One Woman’s Low Thyroid Nightmare

It used to be a few years back that I personally knew almost every member of my mailing list. The members of this list were my neighbors or fellow moms from my daughter’s nursery school or someone who had attended a small class I’d given. But while I have been so thrilled to see my mailing list grow exponentially over the years, the downside of that growth is that that same list has expanded into nothing more than a random collection of hundreds of emails and click statistics.

That’s why one of my absolute favorite things in the whole world is getting letters from YOU, the moms who visit this blog and my website, so that I can connect with new people outside of my own little boring 4-square blocks in central Jerusalem life. And last week I got an extra special treat! Even better than an email, a mom living in a small Jewish community in the US asked if she could actually speak with me on the phone. WOW! I’m not sure that has ever happened before in all of the history of JewishMOM.com.

The woman who called me is a teacher in a Jewish school and the mother of five children. She wanted to speak with me about my books, but we ended up mostly talking about the very difficult period she faced when she first became a mother 15 years ago.

This mother grew up in an Orthodox home, so when she got married in her early twenties and soon after gave birth to two children over the course of a year and a half, it wasn’t much of a surprise to her or to anyone else for that matter.

What did surprise her was how she felt.

She had so looked forward to becoming a mother, it was the fulfillment of a life-long expectation and dream. But now as the mother of two adorable, healthy babies, she felt like she had been run over by a steamroller. She was exhausted, and even worse, she was seriously depressed. She was miserable in her home, miserable with her children, miserable in her life.

Thank G-d, today, this mom is in a very different place. She feels transformed, energetic, occasionally struggling but generally thriving. What saved her? She credits her salvation, her resurrection to three smart people and three smart pieces of advice:
1. A very insightful (not to mention world-renowned) rabbi in her community who advised her to take a long break (even years) before having her third child, until he felt she could feel genuinely excited about having another child.
2. Another very wise rabbi who told her that she should exercise 5 days a week.
3. A very smart doctor who diagnosed her with sluggish thyroid or hypothyroidism, and started her on a highly-effective hormonal treatment that she continues to this day.

After that phone call, I knew that I had to tell all of you about this mom’s story. And, in particular, I wanted to help raise awareness about the plague of low thyroid.

Did you know that 59 million Americans (the vast majority of whom are women) suffer from hypothyroidism– a leading cause of fatigue and depression? If you are feeling depressed or post-steamroller, I highly recommend that you speak with your doctor about hypothyroidism.

Watch this informative interview with a doctor specializing in hypothyroidism in women to learn more about symptoms, diagnosis, and treatment.

Mommy Peptalk: Surviving the Mommy Minefield

A simple tool to help every mom smile through the most difficult of days.

The JewishMOM.com Book of the Year!

Click to order: http://www.artscroll.com/Books/mtmh.html

I am so excited to be posting the first of a 8-week series of excerpts from the JewishMOM.com book of the year Mothers to Mothers: Women Across the Globe Share the Joys and Challenges of Jewish Motherhood by Julie Hauser (Artscroll). I LOVE THIS BOOK, a collection of honest and colorful interviews with 30 Orthodox mothers sprinkled with insightful and inspiring mothering advice from respected educators and rebbetzins (if you’ve read my books, this will sound familiar. What a treat, an unprecedented freebie to read a book I love as much as one of my own, without having to write it myself!)

2 Excerpts from Mothers to Mothers

Gitty: A writer and birthing assistant. Originally from Denver, living in Israel.

The yetzer hara [evil inclination] loves to get moms depressed about their bad behavior and make us feel like we can’t or never will be able to improve. But this is a patent sheker [falsehood]. If we want to change, we can and we will. I have changed so much over the years; it’s an exhilarating experience to be liberated from one’s bad behavior.

Motherhood is an attitude. If you knew without a doubt that this was your last day on earth, how would you interact with your children? What would you say, how would you act? How do you want them to remember you? What important messages do you want them to internalize that are uniquely yours to transmit? It’s important to know your answers to these questions and to live them every day!…

I am amazed to hear how I speak to my children now, compared to how I used to speak to them. How I handle situations now, compared to before. I am not perfect, but I am quicker to forgive myself, and quicker to change modes from a negative to a positive. Sometimes the kids don’t even realize what happened. Wasn’t Ima just uptight? How come she’s smiling now? Because I caught myself on the wrong track and changed lanes in “mid-yell.”

I think motherhood is one of the most demanding challenges ever placed before a person. It has challenged my middos [character] in every way. I know that every day I will face new growth and that is quite exciting, though also daunting. That is why I take one day at a time — actually, one moment at a time. It is more manageable for me, and more exciting. You get to appreciate the miracles more when you move more slowly through life.

A Rebbetzin Speaks about Feeling That You’ve “Blown It”

Now, what do you do if you look at the clock and it’s only 10 o’clock in the morning and your throat’s already sore from screaming so much, and your day has hardly started? What you do at that point, is, you say, “Thank G-d, I noticed it now, and from here on in, I’m going to change my tone.”

I discovered a very interesting truth about life. Just because you start a sentence at the top of your lungs does not mean you have to finish it at the top of your lungs! Sometimes we feel, “Well, I’m already in this mode, I’m already communicating like this, I sort of owe it to my ego to continue!” You don’t have to! Stop mid-sentence!

And what if it’s 3 or 4 or 5 or 6 o’clock in the afternoon, and you feel like you blew the whole day? There’s no such thing as having blown anything! There is no such thing, there is no such concept as having blown something. You did not blow anything.

As long as you are still alive, you can rectify the day. Say, “Hakadosh Baruch Hu, dear G-d, I lost myself, I’m really sorry, I have 20 minutes left of my day; please let me live the last few minutes of this day the way I would have liked to.” Don’t let the yetzer hara [evil inclination] convince you ever, at any point, that you blew anything. There is no such concept, but the yetzer hara loves that concept. Because it’s so wonderfully depressing, it’s so magnificently and totally strong in its ability to completely cripple us in our ability to move ahead.

Don’t let him work that line on you. You didn’t blow anything! You made a mistake. So the day was very stressful. You’re a person, and you made a mistake. You’ll do better from here on in.

Transcribed from an audiotape on preparing for Rosh Hashanah, JEP of Rockland Lecture Series; published with permission from the speaker (who prefers not to be named).

Reproduced with permission from Mothers to Mothers, by Julie Hauser; copyright ArtScroll/Mesorah Publications.

Jewish Women in the Year 2100

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I don’t know who wrote this, but it was so beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes. I knew I had to share. (Thanks to Leah of Jerusalem for sending it my way)

Back in the mid nineties a Jewish advertising executive in New York came up with an idea. What if the New York Times – considered the world’s most prestigious newspaper – listed the weekly Shabbat candle lighting time each week? Sure, someone would have to pay for the space. But imagine the Jewish awareness and pride that might result from such a prominent mention of the Jewish Shabbat each week.

The advertising executive got in touch with a Jewish philanthropist and sold him on the idea. It cost almost two thousand dollars a week. But he did it.

And for the next five years, each Friday, Jews around the world would see ‘Jewish Women: Shabbat candle lighting time this Friday is …’.

Eventually the philanthropist had to cut back on a number of his projects. And in June 1999, the little Shabbat notice stopped appearing in the Friday Times. and from that week on it never appeared again.

Except once.

On January 1, 2000, the NY Times ran a Millennium edition. It was a special issue that featured three front pages. One had the news from January 1, 1900. The second was the actual news of the day, January 1, 2000. And then they had a third front page, projecting future events of January 1, 2100.

This fictional page included things like a welcome to the fifty-first state: Cuba, as well as a discussion as to whether robots should be allowed to vote. And so on.

And in addition to the fascinating articles, there was one more thing. Down on the bottom of the Year 2100 front page was the candle lighting time in New York for January 1, 2100. Nobody paid for it. It was just put in by the Times.

When the production manager of the New York Times – an Irish Catholic – was asked about it, his answer was right on the mark. And it speaks to the eternity of our people. And to the power of the Jewish tradition and its women.

The production manager explained: “We don’t know what will happen in the year 2100. It is impossible to predict the future. But of one thing you can be certain, that in the year 2100 Jewish women will be lighting Shabbos candles.

The Rebbe on the Mighty Jewish Woman

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In honor of the yahrtzeit this week of Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka, the wife of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, here is a very inspiring video of the Rebbe speaking about the unique contribution of Jewish women and mothers. Enjoy!

The Japanese Water Crystal Mystery

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This video is pretty wild stuff. A Japanese scientist named Masaru Emoto froze water after saying beautiful words like “gratitude” and “love” and the resulting ice crystals are beautiful. Then he froze water after saying ugly phrases like “You make me sick, I’ll kill you” and “Hitler” and the ice crystals turned out all messed up and ugly.

Emoto and his revolutionary findings are controversial. Some people find this water crystal research life-altering, and some people think it is a Mt. Fuji high load of wasabi.

But the truth is it really doesn’t matter if the findings are true or not, since we Jews already now that its implications are 100% right on. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but oh boy can words eternally hurt me…or heal me. G-d’s house was destroyed because we misused words, and the entire world itself was created with them.

Seeing these crystals reminded me of this, and of the tremendous responsibility I have as a mom to chose that my mouth will be a tool of blessing rather than a weapon. Even when I’m tired and/or hungry. Even when I’m grouchy and that kid has been pushing all my buttons. Even when I’m stressed out and nothing whatsoever is going my way.

My goal: To feel the sting of regret BEFORE I lose control of my tongue, rather than when it’s already too late.

Check out this cool video about Emoto’s crystal experiment (the best part is the photos of the water crystals about a minute and a half after it starts)

Mommy Peptalk: Where’s My Pat on the Back?

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How we moms can stay happy and motivated despite a dire lack of external recognition. (If you like this peptalk, you will love The Invisible Woman)

What G-d Wants to Tell You

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When I heard this unforgettable song today for the first time in almost two decades, I think I finally understood what this song is all about.

This song is G-d speaking to every single Jewish mom. To you in Melbourne and to you in Teaneck and to you in London and to me and all the Jewish moms here in the Holy Land.

Jewish mom, this is why G-d loves you.

Get your tissues ready.

How I Really Feel about Birth Control

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Last week I received a really disturbing email. A woman who was the victim of childhood abuse at the hands of an overwhelmed mother of many, many children wrote, “I WISH and WISHED as I was growing up, that someone would have told my mother to stop having more. She simply couldn’t handle it.”

I’ve been thinking about that letter the whole week, and it got me thinking about birth control, and how I truly feel about it.

On the one hand, I realized, I firmly believe that more Jewish moms should be taking birth control. On the other hand, I firmly believe that fewer Jewish moms should be taking birth control.

What?!

Let me explain.

This past month my teacher Rabbanit Yemima Mizrachi taught us that if a mom feels that getting pregnant at this point in her life would be a curse rather than a blessing, then she should go to a rabbi and go on birth control. G-d, she explained, doesn’t need any more martyr moms or long-suffering moms or G-d forbid, spinning out of control and abusive Jewish moms in the world. He’s got enough on His hands as it is already.

But a few months back, Rabbanit Yemima said something very different. She was responding to a feminist Orthodox conference in which birth control use and smaller families were presented as an ideal.

Rabbanit Yemima was livid. Speaking with emotion, she said:
“I’m thinking about all the women who returned home from this conference and then looked at the 2.8 mistakes that they had brought into the world, and thought, “Oh no! And just think I could have saved myself all of this mess!…I’m not asking for the Rebbetzins who spoke at this conference to encourage women to have more children, but I am asking for some more encouragement of mothers who have children. That is the main thing women need in this generation.”

And I think that these two very different statements sum up my opinion on the matter perfectly (isn’t Rabbanit Yemima the absolute greatest?).

G-d wants us to be thriving, happy, pumped moms. If you are already holding onto the edge of the cliff by your fingernails emotionally or physically (and I think that it is natural and normal that most moms hit that point at one time or another) then find yourself a heter and don’t have another child right now.

On the other hand, I believe just as strongly that if no overwhelmed mothers got pregnant, then no Jewish moms would be having more than 2.2 children.

All of us know amazing moms of large families, and the way they became the incredible, role-model moms they are was by pushing themselves beyond their comfort zones. Those incredible moms were once also overwhelmed (just like you), and they felt like they weren’t so great at this whole mothering thing (just like you), because that is how mothers of young children almost invariably feel.

But they had another child anyway because they believed in the value of bringing more Jewish children into the world, and the long-term benefits and the achievement of personal and mothering potential that can come with creating a larger-than-average family.

In summary, I don’t know if overall Orthodox moms need to be taking more birth control or less birth control, but we DEFINITELY need more self awareness to understand whether having another child right now would be the great leap of faith that every mom takes when she brings a new baby into the world, or the leap of the lemming…

Bat Mitzvah Memories

My Israeli tutor liked listening to the Grateful Dead while we studied on the huge Indian pillows, since it put her in a “mood for prayer, you know?” As she smoked and drank cup after cup of Turkish coffee (no sugar please) I read the Shma and Ashrei over and over, week after week after week.

And then there were more private lessons with Bonnie, the cantor’s wife. I still remember the way she inserted two fingers between her violet-lipsticked lips, one piled on top of the other, to show me just how wide my mouth must be so that my voice would project to the very last row of the shul.

And then there was the meeting with our synagogue’s rabbi. How intimidating- meeting with a real-life rabbi, face to face like that. But in his living room, he seemed just like a regular person. Friendly, jolly even.

And then my mother took me to the fancy store on Falls Rd. with the wreath on the door. So different from Sears, where we went each year at the end of August to buy corduroys and turtlenecks for the new school year. I didn’t really like anything at the store, but my mother and I compromised on a yellow and lavender pastel plaid skirt. The truth was that I did like the feel of the satin lining against my legs, even if it did dig into my waist so it was hard to breathe.

My friend Lisa had told me something so wonderful a few months before. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. At her bat mitzvah that past summer, right when she was standing in front of our synagogue next to the rabbi, she had looked up at the windows by the ceiling, and at that exact moment a ray of sunshine had broken through the clouds and lit up her face.

She knew, she told me with wide eyes, that G-d Himself was shining upon her at that moment because that morning was her bat mitzvah.

After a year of Hebrew lessons and meetings with the caterer and the lady with the plush white carpeting to choose out invitations, my grandmother and cousins and aunts and uncles and a whole motorcade of long-lost relatives descended down the East Coast to our Baltimore synagogue.

I read from the Torah while my mother wept into her handkerchief in the third row. I gave a speech about how my haftorah had taught me that I should be nicer to Republicans. The rabbi liked it so much that he gave me a big bear hug. And then I got to sit on the giant velvet armchair next to the cantor and shul president by the Torah ark. My docksiders were a whole foot off the ground.

Afterwards, my grandmother pulled me close in a tight Chanel-scented hug and left lipstick and a few unwiped tears on my cheek. My parents shook hands with guests and received many shoulder slaps and mazal tovs. Then we drove home where my friends and I played Trivial Pursuit in my room, and my friend Christina gave me the nicest present of all- a twisted beaded necklace and a cable-knit sweater like all the cool girls in our class were wearing. I liked it even better than the Prince album Nina gave me.

When it was all over, and everyone left for home, I felt relieved to have all the lessons and speech writing and mandatory Saturday mornings in shul behind me. But I also felt a bit…what was the word? All of this work and preparation for 20 minutes of Bat Mitzvah? Or maybe seven hours if you included all the festivities? I felt sort of…well, you know, let down?

And then I realized something.

With all of the activity and pressure and eyes upon me, I had totally forgotten to look up at the window by the ceiling to see if a ray of sunshine had broken through the clouds.

For my whole life, I realized, I would never ever know if G-d had blessed me or not.

——————————————————————-
This week was an exciting and emotional one for me and my family. My oldest daughter Hadas became a bat mitzvah this past Shabbat and on Monday evening we celebrated this event with our family and friends and community.

Hadas is living a very different life than I did at her age. I attended a Christian prep school; Hadas attends a Jewish day school. I grew up with little Jewish observance; Hadas is growing up as an Orthodox Jew.

This means that while my bat mitzvah felt like the end of the road, Hadas’ bat mitzvah feels like a first step, a joyful reaffirmation of her commitment to the rich religious life she imbibed with her mother’s milk and in the air of her childhood home.

But my bat mitzvah and my daughter’s did also have much in common. The intense preparations, the months of study, the excitement and bellies full of butterflies for mother and daughter alike.

And most importantly, like my own mom at my own bat mitzvah 25 years ago, at Hadas’ bat mitzvah my also eyes ran over with tears on account of gratitude so intense that it just had to get out of me somehow. It was the tears of uncomprehending thankfulness of a person who receives an undeserved gift, a 100 million dollar check left anonymously in her mailbox.

And as I watched my gold-hearted grown-up girl, I finally felt that intense ray of sunshine from above, the warmth of G-d’s undeniable blessing.