Hail to the .....King? Post-Inaugural Musings

 Well. Apparently the last time I blogged here was in 2016. Basically a lifetime ago. Eight babies in Heaven now, a married daughter, two adult teen sons, a sixteen year old son, and 21 years of marriage have given me some perspectives, experiences, and much to ponder. That isn't the reason for this return from blogging hiatus though. I process by writing and so this is much more for me than it is for anyone else. I also welcome discussion, so I will share these musings and perhaps a discussion will help me crystalize them further. We are all in this crazy world together, trying to get each other to Heaven, so let's talk about it...

Oh yes, we did the matching PJ pic this Christmas!

I followed the inauguration of President Trump and Vice President Vance with interest. My own foray into Presidential Politics back in the 2012 race has certainly given me a perspective into how that particular "sausage is made." Living in Virginia, relearning much of our American history from more authentic, first hand, and Catholic perspectives rather than from protestant-puritanical-manifest-destiny-winner-writes-the-story-federal-level ones has been eye opening. (I highly recommend Virginia First: The 1607 Project by the Abbeville Institute. The video is well done and well worth the watch and consideration). Perhaps a helpful exercise has also been re-reading the American Constitution with one of my sons (as part of his schooling). Reading about the powers of the Executive Branch as they were set forth by the founders is all at once refreshing and dismaying. We have come very, very, very far from what was first envisioned and recorded in that document. In addition to the Federal Constitution, we are also reading the Constitution of the Confederate States of America and the Constitution of the State (Commonwealth) of Virginia. These are exercises I highly suggest because there are indeed some fascinating things one would discover upon doing so; including that the CCSA focused on emphasizing the States' individual Rights and the primacy of such and sought to limit the Federal reach and Federal Powers. It also federally banned the international slave trade and then pivoted to the states to enact what Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis were actually in favor of: the deliberate and planned phasing out of institutional slavery. The Virginia Constitution included and still includes, a Bill of Rights (a new innovation of the time in which it was first written)! It is argued that the Federal Bill of Rights is modeled after the Bill of Rights in the Constitution of Virginia.

By Samuel Shepherd & Co., Richmond VA - http://www.wvculture.org/history/government/1830constitution01.html, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5300998

All this comparing and contrasting was in my mind as I watched the inauguration on January 20, 2025, and as I read through the (as of Tuesday, the 21st of January) five pages of Executive Orders posted on Whitehouse.gov. As of Saturday, February 8, there are ten pages of executive actions. The first time I visited whitehouse.gov I was treated to the auto-splashed video that really should be called "Trump: The Experience." Subsequent visits have not produced the video. If you have yet to visit whitehouse.gov, do yourself the treat and see if the video plays for you. It is a masterpiece in emotional American nationalistic media. 

Those ten (and counting) pages of executive actions are an interesting contrast to the currently nine - that is nine total, not nine pages - of upcoming congressional actions listed at govtrack.us, one of which is a bill to recognize the National Museum of Play. Obviously Congress has been busy with the confirmation hearings for the official Government positions that need to be filled, but that is still quite the contrast in the workloads of the branches. The giant elephant in the room of those approval hearings (no political pun intended) is that the busiest, most influential, and most powerful person in the Trump Administration right now is arguably Elon Musk. A man who is not subject to Congressional approval because his position is completely made up. Let's talk about that for a minute. 

Upon being crowned  inaugurated, President Trump created a new extension of the Executive Branch.  A branch of the branch so to speak. Not only that, but he gave this new Executive Department the power to expand itself by hiring a team and employees. The goal of this expansion of the Executive Branch of the Federal Government? To shrink the Federal Government. This is a fascinating time to be alive, friends. It is an incredibly novel idea to shrink the government by first growing it. I am not sure that has ever been tried (and found successful) before, but here we are. 

I am not arguing that we don't need to drastically reduce the size of the Federal Government. Good heavens, we do. I am not arguing that the entire system is out of control, corrupt, and off the Constitutional reservation. It is. On one hand, President Trump knows he was elected to fix it. If I have learned one thing after growing up watching Trump make comeback after comeback and deal after deal, it is that when he is determined to do something, he will do it. The man has a tenacious resiliency. He also loves to keep score. That is one of the reasons why whitehouse.gov is meticulously updating the executive actions. It is all at once his version of transparency and also his "I told you so." On the other hand, though, I think we need to admit that we are not the America of the Constitution. We are not the America our Founding Fathers envisioned. We are not the America that has three co-equal branches of Government who are to carry out duties that have not been delegated and left to the states. Neither political party is actually the party of limited Government. How could they be? You can't be cheering on President Trump and his growing list of Executive orders, and then cheering on Mr. Elon Musk and his DOGE and also maintain that you want a small, limited Federal Government. The very Government you are cheering on is a Federal Government on steroids with an Executive Branch on a power-bender. 

By Office of Speaker Mike Johnson - X.com, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=157377497

Now, before I am accused of all sorts, from all sides, let me also say that I recognize we didn't get here overnight. In fact the imperial Presidency has been on its way up since Lincoln. It got another leg up with FDR's New Deal and yet another with Bush's declaration of "war" without Congress's approval.  Then Biden issued an astounding amount of reversals to previous Trump policies in his first one hundred days in office, essentially "undoing" much of previous four years.  So obviously, upon retaking office, Trump had to do likewise. This has been the trend in America. There has always been political tension between those who profess the need for heavy federal vs heavy state powers. New Yorker, Alexander Hamilton, the most prolific of the founders in the Federalist papers, made case after case for a heavy centralized federal government. His southern (and almost exclusively Virginian) political adversaries fought for a smaller and less powerful federal system and a more robust and independent association of sovereign states, confederated under a constitution that articulated the states' duties towards one another in matters of national defense, commerce, and foreign relations. While the latter system is largely "how we started" and was what the civil war failed to reestablish, it is nowhere near where we are today. 

Obviously something must be done. Obviously many Americans are thrilled to see something happening. I too, marvel at the massive amounts of money mishandling, bloat, media corruption, and government-run-amok being uncovered. I think some important and necessary conversations are happening about the duties of a nation with regards to immigration, borders, and security, and even more important and necessary conversations about a Christian's duty to the same. And I, like many, want to feel like I am winning. Like I am finally on a winning team. Like I can believe in my country and for what it stands. However, I can't help but want to issue a caution. 

The Caution: We are in an unprecedented place in history. America of now is not America of yesterday and we have no idea what America of tomorrow is actually going to look like. How does a country, how does a government, walk back from growing itself and gaining for itself unprecedented power? When in history has that happened? When has it happened without violence, a war, or an invasion? Power tends to corrupt. The antidote to that is humility and servant-leadership. In order to have humility one must have a moral compass that leads to virtue. Time will tell what the moral compass of our  King Commander-in-Chief actually is. Let us not forget that President Trump willfully reinvents himself for the occasion as is necessary. Let us pray for his sincere and lasting conversion. 

Then let us not be surprised if, down the road, this goes, very, very wrong. 

Stay with me, here, I am not about to go all doomsday on you, but I think there are some things worth saying and considering. The most important being, if there isn't a clear end-game and end-point to this brave new DOGE-world driven by executive orders and propped up by a Congress distracted by talking about museums and adjusting it's own parliamentary rules, then we are headed for trouble. Big trouble. Don't worry - I also have two options for that end game. First though, we need to just be honest about the trouble. 

Trouble #1: In order for DOGE to do its ultimate job it has to work itself out of job. Then those in power must willingly give up that power. What happens if they don't? A Trump v. Musk showdown? The world's most likable narcissist v. the world's smartest man? They're both rich, so at least money isn't an object. It really comes down to power. When was the last time you saw two powerful men willingly give up that power? When was the last time you saw a government entity willfully and deliberately dissolve itself? Go ahead and think for a minute...I'll wait... 

Trouble #2: The Imperial Presidency is now firmly ensconced in American political landscape. The new modus operandi is when a new president is elected, he will spend the first weeks undoing everything the previous president did, and he will do so by executive fiat. When Biden did as such, Republicans decried the unconstitutionality of it. They railed against the "dictatorship of Joe Biden." When Trump did the same (and continues to do so) those same voices are jubilant. What happens in four, eight, twelve years when the inevitable party-power change happens again? We can expect the same and then-some. The precedent has been set and accepted now. Checks and balances are laughable. We have welcomed a soft dictatorship of election. In fact not only do we welcome it, we expect it now. At what point does the soft dictatorship of election give way to a deliberate dictatorship? I fear we are the frogs being boiled, friends. 

Trouble #3: The American people have forgotten that they do still have agency - to accept or not the trajectory of government. They have forgotten that the very founding documents we still delude ourselves into thinking govern us stated very clearly that 

..to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles, and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient Causes; and accordingly all Experience hath shewn, that Mankind are more disposed to suffer, while Evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the Forms to which they are accustomed. (Declaration of Independence)

 The argument will be made that "No! Trump was elected to do just this! The American people won!" Friends, it won't feel like winning when the next President is of a different party, lesser moral character, and more power hungry. President Trump is purporting to fix a corrupt and broken system by using the same methods that got us here in the first place. Novel. Risky. But successful? Only time will tell. In the meantime though, the American people have slowly forfeited the very rights that they claim to be "fighting for at the ballot box." 

What then is the solution? 

I think faced with this unique situation, there are only two reasonable solutions. 

Solution #1: A Constitutional Convention 

...when a long Train of Abuses and Usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a Design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their Right, it is their Duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future Security. Such has been the patient Sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the Necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government.  (Declaration of Independence). 

Let Trump be Trump. Let him run unbridled side by side with DOGE into the sunset of the nation cleaning up what he can clean, keeping his promises, draining the swamp, and uncovering all the abuses, atrocities, corruptions, and deep states that he can. While doing so, he should turn his political machine loose on the states. Let's elect GOOD and strong Governors and state legislatures. Then, in the last year of his presidency, he should put all his political weight behind calling for a Constitutional Convention to reset and reshape the American Government. Everything is on the table. Even a state's membership in the United States. (Southern states, you want out? Now is your chance. Looking at you too, California). Dissolve the present government by executive fiat. (Why not? Executive fiat has already been accepted as a form of governing!) Institute a transitional government for national security while the convention takes place, to be dissolved upon the new ratification of whatever the representatives from the states decide is to be the next form of Government. We did it once. It lasted.... 200 years. We can do it again. 

Solution #2: Crown Trump King and adopt a parliamentary system of two branches 

Ya'll thought I was kidding with my strikethroughs but I'm actually not. First of all, "King" sounds better than dictator and as much as I have been enjoying seeing corruption uncovered, I have to say that sometimes it feels like we are perilously close to having one. Secondly, human beings are actually wired for monarchy. It is in our nature. We are hierarchical beings. We respond best to authority and operate best when clear authority and structures of hierarchy exist. Nature itself is a hierarchy. Heaven is a Hierarchy. The supernatural is governed as a monarchy, why should it surprise us that our tendency is to want to govern ourselves as such? It is this part of our nature that predisposes us to accepting despotism in various forms and often seeing the destructive results only when it is too late. It is this part of our nature that has allowed the Unites States to morph into a form of government dominated by an imperial presidency. So let's make it official and simply declare Trump the King. 

Beckstet, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

What would said Kingship look like? Well, that would be up to the king but since he has already remade the executive branch into his own image, I think that we can trust that he can morph the other two branches into a parliamentary two-branch system that operates in conjunction with the King. What happens after four years? I don't know. Maybe we elect a new king. That would be novel. Maybe Vance becomes King and we elect a Vice-king. Maybe our Governors elect a new King for us. Maybe we throw elections out the window and Barron becomes the new king. The sky is the limit, my friends. I think Melania could totally rock a royal tiara...I'm just saying. 

Obviously I am being a tiny bit facetious. However, my point that we are made for monarchy stands. It is this part of our nature that we have been fighting against for 200 years during this experiment called America. The actual solution, my friends, I believe lies in Catholic social teaching. 

Actual Solution #2: We need to return to a state that is governed by the Principle of Subsidiarity. 

“A community of a higher order should not interfere in the internal life of a community of a lower order, depriving the latter of its functions, but rather should support it in case of need and help to coordinate its activity with the activities of the rest of society, always with a view to the common good” (CCC 1883).

 In other words, in matters of governance, economy, industry, and safety, the lowest possible level of government capable of dealing with these issues, should. To put it another way: let the people closest to a problem deal with the problem; only escalating if resources are lacking. 

Maybe the question we really need to be asking ourselves is how do we structure ourselves, our government, our societies, to operate this way? Maybe then, when we have that constitutional convention, we will know what to do...

Thanks for reading the musing of a homeschooling mom who knows she is far from an expert on any of these matters, yet can't help but see what is going on and take pause. Thank goodness we aren't made for this world. Thank goodness that while much of this is beyond our control, we do have the ability to strive for sainthood every day. We can practice the principle of subsidiarity in our homes. With our families. We can raise saints. After all, in the course of history, it has always been the saints who have saved the world... 

In the Orbit of Mother

I'm under the weather today. Nothing serious, just a bad cold. Unfortunately I am still improving my immune system so a cold sort of really knocks me off my feet. While I know what I need to do to get over this nuisance of the nose, throat, and chest variety, whether or not I can do it seems to depend a lot on my children.

Inevitably, when I need rest, quiet and immobility, I am reminded that my children orbit around me.

Mothers are like the suns of their little domestic universes. Everything revolves around them. Husband, children, even pets, they all find harmony in a synchronous orbit around mother.

Yesterday I needed to put myself to bed and try to sleep this thing off. So when husband came home I finished making dinner and then tried to turn over the household to him and put myself in bed. Within ten minutes the first of my little orbiters came in to tell me absolutely nothing important. A few minutes later another skipped in to simply "see if I was asleep" and was relieved that I was not. Not long after that I was treated to another visit from my youngest. He thought that perhaps I needed to be entertained and snuggled so he moved into "close orbit" and splayed himself across my chest while talking nonstop about origami. Soon after this, my husband came in. He couldn't find something. I told him where it was. Then he came in again wondering how to store the left-overs. Then he decided to do the bills sitting next to me on the bed. At this point I gave up the idea of sleeping - which was good because next came the parade of children giving me origami tulips and cat faces.

I could have gotten mad. I was admittedly a bit frustrated. But I am mom. I am wife. I am, quite literally, the center of their universe.  This is something for which I am both eternally grateful and constantly terrified of messing up; but it is as it should be.

One day my children will be grown. It is happening too fast as it is with two of them on the cusp of the teenage years. They will outgrow this small domestic universe of ours. My boys will seek out their own lives. They will find a new "star" to become the center of their orbit. As they should.

My daughter will grow and learn and mature into a woman I hope will understand the important role she will play in a family of her own. A role no one else can fill. The role of wife. The role of mother.

Mother.
This exhausting, beautiful, real, raw, self-emptying calling that makes you alike to the sun, and as full of love as the moon.

And I will one day be able to put myself to bed without interruption, without small feet running to check on me, and I will miss these times. I will miss their need to simply be near me. The security they feel in knowing mother is there. She is awake. She is watching. She is present. And they are in my orbit.

So I turn to Our Blessed Mother.
Mary, Star of the Sea. Mary, Morning Star.

We have a beautiful statue of Mary in our home right now. It is by far my favorite depiction of Mary. The statue belongs to my grandmother but she loans her out to our family members. Whenever she comes to visit I find myself doing the same thing that my children do. I place myself in her orbit. It is enough to be near. To be able to glance at her as I go about my day. To feel her presence and the security that comes with it.  I actually contemplated placing her on a table in my kitchen because that is where I spend so much of my day!

More than the presence of a statue though, there is a comfort and a peace that comes from being near Our Lady. She is Mother. The most perfect of Mothers. She offers us all the comfort, the protection, the encouragement, and the help we could possibly need; and she does this because she constantly directs us to THE Son. Her Son. I love the quote from St. Louis de Montfort, "If you put all the love of all the mothers of the world into one heart it still would not equal the love of the heart of Mary for her children."

She understands the unique sacrifices and the gift that is Motherhood. She can distribute to us the Graces we need to accept our role in our families, to be the "sun" in whose orbit our family finds peace. If we place ourselves near her, much as our children do with us, we will find all the help, all the perseverance, all the love we need to be mother.

Mother.
Mary.
Mother for mothers.

Pruning

Photo Courtesy of this link

These last few months have been a season of "pruning."  I don't know why I continue to be amazed that whenever I try to really surrender, to really remove from myself everything that is not pleasing to or of God, that God does nothing less than swoop in and start pruning.  Like a master gardener finally given access to an over-grown garden and a pair of pruning shears, He takes to my soul and therefore the rest of my life, with gusto.  Its also amazing (though it shouldn't be) that even what could be seen as the smallest of things take on the greatest significance when being pruned by the Master. Equally amazing is how I seem to fail so miserably at just letting myself be molded. Letting myself be the overgrown shrub in need of attention. I suppose this is where humility comes in.  In a way this is also one of the many things God was teaching me. Its easy to want to be the rosebush. To want to be the prize of the garden show.  (Is the metaphor getting tiresome yet?)  But God isn't asking us to be those things. "Be perfect, just as our Heavenly Father is perfect" doesn't imply that we have already achieved perfection.  It implies that we have to strive for it.  Christ didn't come for the perfect people.  He came for you and me and the rest of sinful humanity.  That's why we need to be pruned.

With Lent upon us I can't help but be thankful for this unexpected but much needed season of refining.  It reminds me that Lent isn't about what we are giving up.  Its about making room for what we have to gain.  Lent is about de-cluttering ourselves so we have room for Christ to dwell within us more deeply, more fully, more freely.  Mortifications, sacrifices, they are supposed to be making room for Him.  This isn't a loss.  This is an immeasurable gain.  "For my yoke is easy and my burden light."  These words are ever true, even if they present a paradox.  Have you ever felt this lightness? This easy yoke?  Anyone even tacitly striving for holiness knows that following Our Lord is not easy.  Yet, when He asks us to do the seemingly impossible and we Trust Him enough to follow, the resulting lightness of spirit, the interior joy that follows is without words. The absolute peace that dwells within - peace that cannot be shaken by external storms or events.  It is not Christ who piles on the heavy burdens. We do that to ourselves when we do not make enough room for Christ to carry those burdens with us.
Imagine a long wooden beam across your shoulders.  You are carrying it - heavy, weighed down.  Next to you on either side are all the things you are attached to, all the things that clutter up your life: unhealthy relationships, mass media, love of money, greed, vanity, gossip, idleness, pride, laziness, a desire to have "things" you don't really need, compulsions, tendencies towards uncharitable words or thoughts...the list goes on.  You're surrounded!  Now, what if you were to start to remove some of these walking companions?  What if you were to purge from your life unhealthy relationships? Vain attachments? Laziness?  As these things begin to fall away from you, you suddenly have more room next to you.  Who do you think steps in to help carry your load?  The Master.

But you are still dragging along with you some of those clinging attachments, some of those disordered tendencies.  Christ can only carry the edge of the beam and it still feels a bit heavy.  What to do?  Yes, detach yourself some more.  The more you are able to detach yourself from the things of this world the more room you make for Christ to come in and take your burden, until you and He are so close that you can't even feel the weight of the beam anymore.  The beam is still there, but you are no longer carrying the weight of it; because you have made room for The Master.

This is what Lent does for us.  It is what seasons of pruning do for us.  It is what we are called to over and over again.  Living a life fixed on Heaven is living a life of perseverance. We must constantly allow ourselves to be worked on, to be pruned.  Constantly checking those "walking companions" and making sure we make room for the Only Companion that matters.

I leave you with these musings on the eve of Shrove Tuesday as we all prepare for a season of expectant sacrifice.  I pray that you will enter this Lent with the thought of what it is you are about to gain, and not what you are about lose.

And as an aside, thank you for reading.  Writing helps me to make sense of things. It helps me to process and to articulate what my heart is trying to tell my head.  It humbles me that others would want to read these bumbling attempts of mine to articulate the awesomeness of the love of our God and the privilege that it is to serve Him.

Peace!

Prayer for Invisibility

Sometimes I am so struck by the reality of my own nothingness I feel ashamed to have thought that I was ever anything more. Dear Lord, give me the Grace of Invisibility and may all Glory go to Him who is All that Is.

Pope Francis is Not Marxist: A Response to Response to Rush

I don't often post links here, however, I wrote about Rush Limbaugh accusing Pope Francis of being a Marxist on my other blog, so I wanted to give you fine readers and followers the chance to read it.

So here is the link to "A Response to Rush Limbaugh."  Or, in other words, "Why Pope Francis is NOT a Marxist.

Enjoy!

Home Sweet Home

I would like to tell you a story.  Its a true story.  About our home.  Now this may sound boring to you, however if you have read any of the other stories on this blog you'd know that our lives are anything BUT boring.

Five years ago my husband was being honorably discharged from the Marine Corps after serving two enlistments (that's 8 years for you civilians out there).  We were living on a military base at the time, and of course had to move as you don't get to live on a base or post as an enlisted (ahem, not officer) service-member unless you are active duty.  The trouble was we had no idea when or where we would  move.  We new God was telling us our time as a military family was up, but He was keeping us in the dark about the rest!

We eventually discerned that we were to move to the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia.  Through a series of what some would call random, but what we knew to be Providential events my husband became the Executive Director of a non-profit that had stalled and was charged with resurrecting it.  This at least provided us with some sort of income potential (though it wasn't enough to really live off of).  We knew that we were eligible for benefits from the Veterans Association upon discharge so we were planning to use that as rent to get us on our civilian feet.

As the days wound down and "moving day" approached, we STILL had no house to move to!  We were praying, trusting, and feeling a bit like Shadrach, Mishaq, and Abednego in the fiery furnace!  Finally the day before we were to move out (we had the boxes packed and the u-Haul ready!) we took a last-ditch, Hail Mary trip to the area the non-profit was to be located.  We were shown a few dirty, broken down apartments that we knew we could not raise 4 children in (I was pregnant with our fourth at the time).  We walked back to our car confounded.  What were we to do!?

My husband sat behind the wheel and prayed aloud to St. Joseph. He asked God to show us.  Right in front of us was a Realtor's Office.  We looked at each other.  Why not!?

We entered the office and my husband explained the situation to a wonderful Realtor while I entertained our bored but very patient children.  The next thing I knew we were being shown 3 different homes - a single family home with a yard, a townhome, and an apartment.  All were just in our rental budget, all were move-in ready, and they were in the perfect location.  My husband and I discussed it.  We told the realtor that the single family home with a fenced in yard was perfect.  He contacted the landlords.  We sat in his office for a few hours while the details were worked out.  We faxed over an application, made phone calls and wrote a letter explaining how we would be able to pay rent every month.  The lovely realtor told us he would call us as soon as he heard from them.

We began the 2 hour drive back to the base.  Praying and trusting.  At 10pm the Realtor called. He said the landlords had agreed and would meet us at the house the next day to finalize paper work and give us the keys! We had a home!

We moved in the next day! God came through - and in truly Divine fashion, He showed off a bit - giving me some very obvious signal graces that led me to not doubt for a moment that He had orchestrated everything.

That was five years ago.

Now, we are still living in the same house, except we OWN it! No less than another miracle, I assure you. Our former landlords said initially that they weren't interested in selling. Well, after 5 years, their minds changed!  The offered to sell us the house for an INSANELY low amount!  Well below market value. We were told we had to either buy it or move as they are trying to streamline their lives a bit and didn't want to be landlords anymore. We had no idea how we would be able to buy a house!  We had declared bankruptcy 4 years earlier when the NonProfit that hired my husband cut costs by letting him go, and then the economy crashed around us. Yet, we stepped out in faith and, not knowing anything about buying a home, with my credit in the gutter (almost dying is VERY expensive - I am still paying medical bills!) we kept trusting and putting one foot in front of the other.

For reasons beyond understanding, we were approved again and again. Inspections, applications, loan officers, etc.  Every time we got through another approval my husband and I would look at each other confounded.  We closed on the house in July.  It is ours.  We never intended to be homeowners at this moment in time, but God had other plans.

In fact His plans have now placed us in a situation that we could have NEVER imagined.  As more and more people are going on public assistance, as more and more cant find work, as ObamaCare is destroying income, we are stable, we are somehow isolated from it. As if we are in a bubble of protection that is sheltering us.  We got OFF public assistance, we, for the first time ever, have enough to live off of, we are finally able to pay the long over due medical bills that I accrued after all our losses.  My husband is moving up in his job into management.  His company has done so well even during the horrid economic slide that it isn't changing insurance policies! None of this is our doing, none of it we could have foreseen.  It is simply a result of following along one step at a time, the path that God placed before us.

If I had to guess, I would say that Mary is quietly behind it all.  Protecting her children.  Mary has more and more (especially since after Lolek's death) been calling us to trust her motherhood.  When I was little I remember reading messages that she gave to different people - Fr. Gobi, Garabandal, Fatima.  One thing stood out.  She said those consecrated to her, those who place themselves beneath her mantle of Motherly protection, will be taken care of.  She will watch over and protect them.  As I write this post I cant help but remember that promise.  I see firsthand how she has kept it. I see how abandonment to God and trust in His Mother's intercession has kept us from experiencing so much.  Sure, we've had our sufferings, and yes, out share of pain and loss.  But those losses, those sufferings those crosses, they all had a purpose. Drawing us to deeper trust, to deeper conversion, to a deeper faith so that we may more boldly walk forward amidst all that is going on around us, confident in the Love that Our Father has for us and in His Mercy and Providence.

I don't know what the future holds. I have stopped trying to figure that out. I do know, that right now, I sit here in my slightly messy, "just the right size for us" house and I am confident that whatever it holds God will be in control and we will continue to Trust Him and hold His Mother's Hand as she leads us ever closer to Him.

Sarah Therese

As any of you who have read this blog before probably know, I make many more re-birth announcements than I ever thought I would. 

Way back when I started this blog I thought I would chronicle fun and moving stories of how we were growing our family.  I never imagined it would turn out so differently, or that we would be growing our family - in Heaven.  Yet, here I am again, wanting to relate the blessed and sad, the death and Heavenly life of another precious little one who has gone Home to wait for us In Eternity. 

I realize that many of you didn't even know I was expecting again as we kept it quiet and were only just starting to tell people.   

It was another traumatic experience however I have so much peace. I want to, in a special way, thank St. Philomena for her intercession and I know she was close by me during this time. 

On Monday, June 10, 2013,  I started to think things weren't right with the baby (though I had a nagging intuition for a while before that). I went to the ER after experiencing some troubling cramps and asked my husband to prepare the kids just in case.  At the ER it was confirmed that there was no heartbeat or movement and that the baby had not developed much beyond 10 weeks.  ( I was technically 12 weeks on Monday).  I explained the situation to the ER doc and my past history.  He was the SAME ONE who gave me such a hard time when we lost Claire.  I prayed for him.  He was much mellower this time and didn't make any comments that were hurtful.  Thank you, God. 

The whole time I kept praying "I trust You.  I Trust You." and I asked Jesus to allow me to surrender to suffering that He may send.  St Philomena's intercession was very evident as she made it clear several weeks ago that she would like to be a special player in my family's journey towards Holiness.  (I have had  a devotion to her since I was in High School).  Unfortunately the doctors figured they knew better than I did so they sent me home.  I knew from past experience I had at least 12 hours before things would get more dicey so I went home at 1am.  The next morning I was up by 6am and calling my OB.  He had off that day and I was instructed by the staff to wait until Wednesday morning for a D & C.  I calmly explained that I had no reason to believe my body would wait that long.  (And honestly, a D & C, while safer for my condition, is not ideal as I prefer to baptize and anoint my children.)  I was told by an irate nurse to "just go back to the ER then."   I abandoned the situation to God, praying over and over "Jesus I surrender to You completely, take care of everything"   and I headed back to the ER.  My dear friend, you know her as "Doula-Bestie-Extraordinaire", who was with me for all the trauma with Lolek's loss (she was literally measuring cups of blood as I hemorrhaged) met me at the ER. By now I felt as though I was in early labor in earnest. 

Thankfully after about 2 hours in the waiting room a Tech-Assistant whom I had befriended last time I was in the ER (a few weeks ago for a suspected DVT - it was not! ) recognized me.  He came out to see why  I was there.  I explained the situation.  He disappeared and 5 minutes later returned with a wheelchair. "You shouldn't be out here" he said and he told me he found me a room with the "really good doctor who listens."  What a blessing!!!  He was right too.  She (the doctor) is the first who has EVER listened and grasped my situation.  After explaining everything to her she responded by saying, "There is no way I can send you home."  I was so relieved I thanked her for understanding and for listening to me and burst into tears. 

She arranged with the OB on call to find me a room for observation to stay in until the scheduled surgery, should I somehow make it that long.  I waited for 13 hours (DBE and I managed to find creative ways to entertain ourselves!)  in the ER before a room on the pre-surgical unit was secured.  They gave me morphine which slowed the progression of labor.  I was of course not allowed to eat but I snuck some water.  At 9pm I was moved to the pre-surgical unit for "observation."  I explained to the nurse what to expect and let her know that I was progressing more rapidly and doubted I'd make it to the morning.  She looked slightly concerned as she wasn't an L & D nurse and had limited mother/baby experience.  By 1am I was extremely uncomfortable.  I decided worrying was useless and once again abandoned the situation to God.  I was prepared to deliver my baby, I had all my baptismal supplies and a small box for her body.  But if God so chose, I was ready for the D & C and would be at peace with it.  I Trusted His Providence.  I was able to sleep for half an hour.  Then my water broke and I knew what was to come. 

I will spare you the gory details.  Lets just say, I delivered Sarah's tiny perfect body.  Baptized and anointed her.  Kissed her and held her.  Then carefully, Doula-Bestie placed her in the little box.  Being the amazing Doula and friend that she is, she had spent the night with me. She donned gloves and prepared for the worst, which very shortly followed.  I talked the shell shocked nurse through what to do. (how many chux pads to get, what to expect, how I needed to be upright, that I would need a bag of fluid to help my BP and heart rate as I was already mildly tachycardic...   I hemorrhaged badly, as I expected.  I of course retained the placenta.  After a very short amount of time the nurse and the tech realized  I wasn't exaggerating about what I told them to expect and how bad it would get quickly.  They had to call the OB on call 3 times before they convinced him I didn't need to be "observed" and that I would in fact bleed to death unless he came in for an emergency D & C.  So after an hour I was finally brought down to the OR for the procedure. 

I am glad to say I retained my sense of humor through it all, and managed to make the nervous nurse and

tech laugh.  The nurse thanked me for "teaching her so much" and explained that she had no experience with "mother-baby" emergencies as she mostly dealt with patients who were there for bariatric surgery or occasionally a heart procedure.  Rarely did she get "real emergencies" like me.  I of course mashed on my uterus the entire time, knowing it would at least help with the clotting and hemorrhaging, and remembering that it also helps me to not pass out.  I am infinitely thankful for "DBE" who was helping with everything and helped to explain to the nurses what my situation was - as she witnessed it all first hand and close up the last time.  (But this time she could at least wear gloves and didn't have to call 9-1-1, I was already in the hospital!)

Eventually I was prepped and the anesthesiologist satisfied.  The OB showed up, I explained I had retained the placenta and would continue to hemorrhage.  I reminded them that I could not have Pitocin as it increased blood clot risk and asked to be given lovenox or heparin immediately following the surgery to prevent another PE.  They agreed. 

What happened next was quite a remarkable and blessed experience for me.  

All day I had been praying the Stations of the cross.  I love them.  I was wheeled into the OR but not put under immediately.  Instead, for some reason they prepped me while I was awake.  I was laid on the operating table, my arms were stretched out to either side and strapped down. I was strapped to the table.  My legs were stretched out in front of me.  I was unable to mash my uterus and felt myself bleeding even more uncontrollably.  I was in so much physical pain.  And then they removed my gown to put on all the monitors.  I lay there, in the shape of a cross, bleeding, naked, and in pain.  I was so moved all I could pray was "Thank you."  Finally they brought the anesthesia over and I was put to sleep.  Is it possible to be facing ones mortality (yet again!) and yet feel privileged?  Because in that moment, as crazy as it sounds, that is what I felt. 

When it was all over I was given my lovenox, it was confirmed I had retained the placenta.  I was eventually brought back  upstairs.  I slept a little and woke up to call the Funeral Home. I was able to sleep holding Sarah's box.  I made sure to keep her body moist.  The wonderful Funeral director came to take her body and I spoke with him for a while.  He has managed all our babies' burial services and is so kind and compassionate.  I cried healthy, sad tears of finality as I handed her to him and he and his wife left my room.  

I am now home recovering.  I am more sore and in more pain now, as I am experiencing the effects of the surgery -  they seem to have positioned my legs badly and I have torn and pulled muscled in my thighs and bruises on my arms where they strapped me too tight.  I have shortness of breathe upon walking even a few steps, and dizziness which will wane as I build back my blood supply.  After having not eaten for 36 hours I am gaining my appetite back.  I am very pleased to say it has been 48 hours post hemorrhage and I have not thrown a clot.  I thank God and St Philomena for her intercession!

I  feel as though I should be falling apart.  But I am not.  I recognize that I miss my baby and have moments of healthy grief over my loss.  But early on in the pregnancy it occurred to me that I should not pray for her to be allowed to be born full term and alive, especially if that is not what God had planned for her.  Who am I to deny any of my children Heaven?! So instead I prayed that God's Will be accomplished and that I be given the Grace to accept it, whatever it would be.  I believe He answered those prayers tenfold. 

I can see His Hand at work in all the circumstances surrounding Sarah's delivery and death, and in the way I was allowed to suffer, without the fear I thought I would face.  

I am human, and find myself battling fear of another Pulmonary Embolism every so often, and dealing with some hormone-induced anxiety whenever I get short of breathe, but that is nothing compared to what I think many people expect me to me experiencing.  (and after my PE I have found that a level of anxiety associated with symptoms and past experiences is normal.  So I can recognize it for what it is and move on).

I can only attribute it to God's goodness and His Mercy and to St Philomena's help and I praise God for His goodness. 

Some links you may find of interest after reading this story: 

St. Philomena - story and devotion 

Novena of Surrender to the Will of God

Where all our babies' Names are inscribed - The Book of Life

Some Thoughts About Mary

"May is the month of our mothers."  I remember reading this when I was in First Grade, right before our First Friday Mass for the month of May began.  I had been practicing for weeks.  I was the student who was chosen to read the before-Mass meditation.  Every year it was the same, "May is the Month of our Mothers."   Every May this same sentence runs through my head.  So I figure its an appropriate time to write a bit about Mary.

I've had two rather profound (if I do say so myself) thoughts about the Blessed Mother that I shall share for your own discernment and prayer.

Mary, until lately has been difficult for me to relate to.  Until my rather dramatic experience when she truly became my Heavenly Mother I honestly didn't even much try to understand her.  It was losing Claire and then losing Lolek that really brought me into a much deeper relationship with her, and has given me a much greater understanding of her.  I was pondering Mary once again as I was praying last night.  I was recalling how whenever I am pregnant (which if you read this blog you know is actually quite often!) I start to feel distant from Mary.  I began to prayerfully explore this.  Then it was as if a veil was lifted and I was given such a profound understanding - one I had never had before!  I realized that pregnancy always made me feel distant from Mary because, according to St Bridget and to theologians, Mary did not experience your "typical" pregnancy.  Being free from original sin, she therefore did not experience the physical effects of it - such as the pain in childbearing etc.  In fact according to the Revelations of St. Bridget, Mary was basically in prayerful ecstasy when she delivered the Christ-Child.  This is NOT my experience of childbirth!  But Mary DID experience something far more profound.  In my prayer I saw Mary at the cross.  She was in pain. She was uniting her will to God's but she was in profound pain, "And a sword shall pierce your heart."  She was at the foot of the Cross looking up at Her Son.  She had just walked the Way of the Cross with Him and now she was surrendering Him to the Father.  "My child, I have labored and I have given birth to my Son who is now to enter Eternity." She said from the foot of the cross.  Of course!! Mary's life was one long "labor."

Often I have thought how labor and delivery so closely mirror the Paschal Mystery - the suffering, the dying to self, and the birth of a New Life.  Mary's whole life was the Paschal Mystery.  The Word became Flesh within her womb and she delivered the Savior.  She was told at the Temple that a "Sword would pierce her heart" and she carried with her for Jesus' whole life the knowledge that she wold suffer as she watched and loved her Son as He Redeemed the world.  Mary's whole life was about giving birth to our Salvation - not just at Christmas, but at the Cross.  What a profound insight! What a gift!  How incredibly small and insignificant my labors seem in comparison now.  What is a few hours compared to 33 years!?  I am in awe of our Lady.  I am humbled by this new understanding.

This new understanding and deeper regard for Our Lady came on the heels of yet another revelation about our Blessed Mother.

I have been earnestly walking down the prayerful road of Contemplative Prayer.  I have been reading St. John of the Cross and St. Theresa of Avila, and a book by Fr.  Dubay on Contemplative prayer.  It has been amazing and beautiful.  But I was stumped when it came to Mary.  Neither St. John nor St. Theresa really mentioned her.  Yet, Pope John Paul II, who is considered a great modern contemplative had a deep devotion to her, so I knew she had to fit in somewhere.  But how?

So I brought it my Spiritual Papa, Bl. John Paul II, and asked for his wisdom.  "Mary is the exemplary contemplative."  Umm..OK... but how?  "The indwelling of the Trinity was not only Spiritual for her, but physical."  Of course!  **Lightbulb**  That makes sense! Why didn't I think of that!?

Contemplative prayer is all about the union of the soul with the indwelling Trinity, a unity so profound it is as if there is a flow - a conduit open between the two.  It is a connection at once to Heaven, where the soul exists both within the person and yet in Heavenly reality, united with God.  Mary experienced this in the most physically profound way possible. Not only her soul, but her whole being was connected to the Godhead as Christ was growing within her.  Mary needed only to contemplate the baby she carried - as every mother does - and as she did she was at once united with Heaven in a deep and mysterious way.

This was a beautiful new understanding for me to ponder. It also gives me a different way in which to enter into contemplation.  How much practice my babies have given me already! Any mother can tell you that as soon as you see those pink or blue lines on the stick your very reality is changed forever.  You are constantly aware of a person inside you, that your body is not the same, and that you are not alone.  How similar this is to contemplative prayer - to being united with God even as you go about every day life.

 How thankful I am to Our Lady for allowing me to better understand her, and how grateful I am to Papa John Paul II for patiently teaching me about our Heavenly Mother.

I hope that maybe these small, humble insights will bring you closer to our Heavenly Family as well.

My Amazing, Crazy, Unpredictable, Blessed Life

It occurred to me that many of my posts have been about the crosses and sufferings that God has seen fit to send me.  I want you, happy reader, to get a fuller picture.  Yes, I have had what some would call "great suffering."  Yes, I have lost four babies, and buried two of them.  Yes I almost died.  Yes we have had our share of hard times, "for worses" and difficulties. Yes we are often times scraping bottom and relying on God to provide for us.  But there is SO much more.

My life is amazing.

I am extremely blessed to have no regrets.  OK, that's not entirely true.  I have one regret.  When I was to attend the Marine Corps Ball my dad and brother dropped me off.  They wanted to see the Marines.  I was in a silly state of mind - nervous and excited - and I did not pay attention to them.  I didn't realize that they were going to come into the hotel where the ball was held, and I went in ahead of them.  Then when I realized they were there and looking for me, I was already inside and being swept along into the ballroom.  I feel as though I ignored them and hope that I did not hurt my dad's feelings.  The thought of hurting his feelings makes me want to cry.

That's it. That's my regret.  Seriously. I have lived on this earth for about 30 years and I have one regret.

I have often made decisions that have bewildered friends and family.  Sometimes they didn't seem to make sense.  But I do not regret them. Quite the contrary.  I have lived my life - my whole life - as far back as I can remember - with the conviction that God loved me so much that He would show me how to live and what He made me for.  So when I felt He was leading me, I went.  No I ran. And I never looked back.  I prayed my way through school, through college, and into my vocation.  When I wasn't sure what God was asking of me I asked and asked and asked until I was certain.  Then I did it.  
Living like this didn't always make "sense" but to me it has never mattered. God points, I go.  And its an adventure!

I am so blessed to be able to to say that in living for Him and following Him, I have had the privilege of not only serving, but also living with women who faced a pregnancy crisis and their babies.  I have run retreats, and workshops in different states and Canada.  I have met members of the Curia, three, four and five star Generals and the Commandant of the Marine Corps.

I have given talks and speeches. Wined, dined, and rubbed elbows with Congressman and Senators and Governors.  I have ridden freight elevators with Presidential Candidates, have contacts in Government agencies, influenced the political process, drafted legislation, met and worked with amazing, dedicated people from across the country, and across the Atlantic.  I have become a respected Conservative Political Consultant, with a modest name ID.

I have been in the presence of Blessed John Paul II not once, but twice, stood in the Portiuncula in Assisi, and in the catacombs of Rome.  I have met priests and bishops from across the continent, and sisters from around the world.  I have had the ear of Bishops, the friendship of Theologians.  I have dined and relaxed with actors and actresses, celebrities, and celebrated personalities in the Pro-Life world.  I have been honored with recognition and thanks.

I have a husband who is in so many ways my hero.  He has overcome so very much, and is working so hard to be the man God created him to be.  It is a wild and crazy and blessed privileged to be along on the journey.

I have had four amazing, natural, midwife attended births - one of them at home.  I am proud of my femininity and my ability to  nurture New Life. I have 4 beautiful, wonderful, smart and confident children on earth.  I am able to homeschool them and watch them grow.  I have four darling intercessors in Heaven, my little ones who went Home to stretch our family into Eternity.  It is an honor to be the mother of saints.

I have traveled to the Caribbean, to Europe, and to Canada.  I have seen beauty in the mountains  the oceans, and the farmland.  I see God's artwork in the sky.  I have witnessed miracles and seen God's healing first hand.

I have the most incredible family and friends.

None of this I asked for.  None of it I sought.  It is purely and simply the result of following God, one leap of faith after another, where He would have me go and doing what He would have me do.

This life isn't easy. You've probably read enough of my posts to know that its sure has had its crosses and sufferings.  But it is still amazing.  Without the crosses and sufferings, I wouldn't be who I am today, nor would I have the relationship with Christ that I do today.  Following Him is an adventure - full of twists and turns and surprises.  It is not always easy, sometimes it hurts, but its always amazing, crazy, unpredictable, and blessed.

Here We Go Again - Bing Mary

When I first started this blog I was newly pregnant with Claire. I thought I would happily blog about the joys and trials of pregnancy and then about the adventure of having 5 and hopefully more children.  I was blissfully ignorant of the world of infant loss and miscarriage and naively assumed since my first 4 pregnancies were uneventful that all mine would be.  Boy was I wrong.

At that time my biggest fear in life was miscarriage.  I didn't know how anyone survived it.  Then Claire died and I learned that I was strong enough to hold my tiny baby in my hands and attend her burial service.  Then I figured she was my "1 in 5" - one in every five pregnancies statistically ends in miscarriage.  I felt relieved that I'd "never have to go through that again."  Until Francis.  He taught me that nothing was certain and that all life, even if very brief, is a gift to be thankful for, and that blessings can come in very unexpected ways.  I secretly hoped I was done with loss and pondered how "those women" - the ones with multiple losses - endure.  I pondered this until Lolek's death and all that I went through facing my own mortality squarely in the face.  Losing Lolek taught me how to surrender and quite simply changed the paradigm through which I view life, faith, prayer, and God's Will.

Imagine then how it felt to find out that despite doing everything spot on perfect as far as NFP and avoiding pregnancy goes, I felt when that faint blue line showed up on the EPT.  Thy Will be Done!  That was the prayer for the little one whom we named "Baby Bing."  Thy Will be Done.  Not please let this one live, or don't make me go through another loss again, nor I'll name the baby after a really cool saint if he or she can just live, or even, I've had enough suffering, God, can You please just let this be normal?  Simply Thy Will be Done, often with an added, and please help me be surrendered to Your Will, and only content to know that whatever comes of me or this pregnancy is what You want for my own sanctification. There is freedom in praying that way, and it took quite an ordeal to teach it to me.  I was happy and content to be pregnant again.

Of course it wasn't a piece of cake.  Thanks to Lolek and my subsequent PE I immediately needed to start injections (self administered) of blood thinners.  I couldn't use my beloved midwives and instead needed to use not only an OB/GYN but also a hematologist and internal medicine doctor  as well.  This is quite a sacrifice for a girl who does not like doctors (no offense - there are some fantastic ones!) and who thinks birth is a natural, normal event not usually requiring medical intervention.  Well, unfortunately I am the exception to that rule.  So it was off to the races and blood draws and early ultrasounds and doctor after doctor.

Through it all I made sure to make memories with this baby.  I didn't know how long I had with him under my heart, so I made a point to consciously make memories.  Bing and I did Christmas shopping together.  We spent Advent together, he was with us on our family outing to "Bethlehem" and the live Nativity.  I am so thankful that we made these memories because it was at one of the ultrasounds that it was determined that Baby Bing was not growing.  In fact he barely made it beyond implantation.   Bing was conceived and lived long enough to begin the whole process of developing what would be his gestational sac and placenta but he ceased to develop.  God wanted another soul.  This is called a "blighted ovum" in medical terms.  My body recognized pregnancy and since the sac continued to develop I endured 10 weeks of pregnancy and all the wonderful puking, nauseated, hormonal bliss associated with it.

Since I have a a very well documented history of almost dying after a loss I was advised to go for a D & C.  I was hesitant at first, wanting to make absolutely certain that a teeny baby wasn't "hiding."  (In early ultrasounds it IS possible to receive a blighted Ovum diagnosis only to see a baby a week or two later.  From my research this seems to happen about 40-50% of time depending on the date of the "diagnosing" ultrasound.)  After confirming that there was no longer a baby, and that the sac was losing its integrity, I agreed to do a D & C.  There was no baby to bury and I was hoping it might avoid some of the drama I had experienced in the past. Unfortunately that wasn't entirely the case.  Drama seems to be a specialty of mine.

While waiting to hear from the OB to schedule the procedure I cracked a tooth and needed emergency root canal surgery.  While in the endontist's chair, after having my mouth numbed and all the scary stuff that was to somehow fit in my mouth explained to me, I started cramping.  I excused myself and went to restroom.  Yes.  My body was beginning its miscarriage "labor."  I got myself as ready as possible and hurried back to the dentist's chair.  They continued with the root canal while I silently counted how long the contraction cramps lasted and prayed I wouldn't hemorrhage in his chair.  (Hemorrhaging is a specialty of mine.)  As soon as he was done (it took longer than planned as there were some complications - of course) I called my OB who wasn't there. So I headed to the ER as per her earlier instructions.  Once there I spoke with the OB who was filling in for her.  He did not understand, nor try to understand, my "special" circumstances and sent me home.  So I went to a different ER.  They were fantastic and understood right away why I was there.  They didn't want to have me come in after it was too late and need a transfusion (been there, done that!).  The magnificent doctor was prepping me for an emergency D & C.  Except it was midnight and the OB on call didn't want to come in.  In fact, he (or she) refused.  The ER doc valiantly tried to convince them otherwise.  To no end.  His hands were tied.  He was so frustrated and truly was concerned for my health.  "I don't want to see you back in here in an hour or two needing bags of blood."  I was grateful that he understood my situation.  But I had to leave.  I was scared.

I managed a few hours of sleep and called my OB's office as soon as it opened.  Thankfully she was back.  "Go to the ER NOW."  Were my instructions.  I refrained from grumbling "I tried that already!"  Doula Bestie Extraordinairre, who had spent the night with me in the second ER met me at my OB's hospital.  It was very nice.  They "got it."  They understood.  They knew exactly why I was there and why I should not be allowed to miscarry at home.  I felt better.  The ER doc dispensed with what he called "unnecessary exams" and got right to the point.  "No use waiting, we need to get you on the OR schedule and get your OB over here.  I'm on it!"  and he literally bounced out the door.  From then on they all knew I was a ticking time bomb.

The funny thing about miscarriage is that despite what doctors tell you, its childbirth. You have contractions, your body follows the same pattern it would if you were laboring to give birth to a healthy full term baby.  Everyone expects tons of blood and guts but that doesn't happen until your body is actually expelling the contents of the uterus  - and if your baby was far enough long, you will birth the baby first and then the rest - just like normal, healthy, childbirth.  Before that you will generally lose your mucus plug, then perhaps spot. But not much more.  Unfortunately its been my experience that miscarriage and second trimester loss contraction cramps are WORSE than the ones I endured giving birth to my live children.

I was offered pain meds.  They made me loopy and able to ignore the pain, but they didn't stop the pain.  The day wore on.  I hadn't eaten since 2pm the day before.  The contraction cramps were getting closer together and more intense.  Doula Bestie was keeping an eye on me. Eventually I was transferred to the pre-Op area and prepped for the procedure.  The contractions were right on top of one another.  It was a race against time, and if time ran out, well at least I was in a hospital   I knew what would happen - and it would not be pretty.  I was terrified of hemorrhaging.  Terrified.  I tried to pray Thy Will be Done, but its hard when you're scared.  And I was scared.  Eventually I gave up.  Hold my hand, Mama I prayed in my head. The last time I had been in the hospital Mary truly became my mother, and she helped me surrender.  I knew she could do it again.  I was increasingly uncomfortable - no rest or relief between contractions.  Then the hot and cold flashes started.  I denied to myself that I was in transition.  Then I hiccuped and Doula Bestie said, I bet you're in transition   (She's good) and I continued to deny it  - which of course if what every childbirth educator worth her salt will tell you is "self doubt" - a sure sign of transition.  So I denied that too.  Despite my valiant attempts at denial (I do that during all my births) I knew I was really up against the clock.  I fought the fear.  I needed to surrender it.  I didn't want to. (Why didn't I learn this lesson well enough the first time around!?)  The anesthesiologists were coming.  Whew.  I began to think I made it just under the gun. And then it happened.  The hemorrhaging started.  The anesthesiologists were at my room and there I was, losing it - in every way possible.  I started shaking and burst into tears.  Poor Doula Bestie leaped into action.  She worked to calm me down, and explained to the bewildered and startled anesthesiology team why I was freaking out and bleeding everywhere.  They got a move on.  One gave me a tranquilizer which I think was actually the sedative because things got fuzzy pretty quickly after that.  "Let's get you into the OR right now and take care of this" said another.  Doula Bestie whispered everything would fine and I finally surrendered. I could feel myself continuing to hemorrhage as they wheeled me down the hallway.  "Ok, Mama, He wins." I thought to myself.  "I get it now."

And then I woke up.

Groggy in post-op.  I blinked.  I didn't really remember anything except random faces in the OR, bright lights and an oxygen mask.  That was it.  I noticed that my hair had been taken down and arranged nicely around me on the pillow.  I was nauseated and had a massive headache, but I wasn't bleeding profusely.  I was on my second bag of pitocin and I could feel it working its magic.  It was over.

I learned an important lesson thanks to Bing. Surrender means that you must surrender even your fear.  And that new fears need to be identified and surrendered too. Fear prevents you from accepting God's Will.  I had much peace during the short time I had with Bing and that was because I was actively seeking abandonment to God's Will and total surrender.  When I had to face my biggest fear, and probably the only one I had left, I was paralyzed.  I was too afraid to Trust God fully.  So I turned to His Mother.  She got me there.  But He first allowed me to experience the very thing of which I was most afraid - because I needed to learn that I must surrender even my fear and my emotional wounds to Him.  It was a powerful lesson, and one I can say that I am thankful for.

The kids asked to name the baby "Bing Mary" and I couldn't argue it.  Somehow it fits.  He will have a place in our family just like the brothers and sister who preceded him into Eternity.  I miss him.  I wanted to hold him.  I wanted to watch him grow and learn and change and to see the person he was to become.  My heart grieves for his loss, even as I can have peace knowing that God had other plans, and His plans, though mysterious, are perfect.

I miss baby Bing, as I miss all my children who have been privileged to look on the majesty of God's Face before me.  I realize I am one of "those women" now  - the very ones I was afraid of becoming- the ones who have endured loss after loss.  And somehow I can find peace with it.  Somehow, and it is only through the Grace of God, I know that I am and will continue to be OK, even if I must face more losses in the future.  I know now that nothing is outside of His Will and that He works for our good, and in the future, I will heed the lessons my teeny baby taught me - to surrender fully to His loving and perfect Will - no matter what.

'Tis the Season

Its that time again! Time for the obligatory Advent post! No seriously folks, I have some things I have been pondering this Advent so far and wanted to share.  I have been pondering Christmas Decorations. The outside ones.  No no no, wait, I know what you're thinking, Gee Laura, that's really profound..NOT!  Just hear me out.

For me, its all about context.  You can argue over whether or not Santa comes to your house, Baby Jesus leaves presents, or the Three Wise men bring three gifts and leave them under your tree, the point is that we give, we take joy in giving, and we receive joyfully.  In the right context this teaches us about God's Love for us - He freely gave us His only Son, and He chose to do so in a very human, intimate way.  Presents under the tree remind us that God's gift to us was free and mysterious, wonderful, anticipated, and yet a surprise.  The evergreen of the Tree symbolizes the never-endingness of God and His Love.  Advent decorations remind us of this special time of year and they help us wait with anticipation - just as the children of Israel did long ago.

Outside, traditionally, lights and ornaments literally "lit the way" for the Christ Child.  Outdoors the flickering candles gave way to colored lights and pretty white lights, but the concept of lighting the way for the Child Jesus to come to your home on Christmas remained.  Now, though....

Can anyone tell me what the heck an inflatable Santa in a BATHTUB has to do with ANYTHING?  I mean seriously, a bathtub.  On your front lawn.  With a presumably naked Santa sits. Happily. How in the world is that even Christmas-related!?  When did bathing on the front lawn cease to be creepy?  Especially in 30 degree weather? Especially for old, bearded men?  My friends, we have come a long way from lighting the way and waiting for Christ's birth.  For that matter, what does Santa opening the door of a trailer have to do with Christmas?  What about Hunting Santa - complete with shot gun and camp print suit?  (Yes this is another inflatable decoration I have seen with my own eyes!)  Did the designer forget that Santa owns...wait for it...REINDEER?  What did he do this year? Go all sportsman and shoot Rudolph?  If we put that thing in our yard my kids would be grief stricken - Santa with his own reindeer in his sights.   And don't even get me started on Outhouse Santa...(yep saw that one too.) What has this to do with Christmas!?

Courtesy of Lowes.com

Nothing. It has nothing to do with Christmas.  Its a gimmick, a marketing ploy, a funny (and tacky) lawn ornament that holds little meaning other than it may get a good laugh from childless neighbors.
It is a symptom of a dumbing down of Christmas.  A move to replace what Christmas is really about with commercialism, adult humor, and secularism.  I mean why put up an outdoor Nativity when you can have Santa in a bathtub, a giraffe wearing a Santa hat, and light up palm trees instead!  All while your house blinks in every color of the spectrum to loud rock music! Now THAT'S Christmasee.

I'm not down on Christmas lights or decorations. Don't get me wrong.  We have one of our trees outside wrapped in colored lights and some lights in the windows.  Decorations, twinkling lights, they add to the mysterious wonder of Christmastime.  This isn't bad.  The wonder, the "magic" of Christmas helps us to somehow grasp the wonder and mystery of God-made-man.  Its why I encourage our children to experience the wonder and joy and "magicalness" of the season.  Someday they will be better able to grasp God's majesty, mystery and awesomeness because I have let them have a taste of it in a way they can grasp.  But garish blow up lawn ornaments and lights blinking so fast they cause passing motorists seizures isn't part of the program.  No thanks.  I'll keep our Christmas in context.  After all, if it doesn't somehow point back to Christ's Birth, and God's amazing and Mysterious Love for us, what is the point of it all anyway?

And that my friends, is my Advent Rant!

Happy Advent and Merry Christmas!