Family Planning

Fair Warning: I am about to get all kinds of Catholic up in here. And this is a post I have bitten my lip about SO many times in the past... not because I'm afraid of how people will react, but because this is not a "Catholic" blog. This is my creative space. While I deeply love my Catholic faith, and it absolutely shapes my whole life, I love having so many non-Catholic readers because it widens the conversation. I have had many enriching, uplifting exchanges with all kinds of beautiful people who come from all kinds of different backgrounds, and I want to keep it that way! 
So if you are not at all interested in Catholic biznass, just check back next week for more of my normal floaty "I love life" posts. lol. No hard feelings! I don't write this post out of preachiness or even self-righteousness... I just want to force myself to once and for all express my own thoughts on this topic that have kept popping up in the last 3 years and been quietly thought about and never publicly shared.  Bear with me.
When I first named this blog way back when I was pregnant with Will,  I was well-aware that my new title was also a token conservative Catholic catchphrase. One of those terms you let loose casually when meeting new Catholics to kind of, "test the waters". If you're talking to a "liberal" Catholic, you get a stepping back an inch reaction, with some stuttering and changing of topics. Or just brow-furrowing and confused looks. If you're talking to a "conservative" Catholic, you generally get some sort of veiled question as to why you don't have 5 under 5. At times, there seems to be a bit of an "all or nothing" stance taken by most Catholics when it comes to this very grey area... Either a Catholic dismisses it altogether and just decides "contracepting is what works for me!" or they take up their battle-axes and start shouting at everyone about what "grave reason" means.
Clearly, I don't have 5 under 5. Nor do I feel there is any call to do so for me. My firstborn will be 2 and a half when Baby Henry makes his appearance, and I am so excited they will be close, but the idea of a closer age gap than that is enough to give me a minor panic attack. Literally. I know myself well enough to know this would not be a pretty scenario. At least, not at this stage in my life. I may be a huge wimp, but there are some things that are very sacred to me and my relationships with my husband and children that I know I could not retain without some prayerful and prudent family planning.  Jason and I talk a lot about the family God is calling us to have. Its a present and future thing. We love making babies and we love raising them. This is an exciting and awesome season in our lives. And we have NO clue how many or when God is going to call us to have. However, we approach it as something we have to consciously discern and say "yes" to each time. 
So here my blog has this "catchphrase" title and I am clearly not using it the way I am sure a lot of Catholics come on here thinking I will... just un-family-planning, basically, and approaching the whole thing like, "I signed up for this when I got married, now I just have to ride the track I stepped on". Maybe that is how God calls individual couples to approach it, but this is not how I understand the Church to say everyone must see it. Which begs the question, how do I see this phrase myself? How do I live it out?
"With regard to physical, economic, psychological and social conditions, responsible parenthood is exercised by those who prudently and generously decide to have more children, and by those who, for serious reasons and with due respect to moral precepts, decide not to have additional children for either a certain or an indefinite period of time." - Humanae Vitae, sec. 10 
The USCCB expresses the meaning of this paragraph a little more simply: 
"Living according to God‘s design for love and life does not mean that married couples cannot plan their families. The principle of responsible parenthood describes the way spouses can work with God‘s gift of fertility. Rooted in the objective moral order which was established by God, spouses can recognize their own duties towards God, themselves, their families and human society as they decide when to try to achieve a pregnancy or conclude that there are sufficiently serious reasons to justify postponing one." 

- via this awesome Pastoral Letter on "Marriage: Love and Life in the Divine Plan"

I believe the old translation of this beautiful papal encyclical from the 60's used the term "grave reason", a term that has naturally caused a lot of anxiety and confusion in the modern English-speaking world. We do not use the word "grave" synonymously with "serious" these days. It no longer just means "not a laughing matter" or "shouldn't be taken lightly." We use it to describe life-threatening situations - a grave car accident would death or hanging by a thread in the ICU. A grave diagnosis from your doctor would bring your heart in your throat as you wait to hear what cancer you have.

The Church in her wisdom changed the translation for us [I believe it was rather recently... but I know that even on the Vatican Website this change to the encyclical's translation has taken effect]. But somehow I still hear that term thrown around, and generally, when this happens, its rather critically. It always always comes up when people discuss what it means to plan your family, to work with your fertility, as a modern young Catholic.

For some reason, everyone thinks that what everyone else needs is this or that theologian's brilliant explanation of what it means to "be open to life". And you get a lot of dogma and teaching and helpful tracts thrown archly in your lap. Most of which, if you are even discussing the topic, you have already read and accepted. 
And this is where I think we Catholics are really missing the ball.  We fall into thinking we each just need to get out our own "correct" opinion on what a Catholic family should look like, and everyone will be the wiser... when really, this very attitude is ignoring the nature of the Church's teachings on marriage and family planning.
If your brother told you he was struggling with discerning whether or not he was called to the priesthood... you wouldn't throw Catechism paragraphs about the meaning of the priesthood at him, as if knowing the teachings would just make everything magically clear for him! No! You would recognize right away that this is a question of personal surrender to the Will of God... a question of simply figuring out what His Will is. I'm guessing you'd probably respond by sharing your own story of how you discerned your vocation, and maybe a story of a friend who discerned a different one. And you'd encourage him that he's doing great just discerning at all; you'd most likely tell him you'll be praying for him to have peace in following God's unique plan for his life. You'll assure him that God will not leave him hanging - He'll let him know. His Will is our peace.
That is what Natural Family Planning entails for me... It's as much a discernment as when I spent a season of my life praying and trying to figure out if I was called to be a Dominican sister. The only difference is, it's every month! Except for this nice quiet season that I'm pregnant and the 6 months after Baby comes that I will be infertile. But it won't be long before this is again on the table to be discerned and prayed about by my husband and I. 
Just because you discerned you were called to marriage and embraced that call does not mean you know how many children you are called by God to welcome into your lives, and the timing of when you should do so. Obviously at this point, its not a question of whether you're being called to "be fruitful and multiply"... and that is where the openness to life comes in big time...  But it is still a huge question of when and how many times! Taking this question seriously, knowing there are many factors - personal limitations of you and your spouse (physical, emotional and spiritual), providing for the education and nourishment of your children - both in the present moment AND 13 years from now when you may have a houseful of teenagers with very different needs!... there are a host of things, of responsibilities, that you and your spouse can only know when you're there, and only God can prepare you for. 
You may get a few surprises - actually, its unlikely that you won't get a lot of surprises! - for instance, many couples get married and then find out making babies is going to take much, much longer for them than they thought. Infertility is a cross that we have zero preparation for in our culture, because we all unwittingly buy the lie that we're pummeled with as young women - "You are by default super fertile and unless you control this disease you will definitely have 15 kids". Even for us "conservative" Catholics, most of us don't realize that true fertility is precious, a gift, and rarer than you'd think. 
Some couples are given honeymoon surprises like Jason and I were. 

I wouldn't trade this boy for all my former plans. 

But I still feel a certain joy and excitement that I get to keep dreaming. I get to keep discerning. I get to keep choosing to say "yes" to what I learn God is offering Jason and I. How do we do this? How do we approach this and know that we're doing it right, and not selfishly?

We don't.

My much-smarter-friend Theresa pointed out in an email convo about this topic, 

"If only we were infallible in all of our decisions." Damn, I thought. She is so right! We aren't and we can't ever think we are! And that is something I have felt is often missing from too many blogposts and articles and talks about NFP. 

The awareness of our own fallibility should help us understand why we must remain open as we go about our lives, planning for our futures, embracing our presents. We abide in the life of the Church... we remain in a state that we can receive the grace poured out for us. We take our sinfulness and our selfishness and our weak fallibility to the merciful throne of God each day. We unite ourselves to Him through prayer and the sacraments as often as possible in our busy lives. We strive to live in the world and not of it, such a uniquely difficult cross in our vocation of marriage. We can't just comfortably cut the world off. We have to live in it, work in it, love in it, raise kids in it. And still constantly battle the creeping contagion of selfishness that we are surrounded by. But we don't just throw out the charts and the plans and the whole discernment process because we are afraid of our own fallibility.

On our wedding day three years ago, in that glorious golden moment up on the altar before God and everybody, Jason and I held hands and looked into each others eyes (streaming with happy tears), and when the priest asked us, "Will you accept children lovingly from God, and bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?" we said, "I do".  And there was not the slightest begrudging halt in either of our hearts. It was so clear up there in that moment that God had a plan for us, for our own family, that He had had this plan for us since our own coming into being. A plan as beautiful and intrinsically apart of who we are as His plan that brought us so miraculously and romantically together. And the process of discerning and charting and praying and communicating as we go about our lives as this little family is all tailored to help us do exactly that... accept children lovingly. With responsibility and self-sacrifice and joyful recognition that they are not just numbers - they are persons with unique needs and gifts.  

This is how Jason and I do it - how we plan our family, how we practice openness to life. Not by anxiously or arrogantly studying lists or pamphlets or other people's opinions. There is a season and a time and place for studying Church teaching. And for refreshers of that teaching. And there is a season and time and place for just [just?!] growing in our personal relationships with the Lord Jesus. I love the Catechism, but I recognize that too much theology can keep me, like those good ole Pharisees, from growing in my relationship with Christ - it can distract me from just the Gospel. Just reflecting on the Person who lives and breathes and speaks through those red letters. We need this simplicity. 

And we need each other. 

This is what so many of us get so wrong. I've been guilty too! We get so focused on the nitty gritty reasons, on the logic, on the Catholic teaching, that we forget this is a question of relationship. It is a question of personal discernment. And each family is going to look as different as each priest, each religious order. And that's the beauty of it all. The girl who gives away everything and lives among the poor in Mother Teresa's order of Sisters of Charity is no holier than the girl who becomes a Dominican nun in the beautiful Dominican convent teaching clean, well-off children in private school. We are all called to different things - different crosses, different joys. What was it St. Therese said about the little wild flowers and the big roses? 

“I understood that every flower created by Him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy. I understood that if all the lowly flowers wished to be roses, nature would no longer be enamelled with lovely hues. And so it is in the world of souls, Our lord's living garden.” 

- St. Therese of Lisieux

There are absolutely families out there who, like the girl called to be a Sister of Charity, are called to welcome "5 under 5", or "3 under 3", or a whole lot more children total than those around them. I see that, I do, and I truly admire it. But this does not mean they are embracing a greater holiness, or that I should look at them and feel guilted into gritting my teeth and closing my eyes and muttering, "Ok, whatever" when it comes to having another baby. We have to respond with a free will to God's inspiration, His intimate call, in order to bear fruit in our own lives. 

We need the encouragement of hearing about our different callings, our different crosses, as Katie of NFP and Me so beautifully pointed out in her refreshingly simplistic approach to the topic. Honestly - its challenging and inspiring and calming at the same time to hear about each other's personal struggles and gifts. And we shouldn't be afraid when we share it that people will respond with pamphlets and documents and pick apart our words. We are not infallible.  We are working on it. We are simply striving to know what God is asking of each of us and praying to have the courage to say Yes. 

Of all the teachings and preachings about this topic, what speaks to my heart the most besides a few powerful scripture verses, is the following by our late Pope Benedict:
“Are we not perhaps all afraid in some way? 

If we let Christ enter fully into our lives, if we open ourselves totally to him, 
are we not afraid that He might take something away from us? 
Are we not perhaps afraid to give up something significant, 
something unique, something that makes life so beautiful? 
Do we not then risk ending up diminished and deprived of our freedom? . . . 
No! 
If we let Christ into our lives, 
we lose nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing 
of what makes life free, beautiful and great. 
No! 
Only in this friendship are the doors of life opened wide. 
Only in this friendship is the great potential of human existence truly revealed. 
Only in this friendship do we experience beauty and liberation.
 And so, today, with great strength and great conviction,
 on the basis of long personal experience of life,
 I say to you, dear young people: Do not be afraid of Christ! 
He takes nothing away, and he gives you everything. 
When we give ourselves to him, we receive a hundredfold in return. 
Yes, open, open wide the doors to Christ
 – and you will find true life.” 

- Pope Benedict XVI

I read this now and I feel the same full-body-goosebumps of challenge and excitement and peace that I felt when I used to read it in college, anxiously discerning whether I had a religious vocation (talk about terrifying!). The older I get in my life, the more I realize how these opportunities for discernment force us to learn so much about God and about ourselves and about His love for us. I don't think I will ever outgrow the need for discernment.

Only in a growing friendship with Christ can we know what He wants for us, for our individual vocations, for our own families. Only in this friendship can we figure out what beautiful life He has in mind for us. Its never just a "track" that we resign ourselves to riding out without any further deliberation. And its never through gritted teeth and clenched fists. It may look small and unheroic in comparison to someone else's... or it may look crazy and chaotic!... but if you feel like you can and must freely choose it (not just once and for all and you're stuck with it), if you take the time and embrace the freedom to discern whether its God's will for you, then I believe your life will be beautiful and free and great.

This, to me, is what Being Open to Life is all about. This is why I picked this controversial catchphrase to be the title for my very simple and easygoing blog... because I am doing this, in my own way, in every area of my life, and I want that to be the defining essence of my life as my little family grows up. Its about figuring out daily, in the joys and tears of the present moment, what exactly is the Abundant Life God has in mind for you and your own family, and choosing to say yes with a grateful heart. 

A Newly Minted Marine and Historic Beaufort

As if to challenge every drop of energy that is left in the last few days of my precious second trimester, my life has flown into a higher gear than I thought I could handle. But I'm loving it. Just trying to find some ways to decompress a little! 

This past weekend was my little brother Malachi's graduation from Marine bootcamp on Parris Island. 

I have written several times about the special place in my heart for this particular brother... like the "Mama's Little Helper" oldest daughter that I was, I have mothered and adored all of my siblings in a unique (obnoxious to them) way. But I've always just had this soft spot for Chi. Its tough to explain. Although if this were my other brother, Moses, I'd honestly be saying the same thing. I think I am very deeply connected to my two brothers who came right after me. We grew up doing everything together - fighting constantly, tattling, making traps for the "bully" across our street, getting into trouble tormenting the babysitter, crying laughing, making my mother SO mad with all of our bathroom jokes (for the record anything is STILL automatically funny when it includes the word "fart" or "butt". I have tried to grow into more ladylike behavior to no avail. My brothers' ruined me.), teasing each other about crushes, etc. 

Watching my brother's serious face during the marching of his graduation brought me to tears... he is so grown up!!! The kid we called "The Giggle Box" because he would laugh uncontrollably at the slightest attempt to tickle him - learned to be impassively serious and appropriately intense over a short 13 week bootcamp. I can't believe he did it. 

"Is this how you felt when I got married?" I whispered loudly over the marching band to Moses. 

"Yeah, dude!" he smiled. "Weird, isn't it?!"

The weekend was filled with lots of happy crying, hearing Malachi tell us all his best bootcamp tales in a cracked, hoarse voice, eating too much delicious fresh shrimp for dinner and fresh (hot) homemade donuts from a little shop up the road for breakfast (Liz Lemon would've cried). We were so blessed to be hosted by Malachi's boss Mr. Rozelle, who goes to St. Mary's with my family and owns a Granite and Fine Stone company in Easley. He and his cute wife Judy have a sweet little house in the historic section of Beaufort... and it was unreal. I was prepared to be amazed because I knew that, unlike the Holy City (Charleston), Beaufort surrendered early in the Civil War and so retained much of its original Antebellum architecture... but it was truly jaw-dropping walking through the old neighborhood. 

This is the front shot of where we stayed and the best picture I got, because all resolutions to the contrary, I was too happy and busy crying over my brother to remember to snap much:

It was just lovely. The old trees and spanish moss were unbelievable to me.

We walked alot together, despite the unseasonably cool weather (the highs were in the low 60's!) and the constant drizzle of rain. But everything was green and quiet and perfect for what we needed - to spend time loving on Chi as a family before his next step. 

I have even more craziness ahead to get working on... I am so excited that my other favorite brother is coming to live in our guest bedroom for a few months after his graduation this coming weekend from Belmont Abbey! He wants to get on his feet with his new job and save some money, etc... Jason starts school again tomorrow evening, and even though I am fully expecting Moses to be gone alot with his job (he is working with the events and marketing of a big national radio station syndicate), I am happy to have a little bit more company around. 

I'm planning a small graduation party for my family on Saturday as I type this... it'll be awesome. Though not sure if I can replicate the hot donuts. They will have to live on in our memories of beautiful old Beaufort. 

Getting Back into the Water: Swimming Preggas

Three weeks ago, I slipped into the cold, chlorinated water, smacked my rubber swim cap over my ears, pressed my fingers firmly against the eyes of my goggles, and crouched against the wall underwater [arms pointed forward, fingers cupped together] to push off into swimming my first mile since... since... gracious, I think since sometime in the spring semester of my Senior year of college.   We joined the Y mostly for Will's sake - I am realizing he is fast outgrowing our ability to stay contentedly at home (minus a few exciting shopping trips and biblestudies) on a weekly basis. He needs to get out. I'm not ready to put him in preschool yet, partly because all the preschools I liked were a bit above our budget, but mostly because I figured that would start him right after Baby Henry arrives, and I think any unnecessary changes to our routine might upset the general equilibrium. Plus, I have good reason to believe his immune system would take a serious beating at first, and I'm not willing to do that with a brand spankin' new baby in tow. And I love the idea of taking Will to the outdoor pool all summer, signing him up for little classes, giving him a chance to make friends and be in a new environment. And helping him learn to swim!
Anyway, the timing worked out for joining the Y because I am in need of a little cardio boost in addition to the Tracy Anderson workouts. Tracy definitely leaves me feeling it in my muscles, but my true loves are long cardio-centric endurance workouts. That's my thing. When you can zone out and just lose track of time and feel the endorphins rushing through your system as your muscles contract and stretch and your lungs struggle to catch up. The longer the better, in my book. 
I have never really seen workouts as this "no pain no gain" thing. I like to do workouts that I simply love doing. Yeah it still takes discipline and motivation; I still have to push myself really hard, and it is still work. But if I don't get enough sensory enjoyment during the workout, I feel a little like a hamster in a wheel: trapped and disgusted that I have to do this in order to balance out other factors of my American lifestyle - driving everywhere, watching TV on the couch, eating Chickfila, etc. For me, it quickly begins to feel like a vicious, unenjoyable cycle. This is why I avoid the treadmill like the plague, and why I have never gotten into weight lifting or the machines. Is that just really weird of me? My girlfriends who swear by weight lifting and intense short workouts would probably feel the same horror about a long sweaty run. :) To each his own for sure!
I just cherish the many memories I have made over the years from, of all things, my workouts! Whether that was long bike rides in the lazy farmland of the Foothills countryside with my mom... or mountain biking, literally up mountains and root-corrupted trails, under tunnels of sweet mountain laurel and around boulders, as a counselor at Kahdalea in the Blue Ridge Mountains... or lacing up my shoes and shimmying into my sports bra to go running in the early mornings pretty much everywhere I find myself - the beach on vacation, my grandma's Colonial Williamsburg historic neighborhood, the Greenway trails in Charlotte... or finally, swimming laps in the cool, clear blue water of the Y where I grew up. 
Lap-swimming brings back waves of memories for me. I believe it must be that strong smell of the chlorine, smell being our most nostalgic sense.  
I grew up in a pool. My parents are both lap-swimmers and exercise fanatics, and have been my entire life. I can't remember a time we didn't have a family membership to the Y... where my five younger brothers and sisters and I all took swim lessons year round and piled into our blue '88 Suburban with squeals to go to the outdoor pool nearly every day from May to August... where we had underwater tea parties and Sharks & Minnow's games, and there was always a favorite lifeguard or swim coach who could be counted on to toss my brother and I in the deep-end as we shrieked with terrified delight. I always loved the atmosphere of fun 80's music over the loudspeaker, families laughing together, and even the occasional excitement of a bolt of lightning or a clap of threatening thunder that would chase us all under the umbrellas for 20 minutes, eating cheap freezie pops and staining our mouths blue, until we could all race (Walk, don't run!!!) at the first whistle, splashing back into the water. 
I was a lifeguard in college for three different Y's, and it is a sucky job for the precise reason that it is a great big-family option... they do their best to make it cheap. Therefore, I realized two weeks into my summer that this was literally THE WORST job I could've taken with my goal to save money for the upcoming school year. But it was too late to get a better summer job at that point - so I just resigned myself to enjoy all the things I have always loved about the Y... the healthy, clean environment, the children who come prepared from experience to adore their teachers and lifeguards, and the kindness of the people who volunteer their time to create a sense of community. 
I have loved lap-swimming since I was 12; in fact, swimming a mile was my main fitness routine in college, before I fell in head over heels for running...  but I never knew how good it could feel until I started swimming pregnant. My new body no longer feels foreign or awkward when muscle-memory kicks in and I paddle into a steady rhythm for free-style, breast-stroke, and back... stretching out my arms, cupping my hands, kicking from my hips, breathing in cadence. I use the counting tactic my friend Ariel came up with when we used to swim laps at 6 in the morning before classes - dividing the 36 laps of a mile into 6 sets of 6 - (2 laps freestyle, 1 lap breast, 2 laps backstroke, 1 lap breast). I still manage to mess it up sometimes with my adorable pregnant brain, but mostly it breaks up the mile to feel really fast, and the sets are just simple and short enough to make it easy to keep track of.
I am slow, much slower than I used to be, but I am steadier than many of the swimmers around me and rarely need to break, which makes me feel a little exhilarated in my vanity. I feel the baby move inside of me sometimes as I stretch out weightless in the water, though its only in the beginning, and I wonder if the rhythmic movement of my body for 45 minutes lulls him to sleep.
Just as with all my favorite forms of exercise... running, cycling, swimming... I have time to get into the zone, to fall into a steady rhythm, and then I can daydream, pray, think. Unlike the other two, however, swimming forces me into silence... Into a state of quiet with the white noise of my splashes and the vibrations in the water. In the span of each set, I find myself going from a therapeutic focusing on my muscles and helping my body feel the workout from head to toe, to flickering images of old memories that involve holding your breath and opening your eyes in the blurry, eerie underwater, and snorting chlorine accidentally up your nose... to finding myself in thoughtful reflection and even quiet prayer.
I suspect that of all my chlorine-filled memories of swimming, these next 3 months may become may favorite. Swimming preggas unites my desperate desire to do something with my lagging body, my need to burn energy and release stress, to my need to just relax and release the strain on my back and belly. 
To rest and feel happy and content at my stage in life, at my unique limitations,  and still, to feel so empowered at what I am able to do. To get a second wind even as I get a second to just breathe and release the tension. I hope this will carryover into labor, to my second wave of experiencing motherhood. Either way, its addicting in the moment! I am going 3-4 times a week without hesitation, and doing the Tracy Anderson DVDs every other day. Somehow I know I will always look back at this happy, sunny spring when I was a young mom of a toddler and 6 months pregnant, and I waddled dove back into the water after 3 long years. 

A Long Walk Down Ole Memory Lane

I started this past weekend with the sobering realization that I needed a major lesson in gratitude. 
"I discover that slapping a sloppy brush of thanksgiving over everything in my life leaves me deeply thankful for very few things in my life." - 1000 Gifts

That was me, too. 

I am a naturally optimistic person, but I think I tend to find optimism by looking forward. It can be challenging to find it right here, right now.

This is exam week for my husband, after a particularly challenging semester for him, academically speaking. And I miss him! On Sundays, our little family has had a longstanding tradition of going to the earliest mass at 7:30 am, getting coffee and bagels afterwards in the quiet morning (and a cookie to reward Will for any however feeble attempts at good behavior), and going for a long walk in our favorite park and its surrounding historic Charlotte neighborhood. 

Its almost always sunny on Sunday mornings. The streets are still sleepy, though the birds are increasingly louder as we slip into full-blown spring. We are alone with the exception of the occasional boxer-clad man letting his dog out with a yawn and a sleepy wave. We have walked for as many as 3 hours in this way. Will sometimes takes a little catnap in his BOB when he tires of aiming his little pointer-finger out from under the hood of the stroller at every cat or dog we pass, with dramatic intensity. Jason and I sip our coffee's as we stride briskly along the sidewalks, admiring our favorite old houses and dreaming out loud together. 

Besides dreaming of the vast, anything-can-happen future that sprawls mysteriously ahead of us, we talk about the past week, everything we may have been too tired or distracted to share, and we plan for the coming one... everything from the budget to doctor's visits, to study groups, to writing deadlines, to meal plans.

Obviously, my best-friend of a husband couldn't walk with us this weekend. But I was determined that I couldn't hang out at home anymore. When I do that, Monday comes and feels like the second Monday in a row I get to experience. Yippee.

I packed a "Nack" for Will (his favorite - white cheddar popcorn), and we drove out to Queens after his nap, picking up Jason's favorite huge spicy steak burrito from Chipotle. Ok I may have gotten a chicken and pinto burrito with guac on the side for myself as well. Sue me. I'm preggas. 

Jason had entrenched himself in the prettiest, windowiest classroom of the MBA building. It is a small circular "tower" room with walls of tall windows. We came in and said hi to him, and sat with him while he ate. Will managed to grab a pencil and leave the Mark of Will on an innocent desk. 

Then we left reluctantly, after a few hundred good-luck kisses, to the great frustration of the little man who plants himself between us on the ground and pushes against our legs with the ferocity of a small oxen. 

I loved feeling like I was near Jason as he worked. And I am so grateful to have Will on these days. I was surprised and delighted by how much he wanted to talk to me as we walked our route Daddy-less.

"No mo' nack!" - his latest phrase, of which he is pleased as punch.

His nack left a white cheddar residue all over his grubby paws, which greatly frustrated him. "Yucky doorty, Mommy." 

His intense little pointer-finger shot up to show me every airplane overhead (this dude's eyesight is unreal, though his word for airplane is totally unspellable and I have no idea where it came from - it sounds kind of like dior-dior? kind of?), every blossoming flower "wowa, wowa Mommy", every animal "meoww! caw-caw!". 

He listened with a gravely thoughtful face to everything I told him. He gave me a few polite kisses when we got back to the car after an hour. 

I'm sorry to bore anyone looking for something interesting to read with all this baby talk, but on my walk with this rapidly-growing son of mine, I realized with a heartsick thud how fast this season is speeding by... this sweet little season of just Will and I. I believed all those wise old mama's who said to me, "It flies by!", I did. I guess I thought it would feel just a little bit longer, since I really have attempted to live it to the full from the first skin-to-skin contact we had, when he was placed in my arms right after his first loud scream, and began blindly, instinctively rooting around with his starving mouth on my skin. I remember he lifted his head all the way up in his intensity as he banged it on me, trying to find his source of food, causing a gasp of astonishment from the nurses in our room. So strong and so intense.

How did we get from there to here?! The days have felt so long. The weeks too, sometimes. But then here we are, and I know once this new baby is born, Will will grow up even more overnight. Much as I can't wait to see him as a proud, bossy big brother, I would lie if I said I didn't tear up every time I realize my baby, my first baby, is being pried away from me daily, with each new milestone of growth. That's such a dramatic, pregnant way to put it! Dear Lord. 

 I want to cling to it, to soak it in, to write it down in every little minute detail. We have had so much time together in the past two years. We have come so far from the long, sleepy days of neverending breastfeeding, when my little black-haired baby would yell indignantly at me if I took seconds too long to get him attached and nursing. He would take a few desperate gulps and then lift his head again to shout at me in anger before nursing vigorously some more. (This is when I nursed him on the hour, so the dramatics were laughable). Those days of milk-drunk babies and sleep-deprived haze, of chubby thighs that cannot yet crawl and constant contact... days that I relive reading about Sarah's life with her little Liam. (My favorite, favorite new blog! I am just trying to control the major girl-crush I am developing on this sweet new mama and amazing writer.)

Little Will, who in his absolute bossiness and quick temper, earned the nickname "Mr. Baby" within weeks of his debut to the world, was always this ball of intensity, from day one, and I do feel that he has prepared me for anything this next baby could bring. At least, my goodness I hope so! With his strong-willed determination, his independence and his intelligent interest in the world, he has become the dearest, most interesting little companion I could've asked for with his Daddy so busy. 

And I am so thankful. Had I gone with my plans as I prepared to marry the love of my life at 21, had I waited on a baby while Jason started school and got his career really solidified, I would have missed out on more than I can begin to count. If I have to sacrifice time with the man who makes me happier than anybody else in the world, I am so happy to have our Mr. Baby to talk to and kiss all day. He really isn't Mr. Baby any longer, though I am choking up acknowledging this. He's just Will - a small child with a will of iron, an impressive ability to get filthier than any living creature without even trying, and a whole lot to say about everything.  And when I think about how much I will love having him there with me as I get ready for a new newborn stage, I am unbelievably grateful. My days will be long and probably just as full of sleepiness and constant breastfeeding, but this time will have a sweet, interested little man to admire this new baby right alongside me, and he won't have to leave for work. ;) I know it will be beautiful, and I'll read this post later and laugh at my dramatic emotions, but still... I will be soaking up for dear life the last 3 and a half months Will and I have together as just us two. 

One Thousand Gifts

So much has been on my mind all week. 
This post is not about Boston, but I wanted to share this other post about Boston that really hit home for me. If you are or ever have been a passionate runner, you will especially love it. A friend who is a runner wrote that she is offering up her own training runs in prayer for the runners in Boston and their families. I love this running community, and I definitely have felt its impact in my own life. Praying for Boston.
My husband is in the tunnel of stress and heightened work that is the weekend before Exams. Ugh.  He already gets an A+ in my book, though - this man is one of the few people I know who don't lose their tempers and their patience with everyone around them when they are stressed. Not once has he snapped at Will or I, and our house has been a total disaster thanks to my own weariness trying to do everything without him. Which makes me feel worse because of all times that he needs an orderly environment, it would be right when I drop the ball. 
But I started reading 1000 Gifts this week even though I bought it like, 3 months ago, and I am starting everything fresh.

Picking up the book this week has been such a direct hit to my heart. It is so tough to swallow and yet fills you with such a thirst for this living in the present moment, this deepening of thanksgiving for your blessings as well as your burdens, whereas I have usually tended to try to thank God "in spite of". 
This section especially hit me over the head yesterday:

"... even for the bread and cup of cost, for cancer and crucifixion"... 
The subtitle of the book, "Dare to live fully, right where you are" sums up the challenge and conviction I feel when I read it. It is so easy to live for a series of tomorrow's  - when my ship comes in, when Jason is done with exams, when the baby comes, when... all these things in the future that I dangle in front of myself to keep me joyful are in fact keeping me from true joy? 
Ann (the author), finds this transformation when she starts making "The List" - "not of gifts I want but of gifts I already have." She has the most beautiful poetic things that she starts to notice in her quiet, simple farm life. 
Like so many others who read this book, I was compelled to start my own list just 30 pages in. Yesterday afternoon, a huge storm was rolling in. We went out to the front yard under a blackening sky, and Will did the first little raindance of his life, pointing up at the sky and shouting "Rain!" I taught him about clouds. We pointed at all the "Cowds" together, towering over the trees, and felt excitement for all the drops about to fall over us. 

the view looking up in our yard

I sat on my front step and I started my List.
1. For little feet dancing in green grass, waiting for spring rain to fall 2. For the wonder in blue eyes, looking up at storm clouds for the first time 3. For the smell of water in the wind 4. For a child's heart, that cries when he sees his mother crying, though he doesn't know why 5. For the canopy of leaves that sprung up on the barren trees almost overnight 6. For the excitement of airplanes flying overhead, invariably pointed out to me by my 2 year old, and the ability to imagine taking him for adventures... second best to actually going, this thrill of anticipation 7. For a quiet life that allows me to sit on my front step and wait for a rain storm, watching my child play 8. For a baby I haven't yet met, stirring inside my growing belly 9. For a swiftly passing season of more dreams than memories
The rest of my evening as the rain poured down, I was filled with this vivid sense of peace. It is so different from the temporary high of happiness. For me, it was an opening of my eyes to see all that is beautiful around me, even as I worked to clean my dirty house, even as I tasted the guilt of failure and the weight of anxiety. 
I can't wait to start a whole journal simply for my own list of 1000 gifts. I'm heading out to Barnes and Noble this morning, actually. I need this. In my thirst for the Beautiful Life, the truly Abundant Life, I tend to be susceptible to this temptation to greed, to restless striving for more. It is my very charismatic Catholic belief that Satan attacks us the most in the areas of our life that God blessed us uniquely, because he is just trying to get to God. I mean, Satan doesn't give two shits about any of us - he doesn't try to destroy our souls out of an interest in us, but out of the hatred for our God that consumes him. Not that I'm a theologian, but I just think it makes sense that if the devil can pervert that which makes us so especially beautiful and gifted, what better way to slap our Creator in the face?
I need this exercise in gratitude to better safeguard the pure desires of my heart that my God created me with. 
Especially during Exam Week. ;)

Kim Kardashian vs. Anna of IHOD ;)

I hit on a really, really hot trend with my decision to dress my bump with an independent spirit this go-round. Just this pregnancy, I have noticed so many articles and famous people going in the same direction. I am sharing a few top articles over on LiM today. As far as celebrities, Kim Kardashian is an example of the maternityshmernity concept gone very, very wrong.

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Poor Kim.  She looks uncomfortable and overweight when she could be looking radiant and relaxed. Much as I dislike the woman, I feel genuine compassion for her at this particular juncture of her insufferably public life.  A better example of Maternityshmernity is, naturally, the Duchess of Cambridge. Bless her. She is glowing. But pardon me for not finding her very helpful as inspo... sister is carrying a baby squirrel in there. Seriously. 
This is 5 months pregnant?

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However, she looks incredible, and I love how she maintains her signature style with such grace throughout this pregnancy. That's the real trick of this maternityshmernity thing... to figure out the balance of dressing like you while also accomodating (and accepting) the changes in your body [ahem, Kim K?].
However, Anna of IHOD is my current favorite example of Maternityshmernity done right.

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When Anna announced her own pregnancy,  I knew she would just be this glowing example of maternity style. Not to mention, she looks fantastic! 
And then, there's me:

One week shy of 6 months pregnant, wearing a J.Crew necklace and tank.

I am hardly a Kate Middleton or an Anna Liesemeyer

(I am pretty sure I look more pregnant than both of them and I'm at least one month behind lol). 

Honestly, I can relate to Kim K, who said she feels extra-challenged by maternity style since she has such big boobs and hips. While I have an unfortunately flat butt, I feel like I look like I have gained much more than I have thanks to the fact that its all front and center, right in the eye of the beholder. ;)

But regardless of the unique way I carry my babies, I am loving this pregnancy - and I think this is mostly thanks to my new approach to maternity wear.

 I love enjoying my own style of dressing and feeling finally capable of resisting the siren call of Yoga Pants. I feel like me, but with a new little life growing inside.

Check out the latest maternityshmernity post of my everyday outfit looks this pregnancy, 

(all J.Crew themed naturally, lol) 

and let us know what you think! 

Quick Update

Whew. Taking a long, longgggg breath. 
And inhaling all the pollen that keeps floating in through the windows that I just can't bring myself to close,  dusting-like-Cinderella to the contrary. 
I have woken up to a loud, loud chorus of birds outside our bedroom window every morning for the past week, and I feel so alive.

Life has been absolutely wonderfully crazy. I started this job writing for a local shopping and style site - its so much fun but is taking up alot of the time I used to use for blogging. However, it pays, soooo... ;) I am daily grateful to be able to continue to pursue writing. Not sure when in my life or why I just decided, "I am a writer"... but I did, its done, that's that. I feel like I never know what exactly I will be writing about in my life... I just know I will always have this need to respond to experiences and struggle to express my thoughts on paper.  This silly little exercise of blogging once/twice a week, has kept my writing abilities from getting too rusty. More importantly, it has kept me aware of my desire and ability to make time for real, difficult, gratifying writing.
I wanted to share this post that I had the honor of writing for Whitney Hetzel who does the blog 9 Kid Fitness. Whitney is one of the most inspiring mothers of my acquaintance... she has had, yes, 9 kids, the two eldest of whom are in the Naval Academy... 
she has the most cheerful, encouraging outlook on life, as I picked up on the coffee date I was able to have with her... she takes care of her body - she is super fit!... their family life revolves around fitness - swimming, soccer, running, cycling... they spend their free time together getting fresh air and endorphins. One early summer evening, I saw the whole bunch of them riding on bikes and scooters together on the Greenway. It was like a loud, hectic, incredibly attractive and fun-looking circus. 
As a mother, Whitney is clearly doing something right. Her daughter Annie, is, at 15, the best babysitter I have yet to find. You'd think being in the middle of such a big family, babies would be passe. But I come back from my evenings/afternoons out, and Annie has a bunch of pictures to show me on her phone that she took of Will because he was "being so cute!"
Anyways, I shared my experience with fitness this pregnancy on Whitney's (very big) blog. Some of it is taken from the first post I did here on "The Pregnancy Project", but most of it is freshly written and includes how the workouts are helping, differences I have noticed, etc. 
Check it out!