Today I did something hard. Really hard. I've prayed for years that this day would not come, but it did. In the storage room I had bin of brand new baby girl clothes, toys, and decor. Since the day my daughter was stillborn nearly 5 years ago I have prayed that I would not have to give them away unused. This morning I packed them up and gave them to a friend who recently had her 14th child.
Why did I do it? Why not just continue to hang on to them? It's not like we've given up on trying to have another baby. God willing, there will be another little Darr (oh, and btw God, I'm hoping for a girl). What's another couple years?
It was time.
It was time to let go of these adorable little clothes and let an adorable little baby wear them.
It was time to stop thinking of them as Keenan's clothes. Keenan, sadly, didn't get to wear them and if we're blessed with a little girl she will deserve her own clothes. A little girl does not need to live in the shadow of her dead sister.
It was time to stop worrying about using the clothes.
It was time to let go of the final "things" I had to connect me to Keenan. After all, it's just stuff. Keenan is hanging out with the Beatific Vision, singing with the angles and saints, and is certainly not thinking about a box of clothes in the attic.
There were a few blessings out of all this. First, every single piece will be the perfect size at the right time for my friend's little girl.
Second, the youngest child in a big family will get to wear brand new clothes. No hand me downs for this mini-fashionista.
Finally, maybe it seems silly to hang on to unworn baby clothes. What's the big deal? I have plenty of clothes that my son didn't get a chance to wear in those days that he grew like a weed and I'll probably sell them in a garage sale next week without remorse. But, when a baby dies, it's different. Every single thing that would have "belonged" to that baby becomes sacred in some way. Each item is revered as "the baby's". The truth of the matter, those things don't actually matter, it's just stuff. What matters is how much I love her and miss her and not what outfit she would have worn. Today was about letting go of stuff, but not letting go of her.
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motherhood. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
The internal 3 year old
I try to have quiet prayer time early in the morning - after my husband goes to work and before anyone else wakes. Most days my little guy wakes up around 6:24 am; the kid has one accurate internal clock. Somedays I'm really lucky and he sleeps until 7:00 am.
Usually when he wakes up he comes and says good morning to me and I walk him back to his room, "It's too early to be up and running around. Nanny and Papa are still sleeping." I also have to add "and don't come out of your room until I come get you." Some mornings he's great and plays in his room, other mornings he's a nut running in and out of his room, calling for me, and my prayer time consists of short bursts of "God help me."
For whatever reason, the other day I told him he could stay with me during my quiet prayer. "You can either lay on the couch quietly or you can sit in my lap." He chose to lay on the couch. After 5 minutes of endless shifting and talking to me, I picked him up and sat him in my lap.
He relaxed as soon as I set him in my lap and snuggled into me. "It's time to be very quiet and still. Mommy's going to pray and you can say your prayers to Jesus." I closed my eyes and listened to him as he whispered his prayers. It was very sweet and I thought, I'm not doing too bad at this Mommy thing.
Then...a small whisper..."Excuse me, Mommy." I decided to keep my eyes closed and try to focus. A small hand reached up and stroked my face accompanied by an emphatic whisper, "Excuse me, Mommy."
I opened my eyes, "Yes, what is it?"
This apparently was an invitation to a waterfall of questions and observations and squirminess. And then it dawned on me...I joke around about having a hamster wheel for a brain, but really, when I pray I'm more like a 3 year old sitting in the lap of the Lord. Constantly chattering, pointing out bright shiny things, asking questions, squirming, daydreaming, all the while trying to be still and present. I couldn't get upset with him because I was too busy laughing at myself.
Finally, the 3 year old in my lap settled down and the 3 year old in my head quieted down. We got 2 solid minutes of stillness and it was a lovely way to start the day.
Usually when he wakes up he comes and says good morning to me and I walk him back to his room, "It's too early to be up and running around. Nanny and Papa are still sleeping." I also have to add "and don't come out of your room until I come get you." Some mornings he's great and plays in his room, other mornings he's a nut running in and out of his room, calling for me, and my prayer time consists of short bursts of "God help me."
For whatever reason, the other day I told him he could stay with me during my quiet prayer. "You can either lay on the couch quietly or you can sit in my lap." He chose to lay on the couch. After 5 minutes of endless shifting and talking to me, I picked him up and sat him in my lap.
He relaxed as soon as I set him in my lap and snuggled into me. "It's time to be very quiet and still. Mommy's going to pray and you can say your prayers to Jesus." I closed my eyes and listened to him as he whispered his prayers. It was very sweet and I thought, I'm not doing too bad at this Mommy thing.
Then...a small whisper..."Excuse me, Mommy." I decided to keep my eyes closed and try to focus. A small hand reached up and stroked my face accompanied by an emphatic whisper, "Excuse me, Mommy."
I opened my eyes, "Yes, what is it?"
This apparently was an invitation to a waterfall of questions and observations and squirminess. And then it dawned on me...I joke around about having a hamster wheel for a brain, but really, when I pray I'm more like a 3 year old sitting in the lap of the Lord. Constantly chattering, pointing out bright shiny things, asking questions, squirming, daydreaming, all the while trying to be still and present. I couldn't get upset with him because I was too busy laughing at myself.
Finally, the 3 year old in my lap settled down and the 3 year old in my head quieted down. We got 2 solid minutes of stillness and it was a lovely way to start the day.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Not appropriate
It's interesting the things I did not notice before I had my very own little person for whom I'm responsible...like kid's movies. I have watched lots kid's movies with my nieces and nephew in the past, but I missed a few things.
My husband and I have been working on building a DVD library of movies and shows we're okay with and that we are okay watching over and over and over again. Last week we added Cars to the mix. I'd seen it years ago, but while my son was watching it I caught a few things I had missed.
I was working on the computer and barely paying attention to the movie when suddenly the word "idiot" snapped my head around. Then, the phrase "hillbilly Hell" was used twice. Huh?! Really? This movie is targeted to my son - who is 3 - his pull-up diapers have Lightening McQueen plastered all over them! I know that he's going to hear these words, but does it have to be in a kid's movie? I want to keep the name calling at bay for all long as possible and I'd rather he never swear.
There are times I feel the desire to simply shield him from everything, but it's hardly possible and probably not healthy. And then I think about trusting in God. I have to trust that the Holy Spirit is helping me in this whole parenting process and I have to trust the Holy Spirit is guiding my son, too.
I guess it's time to hunt down more of the oldies: Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang, and Robin Hood and Lady and the Tramp...
My husband and I have been working on building a DVD library of movies and shows we're okay with and that we are okay watching over and over and over again. Last week we added Cars to the mix. I'd seen it years ago, but while my son was watching it I caught a few things I had missed.
I was working on the computer and barely paying attention to the movie when suddenly the word "idiot" snapped my head around. Then, the phrase "hillbilly Hell" was used twice. Huh?! Really? This movie is targeted to my son - who is 3 - his pull-up diapers have Lightening McQueen plastered all over them! I know that he's going to hear these words, but does it have to be in a kid's movie? I want to keep the name calling at bay for all long as possible and I'd rather he never swear.
There are times I feel the desire to simply shield him from everything, but it's hardly possible and probably not healthy. And then I think about trusting in God. I have to trust that the Holy Spirit is helping me in this whole parenting process and I have to trust the Holy Spirit is guiding my son, too.
I guess it's time to hunt down more of the oldies: Chitty, Chitty, Bang, Bang, and Robin Hood and Lady and the Tramp...
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Questions
"Why Mommy?'
"What's that Mommy?"
"Why Mommy?"
"Who's that guy Mommy?"
"Why Mommy?"
My son is in the stage of asking all kinds of questions, most often, "Why Mommy?" Most of the time, I don't mind the questions, but there are times when they get annoying, like when I'm trying to do something quickly.
Often the questions can be easily answered, "What's that Mommy?" Uh...that's a dump truck, that's a grocery store, that's a cow. Some questions are harder to answer, "Why is that there?" Uh...I don't know, I guess someone left it there. And then, the hardest question to answer, "Why?" Some whys are hard to explain to a three year old.
This morning I was thinking about all the whys my little guy has been asking and how some of the answers are so obvious, but they can't be explained to a three year old. That's when it hit me that my intelligibility of the whole universe is much like a three year old when compared to God's infinite and all-knowing knowing.
The biggest mystery of all is probably the question of suffering and evil. If God is good, then why do bad things happen? It's called the mystery of theodicy. And then the question that follows is why does suffering destroy some people and other people grow stronger from it? I suppose to God the answer to that question is very straight-foward and makes perfect sense but how do you explain that to a three year old?
Perhaps my son has the answer to getting the answer: just keep asking why, why, why until you get an satisfactory answer.
"What's that Mommy?"
"Why Mommy?"
"Who's that guy Mommy?"
"Why Mommy?"
My son is in the stage of asking all kinds of questions, most often, "Why Mommy?" Most of the time, I don't mind the questions, but there are times when they get annoying, like when I'm trying to do something quickly.
Often the questions can be easily answered, "What's that Mommy?" Uh...that's a dump truck, that's a grocery store, that's a cow. Some questions are harder to answer, "Why is that there?" Uh...I don't know, I guess someone left it there. And then, the hardest question to answer, "Why?" Some whys are hard to explain to a three year old.
This morning I was thinking about all the whys my little guy has been asking and how some of the answers are so obvious, but they can't be explained to a three year old. That's when it hit me that my intelligibility of the whole universe is much like a three year old when compared to God's infinite and all-knowing knowing.
The biggest mystery of all is probably the question of suffering and evil. If God is good, then why do bad things happen? It's called the mystery of theodicy. And then the question that follows is why does suffering destroy some people and other people grow stronger from it? I suppose to God the answer to that question is very straight-foward and makes perfect sense but how do you explain that to a three year old?
Perhaps my son has the answer to getting the answer: just keep asking why, why, why until you get an satisfactory answer.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Daylight Saving my eye!
Whoever thought up the not so brilliant idea of Daylight Saving Time didn't not have a toddler!
It has been a rough week around here because my little guy has not adjusted to the time change. For most of the week he woke up around 5 am. There is no way I'm starting the day that early, especially when he is sleep deprived, so I tried to snuggle with him to see if he would fall back to sleep. No deal! This makes for a cranky, whiny toddler and cranky mommy (I try not to whine, too much). Have I mentioned that it's been ugly?
After a week of early rising and untold temper tantrums and more whining than I care to remember, I'm beat. Thanks be to God I have an awesome husband (a nutty morning person) who will happily play with our son tomorrow morning so that I can sleep in a little. I wish I had something theological to offer, but I don't. I hope you can get a little extra sleep this weekend, too.
It has been a rough week around here because my little guy has not adjusted to the time change. For most of the week he woke up around 5 am. There is no way I'm starting the day that early, especially when he is sleep deprived, so I tried to snuggle with him to see if he would fall back to sleep. No deal! This makes for a cranky, whiny toddler and cranky mommy (I try not to whine, too much). Have I mentioned that it's been ugly?
After a week of early rising and untold temper tantrums and more whining than I care to remember, I'm beat. Thanks be to God I have an awesome husband (a nutty morning person) who will happily play with our son tomorrow morning so that I can sleep in a little. I wish I had something theological to offer, but I don't. I hope you can get a little extra sleep this weekend, too.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Blocks of faith
My son is discovering the awesome world of imagination, every item in the house can be turned into something else with an accompanying story. For instance he has a stacking ring set, which is normally a baby toy, the rings are doughnuts and I'm allowed to have one if I've been good. The base and stem can be separated and both of these items are magically transformed into water guns only to be used with the appropriate "shhhhhh" sound to mimic water shooting out.
This morning my son walked over to me with building blocks rigged up to look like a flashlight. "I can't see, Mommy, there's no light." And that reminded me of today's Psalm response: Those who follow you, Lord, will have the light of life (Psalm 1). My son was playing, but his simple comment clicked gears into motion.
Sure, we need actual flashlights on standby in case the lights go out, but relying on anything other than God in life will not lead to eternal life. As St. Paul said in 2 Corinthians 5:7, we live by faith and not by sight.
This morning my son walked over to me with building blocks rigged up to look like a flashlight. "I can't see, Mommy, there's no light." And that reminded me of today's Psalm response: Those who follow you, Lord, will have the light of life (Psalm 1). My son was playing, but his simple comment clicked gears into motion.
Sure, we need actual flashlights on standby in case the lights go out, but relying on anything other than God in life will not lead to eternal life. As St. Paul said in 2 Corinthians 5:7, we live by faith and not by sight.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Three years ago...
Saturday will mark my son's 3rd birthday.
The days leading up to his birth were filled with fear and panic attacks.
The days leading up to his birth were filled with fear and panic attacks.
Fear had been with me the entire pregnancy. My first pregnancy ended in the stillbirth of my son's big sister only 13 1/2 months before. She died at 37 weeks. When I was pregnant with my son I had to count kicks several times a day. Only days before my son was delivered I didn't get any kicks in the morning; I was 37 weeks and 1 day. Terrified, my husband and I drove to the hospital. I kept telling myself, Prepare to hear, 'there is no heartbeat.' Thankfully, there was a heartbeat.
The panic attacks were due to something I didn't discover until the day I found out I had to have a C-section: I'm terrified of surgery. As my bear bottom sat on a freezing cold surgical table while someone was sticking a needle in my spine (which also freaks me out) and I looked at a table filled with medieval torture devices, I prayed the Hail Mary. I said it over and over and over again.
Laying on the operating table I thought, 'It could still go wrong'. I worried my husband and I would drive home from the hospital without a baby in the backseat, again. After several minutes of further preparation, some joking with the doctors, my husband nearly poking my eye out because he was watching the operation, followed by my doctor wrestling with my son, he was finally born and screamed his little head off. Happiness flooded me and I cried, "That's the most beautiful sound in the world." I think any mom (or dad) feels that way when she hear the cries of her child for the first time, but my daughter's birth was silent and all of that pain was transformed into joy at the sound of his cry.
After he underwent the initial battery of tests, the nurse brought him over so I could see him. He was still screaming his head off! I quietly said, "Hi buddy, I'm the Mama." He stopped crying and turned his cubby little face towards me. It was love at first sight!
Today he is mobile and defiant and talks and still screams and he is the most wonderful boy in the world! Happy Birthday, little buddy!
The panic attacks were due to something I didn't discover until the day I found out I had to have a C-section: I'm terrified of surgery. As my bear bottom sat on a freezing cold surgical table while someone was sticking a needle in my spine (which also freaks me out) and I looked at a table filled with medieval torture devices, I prayed the Hail Mary. I said it over and over and over again.
Laying on the operating table I thought, 'It could still go wrong'. I worried my husband and I would drive home from the hospital without a baby in the backseat, again. After several minutes of further preparation, some joking with the doctors, my husband nearly poking my eye out because he was watching the operation, followed by my doctor wrestling with my son, he was finally born and screamed his little head off. Happiness flooded me and I cried, "That's the most beautiful sound in the world." I think any mom (or dad) feels that way when she hear the cries of her child for the first time, but my daughter's birth was silent and all of that pain was transformed into joy at the sound of his cry.
After he underwent the initial battery of tests, the nurse brought him over so I could see him. He was still screaming his head off! I quietly said, "Hi buddy, I'm the Mama." He stopped crying and turned his cubby little face towards me. It was love at first sight!
Today he is mobile and defiant and talks and still screams and he is the most wonderful boy in the world! Happy Birthday, little buddy!
Sunday, September 16, 2012
A Mommy's Work
Oooh geez! It's one of those readings that get Catholics and Protestants going at each other:
James 2:14-18
What good is it, my brothers and sisters,
if someone says he has faith but does not have works?
Can that faith save him?
If a brother or sister has nothing to wear
and has no food for the day,
and one of you says to them,
"Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well, "
but you do not give them the necessities of the body,
what good is it?
So also faith of itself,
if it does not have works, is dead.
Indeed someone might say,
"You have faith and I have works."
Demonstrate your faith to me without works,
and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works.
Saying you have faith won't save you. And, only doing works (without faith) won't save you.
It's the combination of the two. My faith should get me off my butt to serve others. "Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words." I love this quote from St. Francis of Assisi and I think it sums up today's reading well. My life should be a demonstration of my faith. Every moment, every interaction should preach the Gospel to others. It should be, but it's not always.
Each season of life brings new and different opportunities to share faith and works. As a single person I had far more time to give to ministry and to service. As a mom with a young child there are days I don't have time to take a shower, but I have more time now than I did when my son was a baby. While I wish I had the time (and the energy) to do more works of service, it's not possible right now. Sometimes that makes me sad/discouraged because I feel like I'm not serving the Kingdom. However, as parent I need to remember that my first mission field is to the little guy who watches me day in and day out.
The season of life with young children can feel long and monotonous, but this season will pass. The work in this season of the mission is to be an engineer and lay a foundation for my son.
James 2:14-18
What good is it, my brothers and sisters,
if someone says he has faith but does not have works?
Can that faith save him?
If a brother or sister has nothing to wear
and has no food for the day,
and one of you says to them,
"Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well, "
but you do not give them the necessities of the body,
what good is it?
So also faith of itself,
if it does not have works, is dead.
Indeed someone might say,
"You have faith and I have works."
Demonstrate your faith to me without works,
and I will demonstrate my faith to you from my works.
Saying you have faith won't save you. And, only doing works (without faith) won't save you.
It's the combination of the two. My faith should get me off my butt to serve others. "Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words." I love this quote from St. Francis of Assisi and I think it sums up today's reading well. My life should be a demonstration of my faith. Every moment, every interaction should preach the Gospel to others. It should be, but it's not always.
Each season of life brings new and different opportunities to share faith and works. As a single person I had far more time to give to ministry and to service. As a mom with a young child there are days I don't have time to take a shower, but I have more time now than I did when my son was a baby. While I wish I had the time (and the energy) to do more works of service, it's not possible right now. Sometimes that makes me sad/discouraged because I feel like I'm not serving the Kingdom. However, as parent I need to remember that my first mission field is to the little guy who watches me day in and day out.
The season of life with young children can feel long and monotonous, but this season will pass. The work in this season of the mission is to be an engineer and lay a foundation for my son.
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