I am the handmaid of the Lord

Seeing as it's two days after Christmas, I'm a little behind in my Advent post...

During this Advent season, it was natural for me to think about "waiting" in the context of pregnancy.  The typical challenges and privileges of the Advent season were that much more apparent for me this year.  Advent is a time of waiting in hopeful anticipation, of being watchful, humble, trusting, vulnerable, open, mindful and patient.  Of being aware of our need for God, and finding a way to be okay with that need even during the times we would prefer to be in control ourselves.

This really describes the entire experience of pregnancy.  It is one of the best practices in being patient and trusting, and certainly requires you to be vulnerable and humble in mind, body and spirit.  There is little room for vanity or control.  As Fr Thom described it during one of his Advent sermons, God is the potter and we are the clay.  As the potter, God is in control and molds us and our children at each stage of life.

However, we as the clay also reveal ourselves to the potter.  I like this distinction because it emphasizes our individuality and the unique relationship each of us has or can have with God.  He is not just molding each of us to be like the next.  He calls us to discover the truth about who we are and bear that truth to Him in our own ways.  To live in fullness, make use of our time, and shine the light of who we are, the way God shines His light upon us.  We are each created in goodness and strength but there are a million different ways to express those gifts.

I can't wait to see how our daughter will eventually express her gifts.

Although Advent is a time of waiting for something that is to come, I think it's also a time of living in the moment and trusting in it.  This is the sacred moment.  Sometimes in moments of beautiful clarity, when I'm feeling safest and most secure, I end up feeling sad or anxious.  I worry as I think about how the beauty and safety I'm experiencing are sure to be fleeting, as all moments are.  But it recently occurred to me that although this moment is fleeting, my gratitude can be eternal.  When gratitude is ceaseless and unchanging, so is faith.

**

Songs for a New World, Christmas Lullaby:

I'll never have the power to control the land
Or conquer half the world, or claim the sun
I'll never be the kind who simply waves her hand
And has a million people do the things I wish I'd done
But in the eyes of Heaven, my place is assured
I carry with me Heaven's grand design
Gloria, Glory I will sing the name of the Lord
And He will make me shine

And I will be like Mother Mary, with a blessing in my soul
And I will give the world my eyes so they can see
And I will be like Mother Mary, with a blessing in my soul
And the future of the world inside of me
And I will be like Mother Mary, with the power in my veins
To believe in all the things I've yet to be
And I will be like Mother Mary, and I'll suffer any pains
For the future of the world
For the future of the world
Inside of me

Child of Our Dreams

Holy Child of poverty, so lowly is Your birth
Sharing our humanity, embracing all the Earth
Every nation, every race, every person wears your face
Come anew, oh Child of our dreams

Joyful Child of mystery, come warm our winter night
Fire our dull complacency and fill us with Your light
Speak the word that makes us whole, lead each lost and hungry soul
Come anew, oh Child of our dreams

Sacred Child of ecstacy, creation sings Your love
Light gives back Your radiancy and fills the skies above
Gentle glow from candle light, splendor of the stars of night
Come anew, oh Child of our dreams

Child of all eternity, our justice and our peace
Born into our history, that hatreds all may cease
Bring us all to life from death
Be our hope, our joy, our breath
Come anew, oh Child of our dreams

~Marty Haugen

Partnership

My cup of blessing overflows when I think about my husband, Galo.

I won't pretend that either of us embody perfection in our marriage, as that is simply impossible.  I won't even say that we're "perfect for each other," because there are times when--for whatever reason-- we aren't able to meet each other's expectations.  I will say, however, that we are right for each other and are a blessing to each other.

During the more difficult days of my pregnancy so far, Galo has provided for me (and our baby) in the simplest and most loving ways.  He cooks, cleans, and shops without complaint when all I can seem to do is sleep, despite the fact that he also has to keep on top of a very demanding and time-consuming job.  He encourages me to make self-care a priority.  He asks me what he can do to help if he honestly doesn't know what I need.  He cracks jokes when I need to smile.  He's honest with me about how he's feeling, which can be quite helpful and demystifying and allows us to share the emotional responsibility that parents-to-be carry.  He is always quick with a genuine compliment and words of admiration, and makes me feel beautiful when I would otherwise be horrified about what's happening to my appearance.  I look forward to seeing him at the end of each day and feel comforted waking up next to him each morning.

Okay, so now I am making him sound perfect!  The truth is, it has taken the five months of our pregnancy to find our balance; it has been and continues to be a process, and one that is brand new for both of us.  Galo initially struggled to manage his anxiety about the pregnancy and the future in general, and didn't always know how to access or communicate the kind of faith and hopeful anticipation he radiates now.  I'm learning that an important part of being married to someone is being patient when they need time to adjust to new situations.  How one's spouse first reacts to a life event or even just a bad day is not necessarily how they will react after having had time to process and reflect.  As humans, we all need time to come to terms with new life circumstances.  Things that affect us psychologically and spiritually will never be resolved overnight.  It's a privilege to have the opportunity to be patient with your spouse, to get to bear witness to their journey and impact it in quiet and loving ways, all the while knowing that God is the One true witness to their journey.  He is the One perfect party in a marriage.

Traveling home from our Thanksgiving celebrations, I decided to share with Galo the anxiety I was feeling now that all of our friends and family know that we're having a girl and even call her by name.  It is exhilarating and terrifying all at once.  She has existed this whole time, but more than ever before she feels like a real presence, someone right here with us in the room. (Someone doing somersaults inside me!  Talk about feeling like a real presence!) I am thrilled to have her and feel her here with us, but the idea of losing her or something bad happening to her is only becoming more and more unbearable. I worried that if I shared this with Galo he would get upset as he has in the past; he has implored me to think positively.  So I prefaced it by assuring him that this fear is not persistent or all-consuming, that most of the time I’m able to access optimism and faith and pure excitement.  But all the same, naming our child and hearing loved ones call her by name has presented somewhat of an unexpected challenge—of course, one that I’m happy to be facing.  

Choosing to share my feelings despite being unsure of how Galo would react was a leap of faith and an act of bravery in itself, one that was met with a calm and empathetic response.  He shared that he has had similar feelings since discovering the gender of our baby and giving her a name.  The conversation that followed wasn’t lengthy or overly emotional, just honest.  Just two spouses and parents-to-be offering empathy to each other.  The fact that I can even write about it without it conjuring up anxiety is a blessing, and perhaps God’s way of showing me that trusting in my partnership with my husband will unlock more and more experiences of gratitude as time goes on.

Thanksgiving Day

It's been a little while since I've posted, but what better day to return to my Gratitude Diaries than Thanksgiving Day?! I'm trying to fully grasp that this is our last holiday season as a family of two, although, in a way, I already feel like we're a family of three.  It's hard NOT to already feel like a mother when I have this life growing inside of me, a life I can actually feel moving around now!  At our ultrasound this month, we were overjoyed to discover that we're having a little girl.  I completely understand the reasoning behind wanting to wait until the baby's birthday to find out the gender, but there's something so magical and joyful in being able to refer to our little one as "she" and "her" now.  And in this case, it feels like we have been waiting to welcome our "Nina" into our family for years now.  Nina is a name we chose about five years ago!  While we would be equally blessed to be awaiting a son, I think we somehow always knew our first child would be our Nina.  We recently chose the middle name "Arabella," which means "answered prayer" or "yielding to prayer."

As for Nina: Nina is as multi-ethnic as you can get; she is a young girl in Spain, a common nickname in Russia, a Babylonian goddess of the oceans, and an Incan goddess of fire. Nina means "grace, beautiful eyes, mother, powerful, strong, mighty, fire, friend, flower, 'God was gracious' or 'God has shown favor.'" It is a Christian name derived from the original Georgian form Nino, dating back to Saint Nino and imported to Western Europe from Russia and Italy in the 19th century. This name also coincides with the Spanish word niña meaning "little girl."

With each passing week, it somehow becomes simultaneously easier to have faith in a beautiful future and more difficult, if that makes any sense at all.  With each amazingly happy development and each new little piece of wonderful news about this pregnancy, the stakes are raised that much higher.  I wish I didn't have to think about it in that way.  And much of the time, I'm able to just be grateful and excited. But there are still those moments of fear, sometimes even panic.  I know that gratitude is all about being grateful for the moment, this moment right here, right now.  I know that the best practice is to keep a gentle grasp on all circumstances, good or bad. But I think it's only human to be afraid of happiness slipping away, of an uncertain future.  I don't take my blessings for granted, but I realize there's a fine line between not taking them for granted and not believing in the "legitimacy" of those blessings. The former embodies a humble and thankful spirit; the latter embodies doubt in God's plan.  On this Thanksgiving Day, I resolve to be in the moment, to observe the blessings I'm enjoying today, regardless of what tomorrow may hold.  I have a husband who takes care of me when I'm sick, makes me laugh when I'm sad, has faith when I'm unsure, and admires me so much that he cannot stop compulsively telling me what a good mother I'll be.  I have parents who support me, friends who enrich my life and give it meaning, gifts I use on a daily basis and gifts I have yet to discover. And I have Nina Arabella, 21 weeks along--I've read she can hear quite a bit, so I hope she hears all the songs I sing and the kind words people are already saying about her.

Another thing I'm thankful for this year is that Galo and I are reaching common ground in regards to simplifying our life and minimizing our material possessions.  We are working on going through our apartment, wardrobes, etc and donating those things we do not need and could be better used by others. For every new item we purchase, we strive to donate something else.  I'm enjoying preparing our home for our child so we can all live a calm and clutter-free life.  The less clutter we have, the freer we feel.  The less we feel compelled to own, the greater appreciation we have for the priceless pieces of our lives.  Each holiday season I experience anxiety and dread when I think about shopping lists.  It just doesn't seem like it should have to be that way.  Every time I see a Black Friday commercial or advertisement email I get angry and a little sick to my stomach.  With all the problems in our country and the world, it just seems like we could all stand to realize that materialism is a temporary distraction, nothing more.  We will never find the happiness and peace we hunger for through Black Friday purchases, expensive Christmas presents, or stressful shopping lists.  All the time spent planning and purchasing throughout the holidays could be better spent together, finding common ground, reflecting, and helping each other access hope for the new year to come.  Oh, and singing Christmas carols, of course.

Holding on Lightly

I have heard of people saying their kids are "on loan" to them from God.  I find comfort in thinking about it that way.  First of all, it's a reminder that my child is God's and He will take care of him/her with me and my husband.  It is also a reminder to hold onto all things lightly, because everything really belongs to God. Our gifts, our relationships, our loves.  During a recent Sunday evening homily, our priest posed the question, "Is there anything God could ask us to give to Him that we would refuse to give?"

Of course, there are things we would want to refuse to give, and I think that only makes us human. But it's good to reflect on the people, experiences, talents and possessions we think belong to us in our life.  My husband and I celebrated one year of marriage yesterday (so much gratitude!) and we have been a couple for over six years in total.  After such a length of time, it's easy to start viewing each other as a presence we're entitled to, a source of stability that belongs to us. And I suppose for someone with anxiety--someone like me-- it would seem very scary to admit that love and stability doesn't in fact "belong" to us.  But actually, to me, the idea that everything belongs to God is a comforting and reassuring one because He is the One who truly knows how to take care of everything.  He is the Shepherd of our relationships, our marriages, and our families, and He will not lead us astray. I don't think "holding on lightly" to the people and relationships we cherish means we don't fight for them or show our fierce devotion to them.  God wants us to be devoted to our relationships, above all our relationships with our life partners and our children.  He challenges us to love like He does, unconditionally and unselfishly.  But part of that kind of selfless love means maintaining a gentle hold and being open to God's path for that person.

For example, I am trying to hold on lightly to my friendship with one of my very dearest friends, Megan, who is moving to Minnesota next week.  Since this move is a very positive life step for her, it makes it much easier for me to focus on the gratitude I have for our friendship instead of the sadness that she won't be living within walking-distance from me anymore. She has bravely faced a number of difficult life situations in the time I've known her, and now it is time to celebrate positive change.  I am someone who often experiences others' struggles almost as my own, and have a heightened awareness and sensitivity to their suffering.  But it has occurred to me that sharing in people's hopes and joys in addition to their pain not only helps refresh me when I have compassion fatigue, it establishes a balance and serves as a reminder that life is made up of a lot of good in addition to suffering. Being happy for people in their good times is just as important as being compassionate to them in their times of despair. That is also motivation for me to share my hopes, joys, and dreams with those around me so others can share in those positive things in addition to being there for me in difficult times. Sometimes I hold back and don't share moments of happiness in an attempt to be sensitive to those who aren't happy. But in the right circumstances, happiness and a hopeful outlook can be contagious.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do."

~Marianne Williamson​

Happiness Forever

GRATITUDE is certainly what I have this weekend!!! After a rough week of trying my best to function and go to work despite lingering back pain, embarrassment as I hobbled around in front of coworkers and patients, and exhaustion from the whole ordeal (and not sleeping well at night), I am finally truly on the mend.  I am beyond grateful and savoring the joy of being able to do the simple things I want to do.  Aside from being thankful that I'm no longer in a lot of pain, I'm also thankful to have had the experience (believe it or not!) because now I am being vigilant about my needs, taking things in stride, and feel my overall perspective is improved.  Instead of being stressed out about the state of the house and the tasks I'm behind on, I am just doing what I can and letting go of the rest.  Everything will get done eventually.  There is literally no point in pushing myself or being angry with myself if I'm not exactly "on track"... I don't even really know what "on track" means these days.  Prior to being pregnant and in the early months of pregnancy, I imposed a lot of expectations and timelines on myself and my future.  Some expectations (goals, plans) in life are good, but only if they are created and pursued with hopeful anticipation instead of fear, resentment, or dread.

The outcome is out of our control anyway.  As one quote I saw on Pinterest puts it, "Write your plans in pencil-- give God the pen."  I don't know what the future looks like or what will be best for me and my family with each passing week, month, or year.  What I do know is that I am most happy and at peace when I'm embracing my truest self, utilizing my gifts, treating myself and others with kindness, and fully experiencing gratitude in God's presence. Some concrete examples: Singing. Writing. Tending to friendships. Spending time with loved ones. Dancing. Picking out greeting cards and composing my personal messages in them. Cultivating my own individual style. Awaiting moments of faith and clarity (at times sparse but always inevitable). Accessing insight and finding ways to be kinder and more respectful of myself as I learn new things about what makes me 'me.'  Appreciating each changing season (while being partial to fall).  These are the things I can count on to make me happy.  My "old faithfuls" have remained exactly the same since I was a little girl and are the things that encourage me to remain faithful.

During the ordeal with my back, it was also positive for me to witness my dad and brother managing on their own.  My mom happened to be traveling in Europe with her sisters during the week I was incapacitated, leaving my dad and brother to their own devices and without access to convenient transportation (neither of them can drive due to visual impairment).  My father also experiences his own back pain, in addition to knee, neck, eye, and hand pain, which is chronic. Having only experienced a tiny fraction of his pain, I have a whole new level of empathy for his suffering and daily challenges. What's more, I have a new respect for his attitude toward life, which, truth be told, has improved over the years.  Understandably, it has taken time for him to adopt and nurture an accepting outlook, one which allows him to experience some measure of lightheartedness and peace in the face of difficulty and stress.  This week has also reminded me that when I'm not physically or mentally able to care for someone, God finds a different way to get that person's needs met.  That may seem like it should be obvious to a person of faith, but I think many of us are so invested in taking care of others, we forget that truth.

Yes-- I am pretty terrified of throwing my back out again, but all I can do is be careful, take things slowly and listen to my body.  I looked into prenatal yoga classes and it seems like they could be helpful in a number of ways, so as soon as I'm feeling up to it I will check one out.

This has been a lovely weekend bursting with abundant blessings: brunch with girlfriends, a much-needed new haircut, even more-needed maternity clothes shopping, time with family, errand accomplishment, lunch with my husband, cantoring Mass and getting to sing Center of My Life (which is one of my favorites), dinner with old friends.  It certainly makes up for my derailed plans last weekend!  A good lesson in patience and delaying despair...turning a corner may happen sooner than our pessimism allows us to believe.

Closet Catastrophe

Well, I have hit my first real pregnancy rough patch:  I threw out my back last week and have essentially been rendered incapacitated since then.  Having just entered my second trimester, last week I was eager to employ my bit of increased energy and motivation in beginning to clear out clutter in our home to make room for baby's arrival in the spring.  I was excited to purge our unnecessary items, seriously strip down my wardrobe (figuring it's time to let go of some clothing I've held onto since college and even high school...), and organize our closets. I had been meaning to begin this project for ages, but my first trimester completely zapped my energy and left me with motivation to do little else other than nap and watch TV shows on Netflix.

My back started to ache after having made a significant dent in our bedroom and front hall closets.  I was feeling accomplished and the most energized I'd felt in a long time.  I was a little worried that my back would get worse if I kept going, so I took a break.  That was the end of Operation Closet.  My "backache" quickly morphed from minimal tension to severe spasms which emerge if I dare to move in even the most benign of ways.  Several days later, the contents of our closets (including our artificial Christmas tree, winter coats, countless pairs of shoes, old Halloween costumes, holiday-themed stuffed bears, piles of clothes and old purses to be donated, wrapping paper and our gift bag collection) are strewn about our living room, dining room, and hallway, just begging to be organized.  A very frustrating state of affairs.  

Suddenly, breakouts and nausea seem like heaven as pregnancy inconveniences go.  More than ever, I understand what a responsibility it is to be pregnant.  I am in this much pain and cannot take any pain medicine.  I have my own needs but have to put the baby's needs first.  Apparently it is possible to feel resentment, anger and anxiety while simultaneously being willing to suffer though whatever obstacle presents itself for the sake of this miracle God and I are working on together.

If there is anything positive about the situation, it's that it has forced me to slow down, re-prioritize self-care, and realize what a blessing it is to be able to do the simplest things. I won't take standing, sitting, shifting position in bed and dressing myself for granted anytime soon.  Our bodies and spiritual selves have a way of teaching us what we need to learn.  On this Columbus Day, instead of picking pumpkins and sipping apple cider as I normally would, I'm stretched out on the couch with an ice pack strapped to my lower back, squinting through a headache and listening to my James Taylor station on Pandora.  My husband is working today so he dropped me off at my parents' house so I'd have some company.  Things could be worse.  At least the baby and I got to enjoy some warm apple pie and milk from their kitchen!

Thinking about Lovely Things

At church this past Sunday I think I discovered my favorite reading:

"Brothers and sisters: Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God.  Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

...whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.  Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me.  Then the God of peace will be with you."

~Philippians 4:6-9

This reading goes along perfectly with what I've been working on: giving myself permission to see the bright side and envision the best possible outcome of things.  Why shouldn't we think about all the true, lovely, gracious, praise-worthy things in our lives?  We should at the very least give as much thought to those things as to the things that make us anxious or upset.

I also like, "Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me."  It implies that we are more capable and spiritually skilled than we may like to give ourselves credit for: Keep on doing what you're doing; trust yourself; you're on the right track.  So often when we stumble, I think we assume we have to start over completely.  The idea of rebuilding ourselves and our sense of sacred safety is overwhelming and can even seem hopeless.  But no misstep, blunder or experience of despair can hit the reset button on what we have already learned and received in the name of God.  Our journey never goes backwards.  We keep continuing down the path.

I told my mother I think I'm making progress because when I'm anxious about something, I'm starting to think, 1. What are the chances ___ will actually happen, and 2. If something bad does happen, what are the chances I won't be able to handle it?  Slim.  I am well-equipped with faith, an unconditionally loving support system, personal intelligence and resilience, self-awareness, budding (and soon-to-be-flourishing) self-acceptance, creativity and an appreciation for meaningful challenges.

Anxiety has a way of demoralizing our gifts--the ones we've earned as well as those we have graciously been given.  But when I saw our little one last Monday stretching and wiggling on the ultrasound screen, I came to believe that some gifts are so precious that fear takes a backseat to love.

A Merciful Challenge

This past Sunday, our priest Fr Thom's homily was about mercy and forgiveness, and how God showers all of us with each.  What stood out to me most was his description of different types of mercy, one of which was "a loving challenge to help us grow."  I haven't often thought about mercy in that way before.  When we are presented with challenges in our lives, we don't often think about those challenges and difficulties as embodying "mercy." I was grateful to be prompted to think about mercy in this way, because pregnancy, childbirth, and raising children are nothing if not loving challenges that help us to grow.  Mercy isn't just about God giving us what we want or alleviating our pain; it can also be about entrusting us with new responsibilities. 

Framing my pregnancy as a challenge God wants me to experience instead of merely a lucky and possibly fleeting blessing that I may or may not deserve (in my own mind) helps to expand my view of what this time in my life is really about.  A lot of my guilt has been coming from thinking that I don't deserve to "get what I want," in this case, a baby.  But is this really about what I want, or about what about what a baby needs?  Don't I want a child specifically because I am thirsting for the privilege to impart wisdom, lessons about self-love and acceptance, spirituality, hope, and kindness to a brand new member of God's family?

During our wedding ceremony, my husband and I were asked, "Will you accept children willingly and lovingly from God?" to which we replied, "Yes."  Fr Thom's question was not, "Will you accept children but question whether God made the right choice?"

**
 

Galo:  he made the right choice to choose you

me:  us  

Galo:  yeah us

Galo:  I love you. You are going to be a great mom

me: 

me:  you are going to be a great dad

True Gratitude

The priest who married my husband and I last November says adopting gratitude is the best first step in accepting God's path-of-life invitation.  Now that we're expecting our first child in April, after being unsure how difficult it would be to conceive due to my diagnosis of polycystic ovarian syndrome (it only took approximately two months), gratitude seems like it should be an easy practice.  And of course, I am in fact very grateful for the way my body has been allowed to serve as a vessel for our baby for the past twelve weeks.

However, I've found that it has also been easy to doubt a positive future, feel unworthy of my blessings, and experience guilt knowing that other families struggle and suffer in ways mine hasn't had to thus far.  For me, there has been some amount of preemptive grieving in these early months of pregnancy.  Whether that premature grief is meant to "prepare" me for a painful outcome or serve to empathize with those who are actually grieving is unclear to me.  A part of me wonders if I believe I have to earn the right to be happy by suffering first.

Everyone has their own crosses to bear in life.  I've begun to realize that I spend a lot of time punishing myself for not having to bear certain crosses while other people struggle under their weight.  I think that by expecting the worst outcome, I am aligning myself with those who are suffering.  If I expect the best outcome, I am disrespecting them.  I am being naive, acting superior, and behaving as if I'm entitled to the happiness that has eluded others.

But I think I've been missing the mark all this time.  True gratitude means you're allowed to be joyful simply because you're alive, simply because God is present.  You don't have to earn the right to be happy-- and believing that doesn't mean you're entitled or naive.  Having faith in any given moment simply means you're embracing the moment instead of shrinking from it.  True gratitude is about what exists right now, not about trying to guess what will exist in the future.

So, for right now, I am happy for the fatigue and nausea, for the aches, acne, and irritability and all the hope they hold.  I am excited to announce the news to my in-laws this weekend.  I am grateful for the way our baby has already brought my husband and I even closer together, and for the happiness the news has brought to my parents, brother, and close friends.  I am grateful for this responsibility, and I will try to embrace each precious prenatal moment!