Today I ran into an old friend and he asked me, "How's your family?" meaning myself and my husband. There's something about that phrase that always makes me happy - I think it's the recognition that Mr. M and I are already a family - a family that hopes to welcome children, but a family nonetheless! It's such a small phrase, but it means a lot to me.
"The family, in fact, is born of the intimate communion of life and love founded on the marriage between one man and one woman. ... The family unit, in fact, is born from the communion of persons." (The Compendium of the Social Doctrine of the Church, nos. 211, 213)
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Monday, January 14, 2013
"Where's Da Proof?"
My grandfather-in-law is what you would call a“character,” in a good way!
He's full-blooded Italian, born in southern Italy. He grew up in the
countryside, fought in the Italian resistance during World War II, and was
rewarded with the approvals he needed to immigrate to America with his wife and
two children (one of whom would become Mr. M's dad). Grandpa M is now in his
upper 80's, a little wizened old man. He lost his wife last year, just days
before their 65th wedding anniversary. He makes his own wine by the
gallon, including the wine for our wedding! He cures meat in the basement, and
when he was more active he grew the most linear, weed-free garden I've ever
seen. He's a real treasure to our family and I feel blessed to know him.
But sometimes he can be a little...direct. Like when we're all sitting around the lunch table and he looks at me and Mr. M and says very loudly. “Hey! You married now – but where's da proof?” and then gesticulates with one of those Italian gestures that means everything and nothing. “I no see proof,” he concludes, chuckling to himself at his little joke.
Cue a blush and a change of subject. Or a hasty retreat to the restroom if it's just one of those days.
I know Grandpa doesn't mean anything by his comments. He's old, and he says a lot of things that we take with a grain of salt. (Before we got engaged, he would ask us, loudly, “When you marry? You nice guy, she nice girl. What you wait for?” etc.) But his words did get me thinking in an examination-of-conscience sort of way. The idea of having to “prove” you're married by having a baby...hmmm. Well, I have never gone that far, but early on in our marriage, I really wanted to show everyone what good, open-to-life Catholics we were by having a baby right away. I don't fault myself completely for this line of thought. Obviously there's nothing inherently wrong about having a baby right away – and I sincerely wanted to witness to particular people in my life that a baby doesn't ruin your life and that you don't have to be completely “arrived” before adding to your family.
Realizing this has brought me a lot of interior peace. Of course I would still love to be a witness to the world through welcoming many children as gifts and not rejecting them as burdens. But for now, that's not how I'm called to witness. I'm called to witness to the gift of life in a much more hidden way. Through interior acceptance of God's primacy in procreation, and acceptance that children are given, not earned or obtained or bargained for. Through loving my husband for his own sake and not as my ticket to motherhood. Through offering up each and every tear and heartache for other suffering people, and particularly for pregnant women and those thinking of abortion. (A friend of mine says that the devil is particularly outraged when we offer up our suffering for the person or situation that we're suffering from – a neat idea, I think!) The point is that all of this soul-activity is hidden from the world - but it's bright and blazing to the eyes of God! He sees, and He cares. And my peace comes from truly believing that.
But sometimes he can be a little...direct. Like when we're all sitting around the lunch table and he looks at me and Mr. M and says very loudly. “Hey! You married now – but where's da proof?” and then gesticulates with one of those Italian gestures that means everything and nothing. “I no see proof,” he concludes, chuckling to himself at his little joke.
Cue a blush and a change of subject. Or a hasty retreat to the restroom if it's just one of those days.
I know Grandpa doesn't mean anything by his comments. He's old, and he says a lot of things that we take with a grain of salt. (Before we got engaged, he would ask us, loudly, “When you marry? You nice guy, she nice girl. What you wait for?” etc.) But his words did get me thinking in an examination-of-conscience sort of way. The idea of having to “prove” you're married by having a baby...hmmm. Well, I have never gone that far, but early on in our marriage, I really wanted to show everyone what good, open-to-life Catholics we were by having a baby right away. I don't fault myself completely for this line of thought. Obviously there's nothing inherently wrong about having a baby right away – and I sincerely wanted to witness to particular people in my life that a baby doesn't ruin your life and that you don't have to be completely “arrived” before adding to your family.
But I think there was a fair amount of pride in my
desire, too. I had long got the sense that having a large family was the thing
good Catholics do, and I really wanted everyone to think of me as a good
Catholic. I wanted to “prove” my faithfulness and obedience by having a baby
right away. Then no one could doubt that Mr. M and I were completely on board
with the Church's teachings, and eager to welcome new Catholics into the world.
Wow, have I learned a lot! The first six months or so
of trying to get pregnant were hard in large part because I felt like I wasn't
living up to some unstated expectation about “good Catholics” not waiting to
have kids. (Not that this was explicit to me at the time – it's a lot clearer
in retrospect.) I especially dreaded people thinking that we were relying on a
worldly mentality of postponing children for less-than-grave reasons, or,
worse, that we were using contraception. Because, of course, we looked the same
outwardly as a contracepting couple, or a couple who puts off having kids until
they buy their dream house, vacation in Hawaii, become CEO, or whatever.
And I think that's the heart of the distortion right
there: I cared a lot about what other people thought about us, particularly
what they thought about how fast (or slow) we had children. But the reality is
(and it's still something I'm learning), that really doesn't matter. It just
doesn't. God knows that we've been open to life our entire marriage. He
knows we've held nothing back. And that's all that matters. But it's so hidden!
The world doesn't necessarily know that we've been open to life. The world
doesn't see our interior longing and suffering. But God does. He is closer to
me than I am to myself, as the spiritual maxim goes. And so I have nothing
to“prove” to the world, or even to Grandpa =)
Realizing this has brought me a lot of interior peace. Of course I would still love to be a witness to the world through welcoming many children as gifts and not rejecting them as burdens. But for now, that's not how I'm called to witness. I'm called to witness to the gift of life in a much more hidden way. Through interior acceptance of God's primacy in procreation, and acceptance that children are given, not earned or obtained or bargained for. Through loving my husband for his own sake and not as my ticket to motherhood. Through offering up each and every tear and heartache for other suffering people, and particularly for pregnant women and those thinking of abortion. (A friend of mine says that the devil is particularly outraged when we offer up our suffering for the person or situation that we're suffering from – a neat idea, I think!) The point is that all of this soul-activity is hidden from the world - but it's bright and blazing to the eyes of God! He sees, and He cares. And my peace comes from truly believing that.
Friday, January 11, 2013
7 Quick Takes #1
Attempting the 7 Quick Takes for the first time.
1. Fun weekend plans: Mr. M's birthday is coming up, and he requested an art tour at a local museum for his birthday outing. Actually two tours (both free): one on French painting of the 17th & 18th centuries, and one on Italian renassaince (sp?) painting. We both like art but are rather uneducated, so it should be fun!
2. Also, it's supposed to be almost 70 degrees tomorrow! (!!!!) This makes me wish that I had planted a winter garden, although I'm sure that if I did, we'd immediately get a cold snap, i.e. real winter.
3. Also about the weather: my strong prefence is to have winter weather in winter. I love being cozy inside, watching the snow fall, wearing comfy sweaters, etc.
4. I'm eating sweet potato fries for lunch. Cold sweet potato fries, because our floor's microwave was being hogged by someone warming up what seemed like an entire lasagna, and I was too lazy to go to another floor.
5. I'm really proud of me and Mr. M for going to the gym at least once a week, usually two. Our goal is three times a week, so we're working up to it. It feels great to move! And I'm really hoping getting in shape will help our fertility. We're not horribly out of shape but we could stand to lose some weight and trim up. Plus it's just relaxing to run for a while, sweat, do some weights, and have time to think.
6. Speaking of fertility, scheduling an SA for Mr. M has been a real headache. The 1st place, where we had a prescription to, told us very snottily that they don't take our insurance and the test would be $200 (plus a hotel room since it wasn't near us). Also they're a huge IVF place, which made me uncomfortable. The 2nd place, right down the road from us, said that they take our insurance and that you don't need an appointment, but when we called the day we wanted to test, they said that they only do SA's for post-vascectomy patients. Wierd? The 3rd place, which takes our insurance and does SA's for anyone, is not near us, so we're back to getting a hotel room. Sigh. So complicated. And we're kind of stuck on this step before doing any more testing on me. It makes sense to find out what (if anything) is going on with Mr. M, but it's just such a headache.
7. And I'm out of things to say =)
1. Fun weekend plans: Mr. M's birthday is coming up, and he requested an art tour at a local museum for his birthday outing. Actually two tours (both free): one on French painting of the 17th & 18th centuries, and one on Italian renassaince (sp?) painting. We both like art but are rather uneducated, so it should be fun!
2. Also, it's supposed to be almost 70 degrees tomorrow! (!!!!) This makes me wish that I had planted a winter garden, although I'm sure that if I did, we'd immediately get a cold snap, i.e. real winter.
3. Also about the weather: my strong prefence is to have winter weather in winter. I love being cozy inside, watching the snow fall, wearing comfy sweaters, etc.
4. I'm eating sweet potato fries for lunch. Cold sweet potato fries, because our floor's microwave was being hogged by someone warming up what seemed like an entire lasagna, and I was too lazy to go to another floor.
5. I'm really proud of me and Mr. M for going to the gym at least once a week, usually two. Our goal is three times a week, so we're working up to it. It feels great to move! And I'm really hoping getting in shape will help our fertility. We're not horribly out of shape but we could stand to lose some weight and trim up. Plus it's just relaxing to run for a while, sweat, do some weights, and have time to think.
6. Speaking of fertility, scheduling an SA for Mr. M has been a real headache. The 1st place, where we had a prescription to, told us very snottily that they don't take our insurance and the test would be $200 (plus a hotel room since it wasn't near us). Also they're a huge IVF place, which made me uncomfortable. The 2nd place, right down the road from us, said that they take our insurance and that you don't need an appointment, but when we called the day we wanted to test, they said that they only do SA's for post-vascectomy patients. Wierd? The 3rd place, which takes our insurance and does SA's for anyone, is not near us, so we're back to getting a hotel room. Sigh. So complicated. And we're kind of stuck on this step before doing any more testing on me. It makes sense to find out what (if anything) is going on with Mr. M, but it's just such a headache.
7. And I'm out of things to say =)
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
When dreaming is hard
Mr. M and I have been attending a neat monthly program at a retreat center near us. It's geared toward newlyweds and each month there's a different speaker on a newlywed-pertinent topic (in-laws, intimacy, etc.). This month the topic was finances. I have to say that I was a little disappointed in the evening because I was hoping for some nitty-gritty tips on budgets and long-term financial planning, things like that. We did get some of that, but the couple presenter team (who also give talks on openness to life) spent a fair amount of time encouraging us newlyweds that having a big family and having one parent stay home is totally doable. Inside my heart is groaning, "Please don't go there...."
I guess some of the attendees needed to hear that message, judging by some of their comments and questions. And I get that in our culture, not working outside the home is often viewed as ridiculous. And of course "big" families for many people is more than 2 children. I get all that. It's just not the message I needed to hear because it's exactly what I want and don't have. More than anything else in the whole world, I want a big family and I want to be a stay-at-home mom. And I want it now, please! My heart longs for that with an intensity that is painful. And that's exactly what we don't have right now, despite our best efforts. So during a lot of the talk I was engaged in putting my mind elsewhere to not feel the stab of the knife: "Really, being a stay-at-home mom is so fun!" "Kids aren't that expensive. And they're such a blessing!" "Our first child was unexpected - surprise! - but she's a joy every day" etc. etc. (I don't mean to mock the speakers - they really are lovely people. Their points were just not what I needed to hear - and were also not helping me with our family economics!)
Then toward the end, they gave us three questions to discuss with our spouse. The first were fine, kind of bland and basic. But the last one struck a chord. They wanted us to imagine that we're sitting at our dinner table in 10 years: "Look around. What do you see? How many people are there? What kind of house?" etc. etc. I get that this type of mental exercise can help in financial planning, to know how much you want to save/invest/spend to achieve your dream. But man! I could not take it. Because I'm so scared that I'll be at that table in 10 years, look around, and it's still just me and Mr. M. (And maybe a dog?) I love Mr. M with all my heart and then some - but I'd like some little Ms to be there too! I just could not do this 10-year dream thing without feeling the sting of tears in my eyes and feeling fear that my dearest, most precious dream of motherhood won't come true. That in 10 years I'll still be as barren as I am now.
I even raised my hand and said: "Can you be more specific? Because a lot of things are beyond our control, and you can't just plan for them." I hope I wasn't too strident; maybe none of the other newlyweds is in my shoes at all. But the whole dream exercise struck me as overly presumptuous, as if we can plan for every contingency, down to how many children we want around our table.
So I guess something I want to ponder is: is this a bad thing that my heart is not open to dreaming long-term? And what do I do with my dearest dreams? Right now I'm mentally hiding them away behind a locked door because they're too beautiful and too painful to contemplate. Am I lacking hope? That's concerning. Jesus, please give me more hope. Hope that I'll sit at my table in 10 years and be a holier, happier woman, despite everything and anything.
+EcceFiat+
I guess some of the attendees needed to hear that message, judging by some of their comments and questions. And I get that in our culture, not working outside the home is often viewed as ridiculous. And of course "big" families for many people is more than 2 children. I get all that. It's just not the message I needed to hear because it's exactly what I want and don't have. More than anything else in the whole world, I want a big family and I want to be a stay-at-home mom. And I want it now, please! My heart longs for that with an intensity that is painful. And that's exactly what we don't have right now, despite our best efforts. So during a lot of the talk I was engaged in putting my mind elsewhere to not feel the stab of the knife: "Really, being a stay-at-home mom is so fun!" "Kids aren't that expensive. And they're such a blessing!" "Our first child was unexpected - surprise! - but she's a joy every day" etc. etc. (I don't mean to mock the speakers - they really are lovely people. Their points were just not what I needed to hear - and were also not helping me with our family economics!)
Then toward the end, they gave us three questions to discuss with our spouse. The first were fine, kind of bland and basic. But the last one struck a chord. They wanted us to imagine that we're sitting at our dinner table in 10 years: "Look around. What do you see? How many people are there? What kind of house?" etc. etc. I get that this type of mental exercise can help in financial planning, to know how much you want to save/invest/spend to achieve your dream. But man! I could not take it. Because I'm so scared that I'll be at that table in 10 years, look around, and it's still just me and Mr. M. (And maybe a dog?) I love Mr. M with all my heart and then some - but I'd like some little Ms to be there too! I just could not do this 10-year dream thing without feeling the sting of tears in my eyes and feeling fear that my dearest, most precious dream of motherhood won't come true. That in 10 years I'll still be as barren as I am now.
I even raised my hand and said: "Can you be more specific? Because a lot of things are beyond our control, and you can't just plan for them." I hope I wasn't too strident; maybe none of the other newlyweds is in my shoes at all. But the whole dream exercise struck me as overly presumptuous, as if we can plan for every contingency, down to how many children we want around our table.
So I guess something I want to ponder is: is this a bad thing that my heart is not open to dreaming long-term? And what do I do with my dearest dreams? Right now I'm mentally hiding them away behind a locked door because they're too beautiful and too painful to contemplate. Am I lacking hope? That's concerning. Jesus, please give me more hope. Hope that I'll sit at my table in 10 years and be a holier, happier woman, despite everything and anything.
+EcceFiat+
Monday, January 7, 2013
Pregnancy announcements
At my last count, at least 20 friends or family members have gotten pregnant in the same time frame that we've been trying to get pregnant. That's not including coworkers or people I see at mass but don't know personally. I have had such an interior struggle with each and every one of these announcements. It's like a battle warring within me: on the one hand, I'm thrilled for the bearer of good news (and a new baby!) and so happy that another little soul has come into the world...on the other hand, I can't help but feel a stab of sadness that it's not me making the announcement. (Will it ever be me?) Even writing that, I cringe at how selfish it sounds. Hello - someone else's pregnancy is not about me.
But still, it's hard to tell my broken heart to take a back seat. Emotions are so tricky! Mine especially feel out of control lately. I want to be happy for and with newly pregnant women. I really do. And there was a time before our fertility struggles that feeling happy for a pregnancy came naturally. For example, it shocked me a little this morning to think back to a particular announcement about two years ago, before I was married. I knew they had been wanting to be parents for a while, and the joy I felt at hearing their good news was pure and undiluted. I rejoiced with them, wanted to hear all about how they found out, and wanted to dream with them about their new baby whose face they would see in nine months.
Flash-forward to yesterday: I feel terrible about this, but upon hearing the same good news from the same couple, it was all I could do to think of the right words to say and smile convincingly despite the sudden ringing in my ears, constriction of my heart, and strong desire to run away, run away! I asked the right questions (I hope) but my heart wasn't in it at all. Honestly, I feel embarrased at myself. I'm trying to give myself some slack - sometimes I think of myself as one of the "walking wounded," which doesn't seem that far from the mark - but I feel guilty for not being able to whole-heartedly rejoice in my friends' announcement without a "Why not me?" reverberating in my aching heart.
Sigh. I hope that if we ever get to the "other side" of this painful journey, I'll be back to my earlier joyful self. I hope my heart isn't becoming shriveled from the constant strain of longing. (I also hope I'll never forget the pain of infertility - it struck me that maybe someday the tables could be reversed, and I'd be the one making the painful-to-someone-else announcement.) And most of all, I hope I'm not becoming a selfish person, an "incurvatus in se" - twisted in on myself kind of person. As my husband often reminds me, you don't need a child to become a saint!
+EcceFiat+
But still, it's hard to tell my broken heart to take a back seat. Emotions are so tricky! Mine especially feel out of control lately. I want to be happy for and with newly pregnant women. I really do. And there was a time before our fertility struggles that feeling happy for a pregnancy came naturally. For example, it shocked me a little this morning to think back to a particular announcement about two years ago, before I was married. I knew they had been wanting to be parents for a while, and the joy I felt at hearing their good news was pure and undiluted. I rejoiced with them, wanted to hear all about how they found out, and wanted to dream with them about their new baby whose face they would see in nine months.
Flash-forward to yesterday: I feel terrible about this, but upon hearing the same good news from the same couple, it was all I could do to think of the right words to say and smile convincingly despite the sudden ringing in my ears, constriction of my heart, and strong desire to run away, run away! I asked the right questions (I hope) but my heart wasn't in it at all. Honestly, I feel embarrased at myself. I'm trying to give myself some slack - sometimes I think of myself as one of the "walking wounded," which doesn't seem that far from the mark - but I feel guilty for not being able to whole-heartedly rejoice in my friends' announcement without a "Why not me?" reverberating in my aching heart.
Sigh. I hope that if we ever get to the "other side" of this painful journey, I'll be back to my earlier joyful self. I hope my heart isn't becoming shriveled from the constant strain of longing. (I also hope I'll never forget the pain of infertility - it struck me that maybe someday the tables could be reversed, and I'd be the one making the painful-to-someone-else announcement.) And most of all, I hope I'm not becoming a selfish person, an "incurvatus in se" - twisted in on myself kind of person. As my husband often reminds me, you don't need a child to become a saint!
Friday, November 9, 2012
Wishing for someone else's cross
Right now I have a rather strong love-hate relationship with "mommy blogs." You know the kind: written by a woman, usually a stay-at-home-mom, featuring the endearing, difficult, and intolerable aspects of raising children. Depending on my mood and vulnerability that day, I'm either uplifted by cute tales and adorable pictures, or strongly, strongly tempted to despair and jealousy. Can I start a club of mommy blogger wannabes? Because I so want to be part of the mommy blog club!
About the title: it's really easy for me to read a blog post about someone experiencing post-partum depression, or facing a high-risk pregnancy, and actually feel jealous of them! It can't be that bad, I reason, because at least they have children/are pregnant. At least they have that consolation, that reason to suffer. Which on the one hand is true, I guess. Suffering for someone, especially for one's child, has to be easier than just plain suffering.
But on the other hand, I know this reaction is so wrong! Everyone has their own cross. It sounds trite, but it's true. Mine right now is subfertility. And it's a heavy cross, one I wish I didn't have to carry. But post-partum depression is a pretty heavy cross, too. Nothing to be jealous about, that's for sure! It's hard work to make sure that my desire for motherhood doesn't disorder my reactions to crosses that mothers bear.
+Ecce Fiat+
About the title: it's really easy for me to read a blog post about someone experiencing post-partum depression, or facing a high-risk pregnancy, and actually feel jealous of them! It can't be that bad, I reason, because at least they have children/are pregnant. At least they have that consolation, that reason to suffer. Which on the one hand is true, I guess. Suffering for someone, especially for one's child, has to be easier than just plain suffering.
But on the other hand, I know this reaction is so wrong! Everyone has their own cross. It sounds trite, but it's true. Mine right now is subfertility. And it's a heavy cross, one I wish I didn't have to carry. But post-partum depression is a pretty heavy cross, too. Nothing to be jealous about, that's for sure! It's hard work to make sure that my desire for motherhood doesn't disorder my reactions to crosses that mothers bear.
+Ecce Fiat+
Monday, November 5, 2012
Cycle Day 1 is...
...trying to hold back tears
...disappointment
...bracing myself for oh-so-fun cramps
...giving up for good the hopes of this particular month: announcing a pregnancy at Thanksgiving, being pregnant for my 28th birthday, telling dh's grandparents (who are nearing the end of their lives) that another great-grandchild is on the way
...trust and abandonment. Lord, you know what you're doing, right?
...offering up again all of my hopes for motherhood; feeling very keenly my lack: lack of a child in my womb, lack of a child in my arms, lack of a chubby little hand in mind
...reminding myself that this is only the first month of trying post-hysteroscopy
...trying not to think of how many cycle day one's I've been through already and how many more might be to come
...avoiding my visibly pregnant coworker (I know, horrible. I'm not that close to her anyway.)
...opening that bottle of wine I was holding off on "just in case"!
...trying not to feel dehabilitatingly sorry for myself
...remembering all the other women who are going through all of the above and more. You are in my prayers every day!
...clinging to the Promise: not of a child necessarily, but of abundant life, of Jesus' presence
...blegh =(
+EcceFiat+
...disappointment
...bracing myself for oh-so-fun cramps
...giving up for good the hopes of this particular month: announcing a pregnancy at Thanksgiving, being pregnant for my 28th birthday, telling dh's grandparents (who are nearing the end of their lives) that another great-grandchild is on the way
...trust and abandonment. Lord, you know what you're doing, right?
...offering up again all of my hopes for motherhood; feeling very keenly my lack: lack of a child in my womb, lack of a child in my arms, lack of a chubby little hand in mind
...reminding myself that this is only the first month of trying post-hysteroscopy
...trying not to think of how many cycle day one's I've been through already and how many more might be to come
...avoiding my visibly pregnant coworker (I know, horrible. I'm not that close to her anyway.)
...opening that bottle of wine I was holding off on "just in case"!
...trying not to feel dehabilitatingly sorry for myself
...remembering all the other women who are going through all of the above and more. You are in my prayers every day!
...clinging to the Promise: not of a child necessarily, but of abundant life, of Jesus' presence
...blegh =(
+EcceFiat+
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