My Life as a Monogamist

This post is one that needed to come, but it is one that has been hard to even start writing.

How do you follow thirteen years of plural marriage?  What do you do after you went in front of television cameras and put your family up as an example of polygamy?  And what do you do when it doesn't work out for you?

On Facebook, there was a campaign to nominate someone to be a National Polygamy Advocate.  Someone put my name up as a nomination.  I was flattered, but I declined.  How can I advocate for something that I am not currently living?

So how have the weeks been since my second wife and I split up?

Well, even though I know that we did it for a reason, even though I know that there was a spiritual and intellectual purpose behind the separation, it has still been hard emotionally.  I still feel a tremendous sense of loss. I feel as if I have lost my best friend.  I analyze constantly what I did wrong, what I could have done better.

But I have learned that I am stronger than I thought.  I watched other people go through divorce and thought, "Man, they are handling it so much better than I could."  Amazingly, I have surprised myself at how well I have handled it.  Now that I have actually experienced it - gone through the thing that I feared most, I realize that this is something that I can get through.

It helps that Temple has been a sweetheart through it all.  It has not been easy.  We have had a couple of clashes - mainly dealing with the kids.  But she has been really exemplary through all of this.  She has had to catch a lot of flak from people who want to judge or criticize.  I wish I could protect her from that, but I can't always do that.  People are going to think what they want, and I have found that very few understand why we did this.  There are expectations of how couples who break up should act around each other, and Temple and I don't fit that stereotype.

I see her almost everyday because of the kids.  We have created a schedule where we share the parenting responsibilities of the kids.  The boys go back and forth between homes.  Temple has made a great effort to be there for the other children, the kids I share with Martha.  She is present for birthdays and sporting events.  She made a special trip to the university Sophie attends, just to spend the day with her.  She has been gracious and kind and understanding.  No one on this planet knows me better than she does, and I am glad to have her in my life, even if our roles have changed.

One thing that has amazed me in all of this - in this separation, we are an example, too.  I have received many messages and emails from people thanking us and commending us for breaking up with dignity, and without the expected hatred or vitriol.  The three of us - Temple, Martha, and I - we were a true example of plural marriage.  There was nothing feigned about it.  We had a good marriage.  And in our separation, we were an example, too.

I will always be grateful for that.

Then there is Martha.  Martha has been my rock, my anchor.  I could have not got through this without her.  She has been a tremendous source of strength.  She has stayed so positive through all of this.  I  love her so much for sticking with me, for enduring the heartbreak I have gone through, and for being so patient with me.

So what happens now?

I have been taking this time to heal - not just emotionally, but physically.  (See previous post for my many ailments.)  There are many things to adjust to.  No more do I have to go between houses, between wives.  All of my days are spent with Martha.  Our bond has strengthened and grown.  But both of us feel empty, like something is missing.

One of the first things that Martha asked me was, "Are you going to take another wife?  Are you going to let this end your desire to move forward in the gospel?  Are you going to go forward and live the Principle again like you should?"

Of course, the answer is - I'm  not ready yet.  And yet I have a feeling that I will not remain a monogamist long.

My main goal right now is to focus on my health, which is very poor right now.  After that, I may turn my thoughts to adding to my family again.  After all, as I blurted out on international TV, "I am a polygamist at heart."

Amniomatrix

*WARNING - GRAPHIC PICTURES BELOW - NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH*

Hello, it's the guy who is supposed to go on a full-out walk-about next year.  Except that I murdered my feet on a weekend in New York last August.

In the weeks following New York, my right foot - the foot that has given me problems for a couple of years - healed up pretty nicely.  But I still had to keep it bandaged.  It was still oozing blood slightly.

The left foot.  The left foot that gave me no problems before New York.  It just got worse and worse. My daily routine:

1)  Clean the wound.

2)  Put triple antibiotic in it.

3)  Put a gauze pad over it.

4)  Wrap it with rolled gauze.

5)  Put sock and shoe on.

6)  Pull off bloody gauze and sock at the end of the day.

It wasn't getting any better.  My foot was developing a thick callus that did not want to close up.  To make matters worse, my doctor was out of town on vacation.  He got back and took one look at my feet and scheduled the stem cell treatment - a procedure that we had been talking about for a while.

When I talked about this procedure and mention stem cells to people, they automatically assume that I will be putting dead babies in my feet.  No, these injections are called "amniomatrix".  They harvest the stem cells from discarded amniotic fluid from delivering moms.  I was surprised how often I had to explain myself, sometimes more than once to the same person.  This shows how controversial stem cell research still is.

The doctor's assistant told me to show up to the hospital.  I could eat that day, take my meds, etc.  The hospital called the day before - no food or liquids after midnight.  So I showed up that afternoon - lightheaded from not eating, hoping for some propofol.  (I no longer eschew anesthetics.)  The doctor walked in and said I didn't need any anesthesia.  He scraped out the wound and injected my wounds every centimeter with the amniomatrix.  He wrapped them and told me to stay off of my feet.

With a stack of movies and a stack of books in my room, I set out to heal my feet.  I stayed in bed as much as I could, and I got around with crutches.  After a couple of days, there was a smell like rotten meat.  It started to worry me.  Plus my foot was still draining like crazy.  I called the doctor.  He said it was normal.

Most of all, it was being down.  It reminded me too much of last year, when I was tethered to the same bed by an IV line.  It reminded me of that dark time, and everything horrible that happened afterwards.  In other words, it was a very emotional time for me.

It has been a little over a week since the procedure.  It is too soon to tell.  I would like to believe in a miracle cure.  But I have to fight my skepticism.  Hopefully my feet will be healed soon, and I will be on my way to walking this world again.

Below is my right foot, and then my left foot, before the procedure.  Hopefully, I can someday post a photo of them healed.