Something Bigger

I can't do this anymore.

I have thought this thought a thousand times in the past month. When I'm crawling out of bed to nurse a crying babe who just ate less than an hour ago but the burning acid in his throat makes him want comfort food yet again. When I'm sleeping in a chair in the wee hours of the morning because my reflux baby just can't breathe lying down from all the congestion that's accumulated overnight. When I'm starving from breastfeeding hunger and all of a sudden the toddler wants food stat, the dryer is ringing off with good clothes that can't wrinkle, and the newborn wakes up screaming when you thought he'd sleep at least another half hour. 

These are such small crosses. So why do they feel so heavy? 

Because I haven't slept more than two hours straight in weeks...and I'm lucky if I catch two sets of two hours per night. Sleep deprivation will show you the worst of you. It will take you to mental and emotional depths of despair (you know it, Anne Shirley) that you hadn't known you could reach. Some days you'll feel like a robot, utterly disconnected from everyone you love, even that sweet and precious new baby. 

It's hard, guys. It's so hard. I wrestle with the fact that this suffering is so small compared to others. I recently read this book and I can't begin to think of the suffering of those living through WWII, especially in the concentration camps. We don't have chronic or terminal diseases. We've had church family and friends (even blogger friends) shower us with prayers and love and support and meals (someone even paid for an appointment for our son and made me cry with gratitude). For goodness sake, our cross is in the form of a beautiful, beloved child when so many of our friends are suffering from infertility. 

But this is me. Stripped of all pride that I'm doing this motherhood thing well and right. I'm simply surviving and hoping for resolution. Hoping for guidance and healing and grace...for my little man's pain-- and for the ugly parts of me that have surfaced in the struggle. 

Yet there's the smallest part of me that desperately wants to whisper tentatively that maybe...just maybe...sometimes I am doing this motherhood thing right and well. That the stress arguments with my husband, the resentment that the baby is crying yet again, and the bitterness toward God for not helping us in my timing versus His...that those things happen less often than the smiles and strength (and even a few laughs) between my husband and I as we share the load and remind each other we'll get through this. The times that I snuggle and sing and play with my daughter and my son and feel their soft skin and hold them close and memorize their faces and know that this is true gift. The hundred times I've gently rocked my son close and spoken softly to him telling him that I'm here, I'm here for him in his pain. 

In another book I'm reading, Fr. Mike Schmitz speaks of the importance of remembering in our suffering that we are part of something bigger. Even in the most isolated crosses, we are a part of a larger plan and those crosses can have meaning and purpose. Nothing is wasted. We must have hope in this. Not a false optimism but a deep, abiding hope that God is with us in the hardest moment and He is bringing us through it. That He is using it for greater good. Not in our way or our time, but His. And He is good. 

So I hold on to that. In the hard moments that I cannot think straight from fatigue and the days feel like a blur of caring for these tiny humans and figuring out how to help one of them feel better, I will remember that we are part of something bigger. My children will grow up to (hopefully) contribute to this world and be with all of us and the Lord in the next. Our little home is a launching pad for a mission we cannot see during these days. Only God knows. But He is with us and He is at work. We may not see Him center stage during our sufferings, but we can trust He is behind the scenes.

It's a boy!

I'm so full of joy to introduce to you our son. He came early in a whirlwind of a series of complications but God's grace was so incredibly tangible throughout, and the labor and birth was a powerful and beautiful spiritual experience. We are so deeply grateful for him, and for all those who helped him get here safely as well as all the friends and family that have supported us in the postpartum period as well. I look forward to sharing more details of his birth. But for now, we are in the cocoon of early postpartum with all its sleepless nights and snuggly days, its roller coaster emotions through all the adjustments, and the indescribable current of awe and deep joy that runs throughout as we take in the reality of having these two precious children and the expanded hearts with which to love them.

What NOT to say when someone has a miscarriage

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I've tried to post a little something during this month each year in honor of our baby we miscarried two years ago.

As I reflected on miscarriage this month, I realized how incredibly difficult it is not only because of the grief you experience on a personal level, but because of our culture's confusion and insensitivity when it comes to life in the womb. If someone wants an abortion, our culture denies that the baby is a person, a human life, a unique individual. We callously state it's all about a woman's body and it's her choice and no one should judge or have specific opinions about it. We close off the matter entirely from each other. It's no wonder when a woman has a miscarriage, the world has no idea how to comfort her or how to offer respect and condolence for the unique little life she has just lost.

People say a lot of stupid things to a woman who has miscarried. And sometimes they say nothing at all. Here are four things NOT to say to someone who has a miscarriage...and a few thoughts on what you could do or say instead.

1) At least you can get pregnant and can have more kids. / At least you already have ___ number of kids.

These two go hand in hand depending on when your miscarriage occurred-- your first or somewhere down the line. Again this is our culture's predominant view on life in the womb-- that it's replaceable. One pregnancy is as good as another. Yet what a huge miss of the mark! Every conception results in a human being with unique DNA that has never been before and will never be repeated again. This is a unique human life. When a woman loses that life within her, she knows intuitively it cannot be replaced or repeated. That child was unique and the parents will never get to know him or her in this life. What to say instead: I'm so sorry for your loss. Acknowledge that this unique child's death was indeed a great loss, not something to be brushed over or replaced by other children. There are many organizations that sell sweet jewelry with a birthstone or engravings...these would make beautiful gifts to acknowledge the uniqueness of this child.

2) At least you were only ____ weeks along.

I get it. I get the sentiment behind this. We often think that the longer we know someone (or carry them beneath our hearts), the deeper we love them and the greater the loss. But you know what? Sometimes the earliest losses can be so deeply painful because we didn't get to have those moments and memories and we'll always wonder what might have been. This statement also suggests that human life becomes more valuable the bigger and older a child gets (something we see a lot of in abortion discussions...scary how much that has seeped into our view of life in general). I remember after our early loss having such a deep, tangible pain because my body was no longer carrying our child...I wanted so desperately to have more days, more weeks knowing he was alive beneath my heart. What to say instead: I'm so sorry for your loss. Sensing a trend here? It's always appropriate to give heartfelt, sincere condolences. A dear friend also asked my due date and remembered on the very date many months later to reach out to me-- that was so touching and amazing and rare.

3) Heaven needed an angel. 

This one drives me nuts for a couple reasons. First of all, humans don't become angels when they die. We become saints (hopefully if we go to heaven, that is.). I know it's cute to think of babies with angel wings but it's just not theologically sound or true. It sounds trite and superficial, however well-meaning it may be. The other thing is that heaven doesn't need anything or anyone. We don't understand God's ways or timing, so let's not assume we know that a mother lost her child because heaven needed it up there. ;) What to say instead...This may actually differ depending on your faith background. As Catholics, we believe in the Communion of Saints-- that those who die and go to heaven can pray for us from heaven in the same way we pray for each other on earth. So we believe that our miscarried children (knowing we would have baptized them had they lived) are in heaven, waiting for us and praying for us. For me, this was comforting to have others acknowledge. It further showed their respect for the tiny soul that had once been inside me, that my child's soul was eternal and his life has eternal significance despite the too short time on earth.

4) Everything happens for a reason. 

While it's true we have a sovereign God and nothing happens without first passing through His loving hand, this statement is so cliche and feels superficial. Kind of like something that someone says when they don't know what else to say. It's like a "shrug it off" type of statement. The truth is that we don't know why bad things happen sometimes...children die, people get cancer, hurricanes devastate. Yes, God is in control, but we also live in a fallen, broken world because of sin. So sometimes things happen that would not have been in God's perfect will. Yes, He permits them but He doesn't always cause things to happen because He had a "specific reason." Personally, I find much more comfort, strength, and hope in Romans 8:28 (an actual Bible verse instead of a cliche *wink*): "And we know that in all these things God works for good for those who love Him." We don't know why things happen, but we do know He will bring good from them. He is the Redeemer of all people and all things. What to say instead: God is with you in this. God weeps with you. God will bring grace in the midst of suffering. 

I hope this has been helpful on ways that we can weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). Miscarriage is such a silent cross in our country. Don't be afraid to step forward with your time and your presence to someone experiencing one. Acknowledge their loss. Offer a meal or treat. Give a gift of remembrance. And best of all, remember their child through the years by mentioning it on or near the miscarriage date or due date.

Every single person is created unique and unrepeatable by our good God. You are. Your friends are. And every tiny person in the womb.

Announcing...

Little Miss G has a new role coming next spring. As you can see, she is still adjusting to the idea, but my husband and I are thrilled! 

What I've Learned About Motherhood

The bad news: You are not in control.

The good news: God is in control, and He loves your children even more than you do-- and He loves you, too.

The end.

Haha! I was going to make this a long post and as I sat down to write, I felt like these two 'news pieces' just summed it all up! ;)

Happy Mother's Day to all the mamas-- including the spiritual ones, the grieving ones, the yet-to-be ones, the lonely ones, the perfect ones. Oh wait, not the last one. There's no such thing. ;)

Thank you, Jesus, for this precious gift of motherhood, for my child in heaven and my daughter on earth. May I become more and more like you through it and lead my children to you.

These Days

Other than book reviews, I'm not blogging much these days. I'm thinking a lot, but my fingers stall on the keys.

Not much is happening, yet so much is happening. I told my mama-friend the other day how odd it is when someone asks how I've been. To the outside eye, every day is simply the same-- staying at home with my daughter, the diapers and food and naps and such. Yet every day feels like a roller coaster internally with all the physical, mental and emotional energy the day commands. Especially the emotional. No one told me that motherhood would take me to the end of myself and mirror back to me not only the best of myself and my strength, but also the ugly parts and the weakness.

But there's this nagging fear that maybe I'm the only one who thinks this is hard. Maybe she has family that lives nearby to help. Maybe her husband has different work hours. Maybe my perfectionist personality brings on my own hardships. Maybe it's just me.

Then there's this nagging guilt that this is everything I've ever dreamed of, this life of home and hearth and husband and babies. Guilt for the friends' who want this so desperately. The friends whose left fingers are empty of a ring, or whose wombs are empty of a heartbeat. I know. I remember. So I feel guilty when having those things now feels hard. 

Sure, there are the days when music is playing and dinner is cooking and the baby is smiling and my soul is soaring. There can be nothing greater than this, I think, my heart fairly bursting with gratitude and joy in this season of my life. My husband is romantic and charming, my baby is gorgeous and endearing, myself productive and accomplished and enjoying a good hair day (ha! rarely for that last one!). The sun shines and I cannot think of a better way to spend my life.

This swinging of the pendulum drives me crazy. Why am I so fickle? Why cannot I not be steadfast in the mountains and the valleys? Why cannot I not remember the joys in the hard times? Why cannot I see the grace in the the distasteful moments? Why cannot I not "count it all joy" (James 1:2)?

We're coming out of a week of teething, tummy bugs, respiratory bugs, and freezing temperatures and snow. I'd like to say I handled it all with saintly wisdom and grace and patience, but instead I feel bedraggled and, well, dragged through it. The lack of sleep and the constant body fluids wore me down.

But there's the tiniest light inside me that says all is not hopeless within me. That even though I don't like what I see in myself, God sees more. That even though I might have trudged more than I danced through it, I still did it. I showed up and offered up and begged for grace. I saw the places where I need His healing and molding and cleansing. Isn't that what Lent is all about? Perhaps this is all the point. God is at work, but it is a process. And for someone like me, that's difficult. I want so badly to "do things right" from the start but God simply wants me to do them and give them to Him, letting go of the outcome....and maybe sometimes not even to do, but just be.

My delusion is often that since motherhood is my vocation, I must do it well (and dare I say perfect?) all of the time and from the very beginning. Yet I forget that because motherhood is my vocation, God is going to use it to make me into the woman He desires and created me to be-- which will not happen instantly but rather over a lifetime. And wouldn't it make sense that the very vocation that will shine light on the dark and broken places for healing to occur will be a little messy (or a lot!) at times? I know when I'm cleaning out a closet, it gets messier before it gets cleaner!

I'm broken, friends. And that's hard. But it's also hopeful! We serve a God who mends the broken places and makes beautiful mosaics from them...and then shines through them.

"We're all broken...that's how the light gets in." -Ernest Hemingway

Maybe it's time I start focusing on the Light instead of the broken.

Come, Lord Jesus, Light of the World, and shine through us this day, even and especially through the broken places.

On the Bookshelf

Since we've been snowed in (after all that gorgeous spring weather!! boo!) and little G. has not only been teething but also caught a small tummy bug and a big respiratory bug...needless to say, we've been home, indoors, and I've been reading a lot during snuggles and naps. Here are three that have been in our stack: one on marriage, one on motherhood, and one for little ones.



Your Marriage Masterpiece: Transform Your Relationship Through God's Amazing Design, by Al Janssen

This was a good book but not a great book for me. I fluctuated in my opinion through it actually. Some chapters I would be engrossed and think "YES! The world needs to read this!" and other chapters I would skim and feel like I've read similar things before. (Maybe I need to spend more time focusing on my marriage itself instead of reading books about it-- haha ;) ). A few things I liked: the book is a companion resource to The Family Project DVD by Focus on the Family. My husband and I LOVE that course/project, particularly the movie Irreplaceable (about the necessary connections of love/sex/marriage/children and how disconnecting those has broken down the family). I appreciate how much FotF has done and continues to do to promote healthy marriages and families. This book is definitely included in that effort. I liked the real-life stories of marriage. I liked the study guide included. I even liked the Biblical imagination narratives woven throughout, showing us how we are to mirror God's "marriage" to us in our marriages (very Catholic). I did not care for: some of the Biblical narratives were cheesy or took too much artistic liberty for my taste. I felt that the flow of the book was somewhat slow and didn't keep my attention. Overall, a good book on marriage but not one of the top five on that subject that I would recommend to someone.

[Thank you to Bethany House publishers for my complimentary review copy. This contains my honest and original thoughts on the book.]



Long Days of Small Things: Motherhood as a Spiritual Discipline, by Catherine McNiel

I did not expect to like this book as much as I am! I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but so far it's exceeding that! What a beautiful, inspiring, and even gently convicting book! Ann Voskamp has a review quote on the cover of this book and I can see why-- it has something of the mystic/poetic prose style that she uses when she writes. This book goes deep into the soul of motherhood by using the simplest, earthiest everyday things. The author writes about the (sometimes monotonous) things we experience as mothers and encourages us to find God in them...the God who became a baby, a child, to bring us closer to Him. He is in our children today and wants us to find Him in them...and to find Him in our own weary, changed bodies as well. One of my favorite parts was when she wrote about Jesus being one of us in the messiness of life-- how He lived with and joined the normal, everyday people and talked about fish, yeast, water, taxes as He ministered and taught the kingdom of God. I mean, I know this already but somehow reading her words and seeing Jesus like that was very tender for me. I also appreciated the Catholic vein woven throughout the book even though the author herself is not Catholic-- she writes a lot about the sacramental realities...God using tactile, tangible things to give grace and spiritual meaning to our lives (reminds me of another great book I'm reading by Laura Kelly Fanucci: Everyday Sacrament). At the end of each chapter, there are several reflection and practice points to integrate into your own life. This has been a very meaningful book to me and one that I will likely read more than once.

[Thank you to Tyndale Publishers for my complimentary review copy. This contains my honest and original thoughts.]





God Loves Daddy and Me, by Bonnie Rickner Jensen

I'm such a sucker for faith-based board books. This one does not disappoint. Beautiful illustrations and a touching story to introduce little ones to God's gentle and fatherly love for all of us. I like the specific message that God loves not only children but also adults (who are also His children). I think it's good for kids to learn that God loves us even as we grow and that God loves and takes care of mommy and daddy too so that they learn faith is not just for children, but also for us as we grow up! (Maybe even more necessary as we grow and lose that sense of childlike innocence and trust!) My only slight hesitation about the book is that some of the activities the dad and child do may not be ones all fathers do with their children-- build forts, go on picnics, etc. I wouldn't want a child to feel left out if their daddy doesn't do these things with them. Also, the raccoon child seems to be a boy, so not that a little girl and her daddy couldn't have these adventures, but there's a father-son feel to the relationship described. These are all fine things, but just information for those considering the book if they have a daughter. :)

Thank you to BookLook Bloggers for my complimentary review copy. This contains my honest and original thoughts.]

What Trust Looks Like

My daughter was loaded in the backseat of the car in her carseat. I glanced at her in the rearview mirror and then glanced up at the pin on my visor. A silver medal of Jesus (Divine Mercy) with the words "Jesus, I trust in You" below it. I breathed a quick prayer of it and we started on our way to the doctor.

The visor pin made me think of a conversation with my husband the day before. We were on our first date post-baby, a simple afternoon getaway to a bookstore and coffee shop. We were talking about what trust looks like for us in this season, when fears have a different shape than they did when we were single. I shared how one thing I learned during my single years is that when it comes to trust, we must trust in a Person, not an outcome. I couldn't necessary "trust" that I would get married and all would be well, but I could always, always trust that God was good and He loved me and He would take care of me.

Little did I know we were about to embark on yet another one of those journeys in learning to trust Him.

The doctor examined our baby girl and then excused herself from the room. She brought in another physician to examine her as well. They were both stumped and started to converse about options and diagnoses and possibilities. While they talked out loud, my heart was racing almost as fast as my mind. Fear was tightening its grip around my throat. They don't know what's wrong. I had hoped it would be a simple exam, obvious answer, and quick fix. But two doctors were confused about what was wrong with my daughter. They started talking about medications and xrays and other testing, but I could barely take it all in.

I called my husband to let him know we were headed to the bigger town's hospital for testing and if he could cancel the repair man that was supposed to come today to fix our water heater (when it rains, it pours). He promised to meet me at the hospital and I could hear the strains of worry in his voice, both of us trying to be strong for the other.

I stopped at Subway to get a quick sandwich so I could drive straight to the hospital instead of going back home. Of course, nothing is quick with a baby and time was in fuzzy, slow-motion ever since we'd left the doctor. I stood in line at Subway, not really caring what I ate but knowing I needed to eat something, and watched the people in front of me. When it was my turn to check out, the cashier glanced at me and said "our card machine just got jammed, so go ahead. No need to pay today."

And in that odd little moment, a distracted Subway manager reminded me to trust in a Person rather than an outcome. The small coincidence of my lunch being paid for on that day was a hug from God. A reminder that He was with us, He loved us, and He would take care of us no matter what lay ahead.

I got back in the car and continued our journey to the hospital, this time with peace instead of fear. A favorite song by Josh Wilson came on as yet another reminder of God's goodness, of the 'dark before the morning' and the 'pain before the joy.'

We still don't fully know the outcome, but things are looking so much better with her health and prognosis right now and we are so grateful for that. But I'm also grateful for the ways God showed up and reminded me to look to Him and not an outcome. He was, and is, tangibly present with His grace in our situation...first shown to me that day by a Subway manager.

A New Chapter

I've always dreamed of being a stay-at-home mom...but I never guessed how difficult it would be to make that change.

Yesterday I walked out of the door of my beloved workplace, now without a paying job (because hey, motherhood is a 24/7 job!) for the first time in ten years. And it was a lot for my little heart to process.

I LOVE being a nurse. I've loved it since nursing school all those years ago. Yet even then, I knew my even greater desire was to be a mom.

And here I am. All those years of waiting and praying and hoping, and I have an incredible husband, a lovely home, and a precious baby girl. We prayed for weeks before making the decision for me to stay home full time with our daughter and I felt undeniable grace and peace about the decision.

So why did it feel so hard to walk out yesterday and close that chapter of my life?

I am over-the-moon in love with my precious girl and she is truly our gift from God. Having a daughter is a dream come true. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to stay at home with her, care for her needs and our little home, and to greet my husband when he walks in the door after work. But that gratitude is undoubtedly joined by struggles in my heart and mind that have caused me to reflect. In my relatively short experience of being a mother, this is what I've learned. While I believe these are the reasons it can be challenging to be a stay-at-home mom, these really apply to all mothers.

There's a lack of affirmation. While my husband is great at thanking me for caring for our daughter or saying the house looks great after I've cleaned it, the reality is that there's very little affirmation for the amount of time, effort, and energy that go into motherhood. No one is affirming you for every little diaper you change, every load of laundry, every poop or spit-up stain you scrub, or even just for getting dinner on the table. And for someone whose love language is words of affirmation, that can be tough.

There's a lack of definition to your life. It's so easy to define ourselves by outer things like our jobs, majors, or other accomplishments. I loved saying I was a nurse, or that I was passionate about crisis pregnancy center work, sharing about different hobbies or pursuits I enjoyed, or even just the way I did my hair or makeup! In a lot of ways, I was defined by those things. They made me me. With a baby, so much of myself has felt stripped down to the bare minimum and there are moments when I've told my husband I don't even know who I am anymore. The raw beauty of this is that it causes me to recognize that my true definition comes from Christ, not the things I used to define myself.

It can be monotonous. Having been single for years, my life was my own and I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. A freedom to change it up whenever I felt stifled. New activities, rearranging furniture, new projects, outings with friends, and so on. But this young motherhood life is full of monotony-- diapers, nursing, dinners, and sleep (or attempts to do so for both of us!). It can be tempting to lose sight of the eternal worth of the monotonous.

It is so easy to doubt your abilities. With a job outside the home, there are measurable goals and outcomes. You see the results of your efforts fairly quickly. There's progress and success and making a visible difference. But as a stay-at-home mom it can be difficult to see the progress or the success of your efforts. After all, you're a mother for life and may not truly see the value of your efforts until heaven! These are little eternal souls you're raising, and souls grow slowly and sometimes imperceptibly. There are a million books and websites to tell you all the right ways and it can be overwhelming to feel like you're falling so very short. I'm learning that doubt is normal but to turn to God's grace to fill in my many gaps. They say it takes a village to raise a child, but even moreso, it takes faith and trust and surrender.

There is a lack of support from the secular world. From outright disdain for motherhood (Margaret Sanger, y'all??) to a simple nod for it on Mother's Day, the world isn't exactly the biggest supporter of mothering. Women's rights movements are all about liberating women from the "bondage" of homemaking and child-raising. Women are subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) made to feel that motherhood is a back-burner sort of job, that the purposeful stuff lies in contributions we make to the world in an outside employment or larger movement. But what can be a greater impact to society than creating, raising, and forming new citizens in a stable family and home life? Thankfully, I've been seeing an increase in new feminism movements that support women to be all that God created them to be and to live it out in spiritual or physical motherhood.

So as I open this both exciting and daunting chapter of my life story, I do so knowing that there will be challenges. I will have to continue to fight off the lies of the world as well as the lies whispered within me. But there's incredible beauty in this chapter along with the fears, the doubts, the monotony. There's sanctification and molding of my own heart and soul by a loving Father. And there's watching that same loving Father work with and through me as I mold and raise this gorgeous little girl moment by moment.

What a gift.


[As always, a small disclaimer: mothers aren't the only ones who have a lack of support or affirmation or those who struggle with monotony or doubt or what defines them. My sweet single friends or my married friends struggling with infertility, I see you. God sees you. You are carrying heavy crosses. You are in my heart and in my prayers.]

Meaningful Life and Abortion

A little boy is going to be born soon and I can't wait to hold him. Many months ago, I wondered if he would live to see this side of the womb.

I sat across from his momma visit after visit as she talked about her reasons to have an abortion. Each week, my faith would falter and I wondered if this would be the visit she would cancel, telling us she had had the abortion. But each week she showed up, tearful and undecided, letting us love on her and be a safe place to process her unplanned pregnancy. I'll never forget when she tearfully told me on her third visit that she had decided she was going to "terminate." She felt there was no other option.

But through God's grace, the power of prayer, and lots of love and tangible resources, she's now awaiting the birth of her precious son. Her ultrasound with us was the first ultrasound she had ever seen. The flickering heartbeat that first connects a mother to the life within her.

Last week, I stood on the sidewalk by the abortion clinic for a peaceful prayer vigil and I talked with a fiery pro-choice protester. We discussed our thoughts on abortion, on post-abortive women, on poverty and privilege. I was grateful for the discussion because so often in this deeply emotional topic, we stick closely to our own sides and regard the other as enemy. This young woman and I parted ways in peace, not anger, and even discussed our own motherhood and wished each other well for the weekend.

But there's something she said that's sticking out to me like a thorn. Because I think it's indicative of how so many view abortion today. She said she knew that a life was ended in abortion, but that it wasn't a meaningful life. The 'fetus' as she preferred to call it didn't have a meaningful life. And if the mother was poor, even after being born it would not have a meaningful life.

Is this where we are as a society? We can look at a human life and decide if it has meaning and should or should not live? What if we disagree? What if I think it has meaning and someone else does not? This is so relative. It pains me. The child gets no part in the decision of whether or not its life is meaningful.

So much can happen in nine months, both in a woman's situation and in a woman's heart. Yet I see the pressure in a woman's mind and heart to make a hasty choice when she finds herself in an unexpected pregnancy. The pro-choice protester argued with me that if a woman can't afford to eat, you can't blame her for choosing an abortion and that we should give her that right. I think that's a sad solution to her struggle-- let's give her the right to spend hundreds of dollars for a decision that will likely wound her soul and still leave her poor in both body and spirit. Why do we think this is a solution? Shouldn't we instead be rising up to give her money, resources, love and support instead so that she can choose parenting or adoption? Shouldn't we be feeding both instead of ending one's life and continuing to allow the other to starve?

I recently sent an email out to friends, family, and church members asking for diapers or meals for my sweet client due soon with her baby. I was overwhelmed by the immediate responses of these people, offering meals, money, diapers-- even one woman offering to buy baby food for her six months from now! One friend who leads our mother's group at church wrote and said they had decided to host a baby shower for her. The Body of Christ showed up and I was humbled.

These pro-life people are the ones that the world would have you believe are only 'pro-baby' or 'pro-birth,' that they don't care about the woman but only that she chooses to give birth.

I don't think so.

These are the people who believe that every life has meaning. The woman's life. The baby's life. Even the life of the abortion doctor. From conception to natural death.

And so I keep praying. That abortion will become illegal, but even more that abortion will become unthinkable. That those who are pro-choice will see that the choice of abortion leaves one life ended and another life deeply wounded. That we will cease to see abortion as a solution to a problem, but instead to see it as a symptom of a greater problem. And that more mothers will have the strength within and the help of the community around them to choose life for their children. And that every single one of us will regard every life-- from the smallest to the greatest and including our own-- as having meaning simply because we are created by a loving Father.

My Birth Story: Part I

Four days before little miss made her appearance!

I always thought birth stories were a little odd. Part of me enjoyed them because as a nurse, I found the details interesting. Now having gone through it myself, I eat them up. And usually cry a little with both sentiment and solidarity. So here I am, writing my own birth story of our precious baby G. If you're not into this thing, I'm in no way offended. Scroll, skim, or skip. No worries. But I want to have an account of it to share with her when she's older-- and for myself, because some of the details are fading already and it's such an incredible experience that I don't want to forget (well, some of it I do, haha!).

Without further ado...my birth story.

7:30am: One week before my due date, I woke up to a mildly painful contraction. I had had several Braxton Hicks for the past few weeks but nothing that was actually painful, so this was new and interesting. I laid in bed before my alarm and felt a few more so I figured I would tell P. to leave his phone on during the day at work just in case I needed to call him (though I figured even if this was the real thing, which I doubted since it was a week early, we had a long time ahead of us with a first time labor).

After fifteen minutes or so, I got up to get ready for work (my last day before I began maternity leave) and went to the bathroom. There was blood. For someone who's had a miscarriage it's terrifying to see blood during pregnancy at any time. But after the initial wave of fear, I was also somewhat excited. This must be "bloody show" and I knew that meant labor would most likely happen within a few days. I woke P. up and told him I was going to call the on-call doctor for advice.

They didn't call me back at all. So an hour later, my doctor's office was open and I called them instead. The nurse and I discussed my contractions, which were happening fairly frequently between 8-12 minutes apart. They were still only mildly painful and I even laughed through a few of them because it was so fun and funny to think we might be close to the big event. The nurse scheduled me to come in and see them in a few hours, although she mentioned a few times about me going to the hospital instead. I didn't want to go to the hospital because I was sure it was so early and I wanted to labor at home as long as I could-- and/or not get sent back home.

The nurse called to check in on me in an hour and the contractions were still about the same. She told us to pack our hospital bags just in case and to head there instead if the pace picked up or if I had more bleeding (which I was having a little, but being a nurse I'm a stubborn patient and I wanted to see my OB, not the hospital staff).

P. and I were both giddy with nervousness and excitement as we packed things up-- our bags, some snacks, and a giant blue exercise ball to use as a birthing ball.

11:30am We got to the doctor's office and as we waited the hour to see her (good doctors always have long waits...) my contractions slowed to almost every half hour and very irregular. I was glad we had chosen to see the doctor instead of the hospital.

12:30pm Sweet Dr. M saw me and checked me. I was dilated 1cm and I think 90% effaced. She told me she thought I would most likely have the baby within 24 hours and she recommended we go back home, get something to eat, and take a walk to try to bring the contractions back on.

1:00pm We left the doctor's office and decided to go out to eat at Chik-Fil-A down the street just for fun. I was thrilled. We knew baby was coming yet we had a decent amount of time to prepare. (hahaha, not quite as you'll soon see...) We notified our doula of the situation and she encouraged us to go home and labor as long as I could there and to let her know when I wanted her. We texted our families, including a picture of me smiling through a contraction, compliments of P.

1:30pm Chik-Fil-A is one of our favorite restaurants because of their values, polite staff, and delicious food. Now it has an even more special place in our hearts because of that day. My hubby was both nervous and excited and told the cashiers that "my wife is in active labor" after he gave our order. They were two super sweet young ladies who loved hearing that and gave us our meal for free. The manager later came over to our table and gave us several free coupons for sandwiches, because she said we'd enjoy them in the postpartum period. Finally, a sweet young worker came over and asked if she could pray for us. She prayed a beautiful prayer over us and it brought peace to both me and my husband as we had started to get nervous.

During our meal, my contractions had come back. P. joked that it seemed like every time I took a bite of the pickles on my sandwich I had a contraction. He started timing them and I started noticing they were more painful. I had to bend over in my chair between eating...but still kept a smile on my face because, hey, we were in a public restaurant. haha. After a few contractions, I asked him how frequent they were coming.

He looked at me with an odd look on his face and showed me the contraction-counting app as the reality hit us-- they were coming at 3 MINUTES APART.

We smiled nervously and I said, "I think we better go to the hospital."

To be continued!!

Wisdom for Wednesdays

“She says I shall now have one mouth the more to fill and two feet the more shoe, more disturbed nights, more laborious days, and less leisure or visiting , reading, music, and drawing.

“Well! This is one side of the story, to be sure, but I look at the other. Here is a sweet, fragrant mouth to kiss; here are two more feet to make music with their pattering about my nursery. Here is a soul to train for God; and the body in which it dwells is worth all it will cost, since it is the abode of a kingly tenant.

“I may see less of friends, but I have gained one dearer than them all, to whom, while I minister in Christ’s name, I make a willing sacrifice of what little leisure for my own recreation my other darlings had left me. Yes, my precious baby you are welcome to your mother’s heart, welcome to her time, her strength, her health, her tenderest cares, to her lifelong prayers! O, how rich I am, how truly, how wondrously blest!”

-Stepping Heavenward, by Elizabeth Prentiss, qtd. by Natasha Metzler

Mercy Mondays!



It's the Year of Mercy for the Catholic Church. Oftentimes a pope will declare a special year for the church in order for Catholics to focus on a certain aspect of God or a specific virtue or theme (Year of Faith, Year of Jubilee, Year of Mercy). We are slowing winding down on this past Year of Mercy, but I have to admit I'm only just beginning to really focus on mercy. 

And I have to thank this book for it! Somehow when I thought of the Year of Mercy, I tended to think most about God's mercy in the sense of forgiveness for my sins and encouraging others to come to Him to receive forgiveness as well. While this is true about mercy, it's only the beginning!! 

I had forgotten that mercy is so. much. more. It's not just about forgiving sins or withholding punishment, but rather mercy is about God's overwhelming love for each one of us, the way He reaches down to us and attends to our needs. 

There are two Hebrew words used for mercy in the Bible and their meanings give us a better idea of how to truly receive God's great mercy. The first word is hesed-- "steadfast love." The second word is rachamim-- "tender, compassionate love." These meanings warm my heart when I think of our great God loving us tenderly and steadfastly. I think when we have a better understanding of God's mercy for us-- that powerful yet gentle love-- we are so much better able to share His mercy with others.

Divine Mercy for Moms, by Emily Jaminet and Michele Faehnle, has been such a gift this past month as I adjust to motherhood and begin to contemplate ways I can serve God in this very new and different role. However, the ideas in the book are definitely applicable to any woman in any state of life. My favorite thing about the book is how practical it is! Sometimes I'll read a book and be inspired but not quite be sure how to apply the inspiration to my daily life. This book is chock full of ways to show mercy to those around you. 

As I continue to read the book, I'd love to share some of these inspirations with you, and I'd also love to keep myself accountable to giving and receiving of God's mercy! Thus, I created Mercy Mondays on my blog! I plan to intentionally and purposefully do one act of mercy each week and share it with you as well as what I'm currently reading in the book! I'd love to have you join me and we can learn to experience God's mercy more deeply and share it more generously!

Motherhood doubts...and grace

For as much as I've wanted to be a mom my whole life...for all the times I dreamed of these days...

It's amazing how inept I can feel at this whole mommy role sometimes. How much I can doubt myself and my abilities. The lack of sleep, the postpartum hormones, and just my general lingering perfectionism have all played a part in my questioning if I'm doing this right, if I'm caring for her well, if I'm a good mom.

I didn't expect that.

But I also didn't expect the grace. The grace that has nudged me out of bed every few hours through the night to feed and change our little one. The grace that kept me breastfeeding every couple hours every single day despite the beginner's pain that accompanied it. The grace that makes me want to give all that I have and all that I am for this precious little girl in my arms. Truly I'm learning that this vocation of motherhood is a surrender of self, an offering of your very body to another, just as Christ offered His body for us on the cross..."my body given up for you." (Luke 22:19)

Yesterday at Mass I knelt after communion, singing one of my favorite songs with the worship band-- "Good Good Father" by Chris Tomlin. My husband was holding the baby so I was able to fully enter in to this beautiful song. As the words to the first verse appeared on the screen, I felt God speaking to me in that moment-- speaking to me as not only the mother to my daughter...but also to me as His daughter, His child. 

But I've heard the tender whispers of love in the dead of night
And you tell me that you're pleased
And that I'm never alone 

I started crying. I didn't realize it but I needed to hear that reminder. That when I'm up in the dead of night nursing my daughter and feeling alone...I'm not. I'm not alone. He is whispering of His love. And He's telling me He is pleased. He is pleased with my feeble attempts at motherhood, with my offerings of my flawed self to raise this beautiful gift He's given us. 

He is truly a good, good Father.

And because of that, I have hope that with His grace I can be a good mother.

Tuesday Talk #43: Before Baby Comes!

We're a little over a week from our due date!! It's crazy that baby could be here any day now-- or could wait to show up for a few weeks yet! I'm feeling pretty decent, other than end of pregnancy nausea and fatigue. My hubby and I talk often about how we know life is going to completely change anytime now, yet there's no way to quite prepare for it.

Of course, there are some practical ways to prepare for it. ;) I made this giant to-do list below a few months ago and it's helped me focus on some tangible things that needed (or I wanted) to get done before baby arrives. I'm pretty sure the list won't be completed by next week, but thankfully some of the things on the list aren't necessary. (I mean, I'd love to have my carpets shampooed, but realistically baby won't start crawling on them from day 1!).

I'm in a good place of realizing that everything does not have to be perfect in our home to welcome our precious little one. Instead, I am trying to spend this last week preparing spiritually and mentally for labor and delivery, as well as being ready to give myself fully to this new vocation. I know God's grace will meet me, and His Mother Mary gives such a great example of beautiful, sacrificial motherhood.

If you're a momma (or even if not!), feel free to give me some comment love on your own recommendations for what I should prepare for-- whether it be practical, mental, emotional, or spiritual!

Family Room
Shampoo carpet
Diaper changing cubby
Pack and play or rock and play?
Reorganize TV cubby shelf

Dining Room
Shampoo carpet

Kitchen
Drawer for baby bibs/cups/bottles/etc
Clean out freezer/fridge
Restock freezer (have done a little of this)
Clean out/organize pantry (and restock?)
Make nontoxic cleaners (all purpose)
Freezer meals/meats/muffins/mixes (have done just a few...)

Bathrooms
Baby basket with items in closet (mine or P's)...bathtub, towels, washcloths, shampoo, lotion
New cleaners (toilet scrub, all purpose)

Laundry Room
Baby gate for the Little Dog
Make laundry detergent

Outdoors
Weed
Umbrella for table
White table in shed
Clean hummingbird feeder/fill

Master Bedroom
Pack and play
Organize my closet/maternity clothes

Nursery
Clean out closet
Vacuum
Hang baby clothes/organize closet items
Changing table/space with baskets
Dresser decor
Wall decor
Move bed into office
Raise crib mattress

Basement
Store boxes (packed or unpacked) along wall...decrease storage area to 1/4 of basement
Clear top of spare bed and put older comforter on it

Office
Organize closet for more storage of non-crafting items
Organize prayer space

Misc.
Thank you notes for any baby gifts (still working on it!)
Bathe Little Dog and trim his nails
Novena for doctor/labor/delivery
Date night with P!
Pack hospital bags
Choose Baptism date, menu, and baby gown (two dates narrowed down)
Labor music playlist
Labor Prayer Intention list
Choose a pediatrician
Pre-register for hospital
Make a labor plan/P's cheat sheet (working with our doula on this)

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