My husband and I have been on a mission this spring to befriend the neighborhood cardinals and have taken great care to keep our backyard feeder fully stocked with birdseed. Ever since I first came to Indiana I have savored each and every flash of scarlet wings that happens across my path but it wasn’t until this year that we took the time to investigate the Indiana state bird a bit. They are indeed named for their bright red feathers, reminiscent of the vestments worn by the cardinals of the Catholic Church. My husband and I also discovered that their ruby coloring is doubly appropriate as these are incredibly amorous birds who often mate for life. The male’s dazzling red coat is just one way in which he woos his beloved. Cardinal birds also grow up learning just a handful of birdsongs from their fathers which they must perfect in order to attract their one and only. Once they have, they become dedicated fathers themselves and providers for the nest, gathering food for their ladies and even taking turns sitting on the nest.
For many women, especially those approaching childbirth for the first time, any abnormality in you or your unborn child can feel like cause for alarm. Happily, not every finding in ultrasounds and prenatal visits poses significant risk to baby and such was the case for me. The only possibly alarming aspect of my pregnancy anomaly was how little research is available on the subject. I had an isolated single umbilical artery (ISUA). In simple terms, this means that my baby’s umbilical cord formed with one artery instead of the typical two and it was “isolated” because neither baby nor myself showed any indications of congenital conditions which are sometimes associated with SUA. I am not a doctor, midwife, nurse, doula or even an aspiring medical student. I do not seek to provide medical advice in the area of anomalous childbirth as I am certainly no expert but perhaps my experience can help to ease some mental tension for expectant mothers who happen to stumble upon this post
As previously mentioned, ISUA is not cause for worry. On its own it’s not even medically deemed a high risk pregnancy although a few studies indicate it may occur slightly more frequently in cases of twins. From what little information I could gather, ISUA occurs in about 1% of women and almost always results in a perfectly healthy baby. One small risk of ISUA is more rapid deterioration of the placenta, therefore depriving baby of essential nutrients toward the end of the third trimester. To monitor for this many providers will closely watch development and growth via extra ultrasounds and heartbeat monitoring. They will be very interested in information regarding baby’s movement and some providers may also recommend early induction. Some studies suggest ISUA might slightly increase the chance of c-section but there’s no clear consensus on whether this is actually linked to the abnormal umbilical cord or fetal distress brought on by early induction. In short, there is very little known information on ISUA but all sources agree that, excluding any additional risk factors, pregnancy, labor and birth are typically unaffected by this anomaly.
In light of all this as well as many conversations with my provider I approached childbirth feeling quite content about the anticipated safety of our baby girl and myself throughout the process. However, I was faced with a question which became a source of much deliberation during my third trimester. To induce or not to induce? The women in my immediate family have thus far been blessed with smooth, safe and even relatively brief natural labors for all of their births. I am of the opinion that the human female body is quite literally made to bear children and will generally do so just fine without intervention. Obviously complications can present themselves at any time for anyone which is also why I chose to birth in a hospital where extra care was readily available should it prove necessary.
Over the course of this pregnancy I also educated myself on the different methods of intervention as well as the risks associated with each. Among the women on my husband’s side, labor and delivery without an epidural are practically unthinkable. Modern technology has made leaps and bounds in ensuring the safety and even the relative comfort of mothers and babies during childbirth, an incredible feat for women everywhere. Nevertheless, I personally tend toward the natural approach. Each additional intervention comes with additional risks and side effects, rare and minor though they may be. Perhaps I’m a bit naive, never having given birth before, but from what information I’ve found, unmedicated births are often uncomplicated ones and this is the goal I’m striving for as the due date nears. However, there is no correct answer to childbirth, even one involving an anomaly like ISUA.
Throughout this pregnancy I’ve taken birth classes, read books, researched interventions and spoken with many mommas from all walks of life. All their stories are different and their advice similarly varying. There is no correct way to birth a child and I don’t think it’s for me or anyone else to pressure expectant mothers into decisions they aren’t comfortable with. This post is not a rule book or a blueprint for the perfect childbirth. If such a thing exists I haven’t found it. However, I do hope this post can impart a little peace of mind and a degree of confidence to the mommy readers. Regardless of what you hear or how many horror stories you find online, you were made for this. God shaped this beautiful miracle in your womb for a purpose and you absolutely do have what it takes to bring that baby into the world.
The Catholic Church is chock full of traditions which point its members toward God and holy living. Many of these traditions have experienced the ebb and flow of popularity over time. However, rare though they may be, they remain with us as tools to supplement the teachings of the Church. There seems to be a common misunderstanding among practicing Catholics, laity and clergy alike, that because practices such as veiling for women, attending traditional latin mass, or kneeling to receive communion are so rare in society that they have somehow been deemed verboten or at the very least things to be frowned upon. In truth, there is nothing liturgically incorrect about any of these habits. The societal insistence on denying them can be incredibly damaging to the evangelization of our upcoming generations as young Catholics are currently the ones flocking back to these more traditional methods of worship. Thus, today I would like to set the record straight about all three.
Veiling – I’ve received my share of funny looks when attending mass on account of my veil though, thankfully that has been the extent of my negative experience there. However, I know some of the ladies in my life have not been so lucky. Their decision to veil before the blessed sacrament has been called “ostentatious” by officials of the Church or else they were interrogated in somewhat less than civil tones over their reasons for veiling. Many priests today seem unable to fathom why any woman would choose to cover her head when approaching Christ in the sacraments.
The chief reason can be found in the question itself. As Catholics we believe that Christ is truly present in the sacraments, whether that be in the real body and blood of the Eucharist or as the person of Christ present as a priest administers confession. Our veils are not a means of showing off in church by flaunting our superior holiness as some seem to think. Rather, veiling is traditionally a practice which directs attention away from the beautiful women in the pews and instead puts the emphasis on Christ. Much like bowing before the altar, it is also a sign of deference to our Lord as well as a beautiful imitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I’ve discussed these and more reasons to veil in my post Why I Veil in Church but suffice to say that it’s hardly ostentatious for a woman to make this choice. It can more accurately be described as a feminine devotion to modesty.
Traditional Latin Mass – I first started attending latin mass before it became a common subject of debate among Catholic circles. I knew almost nothing about this kind of mass except that, in my experience, it had been incredibly beautiful, a reverent and genuine reenactment of Christ’s sacrifice. As I recently wrote about in Love Letter to the Latin Mass, every minute detail of this mass was gorgeously and thoughtfully orchestrated to point to our Lord. Once back at my home parish I briefly mentioned my experience to a few of my church friends. The response was a curt “that’s nice” before all three of them quite literally walked away from me. I was nonplussed. Still a baby Catholic and very recently converted at the time I couldn’t understand how something so beautiful could be deemed so taboo that it couldn’t even be discussed in narthex small talk. Novos ordo masses are of course perfectly valid and are often reverent and beautiful in their own right and I look forward to any opportunity to receive Christ. However, it was the beauty of traditions like the latin mass which ultimately ignited my faith.
Kneeling to receive on the Tongue – This practice has been the subject of controversy for two reasons. First, we are a society of efficiency and no one wants to hold up a line which is precisely how many view the decision to kneel. It’s true that kneeling does require a few extra seconds but this is one line which we ought never to rush. Receiving the true body of Christ in the Eucharist is not a chore. It’s not a box to be checked before heading off to the next errand. It is a necessity for the eternal salvation of our souls and one of the greatest blessings He ever gave us. To kneel is to show deference to His sacrifice which comes with the added bonus of being a much easier position from which to receive on the tongue. This brings us to the second objection many people have to this practice.
Particularly in our post COVID world, people are on high alert for germs. I’ve received some irritated frowns from extraordinary ministers and have even been scolded to “stick my tongue out farther” by a priest or two. In all honesty, there is no reason that the minister’s fingers need ever come into contact with anyone’s tongue though slip ups can occur. The fact is, this is the proper way that we Catholics should receive the Eucharist. Just as extraordinary ministers are to distribute communion in extraordinary circumstances (speeding up a long communion line is hardly extraordinary though has become commonplace), so should the practice of receiving on the hand be utilized. Receiving on the tongue is a safeguard for our own souls and for the preservation of the sacred Eucharist.
Traditionally, the priest was the sole distributor of communion for a very specific reason. His hands have been consecrated. His hands alone are clean and worthy to carry Christ during mass. Even the deacon’s hands have not been similarly blessed, much less those of the general laity. How could we possibly presume to hold God in our hands? By receiving on the tongue we avoid this dilemma. We also better ensure that each host is fully consumed then and there and not subjected to any further desecration or nefarious purpose, intentional or otherwise, when the assembly returns to the pews.
It’s little wonder that the Church is currently struggling to maintain young parishioners when proper practice and time-honored traditions are scoffed at. We believe that Christ is truly present in the sacraments, but we often fail to live as if that were true. Christ is our Lord, our God, our King. It’s high time we acted like it.
With the due date for our baby girl fast approaching everyone wants to know how I’m feeling. All the mommies in my life are excited to commiserate on all the aches and pains of third trimester pregnancy, the itchy stretch marks, the ill fitting clothes, the inability to sleep comfortably and of course the sad realization of one’s newly increased girth. I know countless women have faced these and many more discomforts during pregnancy and I don’t diminish them in the slightest. However, on the whole, I’ve been blessed with a very easy pregnancy. There were a couple of sleepless nights and I certainly haven’t been immune to feeling a bit bloated on occasion but in general I’ve felt remarkably well throughout this experience.
After a necessary closet reset I’ve found that I’m still perfectly able to move, get outdoors and do most of the things I enjoy. Evening strolls around the neighborhood are a welcome means of clearing my head, breathing in some fresh air and getting the blood flowing. I’ve also been able to savor all of my favorite foods, maintaining healthy eating habits, with only slight adjustments to frequency and portion sizes. I have thankfully not been afflicted with unexpected and nauseating aversions to anything in particular. When people ask me how I’m feeling I can honestly say that I feel great!
I am totally overjoyed to be pregnant. Even the occasional jolt from a baby kick to the bladder makes me smile. She is constantly on the move, wiggling into more comfortable positions in my belly. She’s especially active when we go to mass or whenever we pray our daily rosary, as if she already knows that those prayers are for her. Those tiny kicks and flutters are welcome reminders of the beautiful life beginning inside me. We’ve also found that she responds to the sound of daddy’s voice and my husband has already begun the practice of bedtime stories for the little one.
We are both over the moon to soon be able to meet this baby girl. I can’t wait to hold my daughter, to soothe her with lullabies and cowboy songs as my parents did for me, to rock her to sleep at night and love her in every way a mother possibly can. Even the dirty diapers and traumatic bath times seem a welcome gift as I think about what the next years of our lives will bring. I truly can’t wait for every messy and exhausting detail of motherhood. It certainly will not always be easy or pleasant but there isn’t the faintest doubt in my mind that this is the very best thing I will ever do.
During this beautiful, blooming month of May, we celebrate the Blessed Virgin Mary in all of her motherly glory. I’m excited to draw closer to her this month especially as I approach the blessing of motherhood myself.
During a fun bridal shower game a couple of years ago our friends and family were asked to write down some of their tips and tricks for a long and happy marriage. We enjoyed reading these and have taken the advice to heart. Here are some time tested methods for maintaining love, compassion and romance from the experts in my life.
Always stay best friends.
Take time for date night (at least monthly). No matter how busy life gets with work, kids, etc. always make time for the two of you.
Never go to sleep angry. Hugs and kisses and prayers at bedtime only.
Watch your wedding video often (or peruse the wedding photo album).
Hold hands when you walk.
Laugh together every day.
Sometimes there isn’t enough time for both of you in one day. Listen and support each other even if it means putting your own worries on hold.
Always go on adventures.
Always remember why you fell in love and always make positive comments to each other.
Happy spouse, happy house.
“It takes three to get married.” – Bishop Fulton Sheen. With God at the center and a little help from the Blessed Mother, you will be great.
Pray together and stay together.
Always be kind to each other.
Keep the lines of communication open at all times. Never assume anything. The one time you do will be the last.
Be best friends with Mary and St. Joseph.
Talk with each other. Tell one another you love each other.
I’ve mentioned this before but I believe that kindness to a spouse often goes undervalued in society today. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together or how well you might feel you know the person. Maintaining good manners and compassion for the people closest to you is a necessary endeavor in any relationship, especially between man and wife. Over the course of our two short years of marriage my husband and I have both made adjustments to how we communicate and are constantly working to maintain civil and compassionate communication with each other, even in those rare instances when we disagree.
However, even in our worst moments, I still am overwhelmed by this amazing gift of marriage that God has blessed me with. Not only am I married to a good man. I am sacramentally bonded to one I am deeply and totally in love with. In addition to trusting my husband completely, I also still regularly find myself a little weak at the knees when he walks in the door from work. My life has become infinitely better since he came into it.
The first traditional latin mass I ever attended was hosted on a first Friday in a small church which was 45 minutes away from my home parish through heavy traffic. Truth be told, I likely wouldn’t have attended had it not been for my husband. We were newly courting at the time and treated it as a date night. I had heard almost nothing about latin mass up to that point and was very curious to see how it compared to the more widely celebrated novos ordo mass. Since then I’ve struggled to write about the experience as I’ve often felt I lacked the proper vocabulary to describe it. However, on a recent visit from Colorado I think my dad said it perfectly. “It was the most beautiful mass I’ve ever been to.”
Everything about this mass pointed to Christ. The angelic choir and organ raised all chants, hymns and mass parts to the heavens while an army of altar boys attended the priest as he celebrated the sacrifice of the mass. His vestments were always gorgeously embroidered with gold and brightly colored threads depicting scenes of the Sacred Heart or the Blessed Mother and were complete with maniple and biretta. Nearly every woman in the little church was veiling, often trailed by husbands and a flock of small children, all dressed to the nines to participate in this holy mass.
My first few times attending latin mass I made no effort to follow along. I simply sat in stunned awe of it all, taking my cues for kneeling and prayer responses from my fellow lay people. Every knee in the church bent during the entrance procession as the cross bearer passed and heads bowed reverently toward the priest as he followed Christ to the altar. I later learned that this first Friday mass was a high mass. With the exception of the silent prayers at the altar said by the priest, the gospel reading and the homily, all mass parts were sung by the talented choir. Also apart from the gospel and homily, the priest’s back was always resolutely toward the assembly as he went about his holy work. Throughout the mass he lovingly kissed the altar and during the consecration he completely enshrouded it in incense. The air was a thick, sweet smelling haze as the assembly knelt. All in attendance also knelt at the communion rail to receive on the tongue (a first for me though it is now the only way I choose to receive).
Though this mass was breathtaking, it was obviously not a show put on for the benefit of the assembly. There were no theatrics or flashy guitar solos. All in attendance were there for one common purpose, to receive Christ. Each and every minute and reverently performed detail of the mass was indicative only of the goodness of Christ and His sacrifice for us. To this day I count the traditional latin mass as the most reverent, most beautiful, and most unifying mass I’ve ever attended. Even though it’s hardly convenient for us to get to every month, we dutifully and happily clear our schedules every first Friday evening.
In my opinion, one of the most common relationship mistakes being made today is the assumption that love, romance and marriage are an equal give and take. How neat and tidy and fair it is to assume that for every effort you make in your marriage there will be a perfectly equal reciprocation. Although I’m still quite new to married life, going on two years as man and wife, that simply hasn’t been my experience.
My husband and I are different people with varying schedules, moods and needs. Nevertheless, we don’t waste our days keeping score of who’s turn it is to be good to the other. If we did I would certainly come up short far more often. I’m so blessed to have married an incredibly kind, capable and self-sacrificing man who is constantly looking for ways to make my life more pleasant. Everything from planning a date night to replacing the toilet paper in the bathroom is fair game in his eyes. After a series of romantic disappointments and a couple of years living entirely on my own I was more than a little unaccustomed to these habits and have spent the first years of our marriage trying my best to imitate the wonderful man I married. I strive to never miss an opportunity to say “thank you” even when he does something as mundane as wash the dishes. Amid a far more taxing work schedule than mine, he’s still on the lookout for ways to be helpful when he comes home.
It’s so easy to get stuck in the pointless game of who’s got it worse when interacting with a spouse. The reality is that both parties should seek to give 110% always, even when that doesn’t amount to all that much. No matter what sort of day we’ve had, kindness toward a spouse is never a mistake. There may come days, months or even years when it feels like we’re pouring more of ourselves out than we get in return but that’s life. That’s marriage. Of course there will be battles and hard times for you and your spouse. You will both fall short time and again as we all do but no matter what happens, that person will be with you through it all.
Marriage is not about winning and losing. It’s not about repaying favors and debts. Marriage was designed by God as the most perfect and intimate connection between a man and a woman. We can simply look at our unique and complementary biology to prove this fact. We were literally made for each other and, as God intended it, marriage is about getting your spouse into heaven.
In a friendly conversation recently while discussing plans for family visits and other logistics surrounding the birth of our baby girl I mentioned that I’d have to chat about some of these thoughts with my husband. I was a bit taken aback by the response which came in the form of an emphatic “Why?!” In fairness to the other person, the conversation included the birth itself which certainly is and ought to be chiefly in accordance with the wishes of the mother. The act of birthing a child is a physically and spiritually all consuming effort which, in many ways, affords women a singular glimpse into the sacrificial love of Christ on the cross. When it comes to birth, the woman should have the final say.
Nevertheless, I still came away from the conversation feeling a bit indignant on behalf of the wonderful man I married. The shock and my perceived audacity to consult my husband and bring him into this decision making process took me by surprise. Even among devoutly Catholic circles there is still so much resistance to the submission of wives to their husbands. The fact is that most of my decisions are jointly made with the man I married, even down to our weekly dinner menu. I would not have subjected myself to lifelong holy matrimony to a man I did not respect or whose opinion I did not value.
When we talk about the birth of our baby I maintain ultimate veto power and he’s more than happy to defer to me on the subject but I still care what he thinks. He is the person who will be there with me, holding my hand through it all. I am so blessed to have found a man who will not be content to sit in the waiting room, but one who will clear his schedule to be present for every moment of our daughter’s life, even those painful and messy first ones. Of course I want to know his thoughts.
I firmly believe that childbirth is the ultimate feminine super power but even the holy family was not made up of mother and son alone. Just as Joseph was lovingly present for Mary at the nativity of Christ, so will my husband be for the birth of our little girl. I think it’s a terrible disservice we do to men to write them out of the birthing process altogether. It’s true that in some ways they can only be spectators, observing the spiritual bond between mother and child as their wives give themselves over entirely, mind, body and soul, to the good of the child. This is a time of utter vulnerability for mother and baby and I thank God that I will not be facing it alone.
I believe that a loving, present, supportive husband is critical to the process of carrying and birthing a child and well beyond that. This is also the process in which husbands become fathers. Though not quite so physically demanding as the job of the mother at this juncture, it is no less necessary. He is the rock which she will lean on throughout the process and the protector to which she will entrust their child. Nothing gives me greater confidence as I approach childbirth as my total trust in the man I married. No matter what happens he will be there, ready to defend my and our baby’s interests if necessary and prepared to do whatever is needed to assist the process.
I hope everyone had a blessed and happy weekend as we entered into the joyous season of Easter. We spent the weekend feasting and spending time with family per our usual traditions at this time of year. As we begin this time of celebration and good cheer in honor or the Resurrection of Christ, today’s post is all about Catholic love, joy and hospitality.
I’ve written on this subject before, most often in reference to the aggressively hospitable woman who raised me. Over the last few years my mom has nurtured a thriving network and culture of deep love and friendship in her home and parish. We joke sometimes that she is the Glenwood mom for all current or potential Catholics in the area looking to grow their faith and community. She’s the woman people seek out to set them up with that cute boy from mass or to give them a lift over the occasionally treacherous passes on their way to Denver. For those looking for a home cooked meal and a riveting theological heart-to-heart, my mom is the person to call. Through all this she has solidified for herself and my dad deep, true and lasting friendships. I aspire to be just like her. Recently, God gave me my chance.
Despite being incredibly shy, I love people and for years I have craved holy friendships like those that my mom has cultivated. However, my lack of social confidence has frequently been a barrier to achieving that goal and I once confessed this to one of our priest friends. To my surprise and delight he didn’t scoff at me and my poor social skills or brush off the comment as meaningless small talk. He simply offered to set my husband and I up with other young Catholic couples in the parish. It was an offer I could not refuse though it did require a little courage to take him up on it.
A week after our initial conversation I contacted him expressing a desire to connect with those young Catholics he’d mentioned. Three short hours later I received a text from a young woman from the parish asking us to dinner with her family at their home. She sent a picture of her and her husband with their two adorable kids as a little introduction. I was a bit taken aback at how seriously and quickly the father had gone about his work of finding us Catholic friends and I felt a little awkward about the situation as these new Catholic friends had come into our lives somewhat inorganically. However, I didn’t dare turn down the dinner invitation.
On the day we were to meet my husband and I hopped in the car and headed down the road. We both chuckled to learn that the little family lived less than ten minutes from us. We were first greeted by their two kids who opened the door and welcomed us inside, closely tailed by their mother. Throughout the evening we learned all about them, their faith journeys and even some shared Colorado experience as they’d spent some time there before moving back to the midwest.
We were also happy to discover that they were also expecting a baby. After dinner had been cleared away their son recruited my husband to build a toy car race track in his room and all the boys headed that direction. This gave us gals a chance to chat about all things pregnancy related and she even gifted me Made for This; The Catholic Mom’s Guide to Birth by Mary Haseltine, a book which I’m still in the process of reading and thoroughly enjoying. Eventually their little girl got bored of watching her brother play with his cars and climbed up next to me on the sofa with a book of her own in hand. Needless to say, we ended up staying and visiting much later than we’d intended and excitedly chatted about promising new friendship in the car on the way home.
They’ve since introduced us to a newly engaged couple from the parish as well and we all had a great time chatting about weddings, babies and of course, all things Catholic over a card game one evening. I firmly believe that God answers all prayers in His own way and His own time and rarely does this occur as we’d expect. However, I’ve also been blessed with a wonderful epiphany after meeting this welcoming Catholic family. Sometimes, all we have to do is ask.
Blessed in the Midwest 