I finished school. The divorce was strange. I didn't have a lawyer nor did I have any counseling of any kind. I wanted to yell at the judge and tell him that I didn't understand any of the proceedings. I was mentally and physically exhausted. I didn't do anything, but give Convert what he wanted. I knew that it would have been devastating to the family unit if I had quit school. Shortly after the divorce, I graduated with honors, and I was third from the top in my class. I knew that, for me, school was a defocus from my current problems. Maybe that's why I did so well.
Convert was always around and the kids seemed to be fairly adjusted to the situation. (I really don't know how much they remember about the divorce.) I was able to buy a home through a program that was designed for single, working mothers, even though Convert was always around, giving me his advice. The kids got into new schools and I started working nights. Convert stayed with the kids and got them off to school.
Convert was nice again and he became the person I knew many years ago. I hadn't dated anyone else, nor did I want to. Convert and I decided to get our lives together and start attending church again, plus get the kids in a more stable home environment. Life with Convert was more tolerable being divorced than being married.
The bishop of the ward that we were in did extensive counseling with both of us and we started to get back into church life as much as possible. Soon the bishop told us that we should get remarried. We did. We remarried in the bishops office without any ceremony or party. It wasn't necessary. We just wanted to get back to a married life, the way it was long ago.
Insight
At this particular time, I need to stop and reflect back to an earlier time in my youth, concerning my parental teaching. I never questioned the authority that my dad claims to have. I never went against the law of the church or the house. I spent many nights, as a teen, wondering why I couldn't speak my mind, question whatever I was told to do, or give my personal opinion on something. I couldn't refuse to do duties in the church, if I thought it didn't make sense. I was not supposed to question the reasons behind the churches doctrine. I faithfully stood by the teachings of Joseph Smith, and the authority that he gave men, in the name of God. I believed in the authority that my dad claims to have in order for me to get to heaven. This is all about the Priesthood in the Mormon church.
I grew up to obey all that I was told to do. I was severely disciplined, if I didn't. On one occasion, my dad told me to, "bend over and bear your butt, so I can spank it". This was at the age of sixteen, which I thought was very wrong and inappropriate for that age. [He wanted to do this for a totally ridiculous reason.] This time, I refused and was afraid of what he might do. I was fearful of the church authority "my dad", and didn't dare to go against anything he said. My dad didn't go any further on the matter.
I learned to have fearful respect for anyone who held the Mormon priesthood. This includes Convert, in spite of his strange behavior. I did what I did, up to this point in my marriage, because of my belief in the teachings that were instilled in me from birth.
The Statue of the "Mormon Jesus Christ"
This is a Mormon statue like the one that Convert and I had hanging on our wall. I loved this picture. I saw the statue in person in Salt Lake City many times. I always thought that Jesus inspired the person that chiseled this image. I always found comfort when I looked at it. Convert gave this picture to a female friend during the time I was in school... Convert did not tell me he did this until after the fact. [I was crushed]
Ultimatum
Convert and I talked over the possibility of me going to school, so that I could get a higher paying job. I was real happy for an opportunity to go. I always wanted to train to be a nurse. I also wanted to be able to financially take care of my children, just in case Convert quit a job. Well, the thought was put on the back burner for awhile.
Shortly after we all moved to a townhouse, Convert found another job, and I got transfered to a fast food restaurant closer to where we lived. Convert worked days and I worked afternoons. Things settled a bit. The two older children were in elementary school by this time, and the baby stayed home with me during the day.
The subject of me going to school came up again. I found a technical institute that was affordable. The school offered education for practical nursing. I enrolled, and started shortly after I got accepted. I attended school during the day, and in the evenings I worked. The baby came with me and stayed at a daycare center near the school.
The schedule was hard, the classes were easy, and I still longed to be with my children. I could have chosen to stay at home, and not work or go to school, but I needed to gain some kind of stability for my kids. As much as I hated being away from them, I was determined to have the ability to take care of them, in case I needed to.
Convert was still working, but I questioned his faithfulness to me and to our marriage. He remained distant, and he got involved with other people. I never knew what he was doing. He didn't want to be close.
I didn't go to church, due to the fact that I was burning the candle at both ends. I needed to have as much time at home as I possibly could. Between going to school full time and working full time, I needed to relax and enjoy my kids as much as possible.
School was about over, and I could see light at the end of the tunnel. Then Convert came to me one day and told me that I had to quit school. He went on to inform me that if I didn't stop attending school, he would file for divorce. He further told me that by getting a divorce, he would be able to prove to me that I couldn't live without him. I had an ultimatum. Quit school and be in constant worry about my children's survival, or get a divorce and finish school. This is the same man that sold his TV when we were dating so I could go to college.
I Missed
Time moved on and our third child was born. My mother-in-law moved in with us (all the way from Michigan). Fortunately, there were no more situations with the church.
Convert sat me down one day and told me that he had decided to ask his dad for a job. His dad owned a very large business out east. I asked him why he wanted to change, and I also told him that I thought that he was happy working for the church. Convert shrugged off my concern and said he just wanted a change. He called his dad and within hours of that call, his dad gave him a job. Convert got a job in Georgia, but we lived in Utah...
We sold practically everything we owned and made move number thirteen to just north-east of Atlanta, Georgia. (Convert left his mom in Utah.) Converts dad gave us a large sum of money to buy new furniture and rent a large three bedroom apartment. We lived only five miles away from Converts job, but it took him twenty minutes to drive there, due to heavy traffic.
We were treated like royalty. I couldn't believe all of the expensive dinners, clothes, and new everything. Bills were payed and my father-in-law visited often (when he flew down from Ohio). We got new church callings and kept our good standing in the church.
The following year after our move we had a house built, bought a new truck, and the kids were well taken care of because of Converts large salary. I kept going to church and Convert kept working. Soon after we moved into the house, I spent many nights by myself, because Convert made new friends and attended many company gatherings. I kept up my duties as a wife, mother, and church member. Converts church attendance dropped to less than half.
I kept getting the feeling that there was something strange going on. I didn't know what, but there was a huge change in the attitude in Convert. He became distant and he was not his normal self. I felt alone and didn't know what to do. I didn't have friends to talk to, and the church was unresponsive to my needs. I went to the Visiting Teachers, the Relief Society President, and to the Bishop for counseling and none of them wanted to help me understand what I needed to do. Now the regular routine of the house didn't seem to flow. The bills were piling up and I was just making the bare bones payment on everything. The money Convert was making was increasing, but the bills were getting bigger, faster.
We lived in our new home for about a year when Convert quit his job. He stopped working all together and in order to buy groceries, I had to get a job. The only thing I could get was a job working at a fast food restaurant. The job I had could not cover all of the bills, so we were forced to sell the house. We stopped tithing in order to help pay for what we could. We had a garage sale to help pay the debt. Convert filed for bankruptcy a second time.
As for me, I worked long, hard hours. I stopped going to church, so I could make as much money as possible. I started smoking to deal with the stress. I missed my kids... I missed going to church... I missed Convert...
Westward Bound
I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and carried on. Move number nine was quite an adventure. Convert told me that we needed to move to Utah and start a life, over closer to the heart of the church.
We moved to another woman's place in Utah. She was someone we had known for a few years. Convert spent well over two months looking for a job before he got a managers job with Deseret Industries (similar to Goodwill) in Orem, Utah. We found an apartment in Provo, just south of Orem. I was excited! I'm finally back in Utah. I also got to be closer to my extended family, the people I grew up with.
We got moved into our apartment, and settled into church callings and regular temple attendance. I got to be a "stay at home mom" and be the Mormon mother I always dreamed of being.
Time went on and finances became tight which required Convert to get a part-time evening job. We also received food from the bishops' store house. We were able to get it because we paid our tithing, held church duties (callings), attended church regularly, and went to the temple meetings. I had the house schedule running smoothly and I thought that I was doing real well.
One day I got a visit from the Relief Society President and her counselors. They came in and asked how I was and then they addressed the reason for their visit. I was handed a piece of paper that laid out prescribed menus for my children. On this paper it showed me the type of food I was to get from the bishop's store house and what I was to feed my children for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They politely concluded their visit with a prayer that I would adhere to the bishop's counsel. I cordially showed them out.
When Convert got home I shared with him the event of the day and showed him the paper. I also told him that I will no longer get any food from the bishops store house. I said that it was not the bishop or relief society's responsibility to feed my children. I decided to take the 10% that the church was getting and buy food for my children from a grocery store. I refused to take anymore handouts.
Needless to say, I got a visit from the bishop due to the fact that he wasn't getting the churches money, our 10%. After a long visit, the bishop retracted the requirements of the menu and I started paying tithing again. I didn't go back to the bishops store house. I got a part time job to buy food.
The Cross
I will be putting in clippings from "The Cross" that is put out by Concerned Christians from AZ. It's the newsletter I get from them and I have permission to use whole or part of the print. I find this information valuable, not only to me, but for all who seek to know the truth. I'll add these in once in awhile.
Overwhelmed
The eighth move went well. We got settled into a roomy townhouse just South of a very large airport. Convert got his workman's compensation and disability, and we all went on welfare. The church continued to get their 10%, and Convert and I kept our good standing in the church. Convert saw his doctor once a week in order to keep his workman's' comp. He started going to a community college, taking classes in heating, ventilation and air conditioning. I started a part time job to supplement the disability.
I came home from work one evening and the house was a mess and there were strangers sitting in my living room. Convert explained to me that this family, a man, woman and an infant, needed a place to stay for awhile. That place was my home. I didn't have a say in the matter, due to Convert being the Mormon authority in the family. To make things worse, he decided to start working on appliances in my kitchen (he'd pick up old appliances that people had thrown out).
By this time I was overwhelmed. Between the church duties, going to work, taking care of the children, Converts' so called inability to work, his going to school, his doctor's appointments, and these strangers living in my home... I had nothing left. I was exhausted. I needed some advice, some kind of comfort, a shoulder to cry on... something.
I thought back to when I was young. I was taught to go to the spiritual head of the family for guidance in all matters. Well, the spiritual head of our nucleus family was part of the problem.
I remember I went over to my parents home and sat down next to my oldest brother (the returned Mormon missionary). I gave him a short story of my situation, he advised me to go to the patriarch of the family. I got up off the couch and went to the dining room where my dad was sitting. I sat down next to him and explained what I was going through, and that I was stressed out over it all.
My dad looked at me and lovingly told me how he was well aware of the situation. He said he had been praying about what I needed to do in my case. I was attentively listening. He said I was to divorce my husband. He went on to tell me that I was to let him and my mom adopt my children. Last, I was to move back to Utah and forget I even had a marriage and two children. I felt violated.
Mental What?
Time goes by and the children are a bit older and I am getting the knack at motherhood. I can see a family now when there once was none. Our sixth move went well and getting readjusted into another ward wasn't difficult. The missionaries, elders and sisters, were over to our apt. seemingly all of the time.
The children were down for a nap when I got a phone call from the local hospital. The man on the other end informed me that my husband had been brought to the hospital by the local police. I couldn't believe my ears!
"But he's at work", I said in disbelief.
"No", the man stated, "Your husband is on the top floor in the psych ward."
"Could you come as soon as you can for a consultation with the doctor?", the man asked urgently.
The doctor informed me that Convert had been wandering around in the middle of a busy street and very disoriented.
Immediately I called my parents. I gave them a very brief description of the urgent situation and expressed my need of their assistance. They promptly drove one hour to get to where I was.
I got to the hospital and I couldn't get to the top floor fast enough. When I got to the nurses desk the doctor was there and he went into depth explaining the situation. I couldn't believe that my husband was in the psych ward. I had to see him. I followed the doctor to Converts room. I could see him asleep in the far bed in a ward of three beds. I sat down and took hold of his hand. I then said a silent prayer. The doctor continued to explain to me in detail how my husband needed to be in the State Mental Institution. "How does one react or respond to that kind of statement?", I thought to myself.
As it turned out, my husband didn't go to the state hospital. We moved again to a back room, remodeled garage of a female church members' home. Convert filed for disability and workers compensation. Another day, another ward.
For Time and All Eternity
As I think back on my upbringing (childhood), I continue to realize that I was a devout Mormon. I did all, all the time. That same ambition carried over into my new marriage. I took hold of new church callings and I did all I knew to do as a wife and a new mother. The whole experience of being the perfect wife, mother, and church member was challenging.
Convert got his upgrade to an elder in the church and we were sealed "For Time and All Eternity" in the Washington DC, Mormon Temple. Our two young children were sealed with us. I worked hard to get to this stage. It wasn't easy. By the time Convert and I got to this point, Convert had quit his job three times. We moved four times, and during all this, I caught him rolling on the floor with my best friend. (Our first baby was only a month old when Convert decided to quit his government job and seek my best friends company. She was Mormon too. This precipitated the second move.)
I had to stay in the hospital a full month while pregnant with my first child. My cervix couldn't hold babies. Not only did I have problems carrying my child, I had to get over being anorexic. I was only 98lbs when Convert and I married. (Perfect body + perfect lifestyle = Perfect Mormon Woman.) The problems with my cervix necessitated a month long stay in the hospital. Needless to say, I got only one visit from my dear husband during my incarceration. I delivered my boy one week after my release from the hospital. My baby was born eight weeks premature. Our daughter, on the other hand, was full term, thanks to modern medicine.
Here Comes the Bride
The more Convert and I dated, the more I wanted to be with him. I became very attached to him. We dated for five months and then we were married. We didn't have the traditional Mormon temple wedding. Convert wasn't a member long enough to be an elder in the priesthood. (A man has to be an elder in the church to gain entrance into the temple.) We settled for a civil marriage. We didn't have a typical civil wedding with flowers, a dress, a cake, and celebrations.
My parents had just married off my oldest brother and they stated that they couldn't afford another wedding. (Of course, they really didn't want me to get married at all.) My brother was the successful returned missionary that was the pride of the family. He was the one that got the glitter and glamor of a temple marriage. The church was decorated to the hilt and the food never ended. Although, I did get to be a brides maid. Did I mention that the bride was my best friend?
I wanted so much to have a beautiful wedding, but out of desperation to gain freedom I settled for a judge, my parents, and about three of my siblings at the courthouse. I remember buying a wedding dress pattern and putting it in my "hope chest" back in Utah. I still have the pattern, unopened and unused. I look at it once in awhile and just sigh. I was also hoping that I would be able to decorate my own wedding cake. Instead, I was only able to do everyone else's. The wedding took place and then everyone went home. Convert and I went to our honeymoon destination.... The Holiday Inn.
The honeymoon was interesting. Convert detoured us to his friend's house. I sat on the couch in the living room of some strangers home while Convert went into the other room. I waited. My new husband was up to something. I really didn't know what. There were other people laying around the living room while I was there. I didn't know them. The room stunk, it was smoky, and it had alcohol bottles everywhere. I was real uneasy sitting there. It wasn't my kind of environment. Soon my new husband came out of the other room. He would not explain what he had been doing. We left that poor pathetic house and went to our honeymoon suite. (It was just one of the small rooms on the tenth floor.) We had dinner at the inn's restaurant and then retreated to our room.
I was so happy to be married and away with my love. I knew that we were going to be happy as a married couple and have a home, a family, and go to church like all the wonderful families do. I had such high hopes for us. That short visit to Converts friend's house was not an issue. I gave it no more thought...
The next day Convert took me to my new home, or I should say it was his mothers home. It was small, smoky and full of dog and cat hair. Coffee aromas loomed in the air, and the dishes were kept in the fridge, due to the large amount of cockroaches. This kind of atmosphere was totally different than what I was used to. The house I grew up in had no bugs, was clean, smelled good and the animals lived outside. I was a stranger in a strange home and thats where I was supposed to be. In other words I was locked in. I kept my hopes high on the goal of a soon-to-be temple marriage, a home of my own, a family, and respect from the Mormon community. Most of all, I hoped that I would make my parents proud.
