Motherhood and Family Life

    Hope for the Future: A Blog Hop on Post-Partum Depression and Anxiety

    Today I am honored to be joined by some immensely talented ladies (who also happen to be among my favorite bloggers) to commemorate May as Maternal Mental Health Month.  We all wanted to come together to provide a resource for women to read the stories of multiple catholic mothers who are having to bear the difficult crosses of depression and anxiety, both to provide support for those who are struggling with them, and to raise awareness on the topic for those who have not personally experienced it.  

    Hope for the Future 2

    Photo courtesy of Fetsko Images

    Dear fellow suffering mother,

    I see you, forcing the smile as you hold your precious young child.  You were up in the wee hours of the night, putting the baby back to sleep again. Your exhaustion is palpable, your nerves racked, and your newly altered body a stranger to you.

    The sense of Isolation encloses you, trapping you in its prison.   You miss the company of other adults, but you are afraid to reach out for help.  In your mind all of your friends have their own problems to deal with.  You think to yourself, "I should be able to do this on my own.  This is my responsibility.  I just need to try harder, be stronger, and things will come together."  Except despite all or your best efforts, you aren't able to reach the goals you have set for yourself.  You decide to not leave the house until you get your act together.

    You spend immense amounts of time and energy, worrying about your baby's welfare, spending long sessions with "Dr. Google" trying to make sure that everything is normal.  Now that there is this magical invention of the internet, you think that if you just do enough research and work, you can be the perfect mother for your child.

    Any deviation from your predetermined philosophy of "THE ONLY RIGHT WAY TO PARENT," results in an internal barrage that you can't silence.  Inability to exclusively breastfeed your child?  He will grow up to have a whole assortment of difficulties from asthma to low IQ, and it is all your fault.  Baby wearing makes you claustrophobic?  Clearly you care more about your own anxieties than your baby's sense of security.  Or at least this is what you tell yourself as you lie awake, exhausted, but unable to sleep.

    You feel like you are walking on eggshells all the time, afraid that at any moment you might snap and release a barrage of tears or anger.

    And then panic attacks come.  You feel like you will die.  You feel your throat closing, dizzy from lack of oxygen, fearing the worst.

    Then there is the shame.  "Why do I feel like this?  I love my baby more than life, but I hate being a mother." You convince yourself that you can't tell anyone what you are feeling, for fear of judgement.

    Besides, surely this is just baby blues, you say to yourself, "I have no right to go get treatment when there are so many women who are surely suffering worse than I.  It is just a testament to how pathetic I am that I can not handle this with ease."

    Out of fear of suffering a stigma attached to a "maternal mental illness," you keep quiet.  You keep your head down and just try to survive each day.  Who knows what horrible things could happen if you reached out for help.  In your vivid imagination every scenario ends poorly.  They might put you on medication that makes you psychotic, or worse take your children away from you.

    Perhaps you even start to think that anyone else could do a better job as mother or wife.  You wonder if maybe your family would be better off without you . . .

    Stop.  Its not true.  I know, I have been there too.

    You are NOT a failure.  You are a beautiful, hardworking, loving mother, who is giving her all.  A mother who is suffering from an illness.  And it is NOT your fault.

    Despite what other's might say, you did not chose this.  This isn't some spiritual weakness that you can cure through more prayer.  Clinical depression is not despair, nor anxiety a lack of trust in God.  They are biological and psychological conditions, not something you are choosing to bring upon your family because you are "evil" or "weak."

    You bear a heavy cross.  Like all other crosses you didn't pick yours out nor can you choose when to put it down.  You are not weak for needing help.  Even Christ had help carrying His cross.

    Please don't make the mistake of thinking you are not deserving of receiving help! Don't prolong your suffering, thinking that these trials are just something that needs to be offered up.  Parenthood presents its own myriad set of challenges and trials for your sanctification, but this does not have to be one of them.  You deserve to be well again.

    I am not going to insult you by saying if you just do x, y, or z you will feel all better again.  Each person's situation is unique and deserves a custom approach to treatment.  Find a professional that you are comfortable with and they will be able to work with you to find the course of action that is the best fit for you.  Some people are able to find relief just by diet changes, or progesterone shots; others find therapy to be immensely helpful; others find that taking medication makes a world of a difference; still others do a combination of the above approaches.  Find what works best for you and don't let anyone shame you for how you choose to treat your illness.

    More than anything, I want you to know that you are not alone.  How I wish I could be sitting with you and talking about these things face to face, instead of separated by screens.  I wish I could be there in person to comfort and encourage you.  I don't pretend to have all, or even most of the answers.  Heck, I am still trying to navigate this myself.  But somehow these struggles become easier when they are shared together.

    You are not alone and you are not weak.  You are a fighter.  You are more than a fighter.  You are a mother.  That is the strongest synonym for brave that I can think of.

    Your Sister In Christ,

    Katherine

     

    Please take some time to check out what the other ladies participating in the blog hop have to say!  

    A Knotted Life

    Call Her Happy

    This Felicitous Life

    Mama Needs Coffee

    Check out That Sunset

    Please share this article with anyone you think it might help!

    Have you or someone you know ever suffered from depression or anxiety?  What was your experience like?  What did you learn through the process?

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    The Gift You Might Need This Mother's Day: Permission to Grieve

    Mother's DayI love the idea of Mother's Day: families taking time to honor those special women who have given so much of themselves. My own mother did so much for my siblings and I, that celebrating her generous love for only one day seems inadequate.

    For many people, mother's day can serve as a painful reminder of loss. Perhaps some will be mourning the passing of their mother or grandmother for the first (or even twentieth) time. In other cases, the day serves as a reminder of the child unable to join the celebration through death or separation. Some struggle as they mark another year childless. Maybe, most painfully of all, the day harbors the regret of motherhood lost through abortion, or childhood lost to abuse or neglect.

    It is at these times when presence and love are most anticipated and desired, that their absence is most keenly felt.

    This mother's day, perhaps the most important gift you can give yourself or a loved one is permission to grieve. No one wants to feel sad, especially on a day when happiness is expected, but feigned happiness is not very helpful in the long term.

    In order to deal with emotions properly you have to give yourself permission to recognize them, and accept that they are there for a time. It is so important not to shame yourself for what you are feeling. Telling yourself, "I shouldn't feel this way" does nothing to resolve the situation and only adds the burden of guilt. Find healthy ways to express these emotions, perhaps through writing a letter, creating a work of art, or talking with a loved one.

    Although I am blessed that my mother is still living, my husband is not so fortunate. Mother's Day has become one of the most difficult days of the year for him. A day when he needs to take time to grieve.

    I have to confess in years past, I was not very supportive of this. I didn't understand why he couldn't choose to focus on celebrating me as mother of our growing family and his grandmothers, both of whom are still living.

    Frankly, I was being selfish. He shows me in so many ways throughout the year how much he admires and respects all that I do as mother to our children - I was not in any way suffering from a lack of appreciation. I needed to recognize that he was unable to celebrate in the way that I expected and that he needed space to grieve. He needed me to take a step back and truly listen to what he was saying and give him the space to process all that he was feeling. Sometimes it is so difficult to show true compassion.

    Broken down into its roots, compassion literally means "to suffer with" someone. Often we focus on doing whatever we can to try to make a person feel better, when in fact what they really need is someone to suffer with them. Suffering alongside someone reveals great love and can foster deepened intimacy.

    One of the few good things about grief is that it is a sign of love. No one mourns what they are indifferent about.

    I hope that tomorrow is a day of joy and celebration for you and your loved ones. But if it is not, I hope that you are able to mark the day in a way that is full of peace and connection with the loved ones around you. Take time to enter into the day according to whatever season of life you are in. Allow yourself and other's to be fully present in whatever commemoration the current stage of life requires, even when that is out of step with others. As it says in Ecclesiastes 3:4, there is "a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance."

    This Mother's day, I pray that any sorrow you may experience can give way soon to a time of profound joy.

    P.S. Here are a few links to ideas that have been bouncing around in the back of my head, while writing this post:

    http://modernmrsdarcy.com/2014/04/my-view-from-saturday/

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    We're Baaaaaack: Lots of Exciting News to Explain My Absence

    Well howdy there.  Long time no see.  The past two and a half months have been quite eventful here.

    First up, just in case you haven't met your quota of geekiness for the day, may I present the following announcement:

    Star Trek Pregnancy Announcement

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    Yep, our family is about to boldly go into the new territory of having three kids.

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    Dear Anastasia: A Letter to My Daughter on 50 Shades of Grey

    Letter to Ana 3.0

    I have a custom of writing letters to my children when they are young.  In general, these letters are very personal and a gift that is only shared with the recipient.  Due to the alarming popularity of the "50 Shades of Grey" book and upcoming movie, I decided to make an exception in the case of this letter.  Please note that I have not read the book, nor do I ever intend to.  My understanding of it is derived from a fairly brief summary, and that degree of detail has proved more than sufficient for me.     

    My Dearest Anastasia,

    Hello, my daughter.  Right now you are just a baby sleeping on your father's lap, totally at peace in his arms.  Someday, though, you might be in another man's arms and I wanted to pass on a few suggestions for how to find someone worthy of that honor.

    You see, there is a book that is quite popular right now.  I won't bother to name it since I am sure that by the time you read this it will have long been forgotten.  This book tells the story of a young woman's sexual relationship with a sadistic man.  Normally, I don't give such filth a second thought, but while reading a critique of the book, I learned the young woman's name: Anastasia.

    Then the book changed.  Instead of seeing it as just another smutty story, it became personal.  It began to represent a future that I hope you will never have to experience.  It led me to think of some things to suggest for you to avoid in future relationships, as well as qualities to look for in a potential husband.

    First, if a man tries to control you or coerce you into being the perfect partner for him, run away from that relationship and don't look back.  Love isn't about controlling another person in order to maximize your own satisfaction.  It is about giving generously of yourself, and in so doing becoming who you were meant to be.  Love doesn't force another person to conform to his or her own standards of perfection, but rather provides gentle guidance in trying to become more like Christ.

    Another thing to beware of is a man who refers to virginity (either his or yours) as something to be taken or lost.  Virginity is a gift of oneself to another.  If any man talks of taking it or asks you to "lose" it to him, he does not understand the value of the gift you have to offer and is not properly disposed to receive it.

    From what I understand in the aforementioned book, the main male character requires Anastasia to sign a non-disclosure agreement so that his various sexual exploits will be kept confidential.  I presume he thinks that this will provide him with the means to engage in a more "liberating" sexual encounter.

    It should come as no surprise to you that your father and I have entered into a formal agreement of a sexual nature.  Ours goes something like this: "I take you to be my lawfully wedded spouse, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part."  It is only in this type of an agreement that one can experience the true freedom that comes from giving oneself to another completely and unreservedly for life.

    The reason that the male character desires Anastasia to sign the non-disclosure agreement is because he is a sadist.  He derives pleasure from causing her pain.  My daughter, I hope and pray that you will never find yourself in a relationship with such a man.  No matter how convincingly he may profess to love you, it is a lie.

    Love never finds pleasure from inflicting harm on the beloved.  There can be no true union of persons when one is using the other as an object to satisfy their lust.

    Some proponents of such a lifestyle argue that the pleasure doesn't come from the inflicting of pain, but from the trust that the victim places in the aggressor not to permanently injure or kill them.  At this point words fail me.  Hoping that the man who is abusing you for his own pleasure won't kill you hardly seems like trust to me.  Rather, true trust is pledging your life and your heart to another, come what may.

    Finally, my daughter, please know that no matter what choices or mistakes you may make, I will always love you.

    Nothing you can do or say could ever change my love for you.  If you ever want to talk about anything or need a safe place to run to, I will always be here for you.  Your father and I love you more than life itself, we would gladly die to save you.

    As much as we love you, there is one who loves you even more.  He has already died to save you.

    Should you ever fall, run back into His arms in the Sacrament of Confession.  It is there that He will hold you close to His pierced heart in the most loving of embraces.  If you ever need a model of true, selfless love, look to Him my daughter.

    In Him I Remain,

    Your Devoted Mother

    Do you ever write letters to your children?  What are some pieces of advice that you want to impart to them on the expression of love in a relationship?  What are your thoughts on the "50 Shades of Grey" saga?  

    Due to the nature of the post, I ask that all comments be kept discrete and charitable.  Thanks!

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    7 Things That Are Saving My Sanity Right Now

    7 Things that are Saving My Sanity

    Like most people, I have to fight the urge to complain.  When things get more and more difficult, I just want to vent about all of the things that make me feel like I am going to lose it big time.  

    Lately I have noticed something: venting doesn't help all that much.

    Now don't get me wrong, it is super important to have friends and family to confide your troubles to, that is healthy.  What I have found to be counterproductive for myself, however, is searching for opportunities to vent to my husband, or mentally writing Facebook posts (that I never publish) about how dang hard life is right now.   These type of mental habits are essentially negative feedback loops which are training my mind to be on the lookout for more things that suck, driving me even more nuts.

    Instead of building such negative mental habits, I would rather take inventory of the things that are saving my sanity right now.

    Reading: I've made no secret about it, I LOVE to read.  Immersing myself in a good story, or learning new things feeds my soul and recharges my batteries.  Fiction can offer a wonderful escape from the never ending dance of laundry, dishes, cleaning and diapers, while non-fiction can offer me tools to better understand the world and others.

    Writing:  Perhaps even more than reading, writing puts me in a state of flow where I am completely absorbed in the task at hand and deriving great enjoyment from it.  Shaping words and phrases, molding them into the form I desire, its rather like being a child at play, totally engrossed in their work.  I may not always like the end product, but the process is very relaxing.

    Side note: Does anyonelse have arguments with characters that they are creating in their heads?   I just started a short story yesterday, and one of the characters keeps being a real snot.  I keep scolding her, but unfortunately she don't seem to be listening. . . that's not how her character is supposed to play out!

    Prayer:  Though I haven't been doing enough of this as of late, it has helped immensely in calming anxieties.

    Babysitting:  My sister has been staying with us for the past few weeks.  It has been so nice to be able to do things like grocery shopping without two little ones in tow.  I swear they tag team sneaking things into my cart.  In addtion my husband has been watching the kids for an evening about once a week so I can get together with friends AND have conversations with complete sentances.  It has been wonderful.

    UPDATE: The kids and I have a GI bug today.  Help has been indispensible.  On that note, lets add disposable diapers to the list of things saving my sanity.

    Date Nights:  Man are these helpful!  I crumble quickly without enough time with my beloved.  It is hard to make the time for these, but man are they worth it!

    Counselling: This one can be embarassing to talk about, but I wanted to share in case it helped others get the push they needed to seek help.  About once a week I have been going to a counsellor for treatment of moderate chronic depression and a mild anxiety disorder.  For months I was too proud to seek help, thinking that because I haven't been through any huge trauma, that I should be able to handle my problems just fine.  I was wrong.

    At counselling I have been able to get an outsider's perspective, learn techniques for controlling my biological reactions, and work on changing the negative mental scripts that I have been using for years.  Slowly but surely, things are getting better.

    Friends:  I have been abundantly blessed with a group of close friends.  Most of us have few (if any) family members in the area and we have become each other's support network.  These are friends who know they can stop by whenever, to share a beer or glass of wine and just hangout.  They are ok with the toys strewn all over the floor and the half naked toddlers running around.  They even help me clean things up!  We can and do call each other when we need a hand, or emotional support.  I can't imagine life without them.

    Hat tip to Anne from ModernMrsDarcy.com for sharing the idea a few months back in her newsletter about looking for the things that are saving your sanity.  I had started writing this post back at the begining of the month.  I am glad I didn't finish it when I had planned, because Anne is hosting a linkup today for people to share what is saving their sanity right now.  Check out her post and the link-up at her blog!

     

    What is saving your life/sanity right now?  Tell me about it in the comments!

    Also, on a personal note, I would appreciate it if you could spare a prayer or two for me tomorrow.  I have a doctor's appointment where I will get some test results back; it is most likely nothing too serious, but the possibility of a thyroid tumor or Hashimoto's disease was mentioned at the last appointment.  Thanks!

     

     

     

     

     

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    "Am I Going to Die Mama?"

    That was the question that my almost three year old son asked me over breakfast this morning.  I paused for a moment, taken aback.

    "What makes you ask that, honey?" I said.

    "Am I going to die?" He responded, more insistently.

    "Yes, you are Sammy.  So am I. Every one dies at some point in their life."

    "Why?"

    "Well, honey, everyone is born with sin on their souls.  Do you remember Adam and Eve? Well, they disobeyed God, they told Him that they didn't want to serve Him.  They sinned and that sin has been spread to everyone in their family.  We are in their family.  Everyone you know is in there family, that is why people get sick and die."

    "Oh." he said, pondering what I had just told him.

    "What made you think about dying, Sammy?"

    "Because Mary told me, mama.  She asked me to be on the cross for a few minutes."

    At this point, I am completely taken aback. . . stuttering for words I ask him, "What was Mary like?"

    "Beautiful . . .she is like . . .  she is Jesus mommy."

    "Yes, she is."

    "Will, I die soon, moma?"

    "I don't know Sammy." I said fighting back tears.  "I am going to do everything I can to keep you healthy and happy.  I want us to have a long life together.  Sometimes accidents happen and people get really bad boo boos, or get really sick.  But do you know what?"

    "What?"

    "You have God in your soul right now.  When you were baptized, God came to live in you."

    "Fr. W-------- baptized me? And I have God in my soul?"

    "Yes, Sammy."

    "When I die Mary and Jesus will be there, she told me."

    "That would be very beautiful." I say, unable to stop the tears welling up in my eyes. "You don't have to be afraid."

    "Can I go play?"

    "Yes, baby, you can go play now."

    A moment later, I am standing in the kitchen.  Holding his sister close to my heart, feeling her head against my chest, tears roll down my face into the sink full of dirty dishes.

    I don't know if I have a toddler who is a little mystic, or just has a very active imagination.  But I do know that his words have reminded me that our time together is passing by.

    Some days, this whole motherhood thing seems like more of a cross than a blessing, though I suppose it is both.

    So often, I wish away my time with them, counting down the hours till bed time, or the years till they will be older and I will have more time for myself, to read, to write, and just sit and think in blissful silence.

    Then I realize it all could be gone in a flash.  I could have all the time in the world to spend on whatever pursuits I want, but instead will spend it longing for the blessings I currently enjoy.

    Our time together is precious.  And exhausting.  But it is so worth it all.

    And so, for the rest of the day I choose to live in the moment, and savor the giggles and smiles, and drink in the excitement and energy that these little ones exude.  And I am grateful and happy, just to have another day to be their mama.

    photo (14)

     

     

    Have you ever had an experience of realizing you could loose someone you love and it makes you realize how grateful you are to have them in your life?  Have you kids brought up any existential conversations lately?  Please tell me about it in the comments!

    If you enjoyed this article please share it with a friend.

    I wrote this article last week, on the day it happened.  Also, heads up with November being the month we Catholics remember the faithful departed, I will probably be writing a few more posts on Death (and life) in the upcoming days.  I am not obsessed with death or anything, it is just on my mind a lot at this time of year.  

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    "Stayin Alive" A Soundtrack for the Late Work Nights

    . . . or in my case, the husband's late work nights.  Nathan expects to have put in sixteen hours at work today.

    Sammy decided to celebrate this by making it his mission to dump out anything he could get his hands on in the kitchen while he was "helping" me make dinner.  Among other things, throughout the course of our meal prep he dumped out the container of popcorn kernels, the box of tea bags, the large shaker of garlic powder and for his grand finale, half a gallon of kefir water . . . all over his sister's head.  Each time I was within a few feet of him.  This kid is talented.  In addition while cleaning up one of his messes, he decided to, in his words "practice potty training" in the kitchen . . . yeah.

    In an effort to distract him and maintain my sanity I created the following playlist.  There was much dancing and singing, and less dumping out of foodstuffs.  We're calling it a win.

    For your listening pleasure I present my late work night desperation playlist:

    1.  Eye of the Tiger- Survivor

    Because its awesome.

    2.  Livin on a Prayer- Bon Jovi

    We were totally "livin on a prayer" tonight, begging God for the grace to keep my cool.  Also Ana looked at me in awe as I belted out this song.  Sammy looked at me like I was insane.

    3.  I will Survive- Gloria Gaynor

    So hypothetically, my young little college freshman self ran around in circles belting out this song during my first finals week hyped up on waaaaay too much sugar and caffeine.  That is only hypothetically mind you.

    4.  Stayin' Alive- Bee Gees

    The title says it all.

    5.  I Need a Hero- Bonnie Tyler

    Fortunately I found my hero in my husband.  I don't know how he finds the strength to work these insane hours for our family.

    6. The Final Countdown- Europe

    With any luck we are in the home stretch now . . .

    7.  We Are the Champions- Queen

    Because "Weeee'll keep on fighting till the end . . ."

    Quick disclaimer: I did not watch every second of the footage in the videos.  From what I skimmed I didn't see anything terribly inappropriate, other than lots of men impersonating women with long hair and very skinny jeans.

    Linking up with Jen at Conversion Diary for her Seven Quick Takes linkup.

    Do you have a playlist that helps you get through the crazy long days?  Are any of your favorites on this list?

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    Inside the Pregnancy Center: Not Manipulation, but Unconditional Love

    Today, I am so excited to share with you a guest post that I wrote for CatholicHousehold.com detailing my experiences volunteering as a peer counselor at a Crisis Pregnancy Center.  One aspect of my work there involved meeting with women considering having an abortion.  If you are curious to learn what that looks like, please head over to http://www.catholichousehold.com/inside-pregnancy-center-manipulation-unconditional-love/ .  Here is an excerpt:

    "After volunteering at a Pregnancy Resource Center, abortion is no longer primarily a political position, or a catchy slogan. Nor is it a nameless, faceless evil that is far removed from everyday life. It becomes something real and personal. It has a face and a name. It is “Rachel,” the woman who cries herself to sleep every night holding the ultrasound picture of the unborn baby she was pressured into aborting. It is “Sarah,” who continues to grieve the abortion she had decades ago. It is “Anna,” the teenager who describes her previous abortion as “the worst experience” of her life. It is “Jake,” the man who came to tell his story of manipulating his former girlfriend to have an abortion; with tears in his eyes, he asked that his story be told so that his unborn child’s death will not have been in vain.  . ."

    This is the project I referred to last week.  It has been a difficult and emotional post to write, but I hope that it will prove useful in raising awareness about the important work done by Crisis Pregnancy Centers.

    Please consider donating to our local Pregnancy Center if you are able https://secure.ministrysync.com/ministrysync/event/website/home/?e=5628 .  As you can see in the article, our center provides essential services to the women and children of our community.

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    Please share the article to raise awareness of the important work of Crisis Pregnancy Centers!  

    Have you ever worked at a Pregnancy Center, or in another part of the pro-life movement?  I would love to hear about your experiences positive or negative in the comments.  Please remember to keep it civil; disagreement is fine, insults are not.  Thanks!

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    Dear Anastasia: A Letter to My Daughter on 50 Shades of Grey

    Letter to Ana 3.0
    I have a custom of writing letters to my children when they are young.  This letter is one such example.  In general, these letters are very personal and a gift that is only shared with the recipient.  Due to the alarming popularity of the "50 Shades of Grey" book and upcoming movie, I decided to make an exception in the case of this letter.  Please note that I have not read the book, nor do I ever intend to.  My understanding of it is derived from a fairly brief summary, and that degree of detail has proved more than sufficient for me.  I would rather remain ignorant of all the sordid details.  
     

    My Dearest Anastasia,

    Hello, my daughter.  Right now you are just a baby sleeping on your father's lap, totally at peace in his arms.  Someday, though, you might be in another man's arms and I wanted to pass on a few suggestions for how to find someone worthy of that honor.

    You see, there is a book that is quite popular right now.  I won't bother to name it since I am sure that by the time you read this it will have long been forgotten.  This book tells the story of a young woman's sexual relationship with a sadistic man.  Normally, I don't give such filth a second thought, but while reading a critique of the book, I learned the young woman's name: Anastasia.

    Then the book changed.  Instead of seeing it as just another smutty story, it became personal.  It began to represent a future that I hope you will never have to experience.  It led me to think of some things to suggest for you to avoid in future relationships, as well as qualities to look for in a potential husband.

    First, if a man tries to control you or coerce you into being the perfect partner for him, run away from that relationship and don't look back.  Love isn't about controlling another person in order to maximize your own satisfaction.  It is about giving generously of yourself, and in so doing becoming who you were meant to be.  Love doesn't force another person to conform to his or her own standards of perfection, but rather provides gentle guidance in trying to become more like Christ.

    Another thing to beware of is a man who refers to virginity (either his or yours) as something to be taken or lost.  Virginity is a gift of oneself to another.  If any man talks of taking it or asks you to "lose" it to him, he does not understand the value of the gift you have to offer and is not properly disposed to receive it.

    From what I understand in the aforementioned book, the main male character requires Anastasia to sign a non-disclosure agreement so that his various sexual exploits will be kept confidential.  I presume he thinks that this will provide him with the means to engage in a more "liberating" sexual encounter.

    It should come as no surprise to you that your father and I have entered into a formal agreement of a sexual nature.  Ours goes something like this: "I take you to be my lawfully wedded spouse, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part."  It is only in this type of an agreement that one can experience the true freedom that comes from giving oneself to another completely and unreservedly for life.

    The reason that the male character desires Anastasia to sign the non-disclosure agreement is because he is a sadist.  He derives pleasure from causing her pain.  My daughter, I hope and pray that you will never find yourself in a relationship with such a man.  No matter how convincingly he may profess to love you, it is a lie.

    Love never finds pleasure from inflicting harm on the beloved.  There can be no true union of persons when one is using the other as an object to satisfy their lust.

    Some proponents of such a lifestyle argue that the pleasure doesn't come from the inflicting of pain, but from the trust that the victim places in the aggressor not to permanently injure or kill them.  At this point words fail me.  Hoping that the man who is abusing you for his own pleasure won't kill you hardly seems like trust to me.  Rather, true trust is pledging your life and your heart to another, come what may.

    Finally, my daughter, please know that no matter what choices or mistakes you may make, I will always love you.

    Nothing you can do or say could ever change my love for you.  If you ever want to talk about anything or need a safe place to run to, I will always be here for you.  Your father and I love you more than life itself, we would gladly die to save you.

    As much as we love you, there is one who loves you even more.  He has already died to save you.

    Should you ever fall, run back into His arms in the Sacrament of Confession.  It is there that He will hold you close to His pierced heart in the most loving of embraces.  If you ever need a model of true, selfless love, look to Him my daughter.

    In Him I Remain,

    Your Devoted Mother

     

    Do you ever write letters to your children?  What are some pieces of advice that you want to impart to them on the expression of love in a relationship?  What are your thoughts on the "50 Shades of Grey" saga?  

    Due to the nature of the post, I ask that all comments be kept discrete and charitable.  Comments are moderated, and I reserve the right to delete comments I deem inappropriate (haven't had to use that right yet, thankfully).

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    My Breastfeeding Journey Part I: Lactation Failure

    The other day I thought it might be fun to do posts on breastfeeding as part of breastfeeding awareness week, so I turned to Google to find out just when it was.  In a serendipitous turn of events, I discovered it is this week.  This post is the first of two posts on my experiences with breastfeeding my two children.  Part two will run sometime later in the month.  To my small number of male readers, you are welcome to read it, but if you prefer please feel free to skip (except for my husband, he doesn't get off the hook so easily, ha ha).

    Before the birth of my son Samuel, I anticipated a smooth breastfeeding experience.   I had read several books on the topic, and even practiced various feeding positions with stuffed animals.  There was no doubt in my mind that everything would work out fine.  After all as I had read, every woman can breastfeed if they just try hard enough . . .or so I thought.

    Then my son was born, and all my preconceived notions began to crumble.  The birth process was surprisingly easy, and I fully expected breastfeeding to follow suit.  After all, this is what my body was designed to do.

    My son lost 12 oz. of his birth weight in less than a week.  I tried to remain calm, telling myself that he would regain it all and then some.  Even after my milk came in, however, his wight gain was very slow, and even non-existent for several days at a time.

    In frustration, I turned to my local La Leche League to find answers.  At the first meeting (and every subsequent one) I was told the problem was two fold; first, I must not have a good latch (though the leader admitted that everything looked good on the outside) and, second, I just wasn't nursing enough.  Finally, I was told not to supplement any feedings with formula, lest my supply be further jeopardized and to pump whenever my son napped.

    Over the next few weeks, I watched videos about latching on, nursed as much as possible (we were actively nursing for 16 hours a day), and pumped about twice a day.  Still my son did not gain weight.

    All the while the doctors were running tests to see if my son had a genetic disorder to explain his poor weight gain.  Sammy was producing the proper number of soiled diapers, so we assumed he was getting enough milk.  I felt physically ill with worry, both that my son might have a serious underlying health problem, or that his inability to gain weight was my fault, and that failure to nurse exclusively would result in a serious health problem for him later in life.

    Finally I got a referral to a different lactation consultant whose practice was an hour and a half away from my house.  Desperate for answers, I made the drive down.

    Sammy at his lowest weight.  It pains me to see this picture.

    Sammy at his lowest weight. It pains me to see this picture.

    There I found out the news I was both dreading and hoping to hear: I had lactation failure.  It isn't common, and is a very poorly publicized condition for fear that many women will prematurely presume they have it and stop attempting to breastfeed.  The La Leche League leader I  previously saw did not mention the possibility once, and even my doctor was not familiar with it, I was the first case he had ever seen.

    The lactation consultant told me very gently that although breastfeeding is ideal, the most important thing was to make sure that my son got the nourishment he so desperately needed.  We talked about several strategies for trying to maintain my supply, and she gave me a supplemental nursing system so that I could feed my son formula while continuing to breastfeed.

    Now that I knew I had done everything in my power to breastfeed exclusively, I was at peace with supplementing.  The results were dramatic.  My son began gaining weight at a rapid pace (up to a pound a week for the first few weeks).  His cheeks began to fill out and he became such a happy baby.  From what I can tell, I was able to continue to provide him with 1/3-1/2 of the milk that he needed, and we supplemented the rest.  Now, nearly three years later he is an energetic, intelligent toddler.

    Sammy two months after we started supplementing.

    Sammy two months after we started supplementing.

    My purpose in sharing this information is twofold.  First, I want to raise awareness of the condition so that other emotional, exhausted mothers might find answers sooner than I did and be spared watching their child suffer.  Secondly, I want women who are experiencing this to know that they aren't alone and to share a few pieces of advice:

    1. Get Help.   If you are having any problems with nursing or your infant displays poor weight gain, get help right away!  See a certified lactation consultant, they can be so amazingly helpful in managing breastfeeding problems.  If I had seen one sooner, my son would have been better off.

    2.  If necessary, don't be afraid to supplement.  Breast may be best, but what your child really needs is nourishment.  I was so hung up on making sure my son got the best possible source of nutrition that I was unwilling to experiment with adding in supplemental feedings.  It wasn't until the lactation consultant told me that it was necessary to supplement that I gave myself permission to do so without fear.

    3.  Forgive yourself!  After we started supplementing, I couldn't stop playing thoughts in my head about how I had failed my son, how I wasn't able to provide him with this one thing that I so desperately wanted to.  It took me months to forgive myself.

    As parents, we want to give our children the best, and when we are unable to do so it is devastating.  But do you know what the most precious gift you can give your child is?  Your love and affection.  Focus on all the beautiful moments you are able to share with your baby. Forgive yourself for not living up to your idea about what you "should" be able to do as a mother.  You are just the right mom for the job of parenting your child.  You are not defined by your failures, but by the fierce and devoted love you give.  That love will have a greater impact on your child's life than breast milk ever could.

    Our silly Sammy, goofing off for the camera.

    Our silly Sammy, goofing off for the camera.

     

    Have you ever breastfed?  Ever struggled with undersupply, or oversupply? Please share your experiences (both positive and negative) in the com box.  Sometimes it can be so reassuring for other women to see that others share their difficulties.  

    A few disclaimers: I am not a doctor, and this is not intended to be medical advice.  If you think you might have lactation failure, see a professional immediately!  

    Also, I do not mean to disparage La Leche League, I have a few friends who are leaders who helped me troubleshoot more minor problems I had later on.  For smaller breastfeeding issues or general support it is a great organization.  

    If you are going through a similar situation, please feel free to get in touch with me through the contact form, I understand that it is a hard burden to bear and would be happy to offer emotional support.  

    If you found this post informative or encouraging, please consider sharing it with a friend!

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    Thriving Amidst Adversity

    blacksmith_2540894In January, frustrated with the chaos I was encountering, I decided to seek to thrive in all that I did.  I set goals for various aspects of my life: relationships, health, prayer, etc. (I hope to share them with you sometime soon, to help keep me accountable to them.)  

    While I have been progressing in my goals, and life is becoming more ordered and running smoother, this progress didn't bring me as much satisfaction as I had hoped.  In my mind, thriving was still eluding me.

    As I pictured it, thriving meant managing all of the duties and responsibilities of my life with perfect competence.  I figured that, if I tried hard enough, I really could have it all together. You know, a perfectly clean house, with delicious all-organic paleo meals on the table promptly at 6pm, children whose days are spent engaging in a variety of stimulating learning activities (definitely not with any television), picture perfect health, and extensive periods in the day for prayer and recollection.

    While all of these things are good and desirable, it wasn't until recently that I realized that I had missed the point.  In my naivete, I had thought that sanctity- which is what true thriving is all about- necessitated having it all together.

    With relief I recalled the lives of saints who share my vocation as mother.  If I held them to the same standards that I had proposed for myself, then Sts. Monica, Gianna and Frances hadn't really thrived.  St. Monica had difficulties in her relationship with her son and husband; St. Gianna suffered from cancer; and St. Frances was constantly interrupted at prayer by her children.

    When it comes to thriving, only one thing is needful: to draw closer to our Lord through the circumstances of our daily life.  I may not be able to control the chaos and trials in my life, but I can control whether these trials bring me closer to God, or lead me further away.

    Thriving doesn't just happen when everything is going right; it happens when you are being tested in the furnace of adversity and are molded into what you are supposed to be.

    Is it even possible to thrive without trials?

    The challenges and chaos aren't distractions from my goal for a life well lived; they are a means of pushing me closer to it.  It is up to me to use them wisely.  Maybe then I will experience what it looks like to thrive.

    How about you?  Have you ever experienced a trial that helped you become a better person?  I would love to hear about it in the comments!

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