I am currently discovering, as every new mother has, the necessity of no expectations. I keep no daily to do lists or agendas. There’s no set time in which I will accomplish any particular task. Unlike the five second tick tock snippets of seemingly put-together stay at home moms touting pleasant and strictly regulated routines of balanced breakfasts, full workouts and easy nap times, my life is not so structured.
Of course there are events throughout the day which reliably occur, breakfast and story time while baby girl babbles on her playmat for instance. However, the time and duration of these occurrences is always a gamble. There simply is no knowing when I might get a spare moment to tidy the house or send an email or run an errand and thus, there is no to do list, just a few things I might get done if time allows.
This is a reality I’m still coming to terms with as I am traditionally a planner. I like making lists and scratching off a few items everyday. Checking nothing off can feel like a step backward. However, since the birth of our daughter, I’ve learned to swallow that disappointment. Wasting time beating myself up over all the things I failed to do is of no use to anyone, especially with an exhausted hubby always slightly sleep deprived from night shifts at work.
Difficult though it may be at times, I am often called to drop all expectations for the day in order to be a warm and helpful support to him and our needy infant. This is one of those small crosses of stay at home motherhood which I am learning to embrace. After a long night at work for my husband or a sleepless afternoon with a gassy baby, it’s down to me to be the sunshine in our home. Of course I have bad days but this is the role I strive to fill for my family.
One thing that has become abundantly clear to me during my short three years as a practicing Catholic is that God’s plan is infinitely better than ours. Every time something miraculous happens in my life which utterly upsets the status quo and shatters my expectations I am freshly reminded of God’s goodness. It happened when I moved to Indiana, it happened when I met my husband and it happened when we welcomed our daughter into the world. None of these events played out quite like I would have imagined. They were even better and I am forever changed because of them.
The most recent pivotal event, the birth of our baby girl, ushered in an entirely new way of life which called for no small amount of deliberation with my husband as well as a renewed trust in God. After months of consideration and a thorough look at our finances I became a stay at home mom. For the first time in my life, my daily routine is not centered around a career. The engineering job which I’ve spent the majority of my life pursuing is currently in the rearview mirror. Perhaps one day when our kids are grown I may return to it but for now I am simply a mother.
This decision was met with overwhelming congratulations and support from friends and family, though some of them naturally voiced a number of questions which had been on replay in my own mind for the past year. Are you ready to live on only one income? Won’t you miss your job? Will you get bored? What are you going to do with your time? These are all perfectly valid concerns and were taken into consideration as this was not a choice made lightly.
Given the high costs of daycare and other childcare arrangements, a second income would not have ultimately benefited our overall finances by a significant margin. My husband is picking up a few extra overtime jobs while I am our primary childcare but these are sacrifices we are both happy to make. Perhaps someday I may come to miss the comradery of the office and mill life. However, though I made many friends at work I haven’t yet had a chance to miss the work itself. I love being home with my daughter. How could I possibly pass up seeing her sweet little face, even on the bad days, to sit at a desk in front of a computer for 40 hours a week? Motherhood will undoubtedly have its dull seasons and sleepless nights but I can’t imagine doing anything else. I believe that the time and energy I spent earning my engineering degree and scoring a job in the steel industry was still pointing me to exactly where I am today. All that work was done in the name of setting myself up to one day be able to raise a family.
My husband and I are continuing our commitments to our various church ministries while baby girl and I are on a constant mission to get out of the house. She’s a nature girl, after my own heart, and loves making new friends. In those spare moments when we’re not walking the neighborhood, hiking the local trails, having a playdate or attending weekday mass she occasionally lets me set her down long enough to do a little cooking and home upkeep. So far there hasn’t been a day wasted and I’m always learning more efficient methods for getting things done around the house while juggling the little one. Of course, I am now more dependent on my husband than ever before and it’s always possible that tragedy may strike tomorrow. Our situation may change in the blink of an eye. I may be called to return to office life unexpectedly but I choose not to live in fear of what might happen tomorrow. We are simply called to bear the crosses of today. Relying on my husband while I watch our daughter learn and grow every day is a cross I am overjoyed to take up daily. God is so good.
Apologies to all for the lapse in post last week. Between being a first time mom and figuring out my employment situation the last few weeks have seemed to run together without time for much else. As such, today’s post is short and sweet.
These days there’s so much talk about main character energy. Given how few people seem to take a genuine interest in reading I find this a bit ironic but it does beg an interesting question. Should you be the main character of your own life? Before my conversion to the faith I would have answered of course. Who else could your life possibly be about? However, as with many things since I first entered the Catholic Church, my current response is entirely different.
I no longer strive to exude main character energy because my life became infinitely better when it stopped being about me. I found Christ, I got married and, most recently, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Certainly I still hold tremendous agency over my words and actions but my world no longer revolves around me and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I choose to place three other people at the center of it. In a hundred years if anyone is still telling my story I pray that through my efforts to be a good wife and a good mother, it’s a story which points others to the love and truth of Christ.
I’ve told my husband that before I met him I felt like I was just keeping myself busy and somewhat productive. I always felt called to be a wife and mother and though I worked toward those ends while still shaping myself into a productive member of society, I often struggled with a sense of aimlessness. I was entertaining myself until God brought love into my life. Now, I know beyond any doubt that the work that I do within my family is a fulfillment of God’s plan for me and there is no better feeling.
The world needs more moms. Even before my conversion to the faith I was acutely aware of the multitude of ways, big and small, that my mom was lovingly shaping my life for the better. For many years now I’ve aspired to be just like her. Here are some of the life changing mommisms that guided me to the beautiful life I have today.
Pajamas are for sleeping – These were words instilled in my sister and I since before we were old enough to dress ourselves. There’s an appropriate dress code for every occasion and, unless it was pajama day at school, we were always properly attired when stepping out our front door. During college and amid long nights of intense study my sister even went so far as to sleep in her outfit for the next day to ensure she was dressed for class. Too often people underestimate the power of looking the part when heading out into the world to do something productive.
Never show up to a party empty handed – Good manners are so frequently under valued in our modern world but when trying to make friends it’s polite to bring something to share. A six pack of beer or some tasty baked goods are my usual go to’s. Even going to family dinners I always ask what I can bring. It’s a gesture of gratitude to your host who has gone to all the trouble of opening their home to you.
If you say no they’ll stop inviting you – These words maintained permanent residence in my brain during my first two years in Indiana. I was new to the area, had no family nearby, was incredibly shy and in desperate need of friends. Saying yes to social gatherings with people I knew little or not at all was, and often still is, distinctly uncomfortable. However, thanks to my mom, my fear of not receiving an invitation ultimately overcame my social anxiety.
Do it right now – Though I’ve been tempted to roll my eyes once or twice upon hearing this, there’s no denying that it’s often been just the push I needed. One notable instance was when my mom was encouraging me to start house shopping during the height of covid lockdowns. An argument could be made that this mommy advice got me my first house. Over the years it’s also come with some parental tough love at times when I needed a firm nudge in the right direction.
I’ll pray for you – This particular mommism doesn’t come in the form of advice and so it sometimes gets forgotten on my list of mommy quotes. However, in recent years I’ve come to realize it’s one of the best things she’s ever said to me. This is a promise which I know will be kept. With four little words my mom expresses the ultimate motherly love, entrusting her child to God. Although our prayers are often answered in the most unexpected ways, no prayer is left unanswered and so there is no greater comfort than to know that God hears all my mom’s prayers.
God is infinitely good. One of the many blessings He grants us is the opportunity to relearn all those little lessons we have a tendency to forget. He never stops loving us and gives us every chance to do better. This summer He gifted me such an opportunity. Some readers may remember my bad day many months ago in A Lesson in Humility. However, I was granted yet another vanity check recently regarding our daughter’s baptism.
Last year my husband and I had the pleasure and honor of attending our niece’s baptism in Colorado as her godparents. It was a beautiful ceremony hosted at St. John Vianney Theological Seminary which I describe in detail in Baptized on Holy Ground. This was a full baptism mass which was celebrated by a priest who is a long time family friend and the man who ushered my sister and brother-in-law through RCIA. In short, it was an incredibly beautiful and reverent celebration of this brand new baby girl as she entered into a new life in Christ. Even then, before there were any children of our own to speak of, I knew that this was how I wanted to welcome them into the Church.
One year later, this was the goal as we planned another baptism mass for our own daughter. However, due to a slight mixup, the presiding priest only had faculties to do the baptism and was unable to celebrate a full mass for the occasion. Upon learning this I was crushed. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this condensed ceremony would have the appearance of a drive-by baptism, as if we were just checking a box for our daughter. Receiving any sacrament should be a grand and joyous affair, especially the first, and arguably most significant one.
My husband and my dad both reminded me it’s the sacrament that ultimately counts. The church, the guests, mass or no mass are all secondary details so long as the sacrament is valid. At the end of the day our baby would be baptized and that’s what matters. Of course, this is all true but did little to comfort me until I spoke with my mom who had originally been similarly disgruntled about the change of plans. “What a beautiful gift it is,” she said, to bring this little girl into the Church through a simple, humble ceremony. We get to remember Christ’s humble beginnings as we welcome this sweet baby.
It wasn’t quite so grand as I had originally intended but it was no less joyous. Many of our friends and family joined us for the private baptism, including four priests. There was no shortage of love for this baby girl and the gift of baptism was no less profound. As is frequently the case, my mom was right. It was beautiful and this Catholic momma learned a little humility.
Many Catholics are familiar with Saint Anthony, the patron Saint of lost things. He is credited with abundant miracles and is often the one we invoke when we’ve misplaced our keys. This month we celebrated his feast day to thank him for his assistance. Although I hold Saint Anthony in the highest regard along with all those in heaven, I would’ve forgotten his feast this year had it not been for his holy intercession and a little help from my mom.
On June 13th my parents happened to be visiting to help us welcome our daughter into the Church through baptism earlier that week. My mom and I popped out with baby for a bit of antiquing around town. Little did I know that Saint Anthony had his eye on us. Just as we were leaving the last shop before heading for home my mom spied a thin blue rosary hanging by the door. I’m working on my holy card and rosary collections (you can never have too many) and couldn’t resist looping back for a second look. The tag on the simple strand of beads said $12. No doubt the shop owners had yet to meet the Blessed Mother and fully understand the miraculous power of this holy devotion. For 12 measly dollars I couldn’t pass up this sacramental. After purchasing the little rosary we once again made our way to the door and I examined the inscription on the back of the medal. “Saint Anthony” I exclaimed to my mom, holding it aloft for her to see.
“You know it’s his feast day.” She smiled back at me and the two ladies behind the counter. They nodded in a polite though somewhat uninterested fashion. However, I felt as though I’d stumbled onto a rare treasure. I’d of course heard of Saint Anthony and even prayed to him a number of times upon misplacing various household items but today I had the pleasure of finding him. No doubt this was due to his finding me first. Through the rosary, a most beautiful devotion to the Holy Mother, the Saint of lost things found this brand new mother, guiding her yet deeper into her faith.
These words are so often the most difficult to say, yet always the most necessary. When approaching any cataclysmic shift in life; the birth of a child, marriage to your dearly beloved, the start of a new job, a move across the country to a new city, we have a vision for how we want these things to go. Obviously, we pray that they will proceed without complication and will lead us to further fulfillment of God’s plan for our lives. However, in all the commotion, when faith and trust in God are most critical, we are prone to forget both altogether. We content ourselves to power through by our own grit and determination, throwing ourselves into any labor that might bring about that shining vision we had when we started. There’s always one more thing on the to do list to occupy our time which seems far more pressing than falling on our knees before the blessed Sacrament. Carving out time for this is never a mistake and I suspect there are few people who would regret it. I was personally reminded of this during the days leading up to my daughter’s birth.
“Lord, give me strength. I trust you. Let your will be done.” These were the words playing on repeat in my mind prior to and during childbirth. I’d spent the previous nine months agonizing over potential complications and interventions, praying everyday for a safe, smooth and natural labor and delivery. However, when the time came, all that worry fell away. My baby girl did what all girls do. She took her sweet time getting ready. She took so long in fact that my labor ultimately had to be medically induced due to concerns regarding a skinny, single artery umbilical cord. This was not the totally natural, intervention free experience I had prayed for but even in this, God was present.
I don’t believe my scheduled induction was the refusal of a prayer but rather an answer to one. It required me to relinquish that glimmering vision of mine and instead place myself completely in His hands. Had things gone precisely according to my plan, I would not have been able to do this. After the better part of a year of fretting, I was blessed with the chance to simply let go and lean into His will and mercy. Once it at last became clear that I would almost certainly be induced all my fears evaporated. I had done everything I could do. Our daughter’s birth was now entirely in His hands. On the eve of my scheduled induction I told my husband that I didn’t know how to be nervous as I had no concept of exactly what it would feel like. The next morning I still couldn’t dredge up enough fear to be nervous; not during the drive to the hospital, not as I changed into the hospital gown, not even that afternoon when the midwife came in to break my water.
In that room as contractions mounted I could muster only one prayer for strength and that His will be done. I’m thrilled to say that He did indeed answer this prayer 100 times over. Although I was medically induced I was able to successfully deliver our baby girl without an epidural after a relatively brief labor, roughly nine hours in total. We’ve all heard stories of childbirth, the excruciating pain and gore of bringing a new life into the world. In many ways it was the most difficult thing I have ever done. However, at no point did it seem to me an impossible undertaking. I credit this entirely to His grace. Though it was a task that I alone could perform, I was never alone in the pain. God blessed me with a husband who was at my elbow the entire time ready to help in any way, even if it meant enduring a headlock from his laboring wife for three hours. God also blessed me with full confidence in the knowledge that He made me for just this purpose, to birth this beautiful little girl and raise her to know Him. He was there with me, assuring me all the while that this was exactly what I was meant to do.
This is not a parenting blog but in light of recent events I’m struggling to think of anything else. Of the many lessons I’ve learned over the last weeks as a first time parent chief among them is how to operate one handed. To many this may seem like a tremendous handicap, always having one hand occupied with the rocking and soothing of a delightful though frequently fussy newborn. However, I see it as a superpower.
It’s true that many things have temporarily gone by the wayside; things like cooking, cleaning and even blogging on the regular. My new superpower has granted me a hyper focus on my current number one job, caring for my baby. All else is a trivial second. Thankfully this single mindedness is made possible by a rockstar husband who has made it his mission to take care of everything else. All the while I have the supreme joy of staring into my daughter’s sweet little face at all hours of the day, no matter what that face is doing. Even when she cries I can’t help being overwhelmed with love for this little girl every time I look at her. I’ve also discovered just how much one can accomplish with one hand. Full disclosure, it’s not much but a little task here and there like emptying the dishwasher or flipping the laundry feels like a huge win. At the very least, it’s one less thing on the hubby’s docket.
I’m praying for the day when our daughter is big enough for her baby carrier, thus restoring mommy to two handed status. For now though, I’m savoring the blessings of only having one.
Yesterday Catholics everywhere celebrated yet another holy day on the liturgical calendar, the Feast of the Ascension. After suffering death on the cross and rising again on the third day Christ returned to His disciples for a time and continued His teaching. Yesterday marked the end of that teaching when he ascended into heaven.
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.
Blessed in the Midwest 