Mayim Rabim

I have been seeing a gentleman and it appears to have real potential. My biggest issue to date is that he isn't frum very long. In fact, the gap in yiddishkeit knowledge between the two of us is pretty vast. I lived and practiced TH for six years. He has ZERO knowledge of TH, much less practice of it.

It was a delicate issue to bring up, but since he hasn't been frum very long, I suspected he didn't really know any pratim of what the halachas are, or even what the basics were - in other words, while I know Alef through Tof, I was pretty sure he only knew Alef. I wanted to make sure he knew Alef Bet and Gimmel before we went forward.

I asked him, "I'm not trying to be forward, but have you learned anything about Taharas Hamishpacha?"

"Well, I know that a man and his wife have to be seperate at certain times of the month, but honestly I was planning on taking the classes that are offered in the community," he replied, referring to "chosson classes".

"I think it would be worthwhile for you to have a conversation with your Rov about the very basics of TH even before you get to the idea of chosson classes. Because TH is a very complicated and difficult mitzvah, and I want to make sure that you feel it's something you can take on," I said. "You can choose to ignore my suggestion, but I think you should have a better idea of what's involved before you just say that you're going to do it."

Now I know the man is a total yirat shamayim, and is going to do whatever the halacha says he is supposed to, but after being in a marriage with a man who had serious issues with the harchokas, I am a bit more wary. I want to make sure any man I marry is completely committed to practicing TH fully.

Sure enough, he spoke with his Rov and his Rov told him that a) knowing him, he won't have any problems following the halachas happily, and b) that he will learn everything he needs to know in the chosson classes, and he doesn't need to know more before them.

This answer scared me a little, because really, I don't know if I can go into an engagement/marriage without knowing that the man is committed to it 100%. TH is hard enough as it is, so much more so with someone who resents the practices (not that this man does).

I thought about it some more and the truth is, at this point, I'm so out of the loop in terms of TH, I will have to relearn everything all over again. Counting, Calendar, harchokas, etc. I realized, you know what, we will be going forward together - even though I've done it before, it will in some ways be new again to me.

And hopefully it will be new because I will be with someone who wants to do the right thing and follow the halachas instead of with someone who is doing it begrudgingly...

If you're like me, when you started keep TH you had to retrain yourself. Retrain yourself to not look at the toilet paper after you wiped. I can tell you of many occasions when I put myself into niddah earlier than I expected. There's nothing quite like having to figure out how you're going to get that "used" piece of toilet paper home from Yankee Stadium to show to the rov. Oh yeah, I've got room for that in my fanny pack. And definitely, there won't be anything in contact with it inside my fanny pack. Oh Yeah.

Regardless, look at it this way. Now there's a product on the market to help you from discovering those TP shailahs - you've heard of black underwear, you've heard of black panty liners - well now, there's black toilet paper.

Please, I don't care if it doesn't go with your bathroom decor. I don't care if your nosy relatives and guests are going to ask you, "so are you tahor or what?" Just imagine the thrill of being able to wipe and look without having to mentally repeat to yourself, "don't look at the toilet paper, don't look at the toilet paper, don't look at the toilet paper!"

[sarcasm aside, if you've got a private bathroom, why not? and honestly, I don't know what a rov would make of this]

It's been a long time. I just today had the werewithall to look at the sight. TH and Mikvah have been so far out of my line of sight for so long I couldn't wrap my head around it.

BH things have been good. And I've been able to see a few(!) positive aspects of not going to the mikvah. I don't miss the counting, I don't miss the bedikahs, I don't miss the last minute before shkiah bedikas, I don't miss tracking down a Rov. I have discovered the joy (and impracticality) of a pedicure with polish! and sparkles! And I don't feel it's frivoulous because I don't have to worry about taking it off in a few weeks!

But of course, now, I've begun dating. And I've begun to think about the idea of being with a man again and the idea of keeping TH again. And while I still miss the idea of going to the mikvah, in some ways it seems ephemeral - hard to nail down, hard to imagine - kind of like when I was single and when I was a kallah. There is an unknown charachter to it - what will it be like to keep TH with someone else? It was intimate, me, my (ex) husband, and the mikvah lady (and occasionally the rov), and that was it. (Okay so that last sentence sounds like Menage a Trois, but you know what I mean).

IMYH I will someday meet my bashert (it should be soon), but what will it mean to keep TH with someone other than my ex? What I mean is that is was something special and intimate between us, how will that dynamic change with a new husband? I get the sense that the first time may feel like I am violating some sacred vow or connection.

For a guy I can't stand. Weird ain't it?

It’s funny how we mark time as we pass through the different parts of our lives.

As children, we mark time by our birthdays. I’m five and a quarter. Six and a half. Seven and three-quarters. I’ll be sixteen next month. Two more months until I can drive. One more week until I can drink (legally).

As single adult women, we mark time by how long we’ve been single. Gosh, I’m graduating high school/seminary/college, how much longer until I meet the guy? I’m not getting any younger. This is the age my mother got married at. This is the age my sister got married at. My friends are all married, why aren’t I. Two more years and I’ll be an old maid.

And as married women, we learn to count time by the mikvah. Five days until I can try for a hefsek. Seven days of bedikas. What time is the rov answering shaylas? Two hours of preparation time. How many weeks until I’m in niddah again? I’m pregnant – eight months off from the mikvah! A beautiful baby – but six weeks away from my husband.

* * *

Today I got my period. For the second time since the Get. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The first time my period came, it was on yom tov morning, it caught me off-guard, and I cried on and off the whole day. I cried most of that night. The futility of my reproductive organs hit me full-force.

I have struggled most of my adult life with irregular periods, long periods, lack of ovulation and menstruation, and infertility. My first child was born through medical assistance. G-d somehow decided I now merited fertility, and promptly made me pregnant (surprise!) less than a year after my first child was born. After my second child’s birth G-d then decided he would bless me with even better fertility – regular ovulation. With great sadness (because I was nervous to take the chance of having another baby in such a troubled marriage), I started using a diaphragm for birth control after my second child’s birth. And does G-d have a sense of humor? Of course he does. Not only was I ovulating, buy my cycle became much, much shorter than it had been for all my adult life. From 38 days to 31 days. Here I am, more fertile than I have ever been in my entire life, and I can’t get pregnant. The loss felt huge, enormous, overwhelming.

And here I am, divorced (!), extremely fertile, and unable to bring neshamas down from atzilus to asiyah*.

* * *

The first cycle after the Get, I caught myself still counting, habitually. Okay today is the first day of my period, I can try to make hefsek on Wednesday, which means if everything goes right I’ll toivel next Wednesday, but more than likely Friday, how will I make arrangements for Friday night? And then I caught myself. No more bedikas, no more counting, no more “Kosher, Kosher, Kosher.” No one to put perfume on for. No one to come home to. No one to announce to, “I have toiveled myself.” No one to hug.

It was very sad. Very sad, indeed.

This second cycle, I was expecting my period – I knew it would appear any day, my breasts are tender (also a gift from Hashem after the birth of my second child. Hey, thanks G-d.), I have looked at the calendar. My fingernails and toenails are getting long; I usually let them grow until I have to toivel. It still catches me off guard, but not more than usual. The feeling of loss has lessened greatly, mostly because I’m too busy with life to think about it too deeply. I have prepared mentally for the worst (that I will not merit to get remarried and hence not have more children), but am hoping for the best (that within the next year or two I will merit an amazing husband who will want to have more children and be able to support them).

In the interim, I am stuck between the potential and the actual. Between heaven and earth.

*Atzilus – world of “Emanation,” highest of the Four Worlds, connected with etzel, i.e. nearest to the Source of creation, the Ein Sof, hence still in a state of Infinity.
Asiyah – fourth of the Four Worlds, generally translated by “Action.”…Asiyah should be understood as the final stage in the creative process.

(I wrote this some time ago, but had to put it down and today was the first I was able to come back to it - please forgive me if the tenses are off.)

Last night I did the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I went to the mikvah knowing I wasn't going to be using it for a long time.

I went to the mikvah knowing that when I came home I was going to ask for a get.

It's a long time coming in my marriage and I have been trying, doing, changing, and very much turning a blind eye for most of the years of my marriage. But when Rabbonim, Rebbetzins, therapists, and friends all tell you it's time, it's over and it's okay, then it really is okay.

I wasn't sure how I was going to react or be able to do it, and so I asked my best friend to call one of the mikvah ladies (we'll call her R) whom I consider a friend (outside the mikvah) and ask her to come to the mikvah and be my mikvah lady. "Just tell her I need a friend tonight," I said. Mercifully, R said she would be at the mikvah for the first hour, and that she would be happy to help me however I needed.

I splurged and got a manicure and pedicure, because I thought, hey, when am I going to be able to afford this again and when am I going to need these again?

I went to the mikvah and got in the tub. And I talked to Hashem. And I asked for help and strength and wisdom. And I did my prep. Surprisingly, I am usually very madayick (strict) about my preparations, and this time I wasn't. Okay, so maybe that shouldn't be a surprise, but to me it was.

As I lay there in the water, flossing my teeth, Hashem gave me words of strength to repeat to myself. I prepped as fast as I could, so that I wouldn't miss the opportunity to toivel with R. The only other option that night was the tactless Israeli lady because the head mikvah lady (who is a sweet and gentle bubbie) was out of town at a simcha. I didn't think I would be able to do it with Mrs. Tactless (she's the one I wrote about here).

Usually when I prep, I leave my teeth brushing for last because I always call for the mikvah lady first and then brush while waiting for her. Today I didn't want to take the chance. I hurried through my teeth and buzzed for the mikvah lady.

Surprise, surprise, she wasn't there yet. SO GLAD I rushed! I went back over my teeth while waiting. And I waited. And waited. And waited. 30 minutes after I originally buzzed, I buzzed again. I didn't want to take any chances with him "going to sleep because I'm tired." She had just arrived and there were a bunch of ladies ahead of me. Gam tzu L'tova!

So I waited some more and then R finally knocked on my door. I opened the door and she smiled at me. Then she took me into the mikvah room and put her hands on my face and said, "Can you please tell me what's going on shayna maideleh?"

And with that I burst into tears and spilled the whole thing out to her. "I don't think I can do this. This is SO hard R." I said to her. We spoke for about 10 minutes while she encouraged me. She asked me if I had spoken to the Rov about toiveling in light of the situation. I told her I had and he had told me I needed to toivel in case my husband tried to force himself on me sexually(although I doubted he would and he didn't). And plus, I wanted some comfort from him and a hug if you can believe it.

She encouraged me some more. She checked my fingernails and toe nails and I went down to the mikvah. A few times I turned to go back up because I felt like I couldnt' do it. And finally I got to the bottom of the steps and with tears running down my checks I immersed. I broke through the water and covered my head and said the brocha, my voice cracking.

And then I davened. I davened that Hashem should either heal my marriage or show me the right way. I davened that Hashem should help my husband to heal and do the right thing by our children. I davened that Hashem should help me heal from this. I davened that Hashem should help me have strength. And I davened that Hashem should only give me Ohr Ein Sof (Infinite light) and revealed good.

Then I dunked the rest of the times. I came out and R gave me a big hug and said, "You can do this. You're a strong woman. Yasher Koach." I tied my robe around me, put my glasses on and she touched me again, saying it was a segulah (for what I'm not exactly sure as I wasn't getting pregnant that night). She led me back to my room and wished me well. I got dressed and buzzed to the attendant that I was ready to go. She let me out, I washed my hands, had some popcorn, and decided to walk home instead of taking a car service.

I walked out into the hot, muggy night, and I felt truly, for the first time in all my years in using the mikvah, that I had somehow gained that elusive feeling of rebirth and renewal. I felt a new woman, powerful and strong. I went home and told him I wanted a get. I didn't falter or stumble, I didn't cry, I stayed strong. And he said he would give it to me. And I was a new woman.

A friend who got married 10 months ago gave birth today. She called to tell me the whole birth story.

And I got so jealous. Gosh, those hormones are in full force. I just finished my period and am in the midst of counting. I want to be pregnant. I want to give birth. I want to have a new baby in my arms.

But I can't let my emotions get the better of me. When I stop to actually think about these things, I realize that a) I HATE being pregnant. Pregnancy is physically very difficult for me and I'm basically useless for most of my pregnancy. b) Both my labors were difficult (the first more than the second), and I'm high risk so there has been a lot of medical intervention in both of my labors. And c) the last thing I need right now is two demanding toddlers and a demanding newborn.

Gosh, the thought of having three little kids all screaming at the same time is enough to make me run for my diaphragm.

Okay, that was a good reality check. But I still want a baby!

All my menstruating life, I've had irregular periods. I've gone as long as 8 months without a period (I wasn't ovulating), but generally I fall in the 35-45 day range. In fact, over most of my married life, I've had a 33-38 day cycle averaging about 35 days long. Even after my pregnancies I reverted back to my predictable irregular/long cycle.

I have gotten use to it; it has it's pluses and minuses.

Plus - I only get my period about 9 times a year. I have a long Tahor time. I have trouble remembering the harchokas because of it. I usually feel free to not have to worry about is my period coming? Do I need to wear a black skirt just in case?

Minus - I only ovulate about 9 times a year. I have a lesser chance of getting pregnant because I'm ovulating less. Right now, while on birth control, this is not such a big deal.

So I made peace with the whole long/irregular cycle deal a long time ago. G-d and I made a deal - he'll let me have those babies (even with an infertility issue) and I won't complain about not ovulating so much.

But G-d is screwing with the deal now. The last 3 months my cycle has come the day after my benoni or chodesh. That's right. I've got a flipping 30 day cycle now. This is not okay G-d. This is definitely a violation of our deal.

I am not used to this. I've never had a cycle this short in my life. I feel like I barely got home from the mikvah and boom, I'm niddah again. How do people deal with this? Or people with 28 day cycles who can never seem to make hefsek until the seventh day (or later)?

I don't want to try and mess with "nature", I'm taking enough meds as it is, but I would like to try and figure out a way to make my period longer again. I've been menstruating the same way for 15+ years and this is a big change for me.

Does anyone else have this phenomenon? When I come home from the mikvah, I'm STARVING. Ravishing hungry. I frequently eat a huge dinner of steak, mashed potatoes, spinach, etc. when I come home from the mikvah.

My theory is that there is some psychological connection between the chlorinated water of the mikvah and my childhood associations with swimming pools (also chlorinated water). There's something about swimming that makes me hungry - aren't your kids always hungry after swimming?

Does this happen to anyone else? Because maybe I'm just a bit mental with the mental associations.

I didn't think it could happen so soon...

... Last night as soon as shabbos ended I started to get dressed so I could go to the mikvah. It took my husband about 30 minutes to get home and in that time, my three year old asked me, "Mommy, where are you going?" She saw I had my sheitel and shoes on and she knew I must be leaving. The only answer I could give her was, "Mommy is going out to do a mitzvah." Thank goodness she didn't ask any more than that!

My husband hates it.

Unfortunately, using a diaphragm is our only option without having a halachic or medical issue. I'm terrified of an IUD, and hormonal birth control (pill, norplant, seasonal, etc) are contra-indicated because of a medical condition (not to mention the fact they make me NERVOUS). And my husband is complaining because he can "feel" the diaphragm.

So I have a conondrum - I am using the diaphragm on mikvah night and in that first week when I know I'm ovulating. And so far, I've been using it the rest of the time, but I'm beginning to consider not using it towards the end of my cycle. BUT! that puts me at some risk - because my cycle is irregular, without a ovulation kit or a sonogram really, I don't know if I'm ovulating at the time we're together. So there is a chance, no matter how small it is.

But the percentage of that chance is about the same as the percentage of me that secretly wants to get pregnant again. But my marriage can't handle another pregnancy right now.

My husband says he is willing to use a condom (!) but that I'm the one that has to ask the Rov (he's too embarrassed). I don't feel like I can do it.

To this is what goes through my head about this whole thing:
Does this make me a bad Jew because I am using birth control? Does this make me a bad mother because I can barely take care of the kids as it is and now I want another one? Does this make me a selfish woman because I want to be pregnant? Does this make me a weak person because I can't be "man enough" to ask the Rov such a shayla?

I can't afford to get pregnant now, even though I want to. My body, mind and soul can't handle it. But I really, really, really have the baby fever, bad.

So last night was my fifth day, and I usually try to make Hefsek Tahara on that day. But things were upside down in my house with a new cleaning lady, my husband home (not usually home thursday nights), and my best friend arrived from out of town. Things were a little hectic to say the least. Candle lighting in NYC is 8:13 this week, which means shkiah is 8:31. I realized at 8:28 that I hadn't made hefsek tahara yet (in the middle of eating pizza no less). So I ran to the bathroom and started trying. Problems, problems, problems. Finally, at the last second I thought one was almost close enough to "clean enough", and then just shoved a bedikah in and left it there as moch dochuk. And then I went about my merry way.

At about 9:00 I realized that I never officially had a "hefsek tahara". Because I didn't have a previous bedika that was perfectly clean, all I had was technically a moch dochuk. And in my mind I never said this is hefsek tahara and this is moch dochuk. I was so frazzled that I forgot how you're supposed to do it!!!!

AAAARGHHH. Hashem had a sense of humour. I reached the Rov on the first try (a miracle in itself). But alas, as they say I was BOL (bedikah out of Luck). The moch dochuk can not count as the hefsek tahara! The hefsek is halacha, the moch dochuk is din. So you can have hefsek tahara without a moch dochuk, but you can't have a moch dochuk without a hefsek tahara. And trust me I tried to wheedle him into giving me some sort of heter, you know it's crazy in my house, and now this means I will have to immerse on shabbos, isn't that a problem? And, G-d bless the Rov, he said he was sorry, the halacha stood as is, and that in the future I should set an alarm clock for candlelighting time so that I don't get stuck again (and of course I explained to him that I usually do it at that time, but again things were a bit upside down in my house).

So I will try again to make hefsek tahara this afternoon/tonight, BUT my husband is away for shabbos, and I have a house full of guests! And of course, if there is a problem with the moch dochuk, I will have to make a second hefsek tahara at the end of shabbos just in case friday's is no good. (This is because there is no eiruv between our house and the Rov's.) G-d help me!

Just hoping that everyone (who is in the USA) took a moment today to think about what Independence Day means for us as Jews.

Without guaranteed Freedom of Religion, we might still be breaking the ice in the middle of the night to toivel. We might never have had children because we had never been to the mikvah. We might have to hide our practices from the public instead of freely speaking anonymously on a website.

So I say, thank you our founding fathers - for giving me the ability to freely practice my religion (no matter how much I complain) in this day and age.

It finally happened. I got my tri-annual hair-buzzing. About three times a year, and at least always in the beginning of the summer. I buzz my hair off with men's clippers. Or rather, my husband does the buzzing. Now, I don't do it for minhag/historical reasons (that's another post) and I don't do it neccessarily for the mikvah. I do it mostly for tsnius and for comfort.

For some reason, the hair at the back of my neck grows at an abnormal rate. I have a shoulder length wig, and frequently, I find that my hair from the nape of my neck is sticking out from the cap by an inch or two. It's not cool because then I can't put my wig into a pony tail. And I have to say, wearing a wig is the equivalant of wearing a fur hat in the summer. And unless my hair is at basic-training length, I suffer from the heat.

So my husband buzzes my hair for me (when I'm not in niddah, and when he's not too tired when he gets home, and when the cleaning lady will be coming the next day). But I know that it's a big turn-off for him. He doesn't like to buzz my hair, but he does it because he knows how uncomfortable it can get in the summertime.

That's why planning a hair cut is so vital. I try to get it as close to niddah as possible, but can't be too close or I miss my window. But if I do it too soon after the mikvah, my husband isn't interested in relations - too weird for him.

So does it make it easier for the mikvah? Yes, because in my "real" life my hair is very, very curly. So keeping my hair short/buzzed makes mikvah a lot less stressful. I remember as a kallah obsessing over keeping my hair "unknotted" and kept combing and combing until the mikvah lady got to the room. Now I use a drop or two of baby shampoo and am ready to go hair-wise.

Does anyone else out there have things they do for comfort/mikvah prep that weird their husbands out?

I had a weird night tonight.

But let's start at my point for posting - sometimes mikvah comes at an "inconvient" time. Albeit it was not my fault, I spent every night this week out of the house - not giving my kids the quality time they needed. Sunday we had relatives over and then a l'chaim to go to. Monday night we had a surprise l'chaim to go to (BH I got a babysitter at the last minute). Last night I had a doctor appointment followed by a major grocery shop at the kollel store. And tonight I had to scramble (AGAIN) for a babysitter so I could go to the mikvah.

In the end I found someone an hour and a half before I was due to leave for the mikvah, and boy was I sweating it. My kids didn't cry when I left, but I see that they are suffering because I haven't been home at night this week.

When the car service brought me to the mikvah, the haitian driver asked me, "So what is this place? A hospital or something? I'm always bringing people here. Is it a doctor's office or something?" I didn't want to tell him the emes, so I just said, "Or something." and got out of the car.

And then when I went inside there was someone ahead of me who was arguing with the front desk clerk about whether or not she could use conditioner - except the clerk basically only spoke Russian and Yiddish and the lady ahead of me only spoke French and Hebrew. Comical to say the least.

And then I had a mikvah lady I've never had before, and she was so attentive - it was a pleasure - she really inspected each fingernail and toenail instead of just glancing them over.

And then when I called for a car service to go home and I said, "I'm going to XXX Street," the driver answered, "123 XXX Street?" I answered, "Yes, and how do you know that?" His response was that he had heard them call for my pickup (on the way to the mikvah) over the radio. Ah, to be famous at the car service, lol.

And then when I got home, BOTH my children were still awake. Just what I don't want when I get home.

Although before I wished I could toivel on another night, in the end I was glad I went tonight. Gam Tzu La Tova!

I have a very long cycle. Like I average a 38 day cycle. And I have spent most of the last four years either pregnant or nursing clean, so I have not been in Niddah often.

As a result I have difficulty with the calendar and need a review every 6 months or so. And I have difficulty with the harchokos. I was married for a number of years before I got pregnant, so there I was with my (average) 38 day cycle, and I'm telling you by the time I got my period each month, I couldn't remember from one cycle to the next what the halachas were.

Frequently the following is heard in my house:

"Oops, I wasn't supposed to pass you that."

"Um, what do I need to put on the table between us? A vase? Oh, right, I forgot."

"Wait, I can't sit on your bed when you're home, but I can sit on your bed when you're not home?"

"I left your plate of food on the counter - and no, it's not because I'm angry, I just can't serve you."

"Can you please get me a glass of water, oh scratch that."

It can get frustrating especially with small kids and ESPECIALLY on a holiday like Purim. I wish that there was an easier way, but I can see now that the harchokos are there for a reason, and that absence (from touch) is making my heart grow fonder. Erev Purim I could have REALLY used a hug from my husband. And because he couldn't give me one made me want one all the more so.

A long cycle also screws up the calendar. I recall once having 10 haflagos that I was carrying over every month. It got to the point that every month I put my haflagos on the calendar in a different colored pencil, just so I could keep track of which haflagos were from this cycle and which were being carried over from a previous cycle. I just had a highly irregular cycle and didn't pass all those haflagos until I got pregnant. And with that many haflagos I would get my period and not pass the haflagos and still have to seperate. I once was supposed to go to the mikvah on a Wednesday which was Tisha B'Av. So it was pushed off to the next day. But I had a carry-over haflago from the previous cycle that thursday. So I called the Rov and he told me I had to push it off to the next day. Which put me on Friday night. And I asked the Rov? I push it off onto Shabbos? I thought we can't push things off onto shabbos (i.e. a late bris). And he told me nope, I should go on Friday night.

So now that I'm getting my period, and not getting pregnant (see my previous entry for details), I have to start all over again with the caledar and the halachos. I see it's time to call my kallah teacher for a refresher course. I once heard that it's good to have a review at least once a year. And I can't agree more. When I was pregnant with my last child I took a review course and discovered that I had been counting one of my onahs wrong. Oy, yo, yo, was I upset. But at least I wasn't counting my five and seven wrong. That would have been far, far worse.

Anyway, my point behind all this is to encourage people to feel good and relaxed and not embarassed, CHV'S, about taking refresher courses. They help everyone out.

I recently went to the mikvah - as in I was in niddah. My baby is basically sleeping through the night and so the nursing is not enough to keep my period away. I got what I thought was my period but it completely "dried up" within three days. So I counted five and seven and went to the mikvah.

I guess I will have to update my profile, because now I'm not "nursing clean" anymore. This makes me sad; sad on many levels.

It means my baby is growing up. It means that I could get pregnant again, although not really. I don't "do well" when I'm pregnant and it puts a great strain on my marriage. In fact, I would go as far to say that when I'm pregnant I'm a completely different woman - a hormonal, whacked out, emotional nutball.

So after I had this most recent baby, I went to the Rov.

And I asked for a heter.

It was perhaps the hardest thing I've ever asked a rov about. Maybe because it was so deeply personal, maybe because the last time I used birth control I didn't have to ask permission from another person, maybe it was because I would have to admit that I don't know if I can handle three babies under the age of four. It took a lot of tears and a lot of explaining that maybe my marriage would be at risk if I got pregnant again too soon, but in the end he gave me one for a certain amount of time.

Well, that time is up in a few months - and of course, now that I'm not nursing clean I need that heter more than ever. I am terrified that if I get pregnant again I will lose it completely.

I went to the Rov while I was in the seven clean days for a shailah on a stain, and while I was there I asked for an extension of the heter. He gave me another six months.

And so I went to the mikvah, the place from which all the brochas for children come from, and then went home and put in my diaphragm. And for the first time in my life, I went to the mikvah knowing that there was no way a child could result from it. It was a big let down and I felt like why was I even going? There was no way I was going to get pregnant!

It's then when I realized that in some small part of my mind I realized that one of the reasons I married my husband was so I could have children. He is just a means to an end - the goal of having children. Of course that's not the only reason why I married him. But now that goal is gone, at least for the immediate future.

And what's left?

The idea that my self worth is not directly proportional to the number of children I bear and raise. That and the real work - of developing a loving and emotionally healthy husband-wife relationship, a substantial parent-child relationship.

Am I going to feel like my life is futile unless I keep pumping out those babies?

I'm afraid.

I think I’ll get my proverbial “feet wet” with a mikvah story about a friend, rather than myself. I was still a single girl when a good friend told me this story.

She was in her 30s, after being frum for a number of years. She was married for over three years and had been told by a few infertility specialists that she and her husband could never get pregnant without medical assistance (funny how often you hear that). She had been given a heter to only make bedikahs on the first and last day of counting (I don’t recommend this practice unless you absolutely must). The trick to this is that you must remember to make that last bedikah; if you forget you have to start counting all over again. (Just a technical note, this is a complicated matter and you should consult with a Rov and a Kallah Teacher if you have such a heter/practice and if you experience what happens next.)

So here was my friend who had made only her first bedikah, and she and her husband went “out of town” to help friends who were running a Purim Party at a Jewish Old Age home. She was due to make her last bedikah that day and toivel that evening. As everything Jewish goes, the Purim party started late, ran late and they left back to Brooklyn late. Sure enough, they got stuck in traffic, and between the craziness of the day and the traffic she either forgot or couldn’t make the last bedikah before sunset. She called the Rov who told her, unfortunately because she had not made any bedikahs other than the first, she would have to start all over again – i.e. if she had made even one bedikah in the middle she could have started counting seven again from that middle bedikah. But now she would have to start over again.

Devastated and with great mesiras nefesh, she counted again, feeling that now this was a wasted cycle, and that by the time she got to the mikvah it would be too late to get pregnant. Gam tzu la tova she told herself. This time she made sure to make her bedikah on the last day. She went to the mikvah feeling sad and blue. She bathed and prepared herself for the mikvah. When she was ready she rang the desk, and in a few minutes one of the mikvah ladies came to take her to the mikvah. Now this is a busy mikvah with four or five mikvah ladies that split up the days of the week amongst them – you never know which mikvah lady you will get on any given day. The mikvah lady, who hadn’t seen my friend in some time said, “I haven’t seen you in such a long time! Do you get a mazel tov? Did you have a baby?” Now I’m sure the mikvah lady had the best of intentions, but this just pushed my friend over the edge.

She began to cry and couldn’t stop. She explained that no, she wasn’t pregnant yet. The mikvah lady apologized, but my friend couldn’t stop crying. As she told me, “I couldn’t tell if the water I immersed in was rain water or my own tears.” She toiveled, the mikvah lady apologized again, she got dressed and went home a broken woman.

Of course, I’m sure you figured out by now, that she had a beautiful baby nine months later; a child that has gone on to be a bright star – a smart, funny, and beautiful six year old – and the now the oldest of four with a fifth on the way.

I tell this story not because of the miracle or divine providence in her getting pregnant, but because of her mesiras nefesh to keep halacha and to remind everyone to watch what they say. The mikvah lady in question was oblivious to this person’s situation and made what she thought was a nice comment. It devastated my friend instead. But perhaps that devastation was the teshuva she needed to get pregnant. I don’t know. I just know that if it was me I would have probably hauled off and belted the mikvah lady.