Category Archives: Motherhood

Resting in the Stillness After Personal Struggle

03 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by in Acceptance, Ash Wednesday, Blessings, Catholic Parenting, Change, Childhood Mood Disorders, Family life, Forgiveness, Journaling, Lent, Love, Motherhood, Parenting, Parenting a Child with Special Needs, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Prayer, Prayers, Rest, Seasons, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Thankfulness, Tough days, Truth of Heart

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Silence, I learned, is some times the most beautiful sound.” 
― Charlotte Eriksson

“Slowly, simply, silence, stillness” was my Lenten mantra, my focus, my goal for the 40 days between Ash Wednesday and Easter morning. A lofty goal, yes. Yet, I was convinced this intentional journey would yield the peaceful rewards I was seeking in my personal life. Of all my Lenten fasts, in comparison to all my past sacrifices, in judging the level of self-denial I’ve deliberately imposed on myself, this year’s “halt of self” has been the most challenging in refinement of my mind, body, and spirit.

Do you trust the silence? Or, are you a skeptic of stillness, like I tend to be?

Have you found a way to rest in the stillness? Do you ever allow yourself the chance to rest your weary mind and bones?

Do you welcome in the peace? Or, are you prone to catastrophising out of innate fear?

Have you lived out loud, with joy and freedom from the chains of your mind? Or, do you lurk along in misery, always waiting for the other shoe to drop?

The last three years, for me, have felt like an ultra-marathon, filled with hills and valleys of tears, running at a snail’s pace, feeling completely lost and unprepared for the race set before me, as I carried a weighted pack on my shoulders, trudging through mud, falling down too many times that I’ve lost track. Over the last few weeks, I have seen the finish line in sight and I’m eager, yet still so apprehensive, to finish the race and rest in the notion that the biggest fight of my life thus far, is finally done. I am having a difficult time accepting that the grueling miles I’ve run have amounted to much more than having run a race I was thrown into, without adequate preparation. Now that my desperate pleas and prayers seem to be answered, it’s difficult to switch gears to a place where it’s time to rest, recuperate, recover from the incredible feat I have just accomplished, emotionally.

For so very long now, I have carried that burdensome cross of mothering a struggling child without a compass, my headlamp dimmed, my resolve shaken and trampled on. Yet, here I rise. The truth is the only way I’ve survived the mountainous terrain of my parenting journey is that I’m finally allowing myself to let go of control. Though fears still grapple me with super-human strength, I am diligent in practicing how to breathe through them, pray through them, write through them, and further unloading them in dialogue with my amazing therapist, trying to leave them in that space between us, not letting them drag me to the floor once I return home.

I’ve practiced a lot of self-forgiveness as I’ve fallen flat on my face and the need to forgive and seek forgiveness will remain a focus in my life. Despite my missteps and mistakes, I can recognize that I am loving as best I can today, and have let those circumstances, hardships, and some relationships to just be, freely flying away to where they need to go—even if that means far away from me where I can no longer enact any type of chance to insert my will, my advice, my vision, or my control.

The most humbling lesson I’ve learned in the last three years is that it’s okay, preferable, actually, to let go of perfection and preconceived notions, allowing God to do His job, and to just love—myself, others, my family, strangers, my friends, and enemies—right where I am and right where they are, without expectation nor conditions to that love. Truth be told, it’s a difficult, often heart-wrenching choice, challenge, and cross to bear going on in love when you feel so beaten down and defeated by the compounding hardships of life. But, going on in love and patience, staying mindful to live each day as best as I can, choosing better than before, these new choices and changes only feel strange and unnatural for a time before the transformative lightness is shining from deep within my heart, mind, and soul, changing me for the better.

Slowly, simply, silence, stillness. This has been my Lenten focus and will remain my prayerful path going into the Easter season and throughout the remainder of this year. Hoping for heartfelt and mindful changes for you, me, and the world abound. Be at peace, friends.

“Whenever there is stillness there is the still small voice, God’s speaking from the whirlwind, nature’s old song, and dance…” 
― Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters

Advertisements

Expressing Gratitude for Unfailing Friendship

04 Saturday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Blessings, Friendship, Lifelong friends, Motherhood, Perspective, Prayer, Prayers, Thankfulness

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship. ~William Blake

 

Spending time on the couch this afternoon confiding in a dear friend about the woes and triumphs we face was time well spent. Wise beyond her years, my friend seems to always know what to say in a thoughtful and confident manner. She offers perspectives that are enlightening and encouraging, with empathetic words that affirm, restore, and uplift. Somehow, we get each other and always have been able to see the truth and value in the other. We pray and involve one another in our deepest of sorrows, most appalling revelations, and haunting moments of grief. Our rejoice is pure and exuberant for each other when happy times and blessed events are shared. Never do we take for granted the other, nor hold a grudge or make assumptions when long periods of absence by phone or visit are necessary. Although there is a great distance between us in calendar years, the gap is seamless. Over the years, we have grown in appreciation of and dedication to our friendship with one another and acknowledge that the companionship we’ve cultivated only continues to beautify with age. How utterly grateful I am to know a dear friend who accepts me as I am, and whom unceasingly blesses and nourishes me with her pure existence and genuine presence in my life. 

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. ~Henri Nouwen

Thankful for the Promise of Tomorrow

03 Friday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, 30 Days of Thanksgiving, Attachment parenting, Baby Boy, Blessings, Motherhood, Mothers & Sons, Parenting, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Thankfulness, Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful. ~Buddha

 

My morning started with a broken dish and burned bacon, unfortunately setting the tone for the rest of the day. Still, I’m thankful that I have a cupboard full of dishes and plates to use, and in the refrigerator plenty of food to prepare for breakfast, lunch and dinner. 

I’m thankful that Baby Boy was eager, for once, to participate in his music therapy class. Today was the first time he showed delight in being there this fall session. He has a new teacher and is part of a larger, more boisterous class than the summer group. Accompanied today by his beloved Snoopy stuffed dog also aided in his comfort level.  Even though there are only two more classes left to attend before the holiday break, I was thrilled to see him relax and enjoy himself more. 

Additionally, I am thankful that I realized, albeit late in the day, that he had left his irreplaceable Snoopy behind and quickly thought to return to the local church where the music class is held. My heartfelt gratitude extends to whomever it was that found Snoopy unattended and placed him in a safe spot where we were able to retrieve him hours later! The tears that my Baby Boy shed in relief when he saw Snoopy broke my heart, and I’m so thankful we were able to find and take Snoopy home this afternoon. 

Losing Snoopy only added to the ill-will of this no-good day and the stress Baby Boy has felt over the past few weeks by enduring a litany of tests, procedures, blood draws, and hospital stays. Today’s scheduled blood draw wasn’t successful at all. After being stuck a few too many times, he was fighting every way he knew how to get that needle away from his tiny body. His wriggling, wrestling, spitting, and struggling to release my hold was too much. Crying profuse tears, my sweet son was overheated and sweaty, wounded and clinging to me in a panic. At this point in the day, I was overwhelmed by the heaviness of our ordeal and needing to keep it together for him. My concern and heartache for my son and his rapidly growing, elevated fear every time we pull into the Children’s Hospital parking lot now has reached a level that crushes this sensitive mama’s spirit. This afternoon, Baby Boy had enough. So, I begged the nurse to stop. Further stating that we would just try again another time. (Preferably with another phlebotomist.)

Yes, it has been “one of those days” at the tail-end of “one of those weeks.” And we all have them, that’s for certain. Thankfully, my monthly restorative yoga class is tonight because I am craving the deep release and stillness. My mother-daughter book club meets tomorrow afternoon, for which I am pleased. There will be ample time this weekend for relaxation and reading, as well. To top it off, the sun is finally shining again! Therefore, I am now going to take advantage of this high-five from nature and get outside with my kids fueled by the attitude of blessedness for having both the time and energy to do so, while looking toward tomorrow with a hopeful heart.

 

At the age of 18, I made up my mind to never have another bad day in my life. I dove into an endless sea of gratitude from which I’ve never emerged.  ~ Patch Adams

 

Grateful for the Challenge: #30DaysofThanks 2017

01 Wednesday Nov 2017

Posted by in 30 Days of Thanks, Blessings, Catholic Parenting, Motherhood, Peace, Perspective, Prayer, Simple Living, Thankfulness, Writing

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

Gratitude is the mother of the virtues. ~ Cicero

An icy cold November rain casts its melancholic tune outside my windowpane this afternoon as I ponder my blessings and sip hot tea from an ordinary mug. November is devoted to the #30DaysofThanks challenge, and I’m heeding the call again this year. 

If my focus remains just on this dreary day, I reveal gratitude for my Baby Boy sleeping soundly in his toddler bed, safely tucked away upstairs this afternoon as I write, since he has been phasing out of his naps recently.

My thanks can be given for a late morning mass time on this Holy Day of Obligation that allowed me to give a wave and a smile to The Boy and Baby Girl in attendance with their schoolmates, the rare opportunity for me to be present inside church without chasing around a two-year-old, and the ability to sit with a friend. The mass was scheduled perfectly so that I could arrive soon after preschool drop-off and ended with just enough time for me to run an errand before returning to my Baby Boy at his preschool pick-up time.

Looking forward to this evening, I am grateful to begin the next session of my newfound favorite exercise class.

I call this a win of a day–one filled with recognizable blessings once I stopped to reflect and contemplate, a practice I adhere to by mindfully implementing the elements of intention throughout my daily life.

“When one has a grateful heart, life is so beautiful.” ~ Roy T. Bennett

Please join me over the next thirty days in counting blessings, practicing gratitude, and focusing on giving thanks. To read my past posts reflecting on graciousness and thankfulness, click here.

I’d enjoy hearing from you about how you are learning to cultivate an intentional heart, finding new ways to be thankful, and discovering the joys of gratitude in your own life. Please, comment below, and go forth giving thanks.

 

 

Motherhood and Finding the Time to Write and Create

26 Thursday Oct 2017

Posted by in Chasing Dreams, Inspiration, Journaling, Motherhood, Personal Challenges, Seasons, Writing, Writing Goals, Writing routine

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

“…there is nothing you can buy, achieve, own, or rent that can fill up that hunger inside for a sense of fulfillment and wonder. But the good news is that creative expression, whether that means writing, dancing, bird-watching, or cooking, can give a person almost everything that he or she has been searching for: enlivenment, peace, meaning, and the incalculable wealth of time spent quietly in beauty.” ~ Anne Lamott

 

The local library where I live brings to town many well-known and accomplished authors. A few years ago, I was one of many in the crowded auditorium at the central high school mere miles from my neighborhood where these literary events are held and the author of a favorite novel was the guest speaker. My memory serves that this author’s talk on writing was exceptional, especially the bits about how her stories came to life and how her writing life came to fruition. She was gracious in her answers during the Q & A, one of which I posed, a version of, “How did she find the time to write with children underfoot?” In so many words, she prescribed that you must write any chance you can get, master writing to the background noise and chaos, scrawl away during short spurts of free time, and urged not to wait for the ‘perfect’ conditions conducive to writing because they will rarely appear and the writing will never happen. What I took from her eloquent answer (more precisely delivered than I am reiterating to you) is that if you are a mother longing to write (or create in any artistic endeavor) then you must accept that you must write to the cadence of the season you are in, and weave the craft into the fabric of your daily life, willing to adjust and change your writing tempo as your children change and grow along side of you.

If you are a mother-writer and struggling to find the time to write, here are a few simple suggestions to help you carve out more time for your writing and that have worked for me:

Take a break, and give yourself a break.

There will be days, weeks, and even months that you won’t be able to carve out one minute for writing, and that’s alright. Don’t berate yourself. Embrace the peaks and valleys. Invite the rest in and allow the time off to invigorate your senses. It’s quite allowable to take time off from writing, and preferred, if I might add. After all, living your life and experiencing the world around you will only improve your creative abilities.

Quite by choice, summers are the most challenging time in my writing calendar. Since I don’t employ a daycare facility, a part-time sitter or nanny, the warm summer months around my house are full and well-enjoyed, even on days when camps and classes aren’t on the schedule. Along with my children, I prefer to soak up as much sun as possible while we are blessed with the Vitamin D producer, and the vibrancy of kids enjoying their months of freedom is something I don’t want to miss out on–especially while they are still so young. This is where personal journaling and keeping notebooks nearby come in handy. When there are chunks of time that I don’t feel like powering up the laptop, though want to record my thoughts, ideas, recollections, observations, and experiences, then I journal. I find that the break from typing also helps to refuel my creativity in pertinent ways. Never once have I felt regret for relishing in the days off.

Write at a time of day that works for you.

Although I would love to tell you to set your alarm an hour earlier than your first child wakes up, this has never worked for me. I’m not now, and doubtful ever will be, a morning person. When I was on a writer’s retreat, I insisted I wake up at 5:00 AM every morning to start writing, and I did. However, I did not have the pressing urgency of a child to attend to that week, either. I was there for myself and had only myself to take care of during five, blissful, writing-centered days. It was my opportunity to utilize as much time to write–and I took the gift of being there seriously, not wanting to waste the opportunity. That was three years ago, and I have yet to replicate that early morning habit so easily enacted on an island miles and miles away surrounded by other women-mother-writers. What I have continued is the discipline and confidence earned, and the ability to be flexible with both myself and my writing process.

Please, do not feel obligated to wake an hour earlier than your family does if the extra sleep is vital to your emotional, physical, and mental well-being–especially if you have young toddlers or school-aged children as I do. In this time of my life, it is more important that I sleep in after nursing Baby Boy in the early morning hours. After we rise and ready for the day, eat our breakfast and clear up, then I can think about some writing if our schedule permits. Don’t neglect your health and essential needs, nor those of your children, for the sake of your craft. It’s a recipe for failure. Instead, take care of yourself and children first, and pockets of writing time will appear, I promise. (Just my two cents.)

Let them see you write.  

If you have young children at home able to entertain themselves for a while, take advantage of late morning play time and make that your daily writing time. After I have finished in the kitchen, and perhaps have even started a load of laundry, I set my toddler up nearby with some favorite toys and I write in my journal while sipping my first cup of tea of the day. This has become my almost-daily practice of emptying my head of the noise and clutter inside, or when I may flesh-out ideas for the book I’m working on, conceptualize upcoming blog posts, or even free-write. I keep my journal nearby for reference, and it’s a daily practice I’ll never reject. (By the way, these are my favorite ones.)

Cultivate ideas during their nap time.

If you’re lucky enough to have a child that still naps, I’d love to know your secret! When The Boy was younger, he was a champion napper. It gave me ample time for freelance projects and personal, creative pursuits. Baby Boy is rejecting his nap time most days, I’m sad to say. So for now, I take a midday walk with him and use this time to commune with nature and let my thoughts run free. I highly recommend an afternoon walk for some fresh air and the chance to gather eclectic ideas for your creative endeavors. During most of these walks, my son will doze off for a short time. By the time I return home and transfer him out of the stroller and back inside, I have only a brief time for writing before the older children arrive at their bus stop at the end of the school day. This is the toughest time for me to write. Nevertheless, I strive to utilize that time for me and my writing, if even for thirty minutes, or less. Thirty minutes spent writing is better than writing nothing at all.

Burn the midnight oil, but only if that works for you.

During my younger days, I was a night owl. In my forties, though, I am slowing down in the evening and feel that my writing time is wasted after a certain hour. My wonderful husband will handle baths and the nighttime routine. If given the choice, I honestly choose to exercise most evenings rather than write because a brisk walk or fitness class helps me to decompress in a healthier way. Though, if the weather is uncooperative, or I’ve had ample time to exercise during the day (which is rare), I will plant myself at my desk to scrawl or type away. On the nights I write (like tonight), it’s usually time well-spent. Anymore, I like to have my computer turned off by 8:00 PM so that I can unwind with my husband and rest my mind. I am confident that the writing pieces swirling around my head after hours won’t flitter away into the abyss of forgetfulness, and this schedule helps me to acquire the essential sleep I need to meet, God-willing, another full and challenging day of motherhood.

Designate and schedule one, non-negotiable chunk of time per week for creating.

Lastly, I have declared the mid-week morning that Baby Boy attends nursery school for two-and-a-half-hours as “Sacred Writing Time.” Sacred Writing Time is designated and guaranteed; the only moments in my week that are non-negotiable, set aside for writing and only writing. During these couple of hours, I do not take phone calls (except from my children’s schools), nor do I read, shop, set appointments, clean, etc… Making this time a priority and only for writing has been a gift and game-changer in my life as a mother-writer. Knowing I will write at least two hours a week takes the pressure off during my busiest weeks taking care of all the essential motherhood tasks, caring for sick kids, running to and from appointments, and more. “Sacred Writing Time” is just that, sacred, and I take it quite seriously. Once I return home from preschool drop-off, I am eagerly at my computer without delay.

For further inspiration about how to carve out the time to write while entrenched in the glories of motherhood, or distracted by your presently busy life, please look no further than to these, more seasoned and reliable writers than I:

http://www.sunset.com/travel/anne-lamott-how-to-find-time by Anne Lamott

https://jamesclear.com/daily-routines-writers by James Clear

http://www.latimes.com/opinion/op-ed/la-oe-menkedick-literary-value-of-motherhood-20170416-story.html by Sarah Menkedick

https://www.creativenonfiction.org/online-reading/writing-motherhood  by Marcelle Soviero

If inspired to, please comment on how you carve out time in your week for your creative pursuits. As always, thank you for reading and happy writing!

 

“We are all carrying so many things in our life and inside ourselves. Often it feels there is no place to put them down. Where do you place the questions you carry” ~ Sabrina Ward Harrison, Spilling Open: The Art of Becoming Yourself

 

Lighting the way for those children lost too soon, never forgotten, remaining forever in our hearts #waveoflight2017

15 Sunday Oct 2017

Posted by in Catholic Parenting, Change, Infertility, Love, Memories, Miscarriage, Motherhood, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, October 15th, Parenting, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Prayer, Seasons, SIDS, Suffering, Tough days, Wave of Light

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“There is, I am convinced, no picture that conveys in all its dreadfulness, a vision of sorrow, despairing, remediless, supreme. If I could paint such a picture, the canvas would show only a woman looking down at her empty arms.” ~ Charlotte Brontë

 

A flicker of light,

a ray shining through,

cast out the shadow of loss inside my heart

warm the chill of remembrance within me.

 

Annually on October 15th, grieving parents around the globe light candles that illuminate their homes in solidarity, united by brilliant luminance and the heartbreak entrenched by the grief over the children they have lost prematurely or in early infancy. The seven o’clock hour on this day, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, ignites the sorrowful hearts and minds of those whose lives have been tragically impacted by the loss of a child from miscarriage, stillborn death, and SIDS.

It’s alarming to read that ten to fifteen percent of all confirmed pregnancies will end in miscarriage. (Source: https://www.marchofdimes.org/complications/miscarriage.aspx)

Even graver, to learn that over 23,000 babies each year are stillborn. (Source: https://www.marchofdimes.org/complications/stillbirth.aspx)

A grim report from the CDC states that 3,700 cases of SIDS were confirmed in 2015.(Source:  https://www.cdc.gov/sids/data.htm)

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” ~ A.A. Milne

 

Most every year, I write about my shared grief on this day. (You can read my past blog posts related to miscarriage here.) Miscarriage and baby loss has affected me distinctly and most profoundly, and these incredibly difficult experiences were, in fact, the initial driving force behind starting this blog years ago. Writing through the lingering grief in hope of discovering new sources of joy in motherhood, my intent in offering up these deeply personal stories of mine was, and still remains, rooted in wanting to reach a grieving mother (or father) at the right time in their own journey of grief founded in miscarriage or infant loss out searching for understanding, compassion, and hope. Some brave voices and compelling stories of strangers, comprised a sorrowful circle of mothers who had known loss like I had, were discovered by me in quiet desperation for answers, community, and reason. Through the melancholic melody of their words, these women offered my grieving heart comfort, validation, and most importantly, hope. I only hope my stories will be the same beacon of light for someone in need.

On that note, I would like to recommend a few well-written blogs penned by authors, much like myself, gravely affected by the loss of their own children:

https://www.freckleeyefancy.com/

http://www.glowinthewoods.com/

https://grievingoutloud.com/

“Write hard and clear about what hurts.” ~ Ernest Hemingway

 

Tonight at 7:00, my family and I will be lighting a candle to honor and remember the six children we lost in miscarriage, our angels: Agnes, Julian, Max, Catherine, John, and Francis.

“It is better to light a candle than curse the darkness.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

 

Please join me in this special lighting ceremony, from wherever you read, to keep the light of remembrance aflame, and honor the hearts of their grieving parents and families.  #waveoflight

 

“Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” ~ Buddha

 

Seeking joy in the present moment

11 Wednesday Oct 2017

Posted by in Inspiration, Journaling, Love, Motherhood, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Seasons, Stress & Anxiety, Suffering, Tough days

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“If you carry joy in your heart, you can heal any moment.” ~ Carlos Santana

 

When you feel anxious waiting for a call from your child’s doctor with his or her test results, what eases your stress? When a family member, living hours away, is sick again with the symptoms of his or her chronic mental illness, what can you do to effectively help them through the trial? When you’re feeling less confident in your abilities to weather the storms of motherhood while the days, weeks, years go by, how do you pick yourself up from your bootstraps and carry on for the good of your family? How do you decide to embrace all the hardships of your life, acknowledging tough days and challenges are here to stay, while attempting to seek joy for yourself in the present moment?

~

Today, I was overwhelmed by fear. (Rampant fears are the dirty little lies our minds tell us.) No matter what I did nor where I went, this nagging fear tracked me down. I couldn’t be rid of the mountainous despair despite my multitude of attempts to diffuse the lingering smoke surrounding me; I was left gasping and choking for breath. Acknowledging the named fear magnified the cloud; it clung to me. I wrote down the characteristics of my fear, though the words remained locked inside my core. Busying myself with mindless tasks only increased the solitude of my thoughts. Walking it out only intensified with the raciness of my heart, and the fear chained itself to my ankles, slowing my pace. Praying through it all was having ill-effect, opposite of what usually occurs.

Having had enough of this misplaced, ridiculous lingering fear, I ultimately chose to leave my Wednesday routine and unnecessary obligations to see if getting out of my rut would help at all to wander about my hometown for sunny solace and a change of pace. And you know what? Treating myself to an organic smoothie and favorite dish at a hip, local restaurant; writing in my journal amidst the hustle and bustle of other adults meeting and eating; feeling alive to the beat and vibrations of indie music and conversations surrounding me was the exact distraction my worried mind needed to reset and be relieved. Scrawling away while I awaited my delicious food, the entrapped words came out free and fluid, and I was able to write past the illogical thoughts I was harboring. A quick trip to my local library for a heap of new reads and to leisurely browse the stacks at-will only continued my newfound, released, inner-peace and I was overjoyed for the mental break.

On my way back home, refreshed and renewed, I realized it took such little effort to put myself first, for once, yet the benefits were tremendously rewarding and necessary. Especially in the darkened, tumultuous times of our personal lives, giving back to oneself is vital to maintaining the reserve and strength needed to weather the storms of the present day, and to face those unexpected, wrathful patterns no one can predict.

~

Please, find a concrete way to honor your heart today and you will feel the joy creeping back in–of that, I promise. If you’re going through a tough season, even if you’re feeling a little run-down or stuck in a rut of your own, try to remember to be kind to yourself and offer as much love to yourself as you shower upon those closest to your heart, for, you matter—every bit as much.

 

“Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow.” ~ Rumi

Embracing Change with a Joyful Heart

06 Wednesday Sep 2017

Posted by in Catholic Parenting, Change, Infertility, Marriage, Motherhood, Past, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Perspective, Seasons, The Husband, Tough days

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“Shout out to everyone transcending
a mindset, mentality, desire, belief,
emotion, habit, behavior or vibration,
that no longer serves them.”
― Lalah Delia

 

Transitions mean change that we are often leery of embracing.  Though, to continue through this lifetime, evolutionary movement is inevitable. In order to truly live our lives to the fullest, we must embrace the modifications before us, and all the meaning interwoven in the possibilities that change brings. We must challenge ourselves to seek joy, even on the unlit pathways strewn before us.

For the past fourteen years, The Husband and I have been focused on growing our family. With the onset of aging, and my reproductive abilities most likely behind us, we must transition to this new phase of settling in with the beautiful family we’ve built, and closing the door to adding any additional members to our team. The signs have been there for some time now, and we are learning to accept and move forward with great purpose, dousing the flame of “trying again,” laying all that we were striving for to rest. Always open to life, we would never say, “No” if the miracle of conception occurred once more, though, we believe that the likelihood of pregnancy happening again is slim-to-none.

Together, we move forward in what awaits us, graced to raise and cherish those lives we’ve been entrusted to care for, and joyful for the opportunity to dote on all new beings in our family circle, such as the recent birth of our great-nephew.  Change feels good, welcomed and peaceful, even. To not feel so raced against an hourglass of rushed pursuit every month and year that passes? Grateful rest. Having the sensations of feeling complete and whole as we are? Appreciative contentment. To hold and cherish a deeper respect for myself, my abilities, and the gifts I embody as a woman, wife, and mother? Self-aware confidence. To fathom that our dream was achieved and acknowledging The Husband and I conquered a great feat and won? Triumphant joy.

Some unchartered territory beckons before me that may not be paved in effervescent gold; certainly not. Although the newfound direction may surprise my wildest visions, I absolutely anticipate encountering loose gravel, hilly terrain, and perhaps a boulder or two to either push against with all my might, or climb atop—triumphantly, mightily, and with a strength found only from deep within me, built from all these years ascending mountainous trials I never expected to encounter. The scars and losses that sketch the landscape of my being are pure and organic; a heartbreaking fissure in my forever self. Despite the crosses I’ve been asked to carry, I still delight in the beauty that has emerged–more natural and miraculous than I could have ever envisioned. Life has deepened in meaning and purpose, and I will continue to seek out the joy in all that is left to live.

 

Lighting Hope with a Wave of Light Across the Globe

15 Saturday Oct 2016

Posted by in Memories, Miscarriage, Motherhood, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, October 15th, Past, Peace, Perspective, Tough days, Wave of Light

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

God puts rainbows in the clouds so that each of us – in the dreariest and most dreaded moments – can see a possibility of hope. ~Maya Angelou 

In loving memory of all our children gone too soon. They remain forever in our hearts. 


#waveoflight2016

This, too, Shall Pass—One Day, it will

08 Saturday Oct 2016

Posted by in Authors, Change, Infertility, Miscarriage, Motherhood, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month, Peace, Personal Challenges, Personal health, Reading, Seasons, SIDS, Tough days

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

“We do not have control over many things in life and death but we do have control over the meaning we give it.” ― Nathalie Himmelrich, Grieving Parents: Surviving Loss as a Couple

 

For over a decade now, I’ve scoured the shelves of my local library and bookstores for the types of literature that speak of women’s suffering—especially, the stories of women whom have grieved over losing a child.  In 2004, I found myself part of a community that I did not want to belong to, a reluctant joiner. Reading about how other woman had lost their babies didn’t make me more depressed about my miscarriages, no. Actually, knowing I was not alone, that support existed, and that my feelings, experiences, physical and emotional wounds, and attitude about what I was going through was quite normal—all of it became an integral part of my healing journey. Our stories, no matter how painful they may be, need to be shared.

Miscarriage and infertility has affected me in dire ways. When I lost my first child, I knew I would never be the same. Honestly, I thought I would never get over the physical, not to mention, emotional toll losing her did to me. It wrecked me so. Yet, I survived it, five times more, even.

Today, I can reflect on the journey and realize, that with each baby loss, my capacity for compassion and empathy, tolerance and patience toward others, and myself, has grown in ways that may never have occurred if I hadn’t lost so much. The woman I am today is simultaneously stronger and softer, because of the suffering I have endured.

What I have learned along the way, with each subsequent baby loss, is that you must, must, must—only when you are ready—speak of your loss, share your story, and let your heart grieve in all the zig-zag ways it will. I’m so thankful for those book authors and bloggers I discovered, and for their courage to scratch open their wounds of baby loss to help me, and others like me, grieving a miscarriage and a child lost far too soon.

Once you open yourself up to the truth of your loss, you will begin to heal. You’ll cease feeling haunted by the what if’s. What could I have done to prevent this? What should I have done differently? Will this happen again?

In sharing your story, you will find that you are not alone in the loneliest, most shockingly isolated time of your life. People will begin to open up about how miscarriage and infant loss has affected them, as well. You will discover that a friend of a friend has lost multiple children, too. That a college friend has lost a niece to SIDS. That your elderly neighbors lost their first child, and a set of twins, at six months along. Your best friend will struggle to get pregnant for the first time. She’ll go on to have a beautiful girl, and when ready to try again after a healthy pregnancy, she will struggle with secondary infertility and her own repeat miscarriages. Your college roommate, who lives 3,000 miles away from you, will text you a devastating message that she just lost her third, and she is giving up all hope of opening up her heart and womb to another chance at bringing life into the world.

You will begin to become jaded, thinking about nothing other than all of these gut-kicking losses—and how none of it makes any sense. All the suffering is overwhelming—just too much. Much too much. Though, you must find the will and the way to carry on.

This is where you allow the stories of so many other parents’ heartbreaking losses reach you, speak to you, guide, inform, and empower you to move on—although, forever changed. Prayer is a healer, too. (So is a little  self-care and more frequent indulgences, such as luxurious bubble baths, weekly massage, an afternoon movie, pilates and yoga class, and more nature hikes.)

One morning, you will wake up and find your footing and breath once again. You will gain strength, and surprise yourself with your resilience. Some of that resolve you will gather from your newfound community of loss. You will learn to reveal your pain in healthy ways, and begin to be able to offer comfort and support to others’ going through the nightmare of miscarriage, and losing a child. You will. You may not want to be the baby loss expert, but your loss has enormous purpose, and your baby’s life has tremendous meaning—especially because he or she lived such a short time.

You can be brave and find treasure in the tragedy. You can turn your loss into hope for yourself and others. You can find a glimmer of hope in the murk of despair.

You will smile again. I promise you, you will. You will be able to face a shopping trip inside a mom- and baby-filled Target, and for once pass the baby section without bursting into tears. You will, one day, be able to stop sending regrets for the baby shower invites of beloved friends and family members growing their families without trouble or tragedy. You’ll actually one day want to hold those new infants in your arms, and will be able to without grief washing over you like a waterfall of despair. You will find yourself truly happy for your friends and family, and these new lives. You will.

Don’t rush the grieving process, though. You take your time, knowing you’ll get to a place of peace and hope in your own way. One day—you will. Maybe not today, maybe not even by next October. However, one day—your day—will come. I promise you that.

What has helped you reach a level of peace and hope after losing a child? 

.