Happy Birthday to Jack!

My sweet boy has turned into a young man right before my eyes. Long gone are the days of mispronouncing words and scootching across the floor...despite the fact that it feels like yesterday to me. We wanted a baby so badly. Twelve years later, I am amazed every time Jack comes down the stairs in the morning. He has surpassed me in shoe size by two sizes. He is an inch taller...and growing. His voice is changing and so is his attitude! I have so much I still want to teach him before he goes out on his own. He is kind,intelligent, FUNNY, and contemplative. He is passive, can be lazy (don't know where he gets that from!), and has his head in the clouds. Perfect don't you think?
I am blessed to be his mother. I have had to change the way I parent him these past few months. It is a very hard transition for me. I feel like I have given him good roots (for the most part) and now it's time to let him flap his wings a bit. It is hard because I still want to hold him close. It is hard letting him grow up. If I don't, he will not have the skills he needs to fly out on his own.
Happy Birthday to my young man!

Last Monday I went to see Dr. A. He was very thourough in his explanation of what was to happen during the surgery and most importantly, he let me do alot of talking. He mentioned that he had personally spoken with my regular OB. He also mentioned that after having 5 boys, he and his wife adopted from China. Red Thread and a confirmation from God I think. I was surprised how calm I was. I almost felt like I was in business mode and would deal with any feelings on what was about to happen later. Tuesday morning came and I went into labor right as we were leaving for the hospital. I was whisked off to the Pre-op area where the nurses started an IV right away and gave me some pretty good drugs so that the pain was mostly gone and another drug so that I didn't care. The dr. said he barely had to do anything because the baby was right there (no D&C). I go to see him for a follow up visit later next week.
When the dr. came out to inform Matt how the surgery went, Matt asked if the doctor could tell what sex the baby was. I already knew...a little boy. We have decided to name him Stephen after the first martyr of the Church. The baby's remains will be sent to a cemetary not too far away.
I have recovered better than I thought I would physically. Emotionally I feel like I am doing better on the whole...but not so good during certain periods. I have my moments and the sadness can be incredibly profound. I have not experienced anything like it so far. I go from just sadness at the loss of what might have been to actually wanting this baby back so bad it hurts. I feel like I am missing a part of myself. My body is starting to return to its regular shape just as I was starting to feel beautiful (which is why I thought it must be a boy). My milk came in and that bothered me alot. I had to force myself to focus on the positive part of it...that my body realized I was no longer pregnant. I have been trying to keep myself busy (which is easy to do with four kids). I try not to let my mind wander too much into that dark area. My boy is in Heaven with his Father. I try to rejoice for him and I pray to him that he watches over our family. We miss him.
That's where most of the pain comes from...missing him. In my selfishness in wanting him here, I wallow in that sorrow. It is part of the normal grieving process I am told. I just never wanted this to be part of my "normal". I accept that these things happen. All of our children are on loan for they never truly belong to us. We are powerless to stop these things from happening. But I cannot ignore the ache in my arms that long to hold that child. I cannot ignore the hollowness in my heart for that sweet baby boy. I cannot pretend that I am all better. However, there are things I do know...that I cannot get through all of this without the grace of God. I cannot begin to sift through my feelings without pleading to Him daily for healing and acceptance. I cannot function without the small ways He shows me He is near. It is faith that will get me through.

Grief

It has been well over a month since my last post. I don't even know where to begin. FIL is doing well with his liver transplant despite a few setbacks. I also satisfied some nursing callings with being in charge of hooking him up to his IV.

Another happening is going to be difficult to write about but important to document. We lost our precious baby. I went in for a routine 16 week check up. Dr.C couldn't find the heartbeat. I wasn't overly concerned until the Ultra sound scan showed no movement. It wasn't a great picture but it didn't take long to know why we weren't hearing it on the doppler. I had Han and Em with me (so they could hear the heartbeat). I just felt so numb. I felt like things were very unreal. Dr. sent me over to the hospital where they could get a better picture. I wanted so bad for the dr. to be wrong. I still had a glimmer of hope. The dr. explained that because I was 16 weeks along that it would be a delivery but they would keep me as comfortable as possible. That part didn't compute right away.
Matt came to pick me up from the dr.'s and we drove off to the hospital. We walked in the room and I laid down on the table. Across the room was a huge monitor where you could see what the technician was scanning. An ultrasound picture came up immediately of the profile of our baby. It was perfectly identifiable. I could see the spine, the hands with little fingers. I could see the skull and the shape of the cheeks. I could see the baby's knees drawn up to itself in true fetal position. I could also see that where a beating heart should be pounding away, there was nothing.
The technician asked if I wanted to monitor turned off. I said no. After all, this would be the only glimpse of my baby that I will ever get. I just kept looking and staring. So peaceful curled up in there. It gave me great comfort to see my baby and know for sure that he/she didn't make it. It is strange to feel that but it left no doubt that my baby was gone. Dr. M came in and explained that the baby was only 13.5 weeks along. He said it could be a genetic thing (which is why most miscarriages occur). He also pointed out some spots of blood near the placenta. Despite the fact that I have not spotted or bled, it could have been the cause. I don't know if we will ever have an answer for that. They were very compassionate there and I am thankful that I had medical staff who had the utmost respect for my feelings. They gave us a moment to gather ourselves together.
My regular OB called and explained why I had to go to someone else. It is risky with bleeding and I also have a bicornuate uterus. My regular OB was wonderfully compassionate. He told me to grieve and mourn the loss of my child. He was such a comfort to me.
The grief of this loss has hit me in waves. It comes at unexpected moments. One minute I will busy myself with something. The next, I am walking through the house and suddenly burst into tears. The pain of this is physical and can be suffocating at times. It literally hurts in my heart and it bends me in half. I have been through some rough times in my life and I know how emotional pain feels. But, this is the first time I have felt grief on this level... I have lost my baby. I know that these things happen. I am not wallowing in self pity. I do not ask myself, "why me?". I understand it is nothing I did or didn't do. I do not think it to be unfair. I do not feel like I am being punished. I am just simply in mourning. My arms ache for this baby that I will never hold. I feel completely blessed to have been this child's mommy for 13.5 short weeks. I have loved this child from the moment I knew he/she existed. As a christian woman, I accept God's plan in all of this even if it is not my plan. I also know that through suffering comes great grace. I have already felt this grace in knowing just how much I am capable of loving another human being. I am that much closer to understanding how precious life is. That these little ones really are just on loan. I have known that with Hannah(and almost losing her with asthma) but I fully realize it with the loss of this little one.
I have been blessed also with a wonderful system of support. My husband has stood right next to me and has held me up even as he deals with his own grief. My sister has known what to distract me with. My friend, who has suffered this grief several times, has been a wonderful comfort to me. She has known exactly what to say and when to say it. All of the family members that have heard have expressed grief. So this baby was truly loved by all. I take comfort in knowing that all who knew about this baby have been touched by him/her.

Anniversary and a case of cramping....

Yesterday was a little crazy around here. I was up at night with this painful cramp in the middle of my lower abdomen. I didn't get worried until I couldn't find a comfortable position to lay in to escape some of the pain. Being that it was the middle of the night, I contemplated driving myself to the ER just to see what was going on. I really feared a miscarriage. I had never experienced that before. I waited until morning and the pain was a little better (at least when I laid a certain way). I called the dr. first thing. Matt drove the kids to school and came back to take me to my appt.
I turned to him at one point and said that I was glad he was home for our 15th anniversary but this isn't what I had in mind. We arrived at the dr. on time. As I told the nurse my symptoms, she got that hushed tone that people get who know that this may not have a good outcome. That's when the anxiety really set in. As soon as the dr. came in, the flood gate opened. He asked why I was crying. Um, hello, I am pregnant, do I need a reason to begin with?? Everything checked out alright though. The best part of all...we got to hear the baby's heartbeat. What an awesome anniversary gift. Matt and I truly have been blessed.

The Power of Prayer.

As I mentioned last post, there have been many God things that we have been blessed to be witness to. My FIL received his transplant. The next day, Olivia received her first communion. It was a beautiful day. One of those days that you don't need a picture to remember some of the images your mind has captured. One image is Matt praying over her before heading off to Mass.
During the Mass, each child went up to receive Jesus for the first time. The parents got to walk behind them. The child kneeled and we watched our child receive Christ. Olivia was one of the last ones to go. I stepped out of the pew and followed this beautiful (and I mean beautiful!) child towards the front of the Church. I watched the concentration on Liv's face. I don't think she smiled once due to being so "in the zone". Liv is all business when it is a serious moment. I watched as she knelt down and Father bent to pray over her before giving her the Host. I looked beyond Father and watched Jack, who was serving Mass, witness this from a better angle. And I bawled. I couldn't help it. I don't think there is anything more precious than to watch someone take Jesus for the first time...especially when it's your child.
During this Mass, we offered it up for my FIL's healing. We had received news that he was heading back to surgery due to a small leak in a major blood vessel. We lit a candle in front of St. Joseph's altar for his healing. What we didn't know at the time is that he told my MIL he knew he was dying. The tear was repaired. He came thru that surgery just fine. Praise God and the power of prayer. I truly believe that praying at that moment helped him through that time. I don't need proof, it's just something I know in my heart.
One more God moment: FIL is on medication that can cause hallucinations. He called and explained that he had these horrible nightmares...ones that he thought were real. I won't go into detail with what some of these nightmares were about. He was afraid to go back to sleep. So he stayed awake. Matt and Jack visited him in the hospital later that day. They brought him a picture of St. Michael (Jack had purchased at a local shrine to St. Joseph), a small crucifix, and a prayer card of Jesus. He has not had nightmares since. My MIL has kept the picture and is now saying the Prayer to St. Michael. The power of Prayer.

Time goes by so quickly...and the NEWS just keeps piling up.

It has been forever since my last blog. Much has happened here. Many life changing events and as always, God events.

On April 27th (there is significance to this date) I found out that we will be expecting our fifth child. Hannah's birthday is this day. Being that she too was a shock full o' blessing, it is very appropriate that I found out on that date.
At first I just kept praising God that He is so merciful to us in blessing us with another child. Then the reality of this news set in (I really need to trust in God and not listen to all of the junk in my head). I wasn't sure how Matt would react. I knew it wouldn't be anger or anything obnoxious but I wasn't sure it would be positive. Despite my own shock, I didn't feel like I could handle anyone else's. He was shocked but supportive. What else could he be? I don't think it is fair that he isn't allowed to express his real feelings on it for fear of offending me. But, I am not a big believer in life is fair anyways. He is a good man that husband of mine.

On May 8th, my FIL was called suddenly, unexpectedly, surprisingly etc...to go to the hospital to receive his new liver. When my MIL called, I was laying on the couch feeling crummy due to morning sickness (even though it was almost 10 pm). I heard Matt answer the phone and after a few sentences, I knew who was on the other end and what they were saying. An electric current went through my body. I can't describe it any other way. Very unexpected but what a blessing...this is my new motto.
FIL has come thru the surgery very well. He has had a few set backs. He is currently back in the hospital for various issues related to his transplant. He should be back home in a few days though. It has been a strain on my MIL. She has been doing very well despite it.
Next post I will talk about some God things. I have prayed more this month than any other time in my life. The only other time I remember praying with such vigor is when my brother was in Iraq. I find it ironic that I will pray for others with such fervor but when it comes to myself, I just kind of wing it. I will have to work on that.

St. Michael

I had a very interesting conversation with my sister. It was a conversation about those who have faith and those who reject it. In this conversation, she revealed that she had a personal encounter with a friend who not only rejects religion of any form, but also rejects God. When my sister was sharing her story, at first I just felt a profound sadness for her non believing friend. As the story went on, I at one point stopped my sister and told her she should rejoice that she was being tested. However, as my sister went on with her story I quickly came to understand why she was so affected by it. What started out as a simple exchange between the two, somehow turned into something that was disturbing. In this conversation my sister came to see first hand the hatred of our Lord. Don't get me wrong, I am not so naive that I don't think there are those who don't. But, When my sister revealed to me the contents of her encounter with someone who I think is beyond atheist I was in such shock. This person was just downright hateful. I had never heard before the spewing of such malice towards another human being simply because they spoke of God.
It made me realize that we are in battle.

St. Michael the archangel, defend us in battle. Be our defense against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him we humbly pray. And do thou O' Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God , cast into Hell, Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.
Amen.

Kids say the darndest things...

This post will be a work in progress. I am just thinking back on a few things that our kids have said over the years that were totally unique to our family. You know, the names they give things that a person outside of our circle of friends/family would have no clue as to what the kids were talking about.

Some examples are:
Emma has a care bear spoon. It has been washed so many times that all you can really see on it are some clouds that were once part of the picture. She has named it her "Michigan" spoon. I don't know why. I have no idea where the name evolved from. But everyone who has made themselves at home here knows that when Em asks for her Michigan spoon, it is the faded one in the drawer.


Jack eats a silly sandwich. A silly sandwich is something he invented at about three years old. It is a piece of bread, a slice of bologna and a dill pickle. He then curls the bread and bologna around the pickle (kind of like a make shift hot dog) and eats it. Ouila! Silly sandwich.

Olivia had her Num nee. This was her pacifier. She also called Noodles, NOONIES. This name stuck even to today. What's even funnier is that all of our neices and nephews now call them noonies. She used to call Hannah "Honey" and Jack "Guy". She would never say her own name. She was simply "Me".

Hannah spoke complete sentences at 15 months old so I cannot recall too much that she came up with. I will have to repost as I search the baby books.

I also find it funny that all of my kids have said "Callapitter" instead of caterpillar and aminal instead of animal.

Another treat in our house is orange juice mixed with 7UP or Sprite. I had a 2 liter of 7UP about to go flat and a little bit of OJ left so I mixed the two to make enough for everyone. They asked what the drink was called. So I said, "Juicy Spritz". Somehow that morphed into Itsy Spritz. I can only guess that it was because we were singing the Itsy Bitsy Spider song and it just kind of garbled all together. But years later, it has stuck...even with my 11 year old who will sometimes ask if we have 7UP to mix with his OJ and can he make an itsy spritz.

This next one probably could use it's own post because it's a bit long. But it has alot to do with mispronouncing words. On Thanksgiving of this year, Matt took his grandma home after dinner. I had eaten too much (who does that on Thanksgiving right?) and laid on the couch. We have Netflix so we had the instant movie going. I picked PeeWee's Big adventure. Well, there's the part where Pee Wee is in the truck with Large Marge. Those who have seen the movie know where I am going with this. Well, when Large Marge shows her "true colors" all four kids jumped on me screaming. The kids were traumatized but I never laughed so hard in my life. I had forgotten about that part but I will never forget it now. Anyways, Emma started talking about the movie (which ended with that part by the way) and called it "Peege Weege". I think she blended PeeWee and Large Marge.

I will update this post as more come to mind.
Other words the kids said:
My ties unshoed (my shoe is untied)
Scoof it (excuse me)
Meenas (bananas)
Mow lawner (lawn mower)
Poders (spiders)
Weeva (Olivia)

Jesus take the wheel...

I recently had a situation arise where I wanted to handle a family matter one way, and it turned out that the Lord steered me in another direction. I had an issue on my mind so I thought I would write a letter about it to vent it out. This letter was about certain issues going on in our extended family. We (Matt and I) felt the issues needed to be addressed.
The feelings put in that letter weren't uncharitable. In fact, I felt quite justified in what these feelings were. These were addressing issues that really needed to be brought up. Being that we all live far apart a letter seemed an appropriate forum to use.
It never ceases to amaze me that once you give your life over to God how he will steer you. (and it is a constant discipline that I am not always good at. It's kind of like air breaking from the passenger seat...instead of just trusting that the driver has things under control, you think you can take over by pumping the imaginary break).
So, I started writing the letter and it morphed into this totally different entity that I had no intention of it being. Many of my letters never get sent. They are for therapeutic purposes only. But this new letter was sent with Matt's approval for it had been on his heart too. I had no feedback to see how it was received. That is until a few days ago. Then the Lord let me see the fruits of my letting Him "drive" from a source that was unexpected. There were several recipients of this letter. The feedback was not only positive, it was full of thanksgiving to the point where I was a bit uncomfortable in saying, "your welcome". This source of thanksgiving isn't one to dole out compliments on a regular basis, let alone on a subject as serious as this one. I have to say that I was taken by surprise at the gratitude (I think falling off the seat was a better description). I felt guilt at not explaining myself to this source about the process of this letter and taking all of the kudos for it. I handled it the way I usually do...talking incessantly until the person starts to glaze over. Lots of hand motions and lots of going on and on about the same thing I just said in the letter. I think it's a coping mechanism...I don't know.
Maybe my goal for this week should be to repeat over and over....I must decrease so that He may increase.

I am way too saddened by this campaign to even comment on it. I think in this post I will just let the picture speak a thousand words.


Pax

Dr. Gupta and Bill Clinton

So, did anyone happen to catch the interview last night with Dr. S. Gupta and former Pres. Clinton? I for one did not. I read about it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZ-W6dvIqmU

Seriously, what on earth came out of his mouth and why on earth didn't Dr. Gupta say anything??? It is beyond me. Could someone pick my jaw up off the floor please? If you didn't happen to see it and don't have time to see what the buzz is all about, it is the former President (that's right of the USA) stating his opinion of embryonic stem cell research. He basically says that the embryos being used haven't been fertilized yet. Huh? As if we start out as chickens? Did I miss something in science class?

I think I am too stunned to rant here.




You can also read the transcript on CNN's Larry King Live here:
http://transcripts.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/0903/11/lkl.01.html

I spoke in an earlier post about having a missionary's heart. I even went so far as to inquiring about a mission trip our whole family could go on. After much discernment, I accepted that traveling outside of the country...presently...is not in the best interest for every family member. It is something that may be in our future, but not right now. So what is a person to do when they have this yearning in their heart yet have this very wonderful vocation (motherhood and married life) that they are dedicated to? You pray. I have to say that when I received an answer to my prayer about traveling to another country and that answer was a solid NO, I wasn't the happiest camper. Why would God give me this yearning but not show me the path in which to fulfill it? I kind of had an attitude just like a bratty teenager would: "Fine, then you figure out what to do with this thing you gave me! I give up! I have researched and even found a group that encourages whole families and You say no? I don't get it."
It's a good thing our Lord is merciful with attitudes such as mine. This answer to this prayer of mine came less than a year ago. It has taken me almost a year to finally get what it is that the Lord had in mind for this gift he gave me of a missionary's heart. To take you on the journey to that point, let me give some background on the story so as it unfolds, there is more understanding.
My FIL has Hepatitis C. It is something that he has lived with for about 20 years. He received tainted blood years back when the testing for Hep C may not have been what it was today (I don't think they even recognized Hep C yet but I am not sure). So after donating one day about a decade ago, he received the news that his blood had been rejected due to the virus being present in his blood. For the first few years after diagnosis, he remained, for the most part, symptom free. They tried a few treatments and some of it helped and others he did not tolerate well. The thing with this particular virus is that it is almost like a tug of war on the liver. The virus attacks the liver (the liver filters the crap from your blood as one of it's functions) and the liver being an amazing organ, will regenerate itself. In recent years, the virus has been winning a slow and steady race. The past nine months have been the most significant in watching his health decline. He has been very brave in this battle and accepts it with a kind of peace that can sometimes be frustrating. He is currently on the liver transplant list. He has some good days, but most are spent in some sort of pain...all days are spent with fatigue.
It is during these past few months that we have really been talking about God with him. He was raised catholic. He attended catholic school. He has gone to Mass a few times since I entered into the family but mostly for baptisms, first communions or Christmas. He does not take communion nor does he pray in the sense that is obvious to others around him. Since Christmas, he has been coming to Mass more frequently. We had a family gathering at our house over the Christmas holiday. His brother and his niece came with their families and Brother D (remember him?) and his family came. I leaned over to ask Brother D to give the blessing. Brother D gives the most awesome prayers during mealtimes. No sooner had I asked when my FIL interjected quickly that he would like to say the blessing. I know my face did not hide my shock that he wanted to say grace. As I said earlier, he has never shown outward signs of praying. My FIL's prayer was not one of the most eloquent prayers I have ever heard. It wasn't filled with quotes from scripture. It wasn't the kind of prayer that flowed like poetry. But it was the most amazing prayer I have ever heard because it was given by someone who just let us have a look inside. For that moment, he was completely vulnerable. It was an emotional prayer. It was a prayer of thanksgiving. It was a prayer of acknowledgement of why we all were there together in the first place. Needless to say, aside from the children, there was not a dry eye in the room and you could have heard a pin drop when he said Amen.
A month or so passed and Brother D called Matt up with the suggestion that we pray over FIL. Matt was all for this but told Brother D to call before they came (they live a few hours away) to make sure it would be well received by FIL. Unfortunately, FIL was not open to the laying on of hands healing prayer idea. Thanks but no thanks. I am not sure why this request was rejected. Perhaps we were all moving a bit too fast for him? Or maybe we just caught him off guard? My MIL was not thrilled with his rejection. She has been trying to get him to talk about God. Trying to speak to him about what his thoughts are on what happens to us when we die. Death is a reality for all of us as none of us are guaranteed a tomorrow...but death is something tangible in FIL's life due to his disease.
Matt and I decided that if he didn't want us to pray over him, then maybe we could just storm heaven's gates with petitions of our own. We did a novena to St. Jude with our four children. I truly believe that God especially hears the prayers of His little ones. They continue to pray for him every night... "Pwease watch over Papa and his wiver". In the meantime, FIL has been coming to Mass every now and then with us...the days he does not come it is due to not feeling well. A few weeks ago I was in a sound sleep. In the middle of the night I sat straight up in bed as the revelation came to me. What needed to be done was the work of a missionary! I was doing missionary work, only I didn't see it. I woke Matt up, who was also in a sound sleep, trying to explain to him what I just realized. I think he appreciated the story much better later that morning...after coffee. This missionary work is not the picure I had in my head. It' s not even remotely close to what I thought would be required of me. This is simply being an instrument. Sometimes that instrument needs to play loudly. Sometimes it needs to play softly. Sometimes it needs to sit in the corner and play nothing at all. Sometimes it needs to be tuned (this is done thru prayer so that I hear what it is that I am supposed to do and leave my own desires to shove religion down his throat aside). It is humbling to know that you are doing the very thing God sent you out to do....I was just so blinded by my vision of what a missionary was that I couldn't see it right in front of me.

A blessing in a simple phone call.

You ever have those moments in life where you keep dwelling on something someone said? You just can't let it go no matter how much you tell your brain to get rid of it? Today was one of those days plus a few other matters that just made my heart kind of heavy.
I have tried to get a hold of a friend to talk to her about one of these matters that she holds more expertise in. I wasn't able to until today. I walked away from the conversation feeling totally blessed and my shoulders are feeling less of the yoke. We didn't talk just about the subject matter I intended to. Our conversation naturally shifted onto other matters. She didn't say anything specific or have any problem solving tips. She just listened. Not only did she listen, she shared her experiences. It was a give and take conversation that was perfectly balanced. It was the first time in a long time I have layed myself open to be vulnerable. To give someone a glimpse inside of my life and not worry about what they would think of it. Nor was it a conversation where I don't ask a question where I know I am not going to like the answer. It is perhaps one of the most profound conversations I have had in recent times. So thank you friend, if I ever get the gumption up to share this blog with anyone.
I am always amazed at the timing of God's plan. I don't think for one moment that it was coincidental that I couldn't get a hold of her last night. God knew that I would need to hear her voice more today than I did last night. He knew exactly the medicine I would need...and that it would come in at the receiving end of a phone call.

Prayers for a special intention...

Do not want to give details on what the special intention is just yet (if at all). I received some heart breaking news about a distant family member. Prayers for full recovery and healing of spirit and mind.


Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art though among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.
Amen.

Hospital!

Something about that word sends all children into a panic. Hannah's pneumonia just was not getting any better and then she spiked a fever. We took her into the dr.'s office. Hannah had lost 3 pounds in a week! The dr. said that the best place for her was in the hospital and we agreed. She was a direct admit. She was so dehydrated that the nurse couldn't get into her vein the first time. When she did get in, she couldn't get enough blood to cover all the cultures they wanted to do. They hit her pretty hard with three doses of IV antibiotics. They did another xray and found that she had a pleural effusion too. I really didn't realize what this was. It is fluid build up between the lung and the lining of the lung (the pleural lining). The lymph nodes don't drain it like they should due to the infection in her lung they were trying to keep up with. That would explain why she had shoulder pain and pain around the infected lung. She recovered quite well in the hospital and was out in three days. She remained weak but at least she was eating again. We were conservative in sending her back to school. I took her to the dr. before I let her go back. Hannah gained back a pound and her color has returned. The dr. said the effusion is still present but that we should carry on with life as normal. She wants her back for an xray next week to make sure it has gone away. This child just scares the heck out of me!
She returned to school yesterday and her classmates were beside themselves. They had a big sign hanging from the doorway welcoming her back. The children started filing in the classroom. When they saw Hannah they all rushed her...she ran! I laughed so hard. Then Hannah took off into the bathroom. I am not sure if she had to use it or just needed a breather. The other kids spread the news quickly that Hannah was back to the kids who hadn't seen her yet. Being that Hannah was in the bathroom, they expressed their glee to each other by hugging whoever was nearest to them! If the world could love with this kind of uninhibited affection, what a world we would have!
Hannah is back in school for a full day today (yesterday I only let her go for a 1/2 day). I am praying I don't get any phone calls coming to get her. I think she will be fine.

Pneumonia

My poor little Hannah! She had been diagnosed with asthma about 18 months ago. She has been symptom free for about a year. We have had her off her meds for 6 months. She got the upper respiratory bug that goes around and now has full blown pneumonia. She has been hospitalized before for it. The only reason she wasn't this time is her oxygen sats are not terrible (plus the fact that the hospitals are overwhelmed with patients right now). So we are staying in close contact with the dr. and nursing her back to health at home. She looks like a frail little bird. Her poor eyes are sunken into her head and she has dark circles. She is having a hard time eating so we are giving her little bits at a time. She just lays there. Her eyes are this wonderful sky blue but today they look like a cloudy day. I find it so weird that her mood is reflected in her eyes.


Out of all of our children, she was our ..ahem, surprise. From the moment she was born, she has been a joy. (I love all of my children but because she is so ill, I will focus on those feelings about her for this post.) Hannah has always been an early riser...5am and up with the birds. I am not a morning person by any means...but when you hear your baby gurgle with delight because you are the first face she sees, it's hard to be grumpy (despite being up an hour earlier with an older sibling). When she was old enough to pull herself up, she would stand in her crib with her chubby arms open wide as if she couldn't wait to feel me. She has these amazing blue eyes. I used to just stare at them while nursing her. She had cherub-like cheeks that have flattened into the shape of a young lady's face but every once in a while I catch a glimpse of them even now at 6 years old. She was an early talker, speaking complete sentences at 15 months old. They grow so fast. Now she is in first grade and gone are the days of gurgling and chubby baby arms. They are replaced with just as worthy treasures that define her personality. She can make a whole room erupt in laughter when you hear her giggle. It is the sound of pure delight coming from her.

Being that she is sick, she is more reliant upon me than she has been for the past couple of years. She has to have breathing treatments every four hours so we are up in the middle of the night (just like when she was a baby). She is too weak to even wash herself. I bathed her yesterday and held her in the crook of my arm while pouring water over her hair...just like when she was a baby. She just laid there looking up at me with those incredible cloudy blue-gray eyes. So if there is anything positive in this whole sickness, it was that moment of vulnerability...a glimpse backwards to times long gone.

I also got a glimpse into how Hannah copes with adversity. Each of my children have their own coping mechanisms. Hannah is usually happy-go-lucky so I don't often get to see hers. She sheds tears ,many of them with a talent I find impressive...she can actually "ping" them out of her eyes and hit my shirt. She also accepts things even though her face tells you she doesn't like it. You can logically reason with her at a level that is beyond her 6 years. She doesn't like it when you sugar-coat things...just give it to her straight. She also develops an attitude. It is quite the opposite of her regular persona and I am taken aback by it when it shows itself. This isn't a bad thing. I think she does this because it helps her to feel tough.

It has taken me three or four days to write this post (time is really fuzzy right now). Hannah is doing well, just very weak. When she was at her sickest point, I had her in bed with me for the night. As she slept sitting upright I started to pray over her. If you have a child who has any type of respiratory sickness, you will know that distinct rhythm of their belly breathing. Babies belly breath but as they get older, it turns into the regular chest breathing. However, when your child cannot get enough air in those lungs, the belly breathing returns. It is a scary sound while at it's worst. Then when you get all the drugs in that you can and just wait until it clears up, it becomes this rhythmic heavy breathing. I wish I could say it was soothing but it's not. I do have to say that while praying over her, it was the background noise. Something in the rhythm made the prayers come out easier. I prayed to our Lord that He continue to watch over her and help her. I prayed that our Lord Jesus Christ take her suffering up as an offering. I asked our Lady to intercede and keep her in the folds of her Holy Mantle. I also asked for St. Therese's intercession. The reason I asked for this particular saint's intercession was because of the book I am currently reading to the children. It is a book from a local author about a girl in 5th grade who is learning to follow St. Therese's little way. Hannah has really taken an interest in the story. As the story unfolds about the events in this 5th grader's life, you also learn about this saint. Hannah can tell you everything that goes on in this story. So it was natural for me to ask for St. Therese's intercession that night.

The next day, I picked up the only child well enough to go to school. I stopped and talked to Hannah's teacher. She said that the children in Han's class were supposed to make her cards but they ran out of time, however, one girl did make one. I took the pile of papers, that included missed work and this particular card and got back in the car. When we returned home, I handed Hannah the homemade card. It was from a classmate that would have no idea Han's interest in St. Therese. The picture was simple. It said it was to Hannah from S and the drawing was of a single rose. I wept.

FOR THOSE NOT FAMILIAR WITH ST. THERESE YOU MAY FIND THIS HELPFUL:
In case anyone is interested, Saint Theresa is known as the Saint of the Little Ways. Meaning she believed in doing the little things in life well and with great love. She is also the patron Saint of flower growers and florists. She is represented by roses. May everyone be blessed who receives this message.

St. Theresa's Prayer:

May today there be peace within. May you trust your highest power that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you....May you be content knowing you are a child of God.... Let this presence settle into our bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of you.

A Rant about Breastfeeding....

I am somewhat disturbed by the recent media attention given to a mother breastfeeding a baby other than her own. In the news today, Selma Hayek was shown breastfeeding a starving infant in Sierra Leone. Why is this newsworthy?? Big deal. The radio stations were going nuts over this story. I heard comments like, "Ewwww!" or "That's just wrong." Then there was my favorite comment, "Wish I was a baby." (of course that was made by a man).

The article I read was from Time magazine's website. The author of the article went on to say that the La Leche League does not endorse cross nursing. Well, of course they wouldn't endorse it. They have a reputation to protect. Heaven forbid one case in a million comes back that a mother inadvertently passed a disease to an infant that is not her own. The LLL is a wonderful organization but even they are not exempt from the CYA moves that this society lives by.

My biggest beef with this is the shock at breastfeeding. Folks, whether we like to think about it or not, women since the beginning of time have nursed their babies. Boobies were made for this purpose. God knew what He was doing in His workshop, okay? Boobies are not put here for the male pleasure (although it is an added bonus to be fair to the male gender). We lose sight so quickly about what life was like before formula came out. My mother was raised on Pet milk with vitamins mixed in. Now that will raise an ,"EWWWW!" from me. What do you think women around 100+ years ago did when they couldn't produce milk anymore? There were fellow women either in their family or in the village that were willing to share their milk supply. Do you think they went to Walmart for the bottles and breast pumps? Nooooo, they latched them right on. And what we don't ever want to talk about....Our Lord was more than likely breastfed. Think about it.

So let's set aside the rumors of publicity for Ms. Hayek for argument's sake. Let's just put ourselves in that situation. Hypothetically lets say: You are visiting a poverty stricken village. You see a child who is starving because his mother no longer has milk and the stigma in the village is that breastfeeding mother's cannot resume relations with their husbands (so wet nurses arent' willing to come forward). You have milk. Would you honestly stand there and do nothing? Would you not try to comfort that child? You may not be able to ensure that child will live. But would you idly be able to stand there knowing you could do something about it while the situation is in front of you? I couldn't. I just couldn't. Let's try another angle. If you saw a starving child and you had a can of formula. Would you not give it to that child no questions asked? Why is it different? And "just because it is..." is not an answer.

The other thing I want to mention is that not too long ago there was a story in the paper about a Chinese police officer who also had a milk supply. She nursed quite a few babies whose mothers died or were injured during the earthquake China suffered. She was hailed as a hero. But Ms. Hayek is gross? I don't get the double standard.

I am so sick of this society-mostly American I might add- that views breasts in a sexual way. There is nothing more maternal than nursing a child. Have we warped what it means to be female so much that we now are disgusted by a natural function? We are kicking women off planes for nursing their children. We are suing YMCA's for mother's nursing their infants while watching their other children swim. We are tsk tsking and tut tutting when we see it in public. Ridiculous.

What's next? Give me a break!

TMI

Another happening in my life that is of some significance is:

The Good Lord wasn't done with His graces yet...he moved our hearts once again. I have always suffered from heavy and painful periods. The dr. that delivered Olivia kept insisting I go on the pill. I just didn't feel like that was the answer to my problems. I asked about other treatments and was told there was a new one called Laser Ablation. Huh? BBQ my uterus? No thanks. And with a heavy heart, I left him. I decided I was going to get a woman and I was going Pro-Life. We have an HMO...and for those who have an HMO, you know how fun it is to Dr. shop! I was listening to a Catholic radio station online and they had an ad for a woman's center. I looked it up online to see where it was. A little far but nothing I couldn't do once a year. I held my breath and looked into my health care provider booklet. Lo and behold, a Dr. from this center was listed and she was a WOMAN! I cried. Then I called for an appt. I cried to the receptionist who I am sure thought I was a lunatic...bless her heart, she never made me feel like I was. You know what was even the best part? I didn't have to wait a month to get in (like with my previous dr.) and I had an appt. for the very next week. Matt got home and I cried some more.



I went to my first appt. and when I told the dr. my symptoms she patted my leg and said I had been suffering too long. There was a hormone that was deficient in me and they prescribed a bioidentical (not biosynthetic) replacement. It has changed my life. (disclaimer: always see your health care professional for advice and never go by someone else's success story...each body is made differently). While talking with my dr. I inquired if she knew of any urologists that would reverse vasectomies. She gave me a name but she was unsure of where his office was. I don't know why I asked this because Matt and I were not talking of reversal at the time. It just popped into my head and came out my mouth. I walked out of my appt with a prescription to a new way of life and a dr.'s name I didn't even glance at ...and guess what I did? Yep, I cried.



A little while after that appt., Matt started having some discomfort and swelling..umm..down there. He saw his PCP and was given motrin. This helped with the swelling but not with the discomfort. Remember when I spoke about Em's adoption and how there was no real discussion? Well, Matt mentioned that maybe we should investigate a reversal. Guess who had a name? Guess where the dr. was located? Less than a mile from our house! We investigated cost....no, it wasn't cheap. In mid 2008, Matt went in for a reversal. The dr. said that on one side, the vas tubes had grown back together but was pinched (hence the swelling and discomfort). It was not an easy procedure and the first week was not fun for him. He is all hooked back up and we are learning NFP (which coincidentally, I have to know a basic form of it to monitor when I ovulate due to my medication). I have to say though that we have regained something in the bedroom that we weren't even fully aware we had lost...it was the union of a man and woman embracing in an act that is a gift from God. We finally had "us" back the way it was meant to be.

A missionary's heart

I really need to wrap up these events of the past so I can start posting on the present! But each event is a step towards what my life has become...it is important to retrace these footsteps so it makes sense to those who are brave enough to tackle this blog. It is important for my kids to someday understand these events.
To sum up 2007 and 2008...it was us being submerged in our faith. For the most part of 2007, we were on our "honeymoon" phase with the Lord. We enrolled the kids in a Catholic school about 20 minutes from our home. We left our parish of 10 years to join the parish the kids went to. I miss the people at our old parish...but I feel fed at our current one. (Sounds snobby I know but I just have to be honest). Jack serves Mass and we have learned so much.

During this time I had this urgent yearning to do missionary work. I half-heartedly looked into different Catholic organizations that could accommodate a family...I found two. One of the organizations was featured on a show on the cable that airs Catholic media. I about fell out of my chair. I expressed this desire to travel to a third world country to evangelize to Matt. He is the voice of practicality and quickly (although respectfully) had me rethink where it is God is truly calling me. I had come to the conclusion that while I have a missionary heart, I also have a vocation: wife and mother. Two of our children had been recently diagnosed with chronic conditions. While I know in my heart the Lord will provide, Matt asked me to think about how fair it was to these two small children to take them to a third world country for the sake of fulfilling my yearning. Instant doubt flooded my mind as I tried to wrestle with what I had going on in my current vocation and what my heart was being pulled to do. I just told God that He was going to have to have everything to fall into place...just like He did when we went to get Em...if this were to happen. (I am so funny telling God my stipulations aren't I?).

Much of 2007 and some of 2008 was spent with doctors and specialists for these two chronic conditions. Hannah was diagnosed with asthma and landed in the hospital for a 4 day stretch...we could have lost her due to my lack of knowledge on how serious asthma can be. Emma had been having seizures and I got to learn how to spell neurologist without thinking twice about where the e and the u go. They were both placed on meds for each of their conditions. Hannie seemed to respond wonderfully. Em wasnt' so lucky so we took her off of them in hopes she would just outgrow her condition.

Early in their diagnoses, we chaperoned a field trip with Jack's class to a shrine not far from our home. It was the shrine for the sick and dying. It was a nice trip and we received an annointing by Fr. with oil he recently brought back from Lourdes. We of course prayed for H and E for healing and went on with our lives for a while. About 8 months after attending this field trip, I was deep cleaning Jack's room. Jack has pack rat tendencies (he gets it from my side) so I go in there and purge things that are just junk no matter how much sentimental value he has placed on it. I picked up an old folder to put it with the rest of the school supplies when a prayer card fell out. Jack had brought it back with him from the shrine. I flipped it over to read it and it said, "if you have received a miracle after visiting the shrine, please write us to let us know." I immediately went down to find the notebooks that I keep Han and Em's symptoms, meds, dr.'s visits etc in it. The last date that either of them had any symptoms was around the same time we went to the shrine. Now, I suppose you can chalk it up to the meds for H...but how do you explain Em's condition? That she outgrew it all of the sudden? (and yes, I did write a letter letting them know that this mom chalked it up to 2 miracles). I am writing this in 2009 and there have been no asthma attacks...Hannah is off all meds and has been for almost a year. Em has been seizure free for well over a year. Can I get an AMEN?!

p.s. see post in Feb that describes Hannah's relapse. If you ask if I still believe that a miracle was performed here, my answer is a solid YES>

Back to my point about the missionary's heart...I still have this yearning to do mission work. I have since returned to school to complete a Nursing degree. I have been thinking about doing a medical mission. I am in my second semester. I sat up in bed last week and realized; I am doing missionary work, only I am too thick skulled to see it! More on that in a future post.

A break in the action

If this blog's purpose is to document, I must take a break from walking down memory lane in order to acknowledge the happenings of the present. Yesterday the 44th president of the United States of America was sworn in. I am left to wonder if I paid more attention to it because I follow these things now. Or did I pay attention to it because one couldn't escape it? It is a very historical moment...one cannot deny this no matter what your feeling on the matter may be. Two things struck me as I listened to Pres. Obama's inauguration:
1) The part of President Obama's speech where he said,

"For those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you." —Inaugural Speech, January 20th, 2009

2) The benediction of the inauguration where Rev. Lowery said,

"Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around -- (laughter) -- when yellow will be mellow -- (laughter) -- when the red man can get ahead, man -- (laughter) -- and when white will embrace what is right." --Inaugural Speech, January 20th, 2009

If you do not understand where I am going with this...read no further for it will make no sense to you. The words "slaughtering innocents" keep running through my head. Was I hearing it right? The slaughtering of the innocents! Mr. President, do you understand the weight of what you just said? Do you understand what you just conveyed to the Pro-Life Americans that ten minutes ago you swore to uphold and protect. The constitution says that ALL men are created equal. That was not always so...we know that. We have proven we can rise above. We have shown that we have come so far and can still keep working. We can all agree on that. Where we have trouble is with the word Created. How does one get here if not through it's mother womb? ALL men are CREATED equal. Not, ALL men are CREATED equal ...unless its inconvenient. SO excuse me if I am not jumping up and down at this new president. It's not because the color of his skin...and if you read two posts ago...you will understand where I stand on race. It's because his record of being the most liberal senator. It's because of his stance on those innocents...the unborn. It's because of the Born Alive Act, it's because of his promise to Planned Parenthood, it's because of the White House's website about how he feels about women.
People are running around shouting about how wonderful Obama is and now we have hope. But dare I burst their bubble and ask, "what has he done in government that would give you that hope?" Sure, he has beaten many odds. Do we not realize that we always have hope. Why have we put all of our hope in one man's hands? Are people so separated from our Lord that we place all of our beliefs in a man who has no track record?
But dare I say anymore? Rev. Lowery made it known how he feels about me if I lash out anymore. Sorry, but that statement was racist and I was shocked when I heard it. And he didn't say, "May the white always embrace what is right". He said, "When the white will embrace what is right".

So what is this SAHM/PT student supposed to do about all of this? I will just have to spend more time on my knees, placing these feelings in the care of my Lord. After all, there is only one Man I place my hope in...

Brother D and the Anti-C

We returned home with a beautiful baby girl. The transition was a pretty smooth one. Slowly, Em let each sibling into her world of people to trust. Once she got going, she never looked back. As we entered 2006, we started to learn more of our faith. A lesson I learned quickly is that the closer you get to God, the more you will be tested.
(I want this blog to be a documentation of that whole process for our family. Our girls have no clue that we "changed" at all. Jack,however, remembers what it was like when we weren't "so Catholic". I think he looks upon those times with nostalgia.)
So here we are, settling in quite nicely...enter in Matt's brother...who was a "bible" christian with a mission to save all of us heathen Catholics. We'll call him Brother D( who BTW is Jack's godfather back in the day when he would enter a Catholic Church). I will not go on and on about what all that entailed because it's the typical anti-catholic rhetoric. I will say that we were questioned...sometimes brutally...on our faith. We were NOT prepared because we didn't know how to answer. We had Brother D come in and tell us we were going to hell, the Pope was the anti-christ, Church is whore of babylon...yadda yadda yadda. Before this sounds like I am complaining, I want to express that it's the opposite. I am thankful for Brother D. I am blessed that God used Brother D to further my faith. Without him coming with these point blank accusations, I would not have dusted off my Catechism. I would not have read scripture. I would not have read the Church fathers. I would not have discovered EWTN or Fr. Corapi or Scott Hahn. Thank you Brother D! If I was a Catholic, then I had better know what it means to be a Catholic. I remember listening to one of Brother D's tyrades and looking at Matt and saying, "we believe that?" Then reading up on the latest way we were told we failed God and learning that, "yeah, we believe that but not the way Brother D puts it." I think there was a small portion of time that we looked into our faith afraid of finding that it wasn't adding up. What happened was quite the opposite. Our research on the Catholic faith made us understand what it is we say we believe when we recite the Apostle's Creed at Mass. Mass became more beautiful to us. I now was dressing the kids for Mass with excitement...I was going to my Father's house!
So thank you Brother D...I have told you how thankful I am...you will never know how much.

p.s. Brother D has since calmed down quite a bit with his anti-Catholic rhetoric. He has apologized for some of his accusations...I still just feel blessed because of them. He has even stepped up as Jack's Godfather...although he is no longer Catholic, he has been sending Jack things that are biblical and respectful to our faith. I am very proud of how far he has come. It brings tears of joy to my eyes when I read his letter to his godson. He and his family have grown beautifully these past few years in love and in numbers! They are a blessing to know. Love Ya Brother D!

Blessings in disguise

After having our marriage convalidated, Matt and I just seemed closer. You know, when you have three kids four and under, life can get hectic. It continued that way for a few years. Our kids were now 7, 4 and 2. It seemed like things were finally getting under control. Matt and I were communicating more. Life was good...it was great. I was smiling alot (which had not happened in a long time) and knew that I didn't have to handle a thing...God was in control.



The summer of 2004 Matt turned to me and said that he regretted not having more children. We briefly talked of having his vasectomy reversed. The Lord was speaking to his heart in a different way. We knew that to reverse this cost alot of money...insurance will cover it to do it but not to undo it. And to be quite frank...to think about the procedure even made me queasy. Matt said, why not use the money and put it towards a child who is already here. Let's adopt. There was no debate. There was no thinking about it. Next thing I knew, we were researching domestic adoption vs international. We decided to do international. Now we needed to decide on what country. I had two countries in mind, Korea and Guatemala. The reason I chose these two is because the babies can be escorted to you. Remember that our children were very small. God may have called me to adopt, but He certainly wouldn't call me away from the children that are already in our care....would He? Matt knew right away that China was our destination. I kept trying to make Korea look more appealing. I even spoke to a friend from high school who adopted from there. "Here honey, listen to her experience. Isn't it great?". There is the control freak in me rearing it's ugly head again.

China. You could not get further away if you tried...at least that's what I felt. Two weeks away from our children. Who would watch them? It's not like people were coming out of the woodwork with offers...they were still reeling from the year before! The girls(Hannah and Olivia) weren't even old enough for pre-school. Jack was homeschooled. How are we going to swing two weeks of full time care for our kids here? China? Really? Well, if that's where we are supposed to go then let's see You swing this one. We chose an agency, did a flurry of paperwork, and sat for 9 months. On September 2, 2005 we received a call. Our baby girl's picture came up on our computer. She took our breath away. And then it started...my arms began to ache for her. My baby was over there and I am here. She needs her mommy. She has gone 11 months without a mamma to hold her. Normally when you get your referral for your child, you travel 3-4 weeks later. Because of the trade fair going on in China, we were not going to travel until early November. Once we received confirmation of when we were travelling, I began to panic. Who was going to watch my kids? We made the decision to bring Jack with us. He just turned 8. But there was no way I was going to be able to afford or handle taking Olivia (4) and Hannah (3). Lo and behold my MIL...who works full time and not really into the whole babysitting thing...stepped up to the plate. A neighbor helped fill in the gaps. My sister and two of my SIL's offered assistance. A friend asked where she could help. It all worked out and was orchestrated perfectly. Isn't God Great? It was if He said, "Go my daughter and complete the journey I have sent you on."
On Nov. 5, 2005 we set off for China. I remember looking back at the two girls at the airport one last time before walking thru security. There were no tears from them...after all, they were staying at Grammy and Papa's house to be kept busy and be spoiled rotten (the fruits of this two week stay with Grammy and Papa are still paying off to this day...it was a turning point). Off we went into the great unknown.
The story of Em's adoption is a very special story. I have it documented in a few places. Maybe I will write it here one day. The point of telling this particular journey should be obvious. This journey to Emma was totally orchestrated by a power beyond Matt and I. It wasn't a decision we made, it was truly a calling. The trip over to China changed us in ways I didn't even know existed in my heart. We no longer looked at things the same. To hold that child in my arms for the first time was the most significant moment in my life. To look into her eyes and not know much about her past but know where her future will be is beyond comprehension. To hear the few details about what her life had been like for the past 11 months is just short of amazing. To know there were several people who helped take care of her until we could come and get her has touched my soul.
I have a unique outlook when it comes to being a mother. I have carried three children in my womb. I have known them from the moment they moved. When each one was laid on me after being born, I finally got to see what this child, who kicked and moved inside of me, looked like. With Em, it was the opposite. I saw this child first and then I got to know the way she moved. For those who have adopted but don't have biological children...know that the love you feel is NO different. The process is different but the maternal flood of emotions is not.
Emma has overcome a language barrier. She has overcome abandonment. She has overcome different smells and sounds. She has learned she belongs in a family. She has learned to trust that she is loved. She has learned that when she eats, there will be more. Emma is my hero and is one of the strongest females I know.

2004...it was a memorable year

So to sum up 2003: My parents divorce. Come November of 2003, I was just emotionally drained. I do not consider myself to ever have suffered from depression...but whatever the first step up from that is called...that was what I was in. I was doing but not really present in my daily activities. Who knew that as an adult, my parent's divorce would have shook my world up so much. To top it off, we lost my great-grandmother. She was 97 and had been in a nursing home for many years with some form of dementia/alzheimers. I don't know why I was shocked when I received the call that she had passed... being emotionally drained could be the cause. We had to drive to PA to have her funeral. My grandparents and my dad call it "back home" as that is where they are originally from. My sister and her daughter also made the trek. The kids did wonderful and I was glad to have gone despite the initial dread I had (November in the mountains of PA with three small children in the car wasn't my idea of a good time). Great grandma was a warm and kind woman and I miss her very much.


After the events of this year, I needed a break so Matt and I decided that we were going to take a vacation to see his brother and his family in Hawaii for Christmas. I looked forward to laying on the beach, soaking up the sun and just being far away from all of these issues. We were gone for almost a month. Looking back now, I realize that this trip was the calm before the storm. I had no idea what was ahead in 2004.


The first half of 2004 contained a series of events that rocked our family. Although our little family of five was stable... our extended family was in so much pain. Matt and I witnessed two marriages struggle through infidelity, old secrets from long ago came out, and unspeakable acts that were committed in a few family members' childhood came to the surface. I thought about expanding on these events...but to walk down that path again is really just too painful. I will say that the marriages survived, the old secrets will work themselves out, and the unspeakable acts...well, how does one fully recover? The point of all of this is that it was absolutely painful. I remember Matt and I taking turns just bursting into tears. To watch those you love so much have these issues to deal with all at once is heartbreaking. It was at this time that I remember laying on the floor and just looking up and saying, "you know God, You take over....I cannot do this by myself anymore. I don't even know how to feel let alone how to help."
A few days after this, I walked into the room where Matt was reading the Bible. He just started crying (FYI-Matt does not tear up easily. He has been my rock for many years so to see him crack is quite an event). He was reading in the Gospel where it says, 'which one of you would give his son a snake when he asks for a fish...how much more will your Heavenly Father give good things to those who ask him?'-Mt 7:9-11
I have read that passage before but something about your husband sobbing over scripture will really get it speaking to your heart. In April of 2004, Jack took his first communion. I was sobbing like a baby as I watched him receive his Lord for the first time. And then a week later it happened...I was walking thru the kitchen and this wonderful wash of Love just poured over me. It was not a feeling...it was physical. It was heavy and I could barely stand. I cannot describe it in words. I am not a writer and despite my ability to go on and on, I do not express myself well with these words. I have heard the words 'born again' and I am hesitant to use them. Those of you who are Catholic will know what I mean...well, we just don't call it that do we? One baptism for the forgiveness of sins. I think those who do believe in born again theory-reversion is what I call it- will know what it is that I felt. Semantics. But I also believe that God can move you into an experience without this feeling of warmth...
This was the start of this incredible journey...and guess what? It all came thru suffering. Not suffering in a physical sense...although it sure felt physical at times especially in my heart. But suffering where you just don't have the answers anymore. The suffering that you can't take medicine to ease it. The kind that you can literally feel your heart hurting inside your chest. You see, as an oldest child, I am used to being the problem solver. I have all of the advice for our younger siblings and when I can't fix it, I feel like a failure. I am sure I am called little -miss- know -it- all in certain circles. It is very hard for me to hand over control or think that someone else has better answers than I do. It's not pride, it just my make up (okay, character flaw). God knew this. It is why those particular lessons came in the form that they did. He had to break me in order to get me to hear His voice. Not until I threw up my hands and gave in did He start to whisper to me. Softly at first and then loudly as time went on. Guiding me gently...and sometimes not so gently when I tried to take control again.
I am still in awe at how Matt and I were affected at the same time. I can't imagine going thru that without him knowing exactly what I was feeling. We were coming up on our 10th anniversary. We thought it was time to get our marriage convalidated. So in June, we said our vows after Mass. It was Fr. , Matt, me, and two witnesses...that's it. It was emotional and it was beautiful. From that moment on...life took us down a path that was very unexpected, took us down a path that was very frustrating, and took us down a path that deepened our faith.

This will probably be one, long ,drawn out post. I think my husband's new favorite word is circumlocution...I think he likes it because I am next to the definition in the dictionary. I can't help it. I come from a long line of circumlocutors. I am sure at least one of my children will be a master of this family trait. I have a suspicion of which one but I hold back on revealing their identity for now. But one must understand many of the background events that happened in order to get a full picture. I may add things here and there as I go along too.
Without further ado, here is our story of our reversion back to our faith....

We were married in 1994. We eloped. Long story for another post of why we eloped but in a nutshell...our families were a big factor. We thought we would just elope first and then have a church wedding. Funny thinking now that I look back on it. The even more ironic thing was that after our first year of marriage, we moved even closer to these people. Matt and I are both the oldest children in our families. I truly believe in birth order and I think the oldest child has unique characteristics...but then again, I wouldn't know any different would I?
Right before and in our early marriage I waited tables and went to school while Matt worked at the place of employment he currently holds. I waited on a medical student who was putting himself through school to become an OB/GYN. Naturally we struck up a conversation and found we knew many of the same people. Over the years we talked about some infertility issues I was having. He pointed me in the right direction a few times and hey, it was free medical advice. He didn't know where he was going to go into practice at just yet but asked me to look him up in a year or two when he became Dr. M (because he was still just Mr. M at that point). Yeah, I had NO intention of looking him up. It was one thing to talk casually at the restaurant it was entirely another thing to ...well, it would have just been wierd.
About a year after we were married, I ended up quitting my waitress job when I was hired at the hospital my MIL worked at. I was an OR tech and I loved it. It was flexible enough to where I could still go to school. Now that we had settled a little bit I really wanted a baby. I was told that it would be very difficult for me to get pregnant if at all. After a year of seriously trying, we were put on Clomid. First time, worked like a charm. It was a wonderful pregnancy (once the first few months of puking went away). I was HUGE but I was glowing and had beautiful hair and skin. We didn't find out what we were having. I quit my job when the third trimester came around and I quit going to school. I nested, I had my baby shower, I had the house looking perfect. I was so happy to be pregnant and happy to finally have a baby in my arms. Jack was an easy delivery and my longest labor (7 hours). (He also was the crabbiest child we had...we just didn't know it at the time). Now that we have this new baby, the reality of what we were responsible for hit us.
To give a little background on my religious resume: I was raised in a free will Methodist church. My parents' philosophy was that when we were old enough, we could choose our own faith to get baptized in. It was not a philosophy I wanted to pass down in my new family. We had Jack baptized in the Roman Catholic Church. After all, Matt had been baptized Catholic and I had just converted five years prior(not because Matt was...that is another post too). Over the next couple of years, we went to Mass now and then. Jack turned 2 and we decided maybe it was time for another. Dr. put us back on Clomid after six months of unsuccessfully trying it on our own. We (I) did the Clomid thing again for five cycles and no pregnancy. Dr. wanted to do an endometrial biopsy in the office. I sweated all week dreading this procedure but if it meant that I could have a baby then I was willing to do whatever it took. Day of the procedure, dr. cancelled the appt. I never went back to him.
On the day of my cancelled appt. I was crying to my MIL (the OR nurse). She mentioned the name of a female OB/GYN who she really thought I would like. I went in for my first exam with this new Dr. R. a few weeks later. She was really nice and it was a good change from my previous doc (who I do not have bad feelings for...this change was just very nice). After administering a blood test to rule out pregnancy, she prescribed Provera-to start my period and then Clomid on day 10. We were starting over with her. So I took my Provera like a good little patient and my period never started. Then I threw up hot tea and toast....guess what? I was pregnant and the blood test didn't show it because it was too early. As I was going to schedule my first few OB appts. guess who pops his head out the door? That's right, Dr. M. Guess who ended up delivering Olivia? That's right, Dr. M. Guess who was my new dr. now? That's right...boy, you catch on quick.
Guess what happened when Olivia turned 6 months old? Go ahead, guess....That's right, I was pregnant again! Nine months later came Hannah. The girls were 14 months apart. How did I do it you ask? I don't know, I don't remember much of that time frame....guess a blog would have been good. SO much for being infertile. (Guess what DH got done when H was three months old. Unfortunately, yes he did...but more on that later. )
Fast forward to 2003. Jack is going thru his CCD classes. He didn't even know the Our Father or the Hail Mary. We really started taking a hard look at what it meant to raise these kids with a faith. Matt had not been confirmed yet either and decided that if we were going to raise our kids Catholic that he should at least set an example. So at Easter Vigil in 2003, he was confirmed. I started to get involved in our parish. 2003 was a precursor of the events of 2004 so lets set the stage for some of that now.
My parents have had a rocky relationship for about a decade now. That is a story that is so complicated and ridiculous and sad...that I just don't have it in me to start picking that apart right now. In the fall of 2003, my mom called and said they were getting a divorce after 32 years of marriage. I was not surprised but not really happy about it. She said it was going to be amicable and everything would be okay. WRONG! It was the most hateful and deceitful thing I have ever witnessed and almost 6 years later...I am still not sure what happened there. Basically my mom accused my dad of unspeakable atrocities...many extended family members got involved and many lines got crossed. That side of the family is still in pieces. My point is that it was an event that I let affect my life with my Husband and my kids. I was not in a good frame of mind. I had a first grader and a three and two year old. That job is exhausting in and of itself. Let alone add the stress of this divorce that wasn't even my own.
The other events that went on that year: We had just moved to a new house. Matt was starting to learn his faith again. Matt was working crazy hours taking on a new position in management. I volunteered A LOT at our parish and started to ask A LOT of questions about our faith. One common thing that many of the ladies said was that I knew my faith better than most catholics so don't worry about it. They were well meaning and I learned alot from them but I still didn't feel satisfied. Matt joined Parish Council...he was getting the same feedback from fellow council members.
I didn't realize it then but God had many shake ups coming our way....
(to be continued next post)

Maiden Voyage

Where's the bottle of champagne to break across the bow of my computer?
I never really thought about a blog until recently. I always thought, 'who would want to read about my life anyways'. Then I thought, 'is this blog for others or for me?' Once I answered that question (and got up the gumption) this blog was born. I am no longer a blog lurker but now an active participant. I have also been encouraged by an aunt and my sister to write.
This blog is to document our life. I used to write things down in the kids' baby books but they are getting full. Then I tried journaling but I kept misplacing the journal. A blog just makes sense once you embrace this electronic culture. Aside from an archive of our life's events, I would also like this blog to be therapeutic...or should I say cathartic? If it seems like it's all about my kids for a few posts, it is only because they define who I am so it's natural that I would speak of them often. This blog may be preachy to other readers. Don't read it if you aren't in the mood to be preached to. You have a right to your opinion as well of course...but you also have a right to click onto another blog that would fall more in line with your way of thinking. I am just trying to avoid negativity that sometimes is part of this format of journaling.
A little background on our family. Matt and I have been married for 14 years. We were high school sweethearts (does it still count even though it was the end of Sr. year?). We have four children. One boy and three girls: Jack-11, Olivia-7, Hannah-6 and Emma-4. I am a SAHM and a part time student.
We are Catholic. We are truly blessed to belong to a parish that has a devout priest. We are a work in progress. Matt was loosely raised Catholic and I converted when I was 20. When we had Jack we had him baptized (because that's what you were supposed to do, right?). We chose a parish near us and went to Mass every now and then. We kinda knew what the Church taught but we used our own interpretation most of the time. Almost five years ago we had a reversion back to our faith. There was a series of events that happened in our lives to get to that point. Maybe next post I will write about that process...it contains some painful memories so we will see. I can talk about it no problem but there is just something about seeing it in writing that makes it more painful.
So raise that cup of joe to this maiden post. It is about my life, thru my eyes. For the record, I am perfectly imperfect. I have my days which may or may not reflect my mood here on this forum. I have my opinions...which may change from time to time as I mature or view it from another perspective. I also like who I am despite all of these flaws. My intent here is to simply share my story...not for anyone in particular other than my family. My intent here will never hold malice in my thoughts or in my heart. It is a great understanding to any potential reader that the Truth is sometimes hard to read. It may be at times here. It may not be your truth. So only respectful readers please.