On the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows

Yesterday was the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows and the parish where our little Frances was buried offered their annual Our Lady of Sorrows Mass for families who have lost children.   We made the hour long trek out to Holy Trinity even though I was pretty sure mass without Chris would be a disaster since Margaret hasn't made it through mass without needing to be escorted outside for months.  It was well worth it though, even if I did end up in the cry room with my screaming toddler and then the apple picking I dangled as a reward for attending mass after an hour long car ride plus another thirty minutes to the orchard lasted all of fifteen minutes before the bags were full and the children done. Kara, the woman behind a m.o.m.s peace, who literally buried many of those lost babies herself, was at the memorial mass and, as usual, was working tirelessly to bring comfort and peace to all the grieving families there.

When we lost Frances we didn't realize what an ordeal it would be to have her buried with some modicum of dignity.  When we lost our first daughter in Pennsylvania, our parish referred us to the funeral home owned by another parishioner and he just handled everything at no cost to us.  He said he always took care of babies for free.  He was even willing to fly her back to North Carolina where we wanted her to be buried at no cost to us.  We ended up having Chris' parents drive her down, but it was such a blessing to not have to worry about the logistics of anything on top of our grief.  I just assumed that that was how it was everywhere.   I was wrong.

Here in Virginia we were looking at either the cost of a full funeral which would have been several thousand dollars or letting the hospital "dispose" of our daughter's remains themselves.  Neither was an acceptable option.  We just needed a place to bury our baby and someone to help us figure out what to do to make that happen.  That's where Kara came to the rescue.  Kara knew the law, gave us moral support, offered prayers, and arranged the burial with Father Woude from Holy Trinity presiding and even provided baby blankets and a much more appropriate tiny casket than the tupperware container holding our daughter's remains that we left the hospital with.

Well, I didn't set out to write a pitch for this wonderful ministry, but losing a baby is difficult enough without dealing with all of the aftermath alone and seeing Kara again at this mass reminded me of how much she did for our family and so many others.   If you live in the Northern or Central Virginia area remember that  a m.o.m.s peace is here if you or someone you know needs them.  Or better yet, contact Kara and see how you can help.  Goodness knows she could use it.  

Our Lady of Sorrows, pray for us.

On Being Afraid of Loving Things

"I don't dare go out," said Anne, in the tone of a martyr relinquishing all earthly joys.  "If I can't stay here there is no use in my loving Green Gables.  And if I go out there and get acquainted with all those trees and flowers and the orchard and the brook I'll not be able to help loving it.  It's hard enough now, so I won't make it any harder.   I want to go out so much--everything seems to be calling to me, "Anne, Anne, come out to us Anne, Anne, we want a playmate"--but it's better not.  There is no use in loving things if you have to be torn from them, is there?  And it's so hard to keep from loving things, isn't it?  That was why I was so glad when I thought I was going to live here.  I thought I'd have so many things to love and nothing to hinder me.  But that brief dream is over.  I am resigned to my to my fate now, so I don't think I'll go out for fear I'll get unresigned again."                                                                  

~L.M. Montgomery

I'm feeling very Anne-ish lately.

Being pregnant again after losing a baby is very emotional.  I think it's a natural reaction to feel distanced from the baby, afraid to really love them because you know they too might be torn from you.  But at the same time, it is really hard to keep from loving things, isn't it?  Especially wonderful things like babies.

I've noticed a marked uptick in October baby announcements this past week.  Everyone's reaching that second trimester milestone and feeling like it's "safe" to finally announce their big news to the world.  It probably goes without saying that I don't feel "safe" yet.  We actually take the opposite view of pregnancy announcements and tend to announce all of our babies almost as soon as we know about them ourselves in order to maximize the amount of people praying for us and for them.  After all, if I were to wait until I felt like it was really "safe" to announce each new child, I think I would have just recently announced Margaret to the world.  Now that she's pushing eighteen months I'm fairly confident she's going to make it and I hardly ever sneak into her room to make sure she's still breathing anymore.  She feels safe.  Not that any of them are ever actually safe.  Not really.

I've got another two months to go before I clear that twenty week hurdle that always looms so large during my pregnancies.  I'm longing for those little flutters that will give me a bit of reassurance before facing each meeting with the doppler and the forced look of calm on the doctor's face as they search for a heartbeat that may or may not ever be heard again.  At the same time though, I'm working on unresigning myself to the fear of losing this little one too and loving them despite all of the things that might be.  

{p,h,f,r} My Grandmother's Quilt Edition

I don't have my photos properly divided into categories, but I've been linking up my progress on this quilt for so long that it seemed wrong not to link up the finished piece. You'll just have to forgive me this time.*

My grandmother had several of these quilt tops tucked away in a trunk in her room for as long as I can remember.  She had hand pieced them with an array of fabric scraps--it looks to be mostly old clothing and maybe, flour sacks?  She never told me the story of them--when she made them, why they were never finished--and I never thought to ask until it was too late.  Isn't that the way it always goes.  You think there will be plenty of time later, and then your time is up.

It took a long time to finish hand-quilting it since it's a queen sized quilt and I am a slow quilter but I didn't mind.  It's relaxing to have a project you can pull out and work on a bit in the evenings without making a huge mess--although it did take up a fair bit of space and I think Chris was glad to not be constantly shifting it around the living room anymore.

My goal had originally been to finish it by Thanksgiving so that I would be able to work on a baby quilt once we found out what we were having.  Obviously that timetable changed when it turned out that little Frances wouldn't be needing a quilt after all.  When I called Chris to let him know we had lost her and that he needed to meet me at the hospital for my induction the one thing I asked him to bring was the quilt.  I knew it would be a comfort and that I needed something to do with my hands while I labored.

When you're experiencing a typical labor you can distract yourself with something like binge watching Gilmore Girls while you eat as much as you can before you head to the hospital where you know they won't give you so much as a popsicle, not that you'd have time to eat one once you arrived anyway.  But when you're laboring for hours and hours to bring a child into the world who you know you've already lost you need a different sort of distraction.  One that you can pore all your grief and prayers and tears into.  That's what this quilt became for me, at the hospital and then at home as well.  I was almost sorry to finish it.

I suppose Frances got her quilt after all.

...

*I guess this post could still be considered pretty and real, but I really veered off the happy and funny once I started writing didn't I?  I'm going to link up to Like Mother, Like Daughter anyway because I do want to share the finished quilt, and the quilt does make me happy, if not actually upbeat.

Why I Won't Be Fasting This Lent

or alternately, Take That Pregnancy Test Out of Your Mouth!

Squint real hard* and you will notice a definite second line there which was confirmed by much cheaper and apparently more reliable tests of the dollar variety.  And yes, Margaret did decide to gnaw on this beauty while I attempted to photograph it in order to get a second opinion on whether the line was there or if I was hallucinating.  And no, I did not take a picture of that because, gross.  Super gross.  
Normally I don't find out I'm pregnant this early on but I decided to go ahead and take a test a couple of weeks ago because I had a dentist appointment and I knew they would ask and I really dislike being that woman who always gives the Catholic Shrug and replies, "I don't know?  Maybe? I mean you never know, right?" [insert awkward look here].  PS that awkward look belongs to both me and whomever just asked me about the state of my womb.  Awkwardness all around.  Well anyway, the test was negative so I said "no," and also, "bring on the radiation!"

Whoops.

I guess the CDC should add getting x-rays to the list of things we women of childbearing age should never ever do unless we're contracepting.  There was also wine involved in my post-negative-pregnancy-test-pity-party, sorry CDC.

Well, taking an early pregnancy test led to a compulsion to keep testing until I knew for sure I wasn't actually pregnant.  So last weekend I took another test and it was positive and then I made my darling husband buy me more tests so I could check again, and I still have more so I can check again and again if I want.

So, that's our big news.  I'm pregnant again and due late September and feeling all the feelings you feel when you've just lost a little one and you find yourself with another one on the way.  And I'm oversharing with the internet because I could really use your prayers.  They make such a difference.  They truly do.

...

Baby Katharine Louise and Baby Frances Cabrini pray for us.

*I've been ever so sweetly informed that I am unable to correctly read a pregnancy test and you don't in fact need to squint at all to see that this test is positive.  In my defense EPT has made a simple thing like seeing the control line and then the test line absurdly complicated by adding a third, completely unnecessary, and apparently non functioning line to make a super fun plus sign whose main purpose in life is to confuse already stressed out women.  Why EPT?  Why?  If you insist on a plus sign being your gimmick mightn't you at least make sure both lines of the plus sign react in the same way?   A nice, bright, all-one-shade-of-blue, plus sign.  Is that too much to ask?  

On Having a Bit of Consolation

We've been doing pretty well here, the stomach bug is gone, the tree is up and Advent is back on track.  I'm still grieving but it's hard to fall into a pit of despair when there's so much that needs to be done.  The last time we went through the loss of a child it was in the beginning of Lent which felt like a much more appropriate time to wallow and process our grief.  Now everything around me is pointing to the birth of a child, the birth of The Child, and it's a constant reminder that unlike Mary I am no longer heavy with child.  On the other hand, unlike during Lent, Advent provides no end to every sort of chocolate treat imaginable to help me drown my sorrows, so at least there's that.

And also unlike last time, I have this precious little one who is very much still a baby, my baby, and still needs to be held and rocked and nursed and cuddled and who is such a consolation to my weary heart.

We have lost much, but we still have much to be thankful for--sweet baby snuggles and candy for dinner to name a few.

On Being Open to Life and Open to Death

I should have known the day wasn't going to go well when, nervous about my OB appointment later that morning, I opened up my book of daily meditations and found the day's title was A Christian Outlook on Death.

When I got to my appointment and there was no heartbeat to be found I wasn't taken by complete surprise because, unlike last time, I now spend the first half of each pregnancy thinking that everything is probably going to go horribly wrong and then the second half trying to convince myself that everything will be fine.  After I got past that formidable twenty week ultrasound with John and then Margaret I made them each a quilt by hand.  Every night I would sit down and patiently sew stitch after stitch praying and willing myself to believe that I would get the chance to wrap those babies up in their quilts and that I wasn't wasting my time with keepsakes that my baby would never need.

The day before this appointment I spent my time putting my house in order; tidying up, scrubbing the floors, dusting the furniture, folding all the laundry--just in case.  Just in case I would need to call in help.  Just in case it was weeks before I felt up to doing any of those tasks again.  Just in case I would be spending the night in a hospital laboring to bring one more child into the world who had already left it for another.  

If you had asked us a few babies back how many children we were going to have, we would have told you we were "open to life" but we would have had no idea of the full meaning of the phrase.  We've found out the hard way that you can't be open to bringing new life  into the world without also being open to death.  When you've carried death inside of yourself the reality of it presses in on you in a new way.  Every child lost is a reminder that death is always there waiting, inevitable--that we don't know how long we or our children really have.

We don't know how many children we'll be given that won't be ours to keep but we're open to life anyway.  We're open to death, we're open to love and we're open to loss and suffering if that's what we're called to endure.  We're open to God's will for our lives and trying to accept whatever that may be whether it's what we want or what he knows we need.

 . . .

After a good deal of arguing back and forth we were able to take our baby home with us from the hospital and bury her that afternoon at a nearby monastery. We are so thankful for everyone's prayers and offers of help and food and especially for all those who brought me wine and/or chocolate.  Please continue to pray for us as we grieve for the loss of this tiny, precious child.

Baby Frances, pray for us.

A Shiny New Soul

Well, as of yesterday, little John Michael is an official member of the Church!  He was clearly super excited about it.......

All the boys have worn the same little baptismal gown for each of their baptisms and this little man had the distinction of also wearing the same little hat that Chris wore at his baptism and when the time came we also used his little white stole circa 1982 (much better than the sad bit of white felt the church offered).  I don't remember having Chris' baptism outfit when the other boys were baptized or I feel like I would have dressed them in some of the pieces as well.  Chris maintains that I snubbed my nose at his outfit when David was baptized and insisted on buying the more traditional gown (as opposed to the little pants outfit he wore)....I don't remember that, but, it could be that I'm just getting more sentimental in my old age :)

Chris thought baby John looked even more like a girl with the hat on than the other boys did, who sadly went hatless......I pointed out that it was his hat so clearly it is meant to be worn by little boys.  

And really, if I was buying a baptismal gown for a little girl it would have involved much more lace....and bows....and little lacy socks with bows.....

I wanted to buy a little slip to go under the boys' gown so I could embroider all their names and baptism dates on it...............okay, I guess I'm definitely getting more sentimental......

I never did get the slip, but grandma Reintjes gave us a little baptism gift set that had a little white blanket in it so the night before I had the sudden inspiration to embroider that instead.  Being the night before the baptism though, I didn't quite finish and John's name still needs to be done.  I'm sure I'll get to that any day now :)

                                                                                                ...



Now, for those of you paying close attention, we did choose this particular date for our little man's baptism because of its significance to our family.  

It's hard to believe that it was just a  year ago that we lost our little girl.  I don't think the pain of that loss is something that will ever fully disappear, but clearly we have been very blessed this year and I am filled with so much more happiness now, as I hold this new little miracle in my arms, than I thought could ever be possible one year ago as those same arms held her tiny little body and felt so very empty.

So yesterday was a day of mourning and a day of celebration.   Life can be funny like that.

This Might Actually Be Happening.....

With three weeks left to go it has finally hit me that this little boy may actually, really and truly be coming.

Christmas was difficult this year, I kept looking at our stockings and thinking that we were a man down--well a girl down actually, and pondering the fact that this should have been Katharine's first Christmas but instead I was carrying this new little miracle under my heart. Although I've been trying to prepare for him I couldn't quite believe that he was really on his way.  That in turn of course led to a slight post-Christmas panic over the fact that other than setting up the crib and bassinet, I hadn't actually made anything ready for his upcoming arrival--the baby clothes were unwashed and not a newborn diaper was to be found in the house--just kidding, we never have newborn diapers in the house, have you seen the size of my babies?

Hopefully this little one isn't trying to top his brothers or he'll be pushing eleven pounds.   I'm already down to three shirts that actually cover this ridiculousness.  I think in the past when I got to this point I just alternated my two summer maternity dresses and hoped no one noticed....and although this is only Florida winter as my lovely husband is prone to say, it's still nippy enough not to bust out the August maternity wear.....hopefully these last few shirts will continue to hold or I'll have to start pretending my one winter dress is a tunic that looks really stylish over jeans.

Here's me at almost 37 weeks.....

The boys are really excited about John Michael's impending arrival and David kindly asked me last week if I would just lie down on my bed all day and see if I could get him to "pop out."  He's also getting more and more curious about how my belly button is going to recover once his brother explodes out of it and I have a feeling he's starting to doubt my increasingly evasive answers......

Don't worry, in between bouts of  couch resting to catch my breath I've been busy with my preparations (all the baby clothes are freshly laundered and folded) and Chris, dutiful husband that he is, has been plugging away at my honey-do list including turning the dresser that resides in the baby's closet from red to white.  A task that I know he really did not want to take on, mostly because no one else sees that it doesn't match the room since, you know--it's in the closet.  In the end he understood that it was important because I on the other hand knew it was in there, laughing at me with it's mismatched paint, daring me to do something about it.......or maybe he was worried that if he didn't paint it for me he was liable to come home from work to find that I had gotten out the dolly and moved it into the garage to paint it myself......

He also mounted our giant wall map to a piece of wood and framed it out with some molding--it looks just like it did at our old house but now it's movable as opposed to stapled to the wall :)

Now the baby's/guest room is officially done, and by done I mean hod-podged together mostly from things we already had that all came together as if it had always been meant to be.....

.........with the exception of these pillows I found on sale at Target and this cute little frog I found on Etsy.  He just reminded me of Florida and all the little frogs that cover our home in warmer weather--it seemed nicer than an ode to the cockroaches or swarms of mosquitoes that also cover our home.....

The main focus of my baby prep energies over the last week however has been this.......

Oh yes I did :)  I've actually made my dreams come true and finished my very first quilt completely from instructions I found on the internet and it isn't a disaster.  I even hand quilted the whole thing--granted the hand quilting mostly looks like a child did it, but towards the edges I started to get pretty good at it if I do say so myself!  The whole back is made from the old duvet we inherited from uncle Nick and aunt Elizabeth long ago, some pieces are from daddy's shirts, and some pieces are from daddy's underpants--I won't tell little John his quilt is made from old underthings if you don't :)

Now, I really should look into buying some diapers.......

Seven Years and Four Babies.....

Yesterday was our anniversary. That's right, seven years ago Chris and I were saying our I dos and, in retrospect, I don't think we had any idea exactly what we were getting ourselves into--what idealistic newlyweds do?  The moves, the deployments, the babies, the losses--I could never have imagined the storms we would face or the graces we would receive to stand against them, or maybe more accurately to hold each other up through them.  Marriage transforms you into a better person--if you let it--and that transformation can be very painful.  It's not easy to put someone else's needs ahead of your own day in and day out.   It's not easy to love someone more than you love yourself--that takes real work--and much prayer.  Lucky for me I'm married to the most wonderful husband I could ever have imagined and oftentimes it feels like he's the one who's putting me first, putting our family first, and never (okay, rarely) complaining.  He takes care of us in that you know everything is going to be okay because he's there sort of way.  

And, no, we aren't fifteen in this picture.....I can see how you could be confused........

Yesterday was also Katharine's due date.  It was one of those crazy emotional days where you just aren't sure what you're feeling.  I was grateful for my husband and my marriage, grateful for this new little life within me, but also grieving for the life we lost, the little girl I barely had time to know but whom I'll always love.


Seven years and four babies.....I know I've been blessed beyond what I deserve.  I could go on and on about the beauty of marriage and babies but I could never put it as eloquently as Pope John Paul II so I'll just leave it to him:

"According to the plan of God, marriage is the foundation of the wider family, since the very institution of marriage and conjugal love are ordained to the procreation and education of children, in whom they find their crowning.

In its most profound reality, love is essentially a gift; and conjugal love, while leading the spouses  to the reciprocal knowledge which makes them one flesh, does not end with the couple, because it makes them capable of the greatest possible gift, the gift by which they become cooperators with God for giving life to a new human person.  Thus the couple, while giving themselves to one another, give not just themselves but also the reality of children who are a living reflection of their love, a permanent sign of conjugal unity and  a living and inseparable sythesis of their being a father and a mother.  

When they become parents, spouses receive from God the gift of a new responsibility.  Their parental love is  called to become for the children the visible sign of the very love of God, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named."

Familiaris Consortio

You should probably just go ahead and read the whole thing :)

Happy Mother's Day to Me

This year Mother's Day was difficult.....difficult because I had to face the day without Katharine and difficult  because of the 3 AM wakeup I got from Henry who was out of his blankets and upside down in his bed begging me to "cover him." This was followed by another wakeup at 3:15 in which he grabbed my hand with his own unfortunately wet hand and begged me to "dry it off."  It was vomit.  He needed oh so much more than just to be dried off.

Such is the life of a mom.  But you know it's worth it.....

I found this this week in my book of meditations In Conversation with God: Meditations for Each Day of the Year (which you really should buy already...I promise it's totally worth it!)

"At all times, and no less in ours, Christian women play a most important part in the apostolate and in the handing on of the faith.  Women are called to bring to the family, to society and to the Church, characteristics which are their own and which they alone can give:  their gentle warmth and untiring generosity, their love for detail, their quick-wittedness and intuition, their simple and deep piety, their   constancy.  The Church expects from women commitment and witness to all that contributes to the dignity of the human person and furthers their true happiness.

When these qualities with which God has endowed women grow and develop, her life and work will be really constructive, fruitful and full of meaning, whether she spends the day dedicated to her husband and children or whether, having given up the idea of marriage for a noble reason, she has given herself fully to other tasks.


Each women in her own sphere of life, if she is faithful to her divine and human vocation, can and in fact does achieve the fullness of her human personality.  Let us remember that Mary, Mother of God and Mother of men, is not only a model but also proof of the transcendental value of an apparently unimportant life."

The proof of the transcendental value of an apparently unimportant life...I love it....and really, who could look at these guys and say this work of mine is unimportant?

On a brighter note, Chris had this little (big?) beauty (the Zojirushi Home Bakery Supreme 2-Pound-Loaf Breadmaker) waiting for me as my gift.  Or does the promise of fresh baked bread make this count as a gift for himself?

My first loaf of whole wheat honey sandwich bread....a little flat but I call it a success!