That which is obvious

I'm currently in a long email exchange with a former business associate of my husband's, a brilliant European chemist. I don't even know him very well but I emailed him to tie up some loose ends with some business dealings and happened to mention that we're Catholic. He asked how I went from atheism to Catholicism and now we're currently hashing out the age old science vs. faith debate at about 1,000 words per email.

His emails basically consist of him throwing out scientific principles and facts in dizzying detail to show that even science-minded Christians who try to use physics and biology to bolster their faith in God have it wrong. Some examples:

[Responding to my comment that DNA is information:] DNA isn't really information, it's just a series of 4 chemicals chained together by sugars and phosphates, which make other chemicals. It just looks very slightly like the way computer code is put together, in a series of bits, so ignorant journalists tell ignorant tabloid readers it's computer data. It ain't.

and

[Responding to my comment that the big bang unfolded similarly to the description in Genesis:] And the universe didn't become transparent until after about 300,000 years, so there wasn't any light at the beginning. Photons couldn't condense out of the soup anyway until the temperature had reduced sufficiently. The beginning, depending on how you define that, was essentially the explosion into three big spacial dimensions of what we might call spacetime. Which begs the question 'how did that come about?' which has several possible answers, depending on how you define your terms, a current leading contender being that two other multidimensional spacetimes (what we call 'branes') collided spewing out our chunk of spacetime.

I post these just to give examples, not to start a debate about these specific comments. The point is, a lot of people hear this sort of thing and think that it does seem like the obvious truths of science just demolish the claims of religion. Honestly, it's easy for doubters like me who were raised to believe that the scientific method is the key to all truth and knowledge to be intimidated by such claims. It just seems, you know, SO OBVIOUS that this debunks religious teachings.

But this is ignoring some other obvious truths as well.

I often think about a little incident that happened while I was on vacation last year (interestingly, it was just two days after writing this first post on my old site). My husband and I were having drinks with a friend, a successful lawyer who has always struck me as very intelligent. I happened to mention that I was exploring religion for the first time in my life, that I'd always been an atheist.

He let out a loud laugh. "You mean you think THIS," he said, playfully punching my husband in the arm, "just kind of randomly came about?" He took a moment and looked around the cheesy casino bar with the dinging slot machines, tacky neon lights and group of frat boys laughing loudly at the bar and outstretched his hands triumphantly, "What about this?"

I suppose you would have had to have been there, and perhaps that third gin and tonic made his explanation of his point less than Chesterton-esque, but the look of sheer confusion on his face at the notion that we're soulless, purposeless creatures really struck me. I think of it often. At that moment it really hit me that if you put the scientific method aside for a moment and think of how you feel when you hear a beautiful piece of music, think of your love for your children, or hear about some great cruelty in the world, there is no doubt that we have a soul and are here for some purpose. It's SO OBVIOUS.

Godparents?

I just realized that I must have godparents. I was baptized in the Catholic Church so I have to at least have one godparent, right? It's kind of sad that I've never heard anything about it and don't know who it might be. I'll have to ask.

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So anyway, speaking of which, now that the new baby is here I'm going to get both of my children baptized at once. I'm really looking forward to that. I just have one problem: the godparent issue. I know that you want people who take their Catholic faith seriously, and ideally who are close to you in age so that they would be around to guide your children in the faith if anything should happen to you and your spouse.

Hmm. My husband and I are both only children, none of our parents or cousins are practicing Catholics, and none of our good friends are practicing Catholics. In fact, there are only two people who we know well who are Catholic and take their faith seriously, both aunts who are over 50 years of age. We do know a few couples who are devout Catholics, but I wouldn't consider them close friends, they're more "good acquaintances".

So what do people usually do in this situation? I know I only have to have one godparent per child, so the two aunts would do in a pinch, but I'm out of godparents then for future children. What about these Catholic acquaintances? Should I even consider them? I really don't know any of them well and they'd be quite surprised to be asked, and I would be concerned about placing such heavy responsibility on people I don't know that well. But maybe I should consider it as an option. At least they're roughly the same age as we are.

Thoughts?

Quick updates

- We're finally enrolled in RCIA (I think -- I'll believe it when I see it) and classes start in September, so we're looking forward to that.

- For those of you who have suggested I get spiritual direction on the NFP/Coumadin issue, do you mean talking specifically to my priest or do deacons or others do that sort of thing? Our poor priest seems really overwhelmed and it's pretty difficult to get on his calendar so I haven't tried talking to him about any of this yet. But maybe there's someone else at my parish I could speak with. I'll see who runs the NFP and marriage classes over there.

- While pondering my birth control dilemma I had an interesting realization: I asked myself if I doubted the Church's teachings about birth control on a theoretical, societal level. I immediately thought, "No way! Contraception is one of the worst things that's ever happened to civilization. Duh." So that was encouraging. I realized that my doubts on this issue aren't as black and white as they appear since I agree with the Church wholeheartedly at a theoretical level. (Pope Paul VI's predictions about what would happen if use of contraception became widespread are eerily accurate.)

- I set aside the book I was reading and got Christopher West's Good News about Sex and Marriage. (I wish that the cover didn't have SEX & MARRIAGE written in such large print on the cover -- kind of embarrassing when I leave it sitting out in the living room). :) While some of it is hard for me to grasp (e.g. sex as a symbol of Christ's unity with the Church) I find it to be an excellent read overall. I found this excerpt to be particularly striking:

Sexual attitudes and behaviors have the power to orient not only individuals but entire nations and societies toward respect for life -- or toward its utter disregard. To be sure, when lust is woven into the fabric of a society, that society can be nothing but a "culture of death".

Thinking about this sort of thing reminds me, as I said above, that my doubts about contraception really aren't as deep as they seem.

Trying harder

I've spent most of today and yesterday thinking about my current spiritual crisis and have gotten a lot of clarity on the issue.

First of all, I thought again about what my options really are: the Catholic Church, the Orthodox Church, or the "God Lite" route where I talk about being a "spiritual" person while doing whatever I want. Looking back, this isn't really that much of a dilemma: I've made too many people vow to kick my ass if I ever say I'm "spiritual but not religious," so that rules out the third option; the teachings of the Orthodox Church are appealing to me, but I don't feel drawn to it, so that puts option number two aside for the moment. And then there's the first option: the Catholic Church.

The process that's led me to get this far into the Church has been more like falling in love with a person than a cerebral theological pursuit. Since the moment I began seriously considering becoming Catholic I've felt an intense, gut-level pull toward the Church that's not like anything I've ever experienced. On an intellectual level I've had some reservations -- sometimes, like now, major reservations -- but on the emotional, gut level I've never really doubted that this is where I'm meant to be.

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I heard a wonderful priest, Fr. Eugene Morris, on Relevant Radio's show The Inner Life this afternoon. They were discussing this very topic and Fr. Morris had some excellent insights on the issue of not feeling close to God. He made two analogies: the first that getting to know God is like getting to know a person -- you need to invest time in the relationship to really get to know that person. The second analogy was of prayer being like working out -- you wouldn't expect to see results if you didn't do it very often.

Now that I can relate to.

One of my more annoying hobbies is my never-ending quest to lose about ten pounds, so the similarities to prayer and working out really grabbed me. And I asked myself: if I looked back over the past few months and replaced the time I spent praying and/or in church with time at the gym, would I expect to see any differences in my physical appearance? Hmm. One hour each week on Sunday and, say, an average of two minutes per day praying. Umm, no. That wouldn't get me anywhere. So why is it that I would expect to have gotten anywhere in my spiritual life?

Just like there are some people who can be fit and trim without ever giving a second thought to diets or exercise, there are some people who seem to have a solid faith in God and the Church without ever having to work at it. Maybe it's just the way their brain is wired, maybe it was their upbringing, who knows. But one thing is clear in both cases: I am not one of those people.

So just as I don't spend any time wondering why those last ten pounds aren't coming off when I've been eating whatever I want and hardly ever exercising, I don't think I should be spending any time wondering why I don't feel close to God when I spend less than two hours per week in any sort of prayerful activity.

Maybe it won't work -- just like I sometimes feel that I can't lose any weight no matter how much I cut calories or exercise -- but I certainly have no excuse to complain about it until I've actually tried.

It's time for me to take more responsibility here. Yes, I am coming at all this from a disadvantage since my atheist background wires me to prize intellect and reason to the absurd exclusion of anything that can't be proved on paper (which is, really, the typical prideful human tendency to want to be like God, to need to believe that we know everything). But that doesn't necessarily mean that there's no way I can ever embrace the faith that I feel being kindled somewhere deep down inside. It may just mean that I need to try harder.

Two steps back

First of all, thanks for all the comments to the last post. And don't worry about leaving comments with your opinions about medical issues, picturing me being rushed into the ER on a gurney screaming, "But my blog readers told me to stop taking my medicine!" :) Any decisions I make will be based on my opinion, my doctors' opinions and prayer only. I'm just interested to hear what others thing as a thought exercise.

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So anyway, interesting how much the current situation -- the Coumadin/NFP dilemma, constant pain and sleep deprivation -- has made my doubts so much easier to indulge. Not just because there would be fewer short-term problems if I could just use some sort of (non-estrogen) birth control, but because exploring these problems in any other forum than this site leaves me surrounded by non-Catholic opinions that seem so alluringly...easy, and convenient, and even reasonable.

For example, I Googled stuff like Catholic Coumadin to see if I could find stories of other people in this same situation. I found one message board where a woman wrote in to say that she was Catholic and worried about not using birth control while on Coumadin. A couple of commenters wrote in to explain that they were raised Catholic so they knew where she was coming from and even wistfully remembered those days when they actually believed that silly birth control stuff -- ah, yes, haven't we all been through that phase -- but that the poor benighted woman need not stress about the birth control issue, nobody really believes that stuff anymore anyway. She thanked them for their good advice. I wonder what she ended up doing.

Some nosy friends and relatives have started to ask pointed questions about birth control in which the purpose is really more to tell me how horrific it would be if I got pregnant any time soon than to actually gather information ("So...is that patch thing safe for you to use or are you just going to go with an IUD?") When I told a "Catholic" friend that I was probably going to do NFP she said, "Do not tell me that you're actually buying into that birth control stuff! It's just because you're new and excited about the Church, it'll pass. But you really don't need to worry about that -- your health is at stake here!"

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And then there's the usual old doubt that's been there from the beginning. I'm back to worrying that since I was raised atheist some major synapses needed for belief got weeded out sometime around kindergarten. During times of doubt I can't hearken back to a childlike trust in God since I don't think I've ever had a childlike trust in anything. I don't even remember believing in Santa Claus.

I usually, ironically, find it easier to believe in the Church than in a vague concept of God or even Jesus, but these heavy doubts about birth control have made even that shaky, since belief in the Church and its teachings is an all or nothing endeavor -- you believe that it's infallible on all issues of doctrine and faith or you don't. And if you don't, then you don't believe in the Church. So having major doubts about one issue necessitates me putting all my faith in the Church on the backburner until I get it resolved.

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The most confusing aspect of all this is where it leaves me.

Atheism is out because it leaves so much of life unexplained, and it makes no sense for a sentient, self-conscious being to live out an existence that it knows is meaningless and finite. All of the other major world religions are out because they don't seem to speak the truth. Christianity does have a compelling story, but I can't believe in any flavor of it that believes in sola scriptura, it just doesn't make any sense to me.

So my options would appear to be to follow the Catholic Church, the Orthodox Church, or to resign myself to being "spiritual but not religious" [*gag*]. I feel like I'm in some sort of religious no-man's land.

So we'll see where this goes. I've never known belief without major reservations, but this period of doubt is particularly strong. It seems like after all these months of seeking and searching and thinking and praying that I'd be farther along than this. In fact, I feel like I'm going backwards here.

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The one glimmer of hope is that I've become quite enchanted with praying the rosary. I downloaded an album of someone saying the rosary to my iPod and have been listening to it frequently (I don't yet have the attention span to do it on my own and don't know all of the prayers/creeds yet). I can't believe more people don't do this, it's such a fantastic form of reflection, meditation and prayer.

Each time I put on my headphones for the rosary, usually in the quiet middle of the night when I'm up with the baby, I ask for help. I suppose that's really the best (and maybe the only) option here. If I'm ever going to have any sort of consistent, solid faith or get any answers to all these questions it will take a whole lot of God's help.

And maybe that's a step in the right direction. I suppose it takes some amount of faith to even open my mind to the possibility that prayer just might help, that God just might make this easier for me if I let him.

NFP and Coumadin: A dilemma

I have an interesting dilemma on my hands and I want to hear your thoughts...

Since I've been diagnosed with the crazy clotting gene, that in the unlikeliest of events I inherited from both of my parents, I am going to be treated intensely with blood thinners. I'm currently taking two different kinds. The hematologist may recommend putting me on one of them, a pretty hard core drug called Coumadin, for life; at the very least I'll be on it for quite a few months.

So Coumadin is really incompatible with pregnancy. If you get pregnant while taking it it's not good. Here's what one medical journal has to say about it:

One of the drawbacks for Coumadin is the potential for birth defects and/or hemorrhage in the offspring of mothers taking the drug. There is a link between some birth defects and Coumadin taken by the mother during early pregnancy. Coumadin should be avoided in women of child bearing age unless there is absolutely no other option.

If a young woman needs to start Coumadin during the child-bearing years, it is very important to educate the patient on the potential harm to the unborn child and establish an effective birth control plan. Before starting therapy, female patients should be asked about their intent to bear children in the future, their birth control methods at present, and their religious beliefs.

For the woman who is not planning or desiring further children, sterilization by tubal ligation or hysterectomy would be the most reliable preventative step. In younger women anticipating a new or enlarging family, Coumadin should not be prescribed if any other possible choice can be used. If Coumadin is still required for clinical reasons, then birth control intervention must be prescribed as well.

A longer acting form of birth control such as an IUD or Norplant are probably best, since daily birth control pills could be accidentally or purposefully discontinued, risking an unwanted or unexpected pregnancy while taking Coumadin. Educational services like Planned Parenthood can assist in selecting birth control methods that are acceptable to the patient and their lifestyle and/or values. Prevention is far better than dealing with the consequences after a pregnancy has occurred.

Evidently I'm one of these "no other choice" people. I should really be on Coumadin. My doctor has not yet discussed birth control options with me, but I'm sure he's going to push hard for me to do Norplant or some other form of birth control. (As this article suggests, I could always talk to our good, honest friends at Planned Parenthood about it!)

So here's the situation: I'm on a drug that could cause big problems to an unborn child if I should get pregnant while I'm on it. I have a history of weird cycles so it's not unlikely that I could get pregnant accidentally and be pregnant for a while and without realizing it.

I want to trust God and the Church and shun contraception, but there are a few different ways I could do that:

1. Take the Coumadin and have an intimacy-free marriage, practicing abstinence indefinitely (I don't think this is really a serious option).

2. Take the Coumadin and trust that God will take care of any unexpected children that may come along and that the drug wouldn't harm them.

3. Get off of Coumadin and trust that God will take care of me and the blood clot issue without it.

And then I suppose the other option would be to blow off Church teaching and go ahead and use contraception. So what do you think?

There's another post coming about my thoughts on the struggle of trusting Church teaching on this very controversial issue as someone so new to the faith, but I'll save that for later. Meanwhile, what would you do if you were me?

[NOTE: I know that one obvious answer is "talk to your hematologist and see about getting on some other drug." I do plan to do that, but since I don't know what the answer will be let's assume for the sake of argument that Coumadin is my only option for treatment.]

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UPDATE: I am about to pass out. Right after I hit Publish my pharmacy called about my Lovenox prescription, the alternative to Coumadin that I'm also taking right now. She said that my insurance didn't cover all of the one month refill I just called in and asked if I still wanted it if I had to pay for part of it. I asked her what my portion was. Anyone want to guess? No? It's $875!!!! Is this some sort of liquid gold/diamon mixture? This is the price after my insurance actually covered part of it?!?! So...this one's out as a long term solution as a possible alternative to Coumadin. Almost $900/month is a bit out of my budget.

The birth story

For those of your who are curious, here's how the birth went. All in all, I was pleasantly surprised. Everyone keeps asking me whether I prefer natural childbirth at the birthing center or epidural at the hospital but I really can't decide. The epidural was amazing, but the "medicalness" (for lack of a better word) and bureaucracy of the hospital made it almost not worth it. Almost. Anyway, here's the summary:

The birth
When I first got into the hospital gown and got into bed there was a flurry of activity where I was signing papers while being hooked up to a blood pressure cuff, contraction monitor, fetal monitor, and they were prepping the IV. It was during shift change so I couldn't tell who exactly was supposed to be doing what and there were a lot of people in and out. I felt myself start to freak out a little bit. I felt like I was being prepped for brain surgery; it seemed like such an unnatural way to have a baby.

The room I was in was nice, but it was not "just like a hotel room" like some of my friends who'd gone to that hospital had described. The birthing center rooms are, truly, just like a hotel room. This was a hospital room with frilly curtains. But that was fine, it was nice to see that they made an effort to make mothers feel comfortable.

I didn't realize how much your nurse is in charge of your labor. If you got a stopwatch and timed how long the OB was in the room with me in total, including the birth, it would have added up to less than 10 minutes. I was lucky to get a fantastic nurse who I really clicked with so I didn't mind that the doctor wasn't there much, I just thought it was interesting.

They started the Pictocin and the nurse told me to prepare myself for some sudden, hard contractions. OK. Thirty minutes later, nothing. She turned up the Pictocin. Still nothing. Broke the water and turned it up again. Nothing. The monitor was registering some contractions and I was slowly dilating but I felt nothing.

This patter of turning up the Pictocin with no reaction continued. They hadn't really experienced anything like it before. After consulting with the OB and all the other nurses they decided to switch the IV bag since it seemed that the only explanation could be that there wasn't actually Pictocin in there (to which I was thinking, "Greeeeat, I'm being pumped full of some mystery drug.") But nothing changed with the new bag so they continued to be perplexed.

Finally the contractions started, and they were strong. At around 5 cm they were getting quite strong and I started thinking about what pain management technique I should use. I learned from my son's birth that I'm not a "relaxation" kind of person -- Bradley Method really didn't do it for me -- so I tried something else: listening to rap music. I asked everyone, including my husband, to leave the room for a while. I grabbed my iPod, turned up the volume, and let the wise words of Tupac lead me through the contractions.

I cannot believe how well it worked.

The OB came in to check on me somewhere around 6 cm. He saw me happy and relaxed in the bed with my headphones on, and was very surprised when he looked at the printout of my contractions. "Umm, how are you doing? I'm surprised you haven't asked for an epidural yet." I told him I was managing the contractions just fine and he asked what my secret was. He thought I was kidding when I told him it was rap music.

The epidural
At that point the nurse came in and strongly encouraged me to get an epidural. I told her I felt like I should wait until I had even one contraction I couldn't handle, but she said she was worried that I would wait too long and then wouldn't have the option. So I agreed.

I was surprised at how intense getting the epidural was. It's a minor surgical procedure! It really freaked me out. I'm not a fan of having needles millimeters away from my spinal cord while being implored to "hold still!" But I'm glad I did it. The rest of the labor progressed quickly, and I let my mother and mother-in-law be in the room for the birth, something I wouldn't have done if I'd been doing natural childbirth.

The rest of the birth after the epidural was painless. It was amazing. I was able to really take in the experience much more so than when I was out of my head with pain when my son was born.

Postpartum at the hospital
So the birth was really good, actually. The next three days in the hospital were sort of a mixed bag. The hospital was much more concerned about pain management than the birthing center, constantly offering me pain meds, ice packs and other comfort aids, which was awesome. It was weird to be in a hospital with the baby since I went home right after I had my son, but I kind of got used to it.

All the nurses on the floor had heard of the baby because of her red hair, and all the OB's on the floor had heard of me because of my pain management through rap music technique. :)

I had more than one problem with the nursery staff, though, when they lied to me about what procedures they were going to do, refused to tell me why they were taking her blood, ignored my refusal of the hepatitis vaccine (my husband caught it right before they were about to do it), took her away for two hours right after she was born, etc. They seemed to think of her as their property and bristled at any inquiries on my part.

But, for the most part, everyone was nice and I didn't really mind staying in the hospital.

The baby's big brother seems to like her quite a bit. I am so incredibly grateful for the fact that we live with my mom. Since he's constantly around her and we have a regular babysitter he doesn't require my attention 24/7, so he's not particularly bothered by the fact that I'm busy with the new baby a lot.

The only concern now is how sleepy she is. My son was super-alert, super-intense from day one, only reluctantly sleeping, preferring to eat or look around day and night. This baby is the total opposite, sleeping the vast majority of the time, only reluctantly waking up to eat for just five or ten minutes at a time. She's gaining weight (best baby purchase ever: my own digital baby scale) but I just worry since she's so different from her brother and I'm on two different blood thinners (one of which my doctor assured me is "probably" safe for breastfeeding) and Vicodin for the recently-reappearing blood clot pain. I would like to sit back and enjoy a baby who actually likes to sleep, but as a paranoid new mom it's hard not to worry despite my doctors' reassurances.

So, that's a summary of my week last week. Hopefully as things settle down this blog will be back to it's regularly scheduled programming soon.

I want to add that I've been exceptionally blessed with how well this has all gone -- caring, wonderful people being thrown in my path at every turn -- and I think that that is in no small part thanks to all the people who have prayed for us over these past few weeks. Thank you.

A very quick update

She's here! The baby was born Monday. All went well. She's very sweet and has a full head of red hair. More updates as soon as I feel a little less like I've been hit by a truck. :)

Tomorrow's the day

I'll arrive at the hospital at 6:00 tomorrow (Monday) morning to begin the induction. To be honest I feel more apprehensive than excited. I just don't know what to expect with this induction and the doctors being so nervous about it all, and then just the usual worries of going from one to two children. But I know it will all be wonderful and what I'm about to experience is nothing short of a miracle. Sometimes it's easy to get bogged down in the details and forget that I'll have a little baby girl to bring home.

I've felt like God has had a hand in much of this, like there's a particular purpose to all that's transpired. I'll elaborate on what I think that purpose might be in another post. But I definitely feel like God is looking out for us.

When I first felt the pain in my calf a couple of weeks ago I knew what it was. I saw the writing on the wall and knew that everything about this pregnancy was going to change quickly. I felt helpless because it seemed like nobody knew what to do -- the midwives, my general doctor, even the doctor at the Heart Hospital Emergency Room didn't seem to be confident in their diagnoses and didn't know what to tell me. I needed help. And not just from any doctor. I knew that I would probably end up being referred to other specialists and probably an OB/GYN, and I know that doctors tend to refer to other doctors who are like themselves, so I had to get it right the first time. I didn't have time to shop around and find just the right doctor. I needed someone who was good, who could help me, and ideally who would respect the difficult position I was in of having to change everything about the birth plan at the last minute. Quite a few doctors around here are notorious for their open hostility to midwives and their clients, and while they're entitled to their opinions, it's not something I felt like I could handle well with everything else going on.

So I looked up the Cardiologist section of my insurance's Preferred Providers booklet, picked out the first name I saw, said a little prayer, and made an appointment. And this cardiologist has turned out to be one of the best doctors I've ever had. And he then referred me to great hematologist, who referred me to the kind, understanding OB/GYN who'll be delivering my baby. All three doctors great -- especially the OB, which makes all the difference. I am so grateful for how well that worked out, for the great care I've received.

So please pray for the safety of the baby; and for me that I can let go of my nervousness and apprehension, trust in God, and appreciate the profundity of this priceless, undeserved gift that I am about to receive.

What I'm reading

I just finished Chesterton's Everlasting Man last night. Like most Chesterton I read I know I got a lot out of it but couldn't tell you exactly what that is. I feel like it's changed my view of the world, God, and man but can't really say how (though I do have a few other things on my mind...)

I'm now starting a little book I picked up at our local Catholic gift store, In the Beginning, There Were Stories: Thoughts About the Oral Tradition of the Bible by William Bausch. I'd never heard of it but it looks fascinating.

So many blessings

So I went back to the hematologist today for a quick follow-up visit to make sure we're all on the same page for the birth, confirm that all the blood tests he did were negative for anything weird, check my blood thinner dosage, etc. But things didn't go according to plan when he said that he did find something in the blood work (to which I was thinking, he just took too much blood -- you test eight vials of blood and you're bound to find something!)

Turns out the clot was not just a freak event of pregnancy. I have prothrombin mutation 20210, a genetic disorder that basically means that my blood is overzealous about clotting. Evidently it's not uncommon for those of us with a lot of Irish genes, although I inherited it from both parents which makes it worse and is very rare. [I want to throw in for general info and for potential Googlers that the doctor mentioned that if I also had the Factor V Leiden Mutation, which is somewhat common, I would be at high risk for recurrent miscarriage. Fortunately I do not.]

So what does this mean? Well, for one I will be the lucky recipient of some sort of big boots that I have to wear during labor to keep the blood circulating from my legs. And those of you who read my post where I expressed my uncensored feelings about hospital births know I'm lovin' that! Speaking of which, all future pregnancies will be "high risk" so I'm done with the birthing center or homebirths for good. And I'll be giving myself shots of blood thinner for something along the timeline of "forever" and get to go in to have my blood drawn every other day in the first few weeks postpartum. Oh, and since the trauma of birth kicks the clotting mechanism into high gear, they're going to go all ER on me after the baby is born and monitor me heavily for at least a couple of days (we'll see how necessary they really think it is when I tell them I'm broke and my insurance isn't paying for it).

What's funny -- and amazing -- about all of this is that I really don't care. The hematologist commented that he was surprised that I seemed to be in such a good mood considering all this news and that I'm 8.5 months pregnant. And a year ago I would have been all upset and flustered about this. But something about this new worldview of mine, this new life of seeing life as a Catholic and a Christian, made it seem like today was filled with blessings and good news.

- I'm still going to have a healthy baby.

- I'm not longer eligible to take the Pill, which is awesome. It's nice to have a medical reason to throw out when I don't feel like explaining my family planning decisions to non-Catholic doctors, nosy family members, etc.

- I am now under doctor's orders to get off my ass. (This ties in nicely to the forthcoming Part 2 of my previous post). Being sedentary, especially after a physically traumatic event like childbirth, puts someone with this condition at high risk for a clot developing, so getting out and walking more is no longer something that I can mean to do but just never quite get around to. I've wanted to be a more active person for a couple of years now, and now it'll happen.

- Having to go have my blood drawn every other day starting immediately after the baby's born sounds horrible to me. Finding someone to watch my son, having to take the baby, having to have blood drawn with my fear of needles -- ugh. But over the past few months I've found that events like this are prime opportunities to make me realize how trivial my problems are and how abundant my blessing are. Every time I grouse about something I don't want to do I ask myself, "Is it really THAT bad?" And the answer is usually no. And then I start thinking about all the things that are good about the situation.

And that's one of the amazing things about the Christian mindset. When you stop seeing yourself as the center of the universe and dwelling on how everything affects you and what you wanted and what your plans were, you can't help but see the big picture, or at least get a glimpse of it. And from that view, most of life's "problems" seem pretty insignificant.

That's one of the things I'm finding to be most interesting about living life according to Catholic doctrine: it works. It's not always fun or easy or what I feel like doing, but it gives me sense of serenity and calmness that I've never experienced anywhere else. Not even close. It's one of the reasons that I'm not as concerned lately with not "feeling" God's presence very often: I'm going to follow Church teachings either way. If there is no God and they're basing their teachings on an imaginary deity, in some ways that makes it all the more amazing that they managed to come up with a set of teachings about life that is so insightful and effective at speaking to and dealing with the human condition.

So that's the news from the doctor. News that would have ruined my day just a year ago in my life before God now seems to be nothing more than a reminder that life is so good.

Weakness and strength - Part 1

All these aches and pains, changes in birth plans, shots and blood draws that have been going on lately have brought to the surface something I've always been aware of but never cared enough to do anything about: I'm a pretty weak person, mentally as well as physically.

This first started coming to the forefront of my consciousness last year. My son was more than a year old and had never slept through the night and the fatigue was really getting to me. We also had some very stressful situations playing out at our business, were in a precarious financial position, and I was still adjusting to not being in control of my own household (we lived with my mother, as we still do). I was grouchy. A lot. Some days I would wake up (always exhausted) and the baby would be in a bad mood and I had a bunch of stuff on my to-do list that probably wouldn't get done and I didn't want to do anyway and I would just look around and think, "This sucks!" I didn't even know what I meant by "this," I guess just life in general.

This is about the time that we hired a good family friend to babysit my son while I worked for the business. Her daughter often dropped her off at our house and would come in to say hello. Every time they walked through the front door it was like a breath of fresh air. I would hear the beep beep beep of the alarm announcing the open door and then their boisterous, happy exclamations in Spanish as they called out to let us know they were here. They were both always so cheerful and upbeat, it was hard not to cheer up just being around them.

Through our brief morning chats I got to know her daughter better, and was surprised at what I learned. Her son, who is the same age as mine, also didn't sleep through the night. In fact, he woke up more often than DB. She made her living cleaning houses and packed in as many houses as she could, often working from early morning until late at night. Like many traditional Mexican families, her husband expected a homecooked meal on the table every night with no exceptions, so as soon as she walked through the door after a long day of cleaning houses she immediately started cooking, then was solely responsible for cleaning up the kitchen, getting the kids ready for bed, and various other household duties. She usually couldn't get to bed until close to midnight, the baby would wake up many times in the night, and she had to rise early every morning to get her oldest son ready for school. Obviously naps were an unknown concept to her. She also had some stressful personal problems on top of that.

She never complains. The facts she focuses on are that she is blessed to have enough work to do and at least her children are healthy. So often I would be sulking on the couch, thinking about how exhausted I was, when she would breeze through the door like a breath of fresh air, inquiring after my wellbeing and talking about how cute my son is. I'm sure she has her down moments, and puts her best foot forward in public, but still, there is a distinct difference in her approach to daily life and mine.

I've thought about this difference a lot over the past couple of weeks. For a while the pain in my leg was clearly debilitating, but this past weekend it started to subside somewhat, and there was a gray area period where it wasn't clear if it was really so bad that I couldn't keep up with my daily activities, or perhaps if I wasn't such a wimp I could suffer through it.

I always seem to feel more low-energy than everyone else around me. If I'm walking through the house and see something that should be picked up and put away I walk right by it to do it later because *sigh* I just don't feel like it right now. I never push myself physically and am baffled by my friends who run marathons and climb things to prove to themselves that they can do it.

I'm not a whiner when it comes to what I say to other people, but I've realized lately that my internal dialogue involves a lot of whining. "I'm too tired," "I can't," "I really don't feel up to it today," and "That's too hard" are all things I say to myself silently all the time (oh...and let's not forget "It's too hot"!)

So I've spent a lot of time lately thinking about why I do this and what I can do to change it. I don't want to be such a wimp. I know what the answer is -- get off your butt and toughen up -- but that's like telling someone who's overweight to just eat less. Would that it were that easy to implement.

I've come up with some interesting answers that, like so many other things, come back to faith and God and what you perceive to be the meaning of life. I'll go into that in part 2 of this post. I'll end this one here since it's already so long, and to avoid being crushed under the weight of the irony that I'm sitting in front of my computer writing a blog post about how I sit around too much. :)

Looking nice vs. vanity

OK, let's change the subject from shots and drugs and hospitals for a moment. There's an issue that I've been enjoying pondering for a while that I was reminded of in one of the fascinating comments to Danielle Bean's post about NFP. (I've been pouring over every word of those comments -- a fascinating, and surprisingly calm, discussion.)

A commentor said this:

It is a much better representation of a big Catholic family to have a mother who also looks nice. There is one family at our church with 9 or 10 kids, and the mom always looks great. Very put together and fashionable, as do all the kids. They make me want to follow their example, and a big family just looks so doable.... On the other hand, when I see a frumpy, haggard looking mom with 9 kids and it looks like all they had time to do was roll out of bed and fumble for the nearest article of clothing, I subconsciously think.... ugh, I would never want to be them.

I care quite a bit about my physical appearance. I'm not obsessed with it, and I never seem to care quite enough to get to the gym regularly, but it is something I'm very aware of. So I've been thinking about the issue that this commentor brought up.

I feel like it's a really good thing to make a significant effort to look nice, especially as my family grows (I don't mean "sexy" of course, just healthy and well dressed). Primarily for myself and my husband and family, since I'm a big believer that the way you look on the outside impacts the way you feel on the inside, but also as an ambassador for Christianity/Catholicism. Not many people have big families these days so, like it or not, you attract a certain amount of curiosity and attention when you do. And, though people should not judge based on physical appearance, they do. And like this commentor said, if you look frumpy and haggard all the time it confirms in many people's minds the stereotype that it's just soooooooo hard to have a big family. Of course looking good is not priority number one (or even number five), but if you can, I seems like it could make a big difference for yourself and for what you represent to other people.

That said...is this just vanity? Should you not concern yourself with your physical appearance and what it may represent to others? There's a fine line there somewhere, I'm just not sure where it is.

So, to you commentors (especially women): how concerned are you with your appearance, and how do you distinguish between that and vanity? What do you think of the comment I quoted above?