What groups do we/I belong to? What groups do we/I want to belong to? What groups should we/I try to belong to?
I try to be very conscientious about doing what's best for my children. Because we are a multicultural and multi-ethnic and multilingual family, I have to be intentional about which of the various relevant groups ought to be "ours", and to what degree.
The literature on the best practices for children "of color" (a politically correct phrase for non-white people, but one that my Latino husband dislikes, hence the quotation marks) talks of the importance of immersing children in groups where they can see racial mirrors, find role models, and gain a sense of identity. And I have tried to do just that.
For the past six years, we have tried to make friends by participating in Filipino events. It has been frustrating, as no lasting friendships have emerged from our efforts. I'm shy, so the effort has not come naturally to me. My husband has never met a stranger, so it's actually surprising that his efforts haven't had better results either. Finally I asked my good friend, whose husband is Filipino, for insights. What a relief it was to learn that even he - a Filipino raised by Filipino parents, does not find himself regularly included in Filipino gatherings.
Further insights from an online group I belong to pointed out that ethnic and cultural groups tend to be insular for self-preservation or just to have a safe space where they don't need to be explaining themselves to outsiders. It now makes perfect sense why we, as outsiders, have been unable to "infiltrate" the Filipino groups that have been perfectly friendly on the surface.
It is important to try, try again. It is equally important to know when to let it go. I'm letting it go. Not my intentions to keep exposing my kids to Filipino culture whenever possible, but rather my expectations of it ever getting beyond the level where we are now. And this acceptance is freeing.
Another aspect of raising Brown children is to ensure that they don't feel like they stick out because of their ethnicity or race. In other words, we want to make sure we live and learn and play in areas that are diverse. It doesn't need to be other Filipinos, but it does need to be other Brown people. As long as the White people are used to seeing Brown people and interacting with them and befriending them, then we should not have any problems. But we do not want our kids to be the experimental diversity in otherwise White spaces.
Here, again, I came upon a dilemma. I wanted to do right by my children and move to an area that was more diverse than not. However, the truth of the matter is that this would come at a price. Diversity is not the only value our family has. Nor is it the only priority. We must live in an area relatively close to my husband's work, and close to my parents, who are in need of more assistance as we all get older. My children need ample space to run around, especially since we homeschool, and so our home is our base. We grow food. We try to spend daily time outside. We value privacy and safety. What all of these add up to is a certain sized yard. Fenced, with shade and sunny areas, and room to run and roll around all without worrying about nosy neighbors. And what's more, we need to be able to afford this kind of living arrangement. We decided not to incessantly keep up with the Joneses. We have no intention of upgrading the size of our house, or moving to more "elite" neighborhoods. But we do want to keep a single family house with a fenced yard. And we want to pay it off by the time my husband is ready to retire and our kids are graduated from high school.
And we're not talking about moving to a completely homogenous, secluded area where we can count on being the only mixed family in any given situation. No, we're talking about a less diverse area, close enough to more diverse areas that we can drive there.
Finally, this is an issue for my own sanity. I have been programmed by the anti-racist rhetoric to be very careful to avoid at all costs anything that may be interpreted as whitesplaining, ethnocentricity, or white fragility. I worry about these things even as I am trying to guts up to putting "on paper" what thoughts are going through my mind. See, I was brought up with judgment and comparisons being the norm. I internalized the idea that if I am always judging others in black-or-white terms, then they are likewise judging me. Concepts like giving someone the benefit of the doubt or not taking things excessively personally are seen as having racist undertones when applied to trying to take White experience as equal to that of people of color. I was in an online group that taught me a lot, but at the cost of my own sense of self. The "people of color" in my real life - Latino, Black, Native American, all thought I was in a "cult". They simply did not experience the world in as harsh terms as the group described. The group would retort that they weren't being honest with themselves or with me. But that, indeed, started to sound a bit like indoctrination.
And I recently realized that I have had about enough indoctrination for one lifetime. I am in recovery for codependence. Through 3 years of therapy and recovery work, I've come to see how I have weak boundaries, don't trust myself, depend too heavily on the approval and validation of others, and operate from a general sense of ongoing anxiety. With very few, specific, decisions I've made, mostly dealing with my children, I have no confidence. I oscillate between superiority and inferiority complexes. And so, when it comes to what's best for my children, I am again in a place where I can either take in everything I've learned and then make a decision based on my specific circumstances and those of my children, or I can once again let some "experts" make these decisions for me.
I've had enough of giving over my power. People of color should know all too well what I mean. Just like not all Brown people are alike, or all Black people, or all Asians, etc. the same holds true for White people. We are not all alike. Yes, we all share having White privilege in US society. But aside from this, we are as different as minorities. We have different experiences, values, priorities, intentions, goals all of which must be taken into consideration when making day-to-day decisions. I know I won't find any popular outlet for this perspective, and I don't need it. I only need to admit this to myself, accept myself, trust myself, and make these decisions for myself.
Returning to the initial questions of groups - what groups do we belong to? The Catholic church. Sunday School at OLPH. Our area Catholic homeschooling group. My daughter's gymnastics class. My husband's men's group at church. My husband's job. Celebrate Recovery Meeting for me. Courageous Conversations (temporary group). Multilingual mixed families living in the US. Immigrant families. College graduates. Transracial adoptive (embryo) families. I'm sure there's more.
What groups do we want to belong to? Some sort of ongoing group where we can fellowship over shared values of racial, religious, and LGBTQ affirmation and understanding, as well as the pursuit of socioeconomic and environmental justice. Homeschooling group local to our area. A faith community where we can practice the rituals and traditions that give our spiritual journey meaning. I'd like to return to teaching adults ESL. Honestly, I don't want to belong to any one-race/ethnicity/culture groups. Not my Polish one, not a Filipino one, not a Latino one. Our family is all of these and we operate best when mingling with others who understand what it's like to mix and match, to find commonalities across the differences, and not just to uphold long standing norms in an isolated environment.
While I'm on the subject, I also need to remember that just because we are a multilingual family doesn't mean that we are aiming at 100% native fluency in all three languages. Frankly, my Polish heritage language is the least necessary for my kids to retain. Any language is a boon to the brain, and Polish in particular can make the learning of other Slavic languages easier if my kids ever decide to go that route. But aside from that - their Polish relatives with whom they interact regularly are not monolingual, and we have no intentions for travel back to Poland in the near future. I will be perfectly happy if my kids understand Polish music, movies, magazines, and can pronounce the uniquely Polish sounds if pressed to do so.
As for Spanish, this is a much more useful and ubiquitous language in our society and world. Our kids are likely to come across many people who speak Spanish, even only Spanish, and can easily benefit from knowing the language for both economic advancement and the enjoyment of the culture.
Perhaps we should seek out Spanish-speaking playdates?
Tagalog, what I suppose could be seen as a heritage language based on the kids' Filipino heritage, is similar to Polish in necessity. Unless my kids express an interest in actively learning the language, I won't stress over it. Since we cannot break into Filipino communities in order for the kids to be immersed in this culture anyway, I don't see how learning the language would do any good until they are grown and don't need us to facilitate. And at that point, they can also pick up the language, having already learned other languages previously, thus making language learning as a whole much easier than if they were starting out as monolinguals.
The next entry will deal with the theme of trusting self and resisting external validation, but from the spiritual perspective. (Both religious and secular-scientific.)
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Monday, February 24, 2020
Wednesday, August 15, 2018
When I Considered Religious Life
My senior year of high school, I thought about becoming a nun. I had just read a little book by now Saint Theresa of Kolkata (then and still today known to the world as Mother Theresa). I was young and naive with romanticism about travel, experiencing other cultures, and spending my days in silent contemplation. I had not real idea of what it meant to be a religious sister, much less a missionary abroad. I was certainly confusing that and the life of a contemplative hermit-style nun. Either way, it didn't take long for me to move on to other aspirations after I got discouraged from the idea by my family.
Their reasoning wasn't exactly based on the fact that I had no idea what I was talking about. Rather, it was based on the fact that they didn't want me to live a life of poverty. My grandmother, I remember, mentioned, that if I were a boy and expressed an interest in the priesthood, that'd be different. There were clearly stereotypes about what the various religious lifestyles entail.
In the end, I wasn't being called to the religious life, but I can't really say that I actually discerned this. Rather, in retrospect, after having actually learned more about what it takes to live out such a vocation, I see that God knew me better than I knew myself.
In a nutshell, if I'm being honest, what I wanted was to live free of charge on an eternal spiritual retreat. I have since learned that a) you can't enter a religious order with debt, b) they put you to work, and it may not be what you want to be doing, c) the hours of prayer and contemplation come at the price of sleep and free time; they are not in lieu of the full time work that is expected, and finally, d) that entering a religious order is a calling, not a decision.
This last one actually applies to married life as well, but sadly no one seems to discern if they are called to married life. They just sort of assume that they are, unless something nudges them to the contrary. And that's a shame. Alex and I recently became mentors to engaged couples wishing to be married in the Catholic church. Our first couple has been together for a decade, has lived together for most of that time, and have three kids together. It's probably a bit late in their circumstances to be discerning if married life is what they're being called to.
So with that in mind, I want to raise my kids to keep their options truly open. I don't want them to assume anything. We don't know yet to which vocation God will call them. We want them to stay open to all the possibilities, and this is reflected in our family standards regarding dating. I know first hand how easy it is to "fall in love" as a teenager and then be unable to imagine a life without the significant other. By then it's too late to start considering if God is even calling you to married life or not. I can't imagine having to break up with a steady boyfriend because "it's time to discern" a vocation. Instead, we will discuss the different vocations (religious life, single life, married life) as they're growing up, and allow group dating but no serious steady relationships before age 18.
I got off easy. I used to "blame" my family for discouraging me from pursuing a religious vocation, but now I realize that, had I actually discerned it seriously, I probably would have come to the same conclusion. But you see, then the realization would've been my own, and I would've owned it. I would have been able to know without a doubt that this is what God wants for my life. Instead, I sort of cowered with my metaphorical tail between my legs, playing the victim to my family's lack of support.
Last year at a retreat I met a woman who spoke of the mixed blessing it was to have a daughter join a religious order. Until that moment, I hadn't actually considered it from the parents' perspective. But it didn't change my determination to be sure I give equal opportunity to all the vocations for my kids. After all, married life - even single life - doesn't guarantee that my kids will live close by after they're grown. My daughter, at 4.75 years old, may swear up and down that she always wants to live with me, and I always tell her she's welcome to it, but I can't hold her to it. I may envision a happy multi-generational household like the one I grew up in in Poland, but it is not up to me.
I have grown a lot since considering religious life over twenty years ago. Chief among the maturation process is the understanding of discernment.
Their reasoning wasn't exactly based on the fact that I had no idea what I was talking about. Rather, it was based on the fact that they didn't want me to live a life of poverty. My grandmother, I remember, mentioned, that if I were a boy and expressed an interest in the priesthood, that'd be different. There were clearly stereotypes about what the various religious lifestyles entail.
In the end, I wasn't being called to the religious life, but I can't really say that I actually discerned this. Rather, in retrospect, after having actually learned more about what it takes to live out such a vocation, I see that God knew me better than I knew myself.
In a nutshell, if I'm being honest, what I wanted was to live free of charge on an eternal spiritual retreat. I have since learned that a) you can't enter a religious order with debt, b) they put you to work, and it may not be what you want to be doing, c) the hours of prayer and contemplation come at the price of sleep and free time; they are not in lieu of the full time work that is expected, and finally, d) that entering a religious order is a calling, not a decision.
This last one actually applies to married life as well, but sadly no one seems to discern if they are called to married life. They just sort of assume that they are, unless something nudges them to the contrary. And that's a shame. Alex and I recently became mentors to engaged couples wishing to be married in the Catholic church. Our first couple has been together for a decade, has lived together for most of that time, and have three kids together. It's probably a bit late in their circumstances to be discerning if married life is what they're being called to.
So with that in mind, I want to raise my kids to keep their options truly open. I don't want them to assume anything. We don't know yet to which vocation God will call them. We want them to stay open to all the possibilities, and this is reflected in our family standards regarding dating. I know first hand how easy it is to "fall in love" as a teenager and then be unable to imagine a life without the significant other. By then it's too late to start considering if God is even calling you to married life or not. I can't imagine having to break up with a steady boyfriend because "it's time to discern" a vocation. Instead, we will discuss the different vocations (religious life, single life, married life) as they're growing up, and allow group dating but no serious steady relationships before age 18.
I got off easy. I used to "blame" my family for discouraging me from pursuing a religious vocation, but now I realize that, had I actually discerned it seriously, I probably would have come to the same conclusion. But you see, then the realization would've been my own, and I would've owned it. I would have been able to know without a doubt that this is what God wants for my life. Instead, I sort of cowered with my metaphorical tail between my legs, playing the victim to my family's lack of support.
Last year at a retreat I met a woman who spoke of the mixed blessing it was to have a daughter join a religious order. Until that moment, I hadn't actually considered it from the parents' perspective. But it didn't change my determination to be sure I give equal opportunity to all the vocations for my kids. After all, married life - even single life - doesn't guarantee that my kids will live close by after they're grown. My daughter, at 4.75 years old, may swear up and down that she always wants to live with me, and I always tell her she's welcome to it, but I can't hold her to it. I may envision a happy multi-generational household like the one I grew up in in Poland, but it is not up to me.
I have grown a lot since considering religious life over twenty years ago. Chief among the maturation process is the understanding of discernment.
Thursday, January 11, 2018
Embracing my Inner Homemaker
Who am I? My codependent upbringing handed me an identity that I never questioned. Until now. I'm an American Catholic wife and mother. But what does that mean to me on a daily basis? This is what I will attempt to uncover.
To me, "American" means the sky's the limit. Yes, there are cultural traditions, but I do not feel compelled to be bound by them. Since the United States is not a monolithic society, there are at least four types (if you will) of cultures that are part and parcel of the history of US culture. First of all, that of the various Native American tribes, which sadly remains mostly in the names of various places, both natural and man-made, and very little else. Second, that of the African American slaves, which have had a significant impact on modern-day American culture, starting with music and food, and more recently (relatively speaking), media and sports. Third, that of the original European settlers, which brought with it the language and religious traditions, as well as various socio-political norms that our country is based on. Fourth, that of the vast diversity of more recent immigrants from literally around the world. I cannot possibly fit into a single paragraph the myriad of ways that cultures vastly different from each other have mixed and mingled to form the modern day norms of the United States. Essentially, though, what resulted is a wide range of "normal", with a strong emphasis on the choices of the individual to pick and choose what resonates with them and run with it.
"Catholic" literally means "universal", which is actually a lovely segway from national to religious identity. It's a way of being a Christ-follower, which is what being Catholic means to me; that I aspire to center my life on Christ. I believe the Catholic Church has the closest interpretation of Jesus's message available to us, and I love many things about it: the authority with which it teaches on matters of faith and morals; the traditions of beautiful art and music; the social outreach it is known for (hospitals and schools in particular). I also love the way the Church allows me to approach my Lord in a way I was never able to do in any other worship environment (and over the years I've tried plenty). First and foremost, I am reminded on at least a weekly basis that God loves me so much, that He has come down first in the Incarnation and person of Jesus, and now in the Holy Eucharist. I can not only "taste and see that the Lord is good" (Psalm 34:8) when I receive Him in Holy Communion, but I can also "keep watch with [Him]" (Matthew 26:40) in Adoration.
I am a wife. I am not just "a wife", but "the wife of Oscar". Being a wife is something that by definition ties a person to another, hence we are "one flesh" (Genesis 2:24, 1 Corinthians 6:16). We are of one mind. We make plans together, we share our joys and sorrows together, we raise our children together, we offer each other unconditional friendship and companionship. My #1 go-to person is my husband, and vice-versa. There is no one I feel closer to than him. Without a doubt, he is one of the best gifts God has bestowed on me. So for me to be a wife means to be a life partner to Oscar, with all that this entails.
I am also a mother. This role, too, is by necessity tied to the specific children God has allowed us to raise for His glory. And that precisely is my job as a mother - to raise little saints. To be a saint means to be happy with God forever - who wouldn't want that for one's children, or oneself for that matter? It's quite the undertaking, motherhood. I believe it is my job - our job - to educate our children, to protect them, to prepare them for life, to share the gospel with them, to help them reach their potential in any way I can. I do not buy into the modern-day secular belief that pretty much all of these tasks can be delegated to others. In my mind, doing so leaves the parent with the role of "supervisor", supervising the job that others are doing in regard to their children. Some situations necessitate such an arrangement, and I certainly don't judge those who opt for it. But it is not what I am called to. To me, being a mother *entails* staying home with them and homeschooling them. I wouldn't feel like a mother without these factors in place.
But how do I incorporate these four roles into my daily identity? I believe that God has arranged the circumstances of my life so that I may best attain my potential through homemaking, at least in this current phase of my life. Previously, He had tasked me with teaching English to immigrants and international visa students (I'm not aware of any of my students having had refugee or asylee status). And I can never be certain where He will lead me in the future. But right now - and that's all we can ever truly know and embrace - I am a homemaker. I am tasked with making a home for my family. I am painfully aware of the lack of homes being made, well, homes, in many American households. Rather, the home is taken for granted as merely a place to hang one's hat. With adages such as "home is where your heart is", it is easy to think that "home" simply means "comfort". And while I agree that one's home should most definitely be the place members of the household feel most comfortable, it is so much more than that. It is a place of togetherness, of ongoing learning, of building the smallest segment of society. It is where proper adult roles are learned, and where daily tasks are taught to the next generation. It is where a family becomes more than simply a group of people bound together by blood or by law, but rather a place where a family develops its own family culture and becomes a unit unto itself. None of this happens by happenstance. Someone must be charged with orchestrating the smooth running of the household, ensuring that these various goals are being actively pursued.
The first few times I heard "creative" job descriptions for stay-at-home moms (such as "domestic engineer" or "household CEO"), I chuckled. But it wasn't because I thought it was funny; it was because I felt shamed for not getting a paycheck for what I do. I in no way believed that these creative phrases were meant to value the role of at-home parents. Rather, I felt it was meant as a way to juxtapose terminology one associates with the "working world" with the domestic sphere, as if to prove the utter silliness of there being any true worth in the work done by homemakers. And even though I never doubted that raising one's children full-time was, well, a full-time job, I did reserve some of the same aversion to stay-at-home wives without children at home. Actually, if I'm being honest, I even held a dislike towards stay-at-home moms of older kids who attended school. What do they do all day? - I would ask.
And this is the crux of the situation. I had no concept of what went into "making a home". I mean, I knew there was childcare for those with kids, and some general cooking and cleaning that goes into keeping house. But I viewed it from the perspective of a child. I was given chores as a child. So I didn't see these same tasks, when done by an adult in charge, as anything more. Not only that, but I didn't consider the various chores that simply weren't being done altogether, or at least not nearly as frequently as they ought to be in order to keep a truly welcoming and cozy home for the family.
Now I see so many opportunities in this new role as homemaker. I already mentioned that my husband and I opted to educate our children at home, so "childcare" remains permanently something that we do on a daily basis. And instead of having to manage the feedback of teachers and coaches from afar, trying to inc
There's cooking, too, but as someone who has struggled with a lack of talent for cooking, I can tell you there's a world of difference between, say, ordering food or buying microwaveable meals, and cooking from scratch or even making one's own [hummus, guacamole, jam, bread...] and harvesting ingredients from one's own garden! While both extremes feed the family, there is certainly more time, work, effort, and planning that goes into the latter, and generally more money going into the former. In addition, I'm discovering that meal-planning not only helps to keep a steady variety of food, but it allows for the application of nutritional knowledge to maximize health and vitality, not just satiety.
And as far as cleaning goes... I now have a vision of what I want my family's surroundings to look like. Organized, not cluttered. Bright and airy. Clean. So the chores that go into cleaning the house serve a higher purpose now. I aim for a certain end result. I haven't yet attained it, but at least I have a vision I'm aiming for. And there are so many chores that I don't remember doing, which doesn't mean they weren't being done... plus there are maintenance issues that also escaped my notice as a child. When I first became a mom, I timed myself one week to see just how long it took me to do all the chores I was doing at the time. My efforts amounted to roughly 8 hours - for the week. So based on what I was doing in maintaining a two bedroom apartment, I seemed to have confirmed that being a "housewife" with no kids to keep you occupied was not a full-time endeavor. But now I see that I was simply doing the bare minimum. To truly embrace the role of homemaker, there is always something that can be improved upon, that will keep one busy all week long.
I admit it - in a sense, I am trying to harness my own version of a June Cleaver. I want the feel of something of eras gone by in my home. Of course, I know better than to apply a blanket statement to the effect of "good old days", because I know for everything I wish was still the same as "back then" (and when exactly, that varies), there are things I'm grateful we have moved past. But the American in me gives me the freedom to pick and choose what resonates with me from various eras, and those are the things I'm hoping to embrace in my home.
I am learning to make our house a home. I am learning to be a homemaker. For the sake of my children and husband, but also for my own sake of feeling like my own home is a microcosm of society, I am embracing the role of homemaker. Not some lofty-sounding domestic engineer or CEO of my family - these roles imply professionalism that seems too distant and cold for my taste. But simply - home-maker, maker-of-a-home. What can be more important than making a home for my family, so that they have a literal home base to which they can return from their adventures into the world, a home base where they learn how to treat other people, a home base that serves as a domestic church. This last one is a new concept for me as well, but I'll save that for another time.
To me, "American" means the sky's the limit. Yes, there are cultural traditions, but I do not feel compelled to be bound by them. Since the United States is not a monolithic society, there are at least four types (if you will) of cultures that are part and parcel of the history of US culture. First of all, that of the various Native American tribes, which sadly remains mostly in the names of various places, both natural and man-made, and very little else. Second, that of the African American slaves, which have had a significant impact on modern-day American culture, starting with music and food, and more recently (relatively speaking), media and sports. Third, that of the original European settlers, which brought with it the language and religious traditions, as well as various socio-political norms that our country is based on. Fourth, that of the vast diversity of more recent immigrants from literally around the world. I cannot possibly fit into a single paragraph the myriad of ways that cultures vastly different from each other have mixed and mingled to form the modern day norms of the United States. Essentially, though, what resulted is a wide range of "normal", with a strong emphasis on the choices of the individual to pick and choose what resonates with them and run with it.
"Catholic" literally means "universal", which is actually a lovely segway from national to religious identity. It's a way of being a Christ-follower, which is what being Catholic means to me; that I aspire to center my life on Christ. I believe the Catholic Church has the closest interpretation of Jesus's message available to us, and I love many things about it: the authority with which it teaches on matters of faith and morals; the traditions of beautiful art and music; the social outreach it is known for (hospitals and schools in particular). I also love the way the Church allows me to approach my Lord in a way I was never able to do in any other worship environment (and over the years I've tried plenty). First and foremost, I am reminded on at least a weekly basis that God loves me so much, that He has come down first in the Incarnation and person of Jesus, and now in the Holy Eucharist. I can not only "taste and see that the Lord is good" (Psalm 34:8) when I receive Him in Holy Communion, but I can also "keep watch with [Him]" (Matthew 26:40) in Adoration.
I am a wife. I am not just "a wife", but "the wife of Oscar". Being a wife is something that by definition ties a person to another, hence we are "one flesh" (Genesis 2:24, 1 Corinthians 6:16). We are of one mind. We make plans together, we share our joys and sorrows together, we raise our children together, we offer each other unconditional friendship and companionship. My #1 go-to person is my husband, and vice-versa. There is no one I feel closer to than him. Without a doubt, he is one of the best gifts God has bestowed on me. So for me to be a wife means to be a life partner to Oscar, with all that this entails.
I am also a mother. This role, too, is by necessity tied to the specific children God has allowed us to raise for His glory. And that precisely is my job as a mother - to raise little saints. To be a saint means to be happy with God forever - who wouldn't want that for one's children, or oneself for that matter? It's quite the undertaking, motherhood. I believe it is my job - our job - to educate our children, to protect them, to prepare them for life, to share the gospel with them, to help them reach their potential in any way I can. I do not buy into the modern-day secular belief that pretty much all of these tasks can be delegated to others. In my mind, doing so leaves the parent with the role of "supervisor", supervising the job that others are doing in regard to their children. Some situations necessitate such an arrangement, and I certainly don't judge those who opt for it. But it is not what I am called to. To me, being a mother *entails* staying home with them and homeschooling them. I wouldn't feel like a mother without these factors in place.
But how do I incorporate these four roles into my daily identity? I believe that God has arranged the circumstances of my life so that I may best attain my potential through homemaking, at least in this current phase of my life. Previously, He had tasked me with teaching English to immigrants and international visa students (I'm not aware of any of my students having had refugee or asylee status). And I can never be certain where He will lead me in the future. But right now - and that's all we can ever truly know and embrace - I am a homemaker. I am tasked with making a home for my family. I am painfully aware of the lack of homes being made, well, homes, in many American households. Rather, the home is taken for granted as merely a place to hang one's hat. With adages such as "home is where your heart is", it is easy to think that "home" simply means "comfort". And while I agree that one's home should most definitely be the place members of the household feel most comfortable, it is so much more than that. It is a place of togetherness, of ongoing learning, of building the smallest segment of society. It is where proper adult roles are learned, and where daily tasks are taught to the next generation. It is where a family becomes more than simply a group of people bound together by blood or by law, but rather a place where a family develops its own family culture and becomes a unit unto itself. None of this happens by happenstance. Someone must be charged with orchestrating the smooth running of the household, ensuring that these various goals are being actively pursued.
The first few times I heard "creative" job descriptions for stay-at-home moms (such as "domestic engineer" or "household CEO"), I chuckled. But it wasn't because I thought it was funny; it was because I felt shamed for not getting a paycheck for what I do. I in no way believed that these creative phrases were meant to value the role of at-home parents. Rather, I felt it was meant as a way to juxtapose terminology one associates with the "working world" with the domestic sphere, as if to prove the utter silliness of there being any true worth in the work done by homemakers. And even though I never doubted that raising one's children full-time was, well, a full-time job, I did reserve some of the same aversion to stay-at-home wives without children at home. Actually, if I'm being honest, I even held a dislike towards stay-at-home moms of older kids who attended school. What do they do all day? - I would ask.
And this is the crux of the situation. I had no concept of what went into "making a home". I mean, I knew there was childcare for those with kids, and some general cooking and cleaning that goes into keeping house. But I viewed it from the perspective of a child. I was given chores as a child. So I didn't see these same tasks, when done by an adult in charge, as anything more. Not only that, but I didn't consider the various chores that simply weren't being done altogether, or at least not nearly as frequently as they ought to be in order to keep a truly welcoming and cozy home for the family.
Now I see so many opportunities in this new role as homemaker. I already mentioned that my husband and I opted to educate our children at home, so "childcare" remains permanently something that we do on a daily basis. And instead of having to manage the feedback of teachers and coaches from afar, trying to inc
There's cooking, too, but as someone who has struggled with a lack of talent for cooking, I can tell you there's a world of difference between, say, ordering food or buying microwaveable meals, and cooking from scratch or even making one's own [hummus, guacamole, jam, bread...] and harvesting ingredients from one's own garden! While both extremes feed the family, there is certainly more time, work, effort, and planning that goes into the latter, and generally more money going into the former. In addition, I'm discovering that meal-planning not only helps to keep a steady variety of food, but it allows for the application of nutritional knowledge to maximize health and vitality, not just satiety.
And as far as cleaning goes... I now have a vision of what I want my family's surroundings to look like. Organized, not cluttered. Bright and airy. Clean. So the chores that go into cleaning the house serve a higher purpose now. I aim for a certain end result. I haven't yet attained it, but at least I have a vision I'm aiming for. And there are so many chores that I don't remember doing, which doesn't mean they weren't being done... plus there are maintenance issues that also escaped my notice as a child. When I first became a mom, I timed myself one week to see just how long it took me to do all the chores I was doing at the time. My efforts amounted to roughly 8 hours - for the week. So based on what I was doing in maintaining a two bedroom apartment, I seemed to have confirmed that being a "housewife" with no kids to keep you occupied was not a full-time endeavor. But now I see that I was simply doing the bare minimum. To truly embrace the role of homemaker, there is always something that can be improved upon, that will keep one busy all week long.
I admit it - in a sense, I am trying to harness my own version of a June Cleaver. I want the feel of something of eras gone by in my home. Of course, I know better than to apply a blanket statement to the effect of "good old days", because I know for everything I wish was still the same as "back then" (and when exactly, that varies), there are things I'm grateful we have moved past. But the American in me gives me the freedom to pick and choose what resonates with me from various eras, and those are the things I'm hoping to embrace in my home.
I am learning to make our house a home. I am learning to be a homemaker. For the sake of my children and husband, but also for my own sake of feeling like my own home is a microcosm of society, I am embracing the role of homemaker. Not some lofty-sounding domestic engineer or CEO of my family - these roles imply professionalism that seems too distant and cold for my taste. But simply - home-maker, maker-of-a-home. What can be more important than making a home for my family, so that they have a literal home base to which they can return from their adventures into the world, a home base where they learn how to treat other people, a home base that serves as a domestic church. This last one is a new concept for me as well, but I'll save that for another time.
Monday, May 29, 2017
10 Commandments of Parenting
1. "I am the Lord, thy God. You shall not have other gods before me."
Our children are not the center of the universe, although it may certainly feel like this sometimes, especially in the beginning, especially with your first or only child. You are not only not honoring God if you allow your relationship with your kids to take precedence, but you are also not doing your kids any favors. How can we teach our children to live a Christ-centered life if we place them at the center of our own lives?
2. "Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord in vain."
When speaking about God, show the proper respect. In our family, this meant making a conscious effort to quit talking about Jesus as if He were our buddy. We fell into the trap of "Jesus is my homey" and would refer to him as "J.C." (short for Jesus Christ). When I think about it now, I'm appalled on one hand at the audacity of this practice, and embarassed on the other hand. Once we started to discuss religious topics around our preschooler, it quickly became apparent that we had to stop trying to make Jesus into something He wasn't, and give Him the proper respect He deserves.
3. "Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day."
Take your kids to Mass every Sunday. Teach them how to behave during Mass from the time they are little. I do not like the practice of "kids' church", where the little kids are taken out of the sanctuary to be given an age-appropriate religious lesson on that day's readings. I like the ide of the lesson, and would certainly support it before or after Mass, but Mass is Mass. Our Eucharistic Lord is not present in the religious ed class. In some churches, children are only taken out during the Liturgy of the Word, and brought back in time for the Liturgy of the Eucharist. But even then, there is a disconnect between the flow of the Mass.
Cry rooms, depending on how they are set up and utilized by the faithful, can be both positive and negative. Positive because they allow young babies to be nursed or even have their diaper changed. In churches where there are no cry rooms and a baby needs to be changed, the restroom tends to not have a speaker installed, and so the parent ends up missing part of the Mass that she or he could've still heard if there had been an appropriately set up cry room. That said, some families take the cry room to mean a place to go hang out and let the kids play, rather than a place to still try to teach young kids proper behavior, but allow for more wiggling and noises that are natural to the young child without interrupting the larger congregation.
4. "Honor your mother and your father."
Model by example. Honor your own parents and never speak ill of them in front of your kids. But also, remember that respect is a two-way street. You must respect your child as a human being, if you expect them to learn to respect you in turn. Many parents treat their children as mere dolls, waiting for some magic day when all of a sudden (perhaps as they approach adolescence!) they can be given choices or asked for their opinion. Of course, we are still the parents, but it doesn't mean we can't include our (even young) children in our decision-making process.
5. "Thou shalt not kill."
It is so sad that we live in a world where this has to be said, but here goes. Don't have an abortion. You can sugar coat it all you want, but that little life growing inside you is a human baby, no question about it. There may be secular arguments for why your life is more important than that baby's, but let's not pretend that we're dealing with "a mass of tissue" when you can clearly see movement and hear a heart beating on sonogram. Phew.
That said, more subtle ways to follow this commandment include avoiding lashing out in anger. Don't kill your kids' spirit. Don't crush their dreams. Don't stifle their imagination. Be life-giving in your approach to parenting.
6. "Thou shall not commit adultery."
First, honor your own marital vows. Cheating on one's spouse betrays not only the spouse's trust, but the children's as well. It creates chaos and anxiety and resentment where there should be peace, trust, and comfort.
Also, teach your children about the proper place for sex. Don't treat sex as a taboo subject, as that will only backfire. Sex is good, so long as it's in the correct context. It's your job as parents to teach your kids this fact.
7. "Thou shall not steal."
Don't steal time away from your children. Your job, your hobbies, your social life - none of these ought to be more important than time spent with your children. It may mean taking a pay cut. It may mean passing on a promotion. It may involve some creative lifestyle changes. Also, putting your kids in so many extracurricular activities that they don't have time to relax or spend time with you is also on you.
8. "Thou shall not bear false witness against your neighbor."
I think we can all agree that the broader meaning of "don't lie" applies here. And if we are to not lie to our neighbor, we must realize that our children are included in this category! Don't lie to your kids. I'm not talking about avoiding the subject so as not to ruin a surprise birthday party. I'm talking big stuff. Otherwise honest people may feel perfectly justified in lying outright to their own children. A rather big and obvious example: if you adopted your kids, for instance, they deserve to know the truth. How can you expect to raise honest children if you allow yourself to be dishonest?
9. "Thou shall not covet your neighbor's spouse."
Similar to the sixth commandment, lead by example, but also teach outright. Your children will see if you are flirting with someone or lustfully commenting on a celebrity to a friend. This is a good place to mention modesty of dress, also. I recently heard modesty defined as "humility in a nice, occasion-appropriate outfit." So teach your kids humility (including modesty, as an extension of humility as a whole), both by modeling it and explaining why certain outfits or activities are not allowed in your household. (Unchaperoned co-ed slumber parties at a house with a pool come to mind...)
10. "Thou shall not covet anything else belonging to your neighbor."
In other words, don't entertain envy and jealousy. Don't let your kids hear you comparing yourselves with the proverbial Joneses. And if you hear your kids doing it, nip that in the bud as well. Practice gratitude instead.
Saturday, March 11, 2017
Happy homecoming anniversary, Fernando!
(photos forthcoming)
A year ago, we had our fourth and last embryo transfer. First transfer of two blastocysts on the 11th anniversary of daddy and I meeting, resulted in a week-long pregnancy followed by a chemical loss. Second transfer of two blastocysts, about four months later, resulted in a "BFN" - big fat negative (pregnancy test). Third transfer of two blastocysts from a second batch resulted in our miracle 3 year old daughter, your genetic sister Maya. And our last transfer was also planned for two blastocysts, but only one survived the thaw. That last little embryo was you Fernandito!
Just like with your sister three years earlier, daddy had to wait across the hall while I went in for transfer. My bladder was bursting and I was certain that I would pee on the doctor, for which I wouldn't have felt bad since he made me drink twice the recommended amount of water and then had me wait on the transfer bed. I walked on the wild side this time, and secretly took a photo of myself just before transfer. (What'd you think I was going to say? I videotaped the transfer? I wish! Our first two transfers were videotaped, but alas that's irrelevant to you, I guess.) Luckily this time I wasn't made to lay there for 30 minutes, so I was up and with daddy and Maya in no time.
We had made the whole trip into a family vacation. We visited my brother and his family, Alex's grandpa and some cousins, aunts and uncles, and we managed a quick day trip to the beach the day before transfer. I squeezed in an acupuncture session on the morning of the transfer, just in case it would help. It certainly helped me relax and put me in the right frame of mind, if nothing else.
As we were leaving the hospital after transfer, we had someone take a lovely photo of us - first photo of us as a family of four! I knew that no matter what, this was the last time I was undergoing any sort of fertility treatment, and all that was left was to find out what the good Lord had in mind for the future of our family.
I'm not sure what to think of the embryo that didn't get transferred. All of the other embryos we "adopted" were in my body for however brief a moment in time. I sort of thought of them as little angel companions for each other, especially for my Maya. But Fernando, you were in there all alone. So silly how the mind can weave crazy stories out of nothing.
Your batch of four embryos, I called the Franciscans, after the newly elected Pope Francis. Maya's companion embryo I named Raquelita after my late best friend, Rachel. We called Maya "Dee or Dino", alternating months during the pregnancy, since we weren't finding out her sex until after birth. Your would-be companion embryo I named Francis. We found out you were a boy in mid-pregnancy, at which point we started to think of names. We had decided not to name you the boy names we had prepared three years earlier when expecting Maya. You were not some fantasy but a real boy, our son, and everything had to be reset. Until then, you were a "Franciscan" ;)
I'm going to go ahead and put it out there, though I went back and forth about it.... I started to suspect right after your transfer that you may receive a calling to the priesthood. (Since we're Catholic, this also meant that I suspected you were a boy!) You see, after your sister was born and we moved to a new state, I became distant in my faith for a long time. I had all but given up being able to recapture that sense of spirituality going into your embryo transfer. Literally within days, I felt something spiritual. I cannot explain what it was, because it wasn't anything concrete. I just felt God's presence, I guess. For the first time in years, I felt hope that I may one day truly "be Catholic" again.
I had a terrible first trimester as far as nausea and prenatal depression. It was so bad that I had to request prescription medication, because the ginger root tea that finally helped when I was pregnant with Maya only made things worse this time! I was thinking all sorts of nonesense about my lack of worth and I dreaded the idea of being responsible for two small children. I tried to sleep most of the time to avoid facing these thoughts. But two Sundays in a row, before and after we moved into the house where you were born, the nausea and depression let up, to the point that I felt well enough to pack and move some of our stuff the first time it happened, and to unpack and put some things away the second time it happened.
Because these were Sundays, I again thought this was a sign of a possible religious vocation for you. Whether or not the Lord calls you to the priesthood or not, He clearly called you to help bring me back to the faith! I went on a spiritual retreat while pregnant with you, which helped tremendously in edging me in the right direction (namely, towards God). As I write this, I am in my third week of spiritual direction, and I have started to call Jesus my friend.
In one of your sonograms, you resemble your sister Maya. It is most uncanny, the lip and chin area in particular. With Maya, I didn't think she looked anything like her sonos, but with you, wow! I hope that you and Maya will be very close friends and are able to find comfort in each other's shared journey as donor conceived adoptees. I have been working on locating your genetic family, in case you or Maya ever want more information about your genetic roots. The Lord even put in my life a lady at our church who loves doing geneology and who has been working on your genetic family tree for many months. I was also able to get a little more information from the clinic where your and Maya's embryos were stored, which has been a great joy to me, and I'm hoping it can help us locate your and Maya's three older genetic siblings, if not your donors as well.
So Fernando, thank you for showing me that just when I thought my heart couldn't possibly grow to accomodate loving another child as much as I love Maya, you proved me wrong! My heart has been cloned, and each of you have their own mommy-heart in my chest. I don't know how else to describe it. I love you, and I'm so very happy that you're here and we're all together as a family now!
A year ago, we had our fourth and last embryo transfer. First transfer of two blastocysts on the 11th anniversary of daddy and I meeting, resulted in a week-long pregnancy followed by a chemical loss. Second transfer of two blastocysts, about four months later, resulted in a "BFN" - big fat negative (pregnancy test). Third transfer of two blastocysts from a second batch resulted in our miracle 3 year old daughter, your genetic sister Maya. And our last transfer was also planned for two blastocysts, but only one survived the thaw. That last little embryo was you Fernandito!
Just like with your sister three years earlier, daddy had to wait across the hall while I went in for transfer. My bladder was bursting and I was certain that I would pee on the doctor, for which I wouldn't have felt bad since he made me drink twice the recommended amount of water and then had me wait on the transfer bed. I walked on the wild side this time, and secretly took a photo of myself just before transfer. (What'd you think I was going to say? I videotaped the transfer? I wish! Our first two transfers were videotaped, but alas that's irrelevant to you, I guess.) Luckily this time I wasn't made to lay there for 30 minutes, so I was up and with daddy and Maya in no time.
We had made the whole trip into a family vacation. We visited my brother and his family, Alex's grandpa and some cousins, aunts and uncles, and we managed a quick day trip to the beach the day before transfer. I squeezed in an acupuncture session on the morning of the transfer, just in case it would help. It certainly helped me relax and put me in the right frame of mind, if nothing else.
As we were leaving the hospital after transfer, we had someone take a lovely photo of us - first photo of us as a family of four! I knew that no matter what, this was the last time I was undergoing any sort of fertility treatment, and all that was left was to find out what the good Lord had in mind for the future of our family.
I'm not sure what to think of the embryo that didn't get transferred. All of the other embryos we "adopted" were in my body for however brief a moment in time. I sort of thought of them as little angel companions for each other, especially for my Maya. But Fernando, you were in there all alone. So silly how the mind can weave crazy stories out of nothing.
Your batch of four embryos, I called the Franciscans, after the newly elected Pope Francis. Maya's companion embryo I named Raquelita after my late best friend, Rachel. We called Maya "Dee or Dino", alternating months during the pregnancy, since we weren't finding out her sex until after birth. Your would-be companion embryo I named Francis. We found out you were a boy in mid-pregnancy, at which point we started to think of names. We had decided not to name you the boy names we had prepared three years earlier when expecting Maya. You were not some fantasy but a real boy, our son, and everything had to be reset. Until then, you were a "Franciscan" ;)
I'm going to go ahead and put it out there, though I went back and forth about it.... I started to suspect right after your transfer that you may receive a calling to the priesthood. (Since we're Catholic, this also meant that I suspected you were a boy!) You see, after your sister was born and we moved to a new state, I became distant in my faith for a long time. I had all but given up being able to recapture that sense of spirituality going into your embryo transfer. Literally within days, I felt something spiritual. I cannot explain what it was, because it wasn't anything concrete. I just felt God's presence, I guess. For the first time in years, I felt hope that I may one day truly "be Catholic" again.
I had a terrible first trimester as far as nausea and prenatal depression. It was so bad that I had to request prescription medication, because the ginger root tea that finally helped when I was pregnant with Maya only made things worse this time! I was thinking all sorts of nonesense about my lack of worth and I dreaded the idea of being responsible for two small children. I tried to sleep most of the time to avoid facing these thoughts. But two Sundays in a row, before and after we moved into the house where you were born, the nausea and depression let up, to the point that I felt well enough to pack and move some of our stuff the first time it happened, and to unpack and put some things away the second time it happened.
Because these were Sundays, I again thought this was a sign of a possible religious vocation for you. Whether or not the Lord calls you to the priesthood or not, He clearly called you to help bring me back to the faith! I went on a spiritual retreat while pregnant with you, which helped tremendously in edging me in the right direction (namely, towards God). As I write this, I am in my third week of spiritual direction, and I have started to call Jesus my friend.
In one of your sonograms, you resemble your sister Maya. It is most uncanny, the lip and chin area in particular. With Maya, I didn't think she looked anything like her sonos, but with you, wow! I hope that you and Maya will be very close friends and are able to find comfort in each other's shared journey as donor conceived adoptees. I have been working on locating your genetic family, in case you or Maya ever want more information about your genetic roots. The Lord even put in my life a lady at our church who loves doing geneology and who has been working on your genetic family tree for many months. I was also able to get a little more information from the clinic where your and Maya's embryos were stored, which has been a great joy to me, and I'm hoping it can help us locate your and Maya's three older genetic siblings, if not your donors as well.
So Fernando, thank you for showing me that just when I thought my heart couldn't possibly grow to accomodate loving another child as much as I love Maya, you proved me wrong! My heart has been cloned, and each of you have their own mommy-heart in my chest. I don't know how else to describe it. I love you, and I'm so very happy that you're here and we're all together as a family now!
Sunday, October 30, 2016
How Parenting Has Affected My Faith
I am happy to be returning to this blog with the annoncement that I am, once again, "fully Catholic". That's not to say that there's really such a thing as a "partial Catholic", just that I FEEL Catholic, and that I am actively living a Catholic life, however imperfect, striving for virtue and faith.
It has been a long journey, over two years. Being given several months of clarity to reflect on what went wrong before being launched into the postpartum period again next month, I've been able to determine what went wrong. Why did I lose my faith? What can I do differently this time around?
You see, I pretty much blame postpartum depression/anxiety on my loss of faith. So as I prepare to give birth to baby #2 next month, I worried that any progress I may have made in the interim may be compromised yet again in the postpartum period.
Prior to the birth of Maya, Alex and I were very involved in our church community, had an active prayer life at home, and had overcome several trials of faith. Our prayers had been answered with the blessing of our daughter, and it killed me to be feeling anything but eternal gratitude to God.
Here's what I believe contributed to my postpartum depression/anxiety and the resulting loss of faith.
1. Breastfeeding challenges. Within a week of birth, I suffered nipple damage that resulted in a breast infection (mastisis), breast absceses that needed to be drained twice, and a yeast infection, all of which contributed to my limited milk supply and the heart-wrenching decision to supplement with formula. It took a full two months to resolve our breastfeeding challenges, thanks in huge part to a godsend of a lactation consultant, Angela, and the fact that Maya had a chance to grow a bit, thus resolving the low palate issue that caused the initial nipple damage.
2. Loss of familiar surroundings. Almost as soon as the breastfeeding issues were resolved, we sold our house and moved to be closer to Alex's work. While this was the best decision for our family without any doubt, it did bring about severe stress. For one, the house we spent a decade together, the house where I had just given birth to our daughter, was gone.
3. Loss of a support network. We moved out of state, away from what limited support network I would've otherwise had. I didn't know anyone, friend or relative, and was very isolated home alone with a newborn. As much as I've wanted and enjoyed being home with our daughter, in retrospect I see that I really needed some sort of social outlet to help normalize the situation.
4. Neglect of healthy lifestyle. We resorted to convenience foods, low on the nutritional scale, and certainly didn't think beyond getting sleep whenever possible. There was no thought of exercise, or hydration, or a social life outside the home, or personal development, or couple-time. There was only being "on" with full-on care of our baby, or desperately catching some sleep whenever possible. In my case in particular, sleep is a big necessity. My body requires 8-10 hours of uninterrupted sleep to feel fully refreshed. Needless to say I was not getting any meaningful stretch of uninterrupted sleep, much less the amount my body needs.
The above put me into survival mode. I was just going from day to day, trying to make sure our daughter was safe, fed, clean, repeat. I had completely ignored all other aspects of myself, my identity, my life. I avoided leaving the house, including to church, for the first month or so, finally venturing out for Christmas Vigil mass, because I didn't want germs around my precious baby. So even before we moved, I had distanced myself from the church community that meant so much to me. Somehow, prayer also got lost in the shuffle. There's no other way to describe it: I was in survival mode.
I had ridiculously high expectations of myself and what it meant to me to finally be given the opportunity to parent, to be a mother. That's why our breastfeeding challenges were such a deep blow to me. I couldn't even articulate the disapointment I felt over having to introduce a bottle on day 6 of Mayas life, of having to feed her factory-produced formula that I couldn't vouch for myself.
This muggy mental state that resulted, primarily from sleep deprivation but also from unrecognized stress factors (the move, social isolation, and already feeling like a failure in motherhood) contributed to the onset of my postpartum depression and anxiety. It either didn't kick in until after 6 weeks post-partum, or I didn't realize it was already underway until then. Afterall, I did go to my 2 week and 6 week postpartum visits with my midwife, and they do screen for depression, yet it wasn't flagged at those times. By the time my 6 month postpartum visit came around, I had been to hell and back mentally.
For four months straight, isolated and sleep deprived, I suffered from horrible visual images of worst-case scenarios popping into my mind throughout the day. There didn't seem to be any discernible trigger. If one of our dogs caught my attention, my mind went straight to my baby being attacked by the dog. If I wanted to go sit out on our balcony with baby on my lap, my mind went straight to accidentally tripping and dropping baby over the banister. I know parents worry, but this wasn't worry, this was as if I was having flash-backs of horrible things that actually happened. I imagine post-traumatic stress disorder works in a similar way. There's no reason for the thoughts, they just creep in and take over any sense of logic. I stopped watching crime shows with Alex at this time, and the news, thinking that perhaps the violence there is what subconsciously triggers violent thoughts for me. It's now been over two and a half years since I've been censoring what I view. (And if you knew me, you'd know how much I enjoyed watching shows like Elementary or NCIS with Alex.)
Presumably because my mind was constantly occupied with violent visuals or subconscious fears of another vision episode catching me off guard, I just went about my daily life on auto-pilot. Around four months post-partum, I started being able to incorporate housework into my daily life. I took tons of photos and videos of my precious daugher. I was very keenly aware of the miracle she was in multiple ways. My entire life revolved around doing everything I possibly could to give her the best start in life. I jumped into attachment parenting with both feet first, and only in retrospect have I realized that I completely ignored one of the principles of AP: balance. I did not seek to balance my daughter's needs with mine at all.
Most of our parenting decisions I continue to stand by, even though outsiders may think they contributed to my sense of overwhelm. However, I definitely went overboard with a few, and this is where hope enters in. Having recognized that I did not do Maya any favors by neglecting my own mental health, I intend to be vigilent and proactive about my own mental state with her baby brother.
First of all, I do not have to worry about moving or social isolation this time around, which already gives me a sense of ease. We are settled into our new house and I've made friends locally. As for breastfeeding, I cannot predict if we'll also struggle or not, but I know now to immediately seek out a lactation consultant if need be, and we know of one through our church. We have develped a bit of a sense of community at our new church, and my faith has returned to a good working place. I know that there are a few things I have to keep at the forefront of my mind in order to avoid slipping back into mental chaos.
Daily prayer.
Weekly Mass attendance.
Monthly Confession.
Regular visits with friends (most likely playdates)
Regular alone time while kids enjoy daddy-and-me time (we started this with Maya)
Daily exercise: family walk or yoga while the kids play or dancing with the kids
Weekly one-on-one connection with each child (while Maya is having daddy-and-me time, baby brother is having mommy-and-me time, and vice versa)
Every few months, Alex and I need to find a way to connect just the two of us. (We don't require frequent date nights, as the past three years have proven. We are happy to take Maya with us when we go out to eat, and that is always a nice treat with no need to worry about childcare. Also, car trips usually allow for adult conversations, though lately our little jibber-jabber has been struggling with giving us our own conversation time.)
Annual spiritual retreat. I don't know if we'll be ready when baby brother is only 8 or 9 months old, as the annual women's retreat through our church is in August. It will all depend on his sleep and nursing.
Which actually brings me to the Balance aspect of attachment parenting, and how I hope it will contribute to a saner post-partum period and baby/toddler years. I did not hold anything back when it came to breastfeeding and cosleeping. What's more, I took it upon myself to practice elimination communication, which was great during the daytime, and Alex and I both agree that it was worth the effort (Maya has been diaper-free since 18 months, completely out of pull ups for backup on outings since 2.5, mostly bc we finally got up the courage to trust her.)
I was able to reestablish exclusive breastfeeding for three months before solids entered the picture with Maya, and I wanted to make up for the formula I had to feed her in the first three months of her life. I still intend to breastfeed on cue, however - especially if we are spared the trauma we went through with Maya - I now know that you can, indeed mix breast with bottle without any dire consequences (something I feared the first time around but was forced to find out was unwarranted), and so perhaps we can have some night feedings done by daddy with pumped milk, and if so, I may very well be able to attend next year's spiritual retreat.
Sleep. Sweet sleep. I simply cannot provide the same environment to my second baby as I did to my first, as that would involve neglecting my older child. I cannot be of any use to either of them sleep-deprived, and so I will be more strict in this sense. I do not adhere to crying it out. I do not believe in "sleep training" per se. However, I do now recognize that just because a baby cries doesn't mean I'm doing something wrong. I simply did not want to hear my daughter cry, and that was a mistake. With my son, I will take a different approach.
For starters, since we saw how successful it was for us to watch our daughter for signs of needing to use the potty, and how that enabled us to keep from teaching her to go in the diaper, then why can't we apply the same approach to sleep? Basically, we will watch him for signs of sleepiness, and place him in his bassinet to fall asleep there. I won't make it a habit of letting him fall asleep at the breast every time, even though I know it's only natural that he'll get drowsy nursing. I won't just drop him off and leave the room, either. But I want him to learn that sleep is something that he can do on his own, if still in the viscinity of loved ones. I don't see why I didn't do this with Maya. I kept a meticulous log of the times she ate, slept, eliminated! I could've easily looked back to see when I should be encouraging sleep by placing her down instead of letting her get used to falling asleep in our arms, especially at my breast. I will be keeping a log with baby brother too, so after the first week or two, I will look back to see if a rough "schedule" could be drafted for his sleep times. (I do shutter at the word "schedule" on one hand, but on the other hand, I know that limits allow freedom, both for me and the kids, so I just need to view it as something we do in moderation, but that we do do.)
And as for elimination communication, we will definitely do it again, but I will definitely not deprive myself of further sleep in order to be putting him on the potty in the middle of the night when he's still peeing multiple times at night! (I did this with Maya, and had to take a break at 10 months to save my sanity. Lo and behold, when I returned to it a few months later, I noticed she was able to hold her urine all night, and she actually started staying dry at night before daytime dryness.) So we will defintiely take him to the potty during the day when at home, but we will definitely not stress about him wearing diapers on outings, and I won't be getting up at night to put him on the potty for the first year. If I'm up anyway, to nurse him or change a diaper, then of course might as well sit him on the potty. But I need to stop waking up at every little sound and movement my cosleeping baby makes! If he pees in his diaper at night, so be it. The trade off is a happier, better rested mama. I'm sorry, but my Eco-Idol needs to go. I do now think that sanity is worth a diaper in the landfill (since I'd want disposables at night to minimize discomfort and thus wake-ups; cloth during the day for sure! I'm not planning on worrying about accidents left and right either by letting him go diaper-free before his skills have been tested.)
So with those three parenting adjustments, the different set of circumstances in our living situation, and my conscious decision to maintain a balance in my own well-being, I hope to keep post-partum depression/anxiety at bay, and by extension, keep my faith growing and going in the right direction.
This post started out being about the state of my faith, but I think the practical analysis will prove to be more helpful in its application. Bottom line, I do not want to lose my faith again. I am choosing to remain Catholic. I am choosing to believe in the fundementals of Catholicism. I am choosing to focus on those areas of Catholic faith and spirituality that nurture my desire for holiness and virtue. I am choosing to ignore those areas of faith that create in me any sense of doubt, skepticism, or temptation to "use my intellect or reason".
God exists. God created me. God loves me. Death is a mere transition to a more complete state of being with God. These things I know and believe with every fiber of my being, and these are the things I want to nurture from a uniquely Catholic perspective, because why not? Catholicism is my heritage, it's a beautiful religion, and it makes no difference that others may find exactly the same thing in another tradition. To each their own. Catholicism is for me.
It has been a long journey, over two years. Being given several months of clarity to reflect on what went wrong before being launched into the postpartum period again next month, I've been able to determine what went wrong. Why did I lose my faith? What can I do differently this time around?
You see, I pretty much blame postpartum depression/anxiety on my loss of faith. So as I prepare to give birth to baby #2 next month, I worried that any progress I may have made in the interim may be compromised yet again in the postpartum period.
Prior to the birth of Maya, Alex and I were very involved in our church community, had an active prayer life at home, and had overcome several trials of faith. Our prayers had been answered with the blessing of our daughter, and it killed me to be feeling anything but eternal gratitude to God.
Here's what I believe contributed to my postpartum depression/anxiety and the resulting loss of faith.
1. Breastfeeding challenges. Within a week of birth, I suffered nipple damage that resulted in a breast infection (mastisis), breast absceses that needed to be drained twice, and a yeast infection, all of which contributed to my limited milk supply and the heart-wrenching decision to supplement with formula. It took a full two months to resolve our breastfeeding challenges, thanks in huge part to a godsend of a lactation consultant, Angela, and the fact that Maya had a chance to grow a bit, thus resolving the low palate issue that caused the initial nipple damage.
2. Loss of familiar surroundings. Almost as soon as the breastfeeding issues were resolved, we sold our house and moved to be closer to Alex's work. While this was the best decision for our family without any doubt, it did bring about severe stress. For one, the house we spent a decade together, the house where I had just given birth to our daughter, was gone.
3. Loss of a support network. We moved out of state, away from what limited support network I would've otherwise had. I didn't know anyone, friend or relative, and was very isolated home alone with a newborn. As much as I've wanted and enjoyed being home with our daughter, in retrospect I see that I really needed some sort of social outlet to help normalize the situation.
4. Neglect of healthy lifestyle. We resorted to convenience foods, low on the nutritional scale, and certainly didn't think beyond getting sleep whenever possible. There was no thought of exercise, or hydration, or a social life outside the home, or personal development, or couple-time. There was only being "on" with full-on care of our baby, or desperately catching some sleep whenever possible. In my case in particular, sleep is a big necessity. My body requires 8-10 hours of uninterrupted sleep to feel fully refreshed. Needless to say I was not getting any meaningful stretch of uninterrupted sleep, much less the amount my body needs.
The above put me into survival mode. I was just going from day to day, trying to make sure our daughter was safe, fed, clean, repeat. I had completely ignored all other aspects of myself, my identity, my life. I avoided leaving the house, including to church, for the first month or so, finally venturing out for Christmas Vigil mass, because I didn't want germs around my precious baby. So even before we moved, I had distanced myself from the church community that meant so much to me. Somehow, prayer also got lost in the shuffle. There's no other way to describe it: I was in survival mode.
I had ridiculously high expectations of myself and what it meant to me to finally be given the opportunity to parent, to be a mother. That's why our breastfeeding challenges were such a deep blow to me. I couldn't even articulate the disapointment I felt over having to introduce a bottle on day 6 of Mayas life, of having to feed her factory-produced formula that I couldn't vouch for myself.
This muggy mental state that resulted, primarily from sleep deprivation but also from unrecognized stress factors (the move, social isolation, and already feeling like a failure in motherhood) contributed to the onset of my postpartum depression and anxiety. It either didn't kick in until after 6 weeks post-partum, or I didn't realize it was already underway until then. Afterall, I did go to my 2 week and 6 week postpartum visits with my midwife, and they do screen for depression, yet it wasn't flagged at those times. By the time my 6 month postpartum visit came around, I had been to hell and back mentally.
For four months straight, isolated and sleep deprived, I suffered from horrible visual images of worst-case scenarios popping into my mind throughout the day. There didn't seem to be any discernible trigger. If one of our dogs caught my attention, my mind went straight to my baby being attacked by the dog. If I wanted to go sit out on our balcony with baby on my lap, my mind went straight to accidentally tripping and dropping baby over the banister. I know parents worry, but this wasn't worry, this was as if I was having flash-backs of horrible things that actually happened. I imagine post-traumatic stress disorder works in a similar way. There's no reason for the thoughts, they just creep in and take over any sense of logic. I stopped watching crime shows with Alex at this time, and the news, thinking that perhaps the violence there is what subconsciously triggers violent thoughts for me. It's now been over two and a half years since I've been censoring what I view. (And if you knew me, you'd know how much I enjoyed watching shows like Elementary or NCIS with Alex.)
Presumably because my mind was constantly occupied with violent visuals or subconscious fears of another vision episode catching me off guard, I just went about my daily life on auto-pilot. Around four months post-partum, I started being able to incorporate housework into my daily life. I took tons of photos and videos of my precious daugher. I was very keenly aware of the miracle she was in multiple ways. My entire life revolved around doing everything I possibly could to give her the best start in life. I jumped into attachment parenting with both feet first, and only in retrospect have I realized that I completely ignored one of the principles of AP: balance. I did not seek to balance my daughter's needs with mine at all.
Most of our parenting decisions I continue to stand by, even though outsiders may think they contributed to my sense of overwhelm. However, I definitely went overboard with a few, and this is where hope enters in. Having recognized that I did not do Maya any favors by neglecting my own mental health, I intend to be vigilent and proactive about my own mental state with her baby brother.
First of all, I do not have to worry about moving or social isolation this time around, which already gives me a sense of ease. We are settled into our new house and I've made friends locally. As for breastfeeding, I cannot predict if we'll also struggle or not, but I know now to immediately seek out a lactation consultant if need be, and we know of one through our church. We have develped a bit of a sense of community at our new church, and my faith has returned to a good working place. I know that there are a few things I have to keep at the forefront of my mind in order to avoid slipping back into mental chaos.
Daily prayer.
Weekly Mass attendance.
Monthly Confession.
Regular visits with friends (most likely playdates)
Regular alone time while kids enjoy daddy-and-me time (we started this with Maya)
Daily exercise: family walk or yoga while the kids play or dancing with the kids
Weekly one-on-one connection with each child (while Maya is having daddy-and-me time, baby brother is having mommy-and-me time, and vice versa)
Every few months, Alex and I need to find a way to connect just the two of us. (We don't require frequent date nights, as the past three years have proven. We are happy to take Maya with us when we go out to eat, and that is always a nice treat with no need to worry about childcare. Also, car trips usually allow for adult conversations, though lately our little jibber-jabber has been struggling with giving us our own conversation time.)
Annual spiritual retreat. I don't know if we'll be ready when baby brother is only 8 or 9 months old, as the annual women's retreat through our church is in August. It will all depend on his sleep and nursing.
Which actually brings me to the Balance aspect of attachment parenting, and how I hope it will contribute to a saner post-partum period and baby/toddler years. I did not hold anything back when it came to breastfeeding and cosleeping. What's more, I took it upon myself to practice elimination communication, which was great during the daytime, and Alex and I both agree that it was worth the effort (Maya has been diaper-free since 18 months, completely out of pull ups for backup on outings since 2.5, mostly bc we finally got up the courage to trust her.)
I was able to reestablish exclusive breastfeeding for three months before solids entered the picture with Maya, and I wanted to make up for the formula I had to feed her in the first three months of her life. I still intend to breastfeed on cue, however - especially if we are spared the trauma we went through with Maya - I now know that you can, indeed mix breast with bottle without any dire consequences (something I feared the first time around but was forced to find out was unwarranted), and so perhaps we can have some night feedings done by daddy with pumped milk, and if so, I may very well be able to attend next year's spiritual retreat.
Sleep. Sweet sleep. I simply cannot provide the same environment to my second baby as I did to my first, as that would involve neglecting my older child. I cannot be of any use to either of them sleep-deprived, and so I will be more strict in this sense. I do not adhere to crying it out. I do not believe in "sleep training" per se. However, I do now recognize that just because a baby cries doesn't mean I'm doing something wrong. I simply did not want to hear my daughter cry, and that was a mistake. With my son, I will take a different approach.
For starters, since we saw how successful it was for us to watch our daughter for signs of needing to use the potty, and how that enabled us to keep from teaching her to go in the diaper, then why can't we apply the same approach to sleep? Basically, we will watch him for signs of sleepiness, and place him in his bassinet to fall asleep there. I won't make it a habit of letting him fall asleep at the breast every time, even though I know it's only natural that he'll get drowsy nursing. I won't just drop him off and leave the room, either. But I want him to learn that sleep is something that he can do on his own, if still in the viscinity of loved ones. I don't see why I didn't do this with Maya. I kept a meticulous log of the times she ate, slept, eliminated! I could've easily looked back to see when I should be encouraging sleep by placing her down instead of letting her get used to falling asleep in our arms, especially at my breast. I will be keeping a log with baby brother too, so after the first week or two, I will look back to see if a rough "schedule" could be drafted for his sleep times. (I do shutter at the word "schedule" on one hand, but on the other hand, I know that limits allow freedom, both for me and the kids, so I just need to view it as something we do in moderation, but that we do do.)
And as for elimination communication, we will definitely do it again, but I will definitely not deprive myself of further sleep in order to be putting him on the potty in the middle of the night when he's still peeing multiple times at night! (I did this with Maya, and had to take a break at 10 months to save my sanity. Lo and behold, when I returned to it a few months later, I noticed she was able to hold her urine all night, and she actually started staying dry at night before daytime dryness.) So we will defintiely take him to the potty during the day when at home, but we will definitely not stress about him wearing diapers on outings, and I won't be getting up at night to put him on the potty for the first year. If I'm up anyway, to nurse him or change a diaper, then of course might as well sit him on the potty. But I need to stop waking up at every little sound and movement my cosleeping baby makes! If he pees in his diaper at night, so be it. The trade off is a happier, better rested mama. I'm sorry, but my Eco-Idol needs to go. I do now think that sanity is worth a diaper in the landfill (since I'd want disposables at night to minimize discomfort and thus wake-ups; cloth during the day for sure! I'm not planning on worrying about accidents left and right either by letting him go diaper-free before his skills have been tested.)
So with those three parenting adjustments, the different set of circumstances in our living situation, and my conscious decision to maintain a balance in my own well-being, I hope to keep post-partum depression/anxiety at bay, and by extension, keep my faith growing and going in the right direction.
This post started out being about the state of my faith, but I think the practical analysis will prove to be more helpful in its application. Bottom line, I do not want to lose my faith again. I am choosing to remain Catholic. I am choosing to believe in the fundementals of Catholicism. I am choosing to focus on those areas of Catholic faith and spirituality that nurture my desire for holiness and virtue. I am choosing to ignore those areas of faith that create in me any sense of doubt, skepticism, or temptation to "use my intellect or reason".
God exists. God created me. God loves me. Death is a mere transition to a more complete state of being with God. These things I know and believe with every fiber of my being, and these are the things I want to nurture from a uniquely Catholic perspective, because why not? Catholicism is my heritage, it's a beautiful religion, and it makes no difference that others may find exactly the same thing in another tradition. To each their own. Catholicism is for me.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
A Desire to Belong
I was watching some YouTube videos about the multiracial experience, and I was struck by how people can identify with a race or ethnicity that isn't obviously evident in their physical appearance. It was also interesting to hear that when multiracial people are perceived as "ethnically ambiguous", perfect strangers stare and ask stupid questions that they wouldn't ask "just white" people. The take away I got was that no matter how hard they try, no matter which "side" they try to fit in with, multiracial people run the very real risk of being told they don't belong.
I then searched for more specific videos about Filipino Americans, and again I was struck by the amount of animosity between so-called "FOBs" (fresh off the boat, ie. newly arrived Filipino immigrants) and "Fil-Ams" (Filipino-Americans, or those who have undergone some level of Americanization). While the videos about multiracial people focused a lot on physical appearance as an obstacle to belonging in both races (or the race one predominantly identifies with), the Filipino videos focused on the ability to speak Tagalog without a particular accent, and other cultural traditions, values, and choices that are considered more or less in line with "real" Filipinos.
I remember how, for years, I tried to fit into what was supposed to be my rightful ethnic identity - Polish. In spite of never forgetting the language, in spite of being able to read and write it, in spite of "looking Polish", I never felt accepted by any Polish community or group once I emigrated. And on the flip side, perhaps due to my own desire to distance myself from mainstream America, I never felt a part of American society either. Even though it has been nearly 30 years since I first arrived in the United States, I continue to identify as an immigrant. There are still values and traditions that I have kept from my culture of origin, and there are values and traditions that I have accepted from my adopted country. I am both, Polish and American, but I wouldn't say that I "belong" in the full sense of the word to either.
So then I think about my daughter and the various cultural identities that she has a birthright to. I think about how I've been worrying myself sick trying to figure out the best way to help her have a shot at claiming the various identities. But today I realized that I've been focusing on the wrong approach. I've accepted society's definition of identity, race, culture, and its priority of such a label. I've accepted the - granted, very human - desire to belong as a given. But there is something far deeper that I think I can offer my daughter instead of teaching her how to fall in line with other people's expectations. The truth is that no matter how hard she tries, no matter how skilled she becomes, there will be members of any given group that will find a reason to try to exclude her, make her feel like an outsider.
Her Polish may be perfect, but she doesn't "look Polish". She may "look Filipino" but her Tagalog may be limited, along with her cultural knowledge, having not grown up in a Filipino household. And while she has different white influence in both her upbringing (me, Polish) and DNA (one of her donors is British), no one would mistake her for "just white". At first I thought she probably has the best chance of belonging in the Hispanic community. She will grow up speaking Spanish and her coloring is the same as that of a lot of Latinos. But Maya's looks have already been commented on by two Latinas - one asked Alex (her Latino dad) if his wife was Chinese, and another used a nickname ("chinita") to describe her.
So while I'm not going to pretend that we live in a post-racial society or that it's easy to ignore one's desire to know where one fits in, I also want to make it a point to help my daughter have a spiritual identity, something beyond physical and cultural boundaries. And of course, I will have to lead by example. No longer caring about if I am accepted by Poles, Americans, Catholics, or anyone else. I am me. I am.
I then searched for more specific videos about Filipino Americans, and again I was struck by the amount of animosity between so-called "FOBs" (fresh off the boat, ie. newly arrived Filipino immigrants) and "Fil-Ams" (Filipino-Americans, or those who have undergone some level of Americanization). While the videos about multiracial people focused a lot on physical appearance as an obstacle to belonging in both races (or the race one predominantly identifies with), the Filipino videos focused on the ability to speak Tagalog without a particular accent, and other cultural traditions, values, and choices that are considered more or less in line with "real" Filipinos.
I remember how, for years, I tried to fit into what was supposed to be my rightful ethnic identity - Polish. In spite of never forgetting the language, in spite of being able to read and write it, in spite of "looking Polish", I never felt accepted by any Polish community or group once I emigrated. And on the flip side, perhaps due to my own desire to distance myself from mainstream America, I never felt a part of American society either. Even though it has been nearly 30 years since I first arrived in the United States, I continue to identify as an immigrant. There are still values and traditions that I have kept from my culture of origin, and there are values and traditions that I have accepted from my adopted country. I am both, Polish and American, but I wouldn't say that I "belong" in the full sense of the word to either.
So then I think about my daughter and the various cultural identities that she has a birthright to. I think about how I've been worrying myself sick trying to figure out the best way to help her have a shot at claiming the various identities. But today I realized that I've been focusing on the wrong approach. I've accepted society's definition of identity, race, culture, and its priority of such a label. I've accepted the - granted, very human - desire to belong as a given. But there is something far deeper that I think I can offer my daughter instead of teaching her how to fall in line with other people's expectations. The truth is that no matter how hard she tries, no matter how skilled she becomes, there will be members of any given group that will find a reason to try to exclude her, make her feel like an outsider.
Her Polish may be perfect, but she doesn't "look Polish". She may "look Filipino" but her Tagalog may be limited, along with her cultural knowledge, having not grown up in a Filipino household. And while she has different white influence in both her upbringing (me, Polish) and DNA (one of her donors is British), no one would mistake her for "just white". At first I thought she probably has the best chance of belonging in the Hispanic community. She will grow up speaking Spanish and her coloring is the same as that of a lot of Latinos. But Maya's looks have already been commented on by two Latinas - one asked Alex (her Latino dad) if his wife was Chinese, and another used a nickname ("chinita") to describe her.
So while I'm not going to pretend that we live in a post-racial society or that it's easy to ignore one's desire to know where one fits in, I also want to make it a point to help my daughter have a spiritual identity, something beyond physical and cultural boundaries. And of course, I will have to lead by example. No longer caring about if I am accepted by Poles, Americans, Catholics, or anyone else. I am me. I am.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
A Religious Rock and a Spiritual Hard Place
In my search for "the perfect place of worship", I've come to realize that I cannot make peace between my desire for a racially diverse community and, well, all the other things that are important to me. Racial diversity among religions tends to be the result of a long-standing tradition with missionary work.
Seventh Day Adventists, Muslims, and Jehovah's Witnesses top the chart of most diverse religions in the US, each having a significant demographic of at least three different heritages (white, Black, Latino; white, Black, Asian; and white, Black, Latino, respectively). Catholicism ranks just a bit below these, right around the general adult US population, but mostly divided between whites and Latinos. As can be expected, the actual demographics of any particular congregation will be determined by the overall diversity of the region of the country.
And the faiths I find most resonant with my personal belief-system - Quakers and Unitarian Universalists - rank quite low on the diversity scale, both being overwhelmingly white. (The site above doesn't list Quakers, but from other research and my personal experience, I have found this to be true.)
In no particular order, here is a list of characteristics that I would love to find in a spiritual home community.
Racial and ethnic diversity
LGBTQ rights and feminism
Environmentalism
Pro-Life post-implantation
Inclusivity of Freethinkers
Access to religious service while traveling and geographically local
Meaningful ritual
A Sense of community, especially via small groups
Children's program for religious education
Uplifting music
Beautiful art and architecture
Inspiring sermons
Social justice, including racial justice
Bottom line, the spiritual home I envision and have been searching for simply does not exist. Therefore, I must prioritize the above and choose accordingly. Nothing is standing in the way of me attending more than one place of worship on a regular basis. In fact, I already know that this will happen because I have a birthright to Catholicism and a vested interest in Catholicism for the sake of maintaining a cultural link to my daughter's Filipino heritage. That said, my personal spirituality is no longer being nourished in the Catholic church, so I must look elsewhere.
Below is how I would divide the aspects of a religious community that I am looking for.
CATHOLIC
+ Due to universal missions, racial and ethnic diversity is greater than in many other religions.
+ For the same reason, I can count on finding a Catholic mass being celebrated pretty much wherever I travel. Including local to where I live.
+ The ritual is meaningful for me due to my upbringing.
+? In older churches in particular, beautiful art and architecture are part of the landscape.
+? As for social justice, there is some of that in the Church's stance on immigration, and definitely in terms of poverty, but lacking in terms of the racial component.
? The music and sermons are hit-and-miss, dependent on individual churches, much like the art and architecture. I've been to some very inspiring churches and some very abysmal ones.
? The Franciscan tradition does take an active interest in environmental issues, but there isn't nearly enough support or interest in these issues church-wide. I've only ever been to one church that bothered to recycle, and it was a Franciscan parish that was also getting certified by GreenFaith.
? And while I have long agreed with the Pro-Life stance of the Catholic church when it comes to abortion, even the death penalty, I disagree with the way it has been expanded to include restrictions on birth control and fertility treatments.
NON-CATHOLIC
I realize this will need to be specific to the religious community I am considering. Liberal Quakers and Unitarian Universalists are on my horizon currently. I've attended services in both traditions, but what will make a difference is the specific places of worship that are local to me.
At least these four tend to be a given in both traditions:
+ LBBTQ rights and feminism
+ Environmentalism
+ Inclusivity of Freethinkers
+ Social justice, including racial justice
Very likely are also these three points:
+? A Sense of community, especially via small groups
+? Children's program for religious education
+? Geographically local
The rest of these will need to be analyzed on a case-by-case basis
Uplifting music. I've only been to one unprogrammed (liberal) Quaker meeting where they had music, and it can hardly be said to be "uplifting". I have better chances of hearing inspiring music at my own Catholic church. Unprogrammed meetings do not tend to include music, period.
Beautiful art and architecture. Part of the value-system of Quakerism is simplicity, and so generally speaking, the meethinghouses are not meant to inspire and uplift but to be humble and non-distracting.
Inspiring sermons. Again, unprogrammed Quaker meetings do not have prepared sermons. There may be spoken testimony by anyone present.... or there may not be. In that sense, it's a very individual-based worship service.
Overall, what I remember liking about Quaker faith were the values and beliefs as well as social justice outreach - all things that I can easily carry with me into the UU church. But three things I definitely have a better chance finding inside the UU church are sermons, music, and art/architecture. Perhaps the music won't be gregorian chant or gospel music - two of my favorite styles of religious music. And the art and architecture found in old Catholic and Orthodox churches would be hard to find elsewhere. But at least I can hope to glean some insights relevant to my spiritual walk from the sermons, since I know they won't be based on the assumption of original sin.
And the aspects of UU churches that I remember not really jiving with me were the service not being particularly meaningful because of lack of the ritual familiar to me, as well as no objection to abortion. What it is coming down to is a matter of prioritizing. So here goes.
Most important in a potential spiritual community for me:
1. A Sense of community, especially via small groups (the ability to get to know a manageable group of like-minded individuals where I can express my spiritual beliefs and gain insights without fear of judgment or the expectation of conformity)
2. LGBTQ rights and feminism (I need to qualify that by feminism I do not mean what has become of modern feminists, where essentially women think they should be able to get away with abortion on demand in the name of "equal rights" [um, because men do have access to abortion-on-demand??], or where women who chose to dress modestly or stay home with their children in lieu of a career are seen as enemies of the movement. As for LGBTQ, for a long time now I have been a sympathizer with LGBTQ rights to equal treatment under the law, and nothing short of that is acceptable to me, no matter the archaic scriptural reasoning.)
3. Environmentalism. (I've been accused of being un-Christian, back when I identified as Christian, for my concern and focus on green issues. I kid you not. Disgusting to think that God cares more about the afterlife than the life we are living right now.)
4. Social Justice, including racial justice. (After getting hung up on the racial/ethnic diversity aspect, I now realize that who the members are is one thing, but providing meaningful support to those of all backgrounds, even those who are not members of one's church, is another. [Yes, a diverse demographic would be better able to provide racial mirrors for my daughter. But that's why I intend to continue with Catholic Filipino mass. My commitment to helping her build a healthy self-identity cannot be outsourced to an activity we do once a month though, and once a week would be no better. From the Filipino mass, I need to branch out into the various events and make meaningful friendships for the sake of my daughter.] Equally important is to actually work towards peace and justice in the world.)
5. Inclusivity of Freethinkers. (This is essentially the reason my spirituality cannot be contained by the Catholic identity.)
6. Inspiring sermons. (While I like to think that I think for myself, I also enjoy learning from others whose experiences and knowledge surpass my own.)
7. Children's program for religious education. (How I want to raise my daughter in terms of spirituality is never far from my mind. While I think she will most likely go through the typical Catholic rites of passage of First Communion/Confession, I also want her to have access to non-Catholic/Christian beliefs in order to make an educated decision for herself when she grows up.)
8. Meaningful ritual. (I realize that this will involve some compromise on my part, having to be open-minded to a new normal. What used to resonate with me about the mystery of the Eucharist within the Catholic mass no longer does so, except in a more intellectual manner. So I need to be open to totally new rituals that express what I actually do believe and want to stand for.)
9. Uplifting music. (I can always hope. And if I don't find this, there's always the internet and concerts for me to find music as a part of my personal spiritual practice. I don't need to always expect to be entertained by wonderful music when I gather for worship.)
10. Beautiful art and architecture. (While I do think there is value in helping us lift our thoughts to things greater than us via various art expressions, the lack of such expressions should not be reason for me to stay away. I've found just as much inspiration out in nature as I have in expensively adorned churches.)
11. Racial and ethnic diversity. (So this is what prompted me to write this post. My conclusion is that I cannot reasonably expect my local place of worship to look like a chapel at an international airport, as much as I would love that. I need to have enough dimensions to my life, enough connections, that between the various activities and friends I have the diversity I desire, both for myself and especially for my daughter.)
12. Pro-Life post-implantation. (There is a whole pro-life movement that is not affiliated with any particular religion. If I felt truly dedicated to the cause, I could always join in its efforts. The fact that I have only sporadically been involved with the March for Life and 40 Days for Life shows that I can hardly call myself dedicated, nor can I blame my religious community for my lack of deeper involvement.)
13. Access to religious service while traveling and geographically local. (So I can reasonably get to the closest UU church from where I live without much of a commute, and when I travel, I can always attend Catholic mass and benefit from the various other aspects of spiritual inspiration that I find more so among Catholic churches anyway, like the architecture and art.)
The next step is to attend my local UU church. Attend a few times. Attend with an open mind. Attend not so that I can see if the label "UU" fits me, but attend to see if I see myself contributing to - and benefiting from - the spiritual community available there. This is actually much different from my previous attempts at "finding a spiritual home", which were always based on a search for an apt label for myself. I think my current labels would remain the same - cultural/birthright Catholic, Deist, Spiritually Independent. If I do find a sense of community in the UU church, I'd only be adding to this list of labels, not replacing any of them. My spirituality is my own responsibility, not the church where I attend. Hopefully this attitude will serve me well on my journey.
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Happy New Year
So I thought I'd say adieu to the old year with a bang today.... After getting some bloodwork done (as the first step towards an embryo transfer looming in the near future), I passed out. And apparently fell to the ground, leaving a big oh colorful bump on my forehead and a cut by my eye from my glasses. In the aftermath of coming to, I realized today's date and joked to my hubby, thank goodness it's the LAST day of the year! Let's get this sort of nonesense out of the way and make way for a fresh start in the new year.
I used to spend New Year's Eve doing various activities prompted by, well, superstition. I called it tradition, but let's be honest. Today, I realized that I'm not worried about any of it. I don't believe anything magical is going to happen tonight at midnight, since it's been turning midnight for hours now around the world. How can one part of the world already be in 2016 while other parts are still in last year? I tell you how, time is a human construct.
As I was coming to from my little incident today, I felt exactly as if I were waking from a dream. I actually remember the dream. There were a lot of people, it was a sort of convention or something, there were some stairs and balconies, and an event with a ginormous whale was about to start. It felt like a pretty long dream, though apparently I was only unconscious for a minute or two. During the chatter of the phlebotomist and nurse and hubby, I just marveled at how time essentially stood still as I mentally checked out of this reality on my way to the floor. I marveled at how this time (not my first encounter with blacking out, I'm afraid), I knew I felt queasy, but I didn't see it coming. One second, I'm sitting there confirming that I want a bit of water, the next second I'm in a parallel universe getting ready for some giant whale show?!
I smirked to myself a bit. What we think of as reality, that's the real dream, isn't it? ;)
Today, as the sun set on the year 2015, I didn't even peak outside to bid it farewell, as I've done in years past. (I've welcomed the first day after high school graduation by photographing that "first sunrise of freedom" as I called it. I also photographed my last sunset on my way home after being discharged from the Army, another "freedom shot".) I just thought to myself, hmm, I'm no longer superstitious, am I? I'm not religious anymore. I'm sure they're related. Not terribly sentimental either, at least not as much as I once was.
Ever since my daughter was born, I've been trying to figure myself out. I feel more grounded now, as a mother. My life feels more real. Looks like I got exactly what I had hoped to get by becoming a mother: a meaningful life.
And yet. And yet I'm still here, ruminating about the ever mysterious spiritual things. Part of it is that I don't want to teach my daughter things I now consider lies, or at best, fairy tales, but at the same time, I do want her to have a spiritual sense of self. Part of it is that I realize my daughter will not be so little forever, and eventually I will have to be OK with whomever I am besides her mother. So I should figure out what that is.
Interestingly, it seems just as a sense of a new normal finally descended on our home, and hubby and I have gotten into a rhythm as a family of three, we are now embarking on the journey of another embryo transfer. This will be our last one. This will finally conclude our long journey to parenthood. Either we will remain a family of three, and continue raising our little girl as an only child - something we are both perfectly happy doing - or we will add to our brood and have to relearn all over again how to function with multiple kids on our hands. But these last two embryos, they are genetically related to our daughter. We owe her the attempt to have a genetic sibling for her. If it doesn't work, c'est la vie. But it is the only right thing to do. And so we're doing it, and praying that whatever may come, God will walk us through it, just like God walked us through these last three years, since the last transfer, through the pregnancy and birth of our daughter, and these last two+ years with her.
It has been amazing, exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating, stressful, joyful, difficult, yet second-nature. Our daughter stretches us in new ways, pushes us to grow in ways we otherwise wouldn't have grown. Every day we look at her and think (or say out loud) how amazing she is, and how lucky we are to have been blessed with the job of being her parents. And to think, we might get another bundle of joy like this? "We don't want to be greedy", my hubby says. We are happy with one child, if one child is all we have. But as difficult as having a newborn would be, especially with a toddler/preschooler, I think of how much joy the kids may bring to each other down the road, and I'm torn between hoping for a successful transfer, and hoping that we can just end this chapter of our lives and focus all our attention on our daughter.
In a way, we're both glad that it's not up to us. It's in the hands of God.
Here's to the great unknown that is 2016. We will be celebrating our 13th wedding anniversary, and 13 being my lucky number (our daughter was born in 2013!), whatever the future holds for us, I know it will be awesome, and rewarding, and worth the work.
Happy New Year, blogosphere!
I used to spend New Year's Eve doing various activities prompted by, well, superstition. I called it tradition, but let's be honest. Today, I realized that I'm not worried about any of it. I don't believe anything magical is going to happen tonight at midnight, since it's been turning midnight for hours now around the world. How can one part of the world already be in 2016 while other parts are still in last year? I tell you how, time is a human construct.
As I was coming to from my little incident today, I felt exactly as if I were waking from a dream. I actually remember the dream. There were a lot of people, it was a sort of convention or something, there were some stairs and balconies, and an event with a ginormous whale was about to start. It felt like a pretty long dream, though apparently I was only unconscious for a minute or two. During the chatter of the phlebotomist and nurse and hubby, I just marveled at how time essentially stood still as I mentally checked out of this reality on my way to the floor. I marveled at how this time (not my first encounter with blacking out, I'm afraid), I knew I felt queasy, but I didn't see it coming. One second, I'm sitting there confirming that I want a bit of water, the next second I'm in a parallel universe getting ready for some giant whale show?!
I smirked to myself a bit. What we think of as reality, that's the real dream, isn't it? ;)
Today, as the sun set on the year 2015, I didn't even peak outside to bid it farewell, as I've done in years past. (I've welcomed the first day after high school graduation by photographing that "first sunrise of freedom" as I called it. I also photographed my last sunset on my way home after being discharged from the Army, another "freedom shot".) I just thought to myself, hmm, I'm no longer superstitious, am I? I'm not religious anymore. I'm sure they're related. Not terribly sentimental either, at least not as much as I once was.
Ever since my daughter was born, I've been trying to figure myself out. I feel more grounded now, as a mother. My life feels more real. Looks like I got exactly what I had hoped to get by becoming a mother: a meaningful life.
And yet. And yet I'm still here, ruminating about the ever mysterious spiritual things. Part of it is that I don't want to teach my daughter things I now consider lies, or at best, fairy tales, but at the same time, I do want her to have a spiritual sense of self. Part of it is that I realize my daughter will not be so little forever, and eventually I will have to be OK with whomever I am besides her mother. So I should figure out what that is.
Interestingly, it seems just as a sense of a new normal finally descended on our home, and hubby and I have gotten into a rhythm as a family of three, we are now embarking on the journey of another embryo transfer. This will be our last one. This will finally conclude our long journey to parenthood. Either we will remain a family of three, and continue raising our little girl as an only child - something we are both perfectly happy doing - or we will add to our brood and have to relearn all over again how to function with multiple kids on our hands. But these last two embryos, they are genetically related to our daughter. We owe her the attempt to have a genetic sibling for her. If it doesn't work, c'est la vie. But it is the only right thing to do. And so we're doing it, and praying that whatever may come, God will walk us through it, just like God walked us through these last three years, since the last transfer, through the pregnancy and birth of our daughter, and these last two+ years with her.
It has been amazing, exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating, stressful, joyful, difficult, yet second-nature. Our daughter stretches us in new ways, pushes us to grow in ways we otherwise wouldn't have grown. Every day we look at her and think (or say out loud) how amazing she is, and how lucky we are to have been blessed with the job of being her parents. And to think, we might get another bundle of joy like this? "We don't want to be greedy", my hubby says. We are happy with one child, if one child is all we have. But as difficult as having a newborn would be, especially with a toddler/preschooler, I think of how much joy the kids may bring to each other down the road, and I'm torn between hoping for a successful transfer, and hoping that we can just end this chapter of our lives and focus all our attention on our daughter.
In a way, we're both glad that it's not up to us. It's in the hands of God.
Here's to the great unknown that is 2016. We will be celebrating our 13th wedding anniversary, and 13 being my lucky number (our daughter was born in 2013!), whatever the future holds for us, I know it will be awesome, and rewarding, and worth the work.
Happy New Year, blogosphere!
Saturday, December 19, 2015
Quick Aside on Homeschooling
I sometimes question weather I'm really a teacher at heart, as I like to think of myself. Because once I learn something important, I internalize it, and I forget that not everyone knows what I only recently came to know myself. And then I get exacerbated trying to explain something I think "everyone should know". Or even when I do engage, I'm not always good about starting at the beginning, and instead use arguments that already take for granted that we have the same common knowledge on the subject.
Currently, I'm thinking about homeschooling. I can easily say why I am personally choosing to educate my daughter at home, but when it comes to convincing arguments that I've read regarding the deficiencies of the public school system, I retreat a bit. So I wanted to leave a little record here of one little nugget I just read that may provide a little backup to my next conversation on the subject.
In David H. Albert's "Homeschooling and the Voyage of Self-Discovery", he cites Dan Greenberg, founder of the Sudbury Valley School (essentially an "unschooling"/child-led institution of learning located in Massachusetts. Greenberg notes seven "essential features of an education that would meet the needs of society in the 21st Century", something that business leaders, government officials, and educators all agree on. Below I list my three favorites.
"As society rapidly changes, individuals will have to be able to function comfortably in a world that is always in flux. Knowledge will continue to increase at a dizzying rate. This means that a content-based curriculum, with a set body of information to be imparted to students, is entirely inappropriate as a means of preparing children for their adult roles."
"People will be faced with greater individual responsibility to direct their own lives. Children must grow up in an environment that stresses self-motivation and self-assessment. Schools that focus on external motivating factors, such as rewards and punishments for meeting goals set by others, are denying children the tools they need most to survive."
"Technology now makes it possible for individuals to learn whatever they wish, whenever they wish, and in the manner they wish. Students should be empowered with both the technology and the responsibility for their own learning an educational timetable."
Currently, I'm thinking about homeschooling. I can easily say why I am personally choosing to educate my daughter at home, but when it comes to convincing arguments that I've read regarding the deficiencies of the public school system, I retreat a bit. So I wanted to leave a little record here of one little nugget I just read that may provide a little backup to my next conversation on the subject.
In David H. Albert's "Homeschooling and the Voyage of Self-Discovery", he cites Dan Greenberg, founder of the Sudbury Valley School (essentially an "unschooling"/child-led institution of learning located in Massachusetts. Greenberg notes seven "essential features of an education that would meet the needs of society in the 21st Century", something that business leaders, government officials, and educators all agree on. Below I list my three favorites.
"As society rapidly changes, individuals will have to be able to function comfortably in a world that is always in flux. Knowledge will continue to increase at a dizzying rate. This means that a content-based curriculum, with a set body of information to be imparted to students, is entirely inappropriate as a means of preparing children for their adult roles."
"People will be faced with greater individual responsibility to direct their own lives. Children must grow up in an environment that stresses self-motivation and self-assessment. Schools that focus on external motivating factors, such as rewards and punishments for meeting goals set by others, are denying children the tools they need most to survive."
"Technology now makes it possible for individuals to learn whatever they wish, whenever they wish, and in the manner they wish. Students should be empowered with both the technology and the responsibility for their own learning an educational timetable."
Friday, December 11, 2015
My Conversion to NonConversion
Four months ago, I returned to the Catholic church as an act of will. I was given the external validation I needed from a priest at a retreat, who said God would meet me where I was. Alex and I attended a seven week Discovering Christ series and will be joining small groups and the Following Christ follow-up series this spring. Yet I feel no closer to the Catholic God.
I know better than to start running away again. Basically, I've made my peace with being Catholic-light, if you will. I won't split hairs and get into discussions with devout Catholics who would try to challenge me to question my religious identity. No, I'm happy to be where I am. Culturally, I'm Catholic. That won't change. Theologically, I'm probably some sort of Deist. Spiritually, I believe that I am a mom.
Yup, I think that motherhood has become my spirituality, if not my religion. I don't mean that I worship my daughter. I mean that I worship God through parenting my daughter. I see God in her. I see God's will for both her and my potential in our mother-daughter relationship. I see the best chance of me becoming a better version of myself coming not through religious rhetoric but through being cognizant of the best interest of my daughter.
It is said that we need to look at what's important to us, what we dedicate our time to, to see where our faith is. So let's see...
Holistic living, even if I'm not very good at it, is important to me. I value the perspective of those going against the grain. I see they have a lot to offer me on my parenting journey and life journey as a whole. Thanks to holistic literature, I've taken on attachment parenting, gentle discipline, and home education. Environmental concerns have always been dear to my heart, and they fit nicely with an aspiring holistic lifestyle.
Social identity issues are important to me. I'm learning a ton in a transracial adoption facebook group I'm in, both about race issues and the perspective of adoptees. My daughter has a unique background, and so I don't simply get answers handed to me prepackaged. I have to wrestle with what I learn in order to find the relevance to our situation sometimes. But overall, I'm finding that I need to get off my white privilege high horse and consider the lived experiences of others. This isn't all that hard for me to do, as I've long thought of myself as an empath. I've always rooted for the underdog. Now I'm learning the tools to use and the issues to stand up for, rather than just being vaguely in favor of justice.
That pretty much covers it for me. I read and learn about race, identity, adoption, social justice, green living, attachment parenting, and homeschooling. These topics have taken over whatever time I previously dedicated to religious pursuits. These topics seem more real, more relevant, than philosophizing about God. These topics help me to live my life, rather than just think about its meaning.
My challenge now is to consciously find God in the midst of what interests me. Even though I'm not religious anymore, I do still believe in some sort of Creator-God to whom I owe everything. I believe that gratitude is the one way I can worship God "in spirit and in truth". It's more challenging without the benefit of a religious tradition. I certainly try to lean on the Catholic tradition when I can, but at times I feel a bit boxed in and distracted by the dogmatic rhetoric and have to take a step back to regroup.
Probably the most valuable lesson I'm (still) learning is to stop assigning labels to everything. I like labels. Labels make things clear. I like to know what's what. The problem is that this isn't actually the way the world works. Objects and facts may generally be placed under certain labels, but living people cannot. Religion, race, gender, sexuality - I am finding that all of these are continua, not mere black-or-white concepts. Labels are limiting. Labels say you must choose one over another, when real life has taught me that most times, it's both or neither, not this or that.
I think I need to start by considering what role religion has played in my life, and why that approach no longer serves me. Religion was equated with God. To question religion was to question God, an obvious no-no in my mind. But I'm slowly realizing that this is not at all the case. God does not belong in a labeled box any more than human beings do. If God isn't Christian, why should I think I must be a Christian in order to be a child of God? I am a child of God by virtue of having been made by *Him*. Period. Grace, a free gift. Undeserved. My reaction to being alive needs to be a life of gratitude. Christianity has somehow shifted the focus from this basic idea that only the most staunch materialist atheists can argue, to the exclusionary theory of salvation via Jesus's cross.
I don't need to be made to feel guilty for my shortcomings in order to come around to a life of gratitude. I don't need to feel guilty before I can be compassionate. I don't need to be afraid of God in order to abide by God's will. God is the air that I breathe. We sang this recently at a Discovering Christ talk. How moving it was to sing those words while breathing, to actually inhale the Divine and exhale back words of glorifying *Him*! This is the God I know to be true at the core of my being. It is a God without a name, *He* is simply "the I am".
I was sure I'd be a spiritual seeker for the rest of my life. Perhaps after my daughter is all grown up, I will revisit religious and spiritual pursuits, but at this point I think they'd be a hobby. They wouldn't gnaw at me to hurry up and figure out the truth so that I can start living right with God. I am already where I need to be. I just need to wake up. God is already here. Already guiding my steps.
There is nowhere for me to go, no other religion for me to convert to or out of. Religion is simply there for my benefit, to peruse what I find meaningful at any given time, and let others take advantage of whatever tickles their fancy. I don't need to find everything about Catholicism meaningful. Not everything has to resonate with me. It's not a religion custom-made for me. That's what I've been looking for. Instead, I need to stop looking for religion period, and start looking around at all the places where I see God, hear God, smell God, taste God, touch God. God is. I am. Everything else is interpretation, opinion, and commentary.
I know better than to start running away again. Basically, I've made my peace with being Catholic-light, if you will. I won't split hairs and get into discussions with devout Catholics who would try to challenge me to question my religious identity. No, I'm happy to be where I am. Culturally, I'm Catholic. That won't change. Theologically, I'm probably some sort of Deist. Spiritually, I believe that I am a mom.
Yup, I think that motherhood has become my spirituality, if not my religion. I don't mean that I worship my daughter. I mean that I worship God through parenting my daughter. I see God in her. I see God's will for both her and my potential in our mother-daughter relationship. I see the best chance of me becoming a better version of myself coming not through religious rhetoric but through being cognizant of the best interest of my daughter.
It is said that we need to look at what's important to us, what we dedicate our time to, to see where our faith is. So let's see...
Holistic living, even if I'm not very good at it, is important to me. I value the perspective of those going against the grain. I see they have a lot to offer me on my parenting journey and life journey as a whole. Thanks to holistic literature, I've taken on attachment parenting, gentle discipline, and home education. Environmental concerns have always been dear to my heart, and they fit nicely with an aspiring holistic lifestyle.
Social identity issues are important to me. I'm learning a ton in a transracial adoption facebook group I'm in, both about race issues and the perspective of adoptees. My daughter has a unique background, and so I don't simply get answers handed to me prepackaged. I have to wrestle with what I learn in order to find the relevance to our situation sometimes. But overall, I'm finding that I need to get off my white privilege high horse and consider the lived experiences of others. This isn't all that hard for me to do, as I've long thought of myself as an empath. I've always rooted for the underdog. Now I'm learning the tools to use and the issues to stand up for, rather than just being vaguely in favor of justice.
That pretty much covers it for me. I read and learn about race, identity, adoption, social justice, green living, attachment parenting, and homeschooling. These topics have taken over whatever time I previously dedicated to religious pursuits. These topics seem more real, more relevant, than philosophizing about God. These topics help me to live my life, rather than just think about its meaning.
My challenge now is to consciously find God in the midst of what interests me. Even though I'm not religious anymore, I do still believe in some sort of Creator-God to whom I owe everything. I believe that gratitude is the one way I can worship God "in spirit and in truth". It's more challenging without the benefit of a religious tradition. I certainly try to lean on the Catholic tradition when I can, but at times I feel a bit boxed in and distracted by the dogmatic rhetoric and have to take a step back to regroup.
Probably the most valuable lesson I'm (still) learning is to stop assigning labels to everything. I like labels. Labels make things clear. I like to know what's what. The problem is that this isn't actually the way the world works. Objects and facts may generally be placed under certain labels, but living people cannot. Religion, race, gender, sexuality - I am finding that all of these are continua, not mere black-or-white concepts. Labels are limiting. Labels say you must choose one over another, when real life has taught me that most times, it's both or neither, not this or that.
I think I need to start by considering what role religion has played in my life, and why that approach no longer serves me. Religion was equated with God. To question religion was to question God, an obvious no-no in my mind. But I'm slowly realizing that this is not at all the case. God does not belong in a labeled box any more than human beings do. If God isn't Christian, why should I think I must be a Christian in order to be a child of God? I am a child of God by virtue of having been made by *Him*. Period. Grace, a free gift. Undeserved. My reaction to being alive needs to be a life of gratitude. Christianity has somehow shifted the focus from this basic idea that only the most staunch materialist atheists can argue, to the exclusionary theory of salvation via Jesus's cross.
I don't need to be made to feel guilty for my shortcomings in order to come around to a life of gratitude. I don't need to feel guilty before I can be compassionate. I don't need to be afraid of God in order to abide by God's will. God is the air that I breathe. We sang this recently at a Discovering Christ talk. How moving it was to sing those words while breathing, to actually inhale the Divine and exhale back words of glorifying *Him*! This is the God I know to be true at the core of my being. It is a God without a name, *He* is simply "the I am".
I was sure I'd be a spiritual seeker for the rest of my life. Perhaps after my daughter is all grown up, I will revisit religious and spiritual pursuits, but at this point I think they'd be a hobby. They wouldn't gnaw at me to hurry up and figure out the truth so that I can start living right with God. I am already where I need to be. I just need to wake up. God is already here. Already guiding my steps.
There is nowhere for me to go, no other religion for me to convert to or out of. Religion is simply there for my benefit, to peruse what I find meaningful at any given time, and let others take advantage of whatever tickles their fancy. I don't need to find everything about Catholicism meaningful. Not everything has to resonate with me. It's not a religion custom-made for me. That's what I've been looking for. Instead, I need to stop looking for religion period, and start looking around at all the places where I see God, hear God, smell God, taste God, touch God. God is. I am. Everything else is interpretation, opinion, and commentary.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
Idealism and Regret
We anguished over whom to choose as Maya's godparents for a long time. We hurt my mother's feelings by not choosing her or any other family members. We chose a long time friend who had proven to love Catholicism and was happy to discuss her faith - something we wanted for Maya, someone to go to for faith questions as she grew up. We also chose a new friend from church, a secular Franciscan. He was super Catholic, involved in all the causes we cared about. He was also ethnically Latino, and it was important for me that Maya have a non-White godparent.
And yet, soon after her baptism, I began to doubt and regret our decision. I had consulted various people and researched how people choose their kids' godparents. I didn't want it to be an honor. I wanted someone who we felt was qualified to provide a strong faith foundation and to hold us accountable for raising our daughter Catholic. And yet, the first thing to go was contact with the godfather. Once we moved out of state, in spite of repeat attempts to contact him, send photos, remember him on father's day, getting a text back was a toss up. He did manage to attend Maya's first birthday party, which was held near all of our old friends and relatives. I thought there was hope yet. But there's been no contact with him since. He's assured us of his daily prayers for his goddaughter, and as a secular Franciscan, I believe him. But I was hoping for their relationship to be more practical, more earthly than just spiritual remembrance.
Maya's godmother also turned out to have a different view of her role than we did. Her goddaughter was not invited to her wedding. Both Alex and I were in the wedding - I as a bridesmaid and Alex as an usher, but Maya just wasn't supposed to show up. Only family kids, she said. Two issues with that - one, I assumed being her goddaughter, she counted as family, but apparently not. And two, she was only 8 months old, so wouldn't be running around or eating any of their food. I was forced to pry myself away from my daughter for the first time and leave her with my sister-in-law in the hotel as I attended the wedding. And now that Maya's godmother had a baby of her own, we were looking forward to being at said baby's baptism. Only we just got word that it may be "family only".
As for accountability - Alex and I must hold each other accountable. Neither of the godparents were there when I left the church during my postpartum period. One was too absent to even know I was suffering a crisis of faith, and the other - in spite of knowing - did not do or say anything to help ensure that her goddaughter was still being raised in the faith.
I am pissed at myself for trying to idealize what the godparent role is supposed to be. I wanted better godparents than Alex and I had. I wanted involved godparents, additional people who would be "like family". I wanted to extend Maya's circle of love and influence, especially when it comes to faith. But instead, I ended up building an awkward wall between me and my mother, and having dashed expectations with both of Maya's godparents.
My godparents were my maternal grandfather, on whose behalf my grandmother always bought gifts and remembered special occasions, and my mom's sister. My grandfather/godfather happened to be visiting us in the US when I was confirmed, and so I chose him as my sponsor. But it was a matter of convenience, since we didn't know other Catholics. My aunt/godmother told me after my wedding that her job as godmother was now done. As if she had done anything in regards to my faith formation. She didn't even attend my wedding.
I wanted better for Maya. But it looks like it was a pipe dream. I meant well, yet sometimes the best of intentions do not make up for the rotten impact of a decision.
As we consider the possibility of adding another child to our family, my number one concern is having to choose godparents yet again! I'm pretty much at a point where I will just leave the decision up to Alex and hope for the best. No matter what I decide, I no longer believe that I can ensure that my kids have certain relationships with certain people. I suppose we can call it a lesson learned and move on. I suppose that's the only thing we can do. Dwelling on regret isn't going to change what is.
What's important is that Maya was baptized and is being raised in Christ's one, holy, and apostolic catholic church, something that always was and always will be the sole right and responsibility of her parents.
Sunday, October 18, 2015
We Should Be Coming Out of the EA Closet Soon
I've been struggling with the discussion of embryo donation/adoption lately. Before our daughter was born, I was very open about our journey and what avenues we were considering in our pursuit to parenthood. But now that she's here, it's her story too, and I'm afraid of giving too much away without her consent.
I know too many ignorant people who do not censor their thoughts before they speak. Case in point. Last night we were getting our check at a restaurant when the waitress, looking at Maya, asked, "Who does she look like?" Awkward pause... "She doesn't look like either of you!"
Hmm, I chickened out and took the chance to focus on my daughter not spilling her drink so that I wouldn't have to address the waitress. Alex, luckily, responded with a vague truth that seemed to satisfy our rude inquirer, "She's got a little mix in her."
Apparently, as Maya gets older, she is growing more into her Filipino looks. To be honest, we both assumed that we could bank on her being mistaken for Hispanic and therefore, since Alex is Latino, not have to face these sort of questions. We've been getting comments about her beauty since the beginning, and I've had two different men ask me - when Alex wasn't with us - if she were "mine". Alex generally sailed by on their daddy-and-me escapades, until just this month.
Apparently, he recently got his first comment questioning where Maya gets her looks from. There was a guess that I - his wife - may be Chinese. He got the exact same comment from someone else just the day before the restaurant situation. So if even he's getting these comments now, we have to be proactively prepared to respond in a way that lets our daughter know 1) that she absolutely belongs in our family regardless of resemblance, and 2) what an appropriate response to such a nosy question would be if she ever gets asked something like this directly.
The other piece of the puzzle is that we do want to celebrate her British and Filipino ancestry. We want her to be proud of it, though to be honest, I don't know what that means. What does it mean to be proud of a group that you belong to? To be proud of the accomplishments of those who share your DNA? Your ethnicity? Your cultural history? Why is that something to be proud of? I'm not saying it's not, I'm just wondering what makes this phenomenon relevant in a person's life.
Regardless, we can no longer ignore that Maya's ethnicity is not Polish-Latina. Don't get me wrong - she absolutely still is Polish, by virtue of having a Polish mother who speaks Polish to her, and she absolutely still is Latina, by virtue of having a Latino father who speaks Spanish to her. Furthermore, she is American - that which unites the three of us. But to think that this last identity would take precedence over race, ethnicity, or culture is a bit naive.
Several months ago, Alex and I agreed that if the topic of conversation naturally presented an opportunity to share Maya's unique beginnings, we would matter-of-factly share. I had the chance to do just that with a new friend whose husband is Filipino. It made more sense for me to share this information with her than to go out of my way to hide it, since I was asking all sorts of questions about Filipino culture!
But there are other friends, both old and new, who don't yet know. Not because we're hiding it, but because we don't think of how she came to be in our family anymore. I don't want anyone to ever question how "real" our relationships to each other are. I don't know what I would do if someone said something like "does she know her 'real' parents". Would I cry? Would I curse? Would I start yelling or even lash out with a backhanded slap to the back of the accuser's head? I honestly don't think I could just calmly correct the person.
Quick aside. I was recently asked if I "just stay home" with my daughter. I tried to make light of the phrasing. As in, yeah, I don't really do anything much. But it didn't catch on and the person asked if I did anything before having Maya. I took the bait and responded that I taught ESL, and the moment was gone after that. But the implication was heavy and is still with me, though I don't think what I do is easy at all (hence the word "just").
Based on my lack of a witty yet polite reaction to the "just staying home" conversation, or the "she doesn't look like either of you" exchange, I can't say that I would know what the best way to respond would be to a "real parent/own child" interaction.
I think the best defense is offense, as counter intuitive as that may sound. I should probably test the waters one person at a time, until I am very comfortable sharing just enough but not too much information, so that I am prepared for the inevitable stranger comments and questions.
By the way, here's what I've come up with regarding any future comments about our family's resemblance to each other:
1. Yeah, I don't look like my mom either.
2. Really? You don't think? Everyone else says she's a spitting image of her dad!
3. No, she looks like herself.
4. I know, aren't genetics a fascinating phenomenon?
5.Well, she's all ours! I gave birth to her myself, naturally at home, even.
6. Why do you ask? What makes you say that?
I know too many ignorant people who do not censor their thoughts before they speak. Case in point. Last night we were getting our check at a restaurant when the waitress, looking at Maya, asked, "Who does she look like?" Awkward pause... "She doesn't look like either of you!"
Hmm, I chickened out and took the chance to focus on my daughter not spilling her drink so that I wouldn't have to address the waitress. Alex, luckily, responded with a vague truth that seemed to satisfy our rude inquirer, "She's got a little mix in her."
Apparently, as Maya gets older, she is growing more into her Filipino looks. To be honest, we both assumed that we could bank on her being mistaken for Hispanic and therefore, since Alex is Latino, not have to face these sort of questions. We've been getting comments about her beauty since the beginning, and I've had two different men ask me - when Alex wasn't with us - if she were "mine". Alex generally sailed by on their daddy-and-me escapades, until just this month.
Apparently, he recently got his first comment questioning where Maya gets her looks from. There was a guess that I - his wife - may be Chinese. He got the exact same comment from someone else just the day before the restaurant situation. So if even he's getting these comments now, we have to be proactively prepared to respond in a way that lets our daughter know 1) that she absolutely belongs in our family regardless of resemblance, and 2) what an appropriate response to such a nosy question would be if she ever gets asked something like this directly.
The other piece of the puzzle is that we do want to celebrate her British and Filipino ancestry. We want her to be proud of it, though to be honest, I don't know what that means. What does it mean to be proud of a group that you belong to? To be proud of the accomplishments of those who share your DNA? Your ethnicity? Your cultural history? Why is that something to be proud of? I'm not saying it's not, I'm just wondering what makes this phenomenon relevant in a person's life.
Regardless, we can no longer ignore that Maya's ethnicity is not Polish-Latina. Don't get me wrong - she absolutely still is Polish, by virtue of having a Polish mother who speaks Polish to her, and she absolutely still is Latina, by virtue of having a Latino father who speaks Spanish to her. Furthermore, she is American - that which unites the three of us. But to think that this last identity would take precedence over race, ethnicity, or culture is a bit naive.
Several months ago, Alex and I agreed that if the topic of conversation naturally presented an opportunity to share Maya's unique beginnings, we would matter-of-factly share. I had the chance to do just that with a new friend whose husband is Filipino. It made more sense for me to share this information with her than to go out of my way to hide it, since I was asking all sorts of questions about Filipino culture!
But there are other friends, both old and new, who don't yet know. Not because we're hiding it, but because we don't think of how she came to be in our family anymore. I don't want anyone to ever question how "real" our relationships to each other are. I don't know what I would do if someone said something like "does she know her 'real' parents". Would I cry? Would I curse? Would I start yelling or even lash out with a backhanded slap to the back of the accuser's head? I honestly don't think I could just calmly correct the person.
Quick aside. I was recently asked if I "just stay home" with my daughter. I tried to make light of the phrasing. As in, yeah, I don't really do anything much. But it didn't catch on and the person asked if I did anything before having Maya. I took the bait and responded that I taught ESL, and the moment was gone after that. But the implication was heavy and is still with me, though I don't think what I do is easy at all (hence the word "just").
Based on my lack of a witty yet polite reaction to the "just staying home" conversation, or the "she doesn't look like either of you" exchange, I can't say that I would know what the best way to respond would be to a "real parent/own child" interaction.
I think the best defense is offense, as counter intuitive as that may sound. I should probably test the waters one person at a time, until I am very comfortable sharing just enough but not too much information, so that I am prepared for the inevitable stranger comments and questions.
By the way, here's what I've come up with regarding any future comments about our family's resemblance to each other:
1. Yeah, I don't look like my mom either.
2. Really? You don't think? Everyone else says she's a spitting image of her dad!
3. No, she looks like herself.
4. I know, aren't genetics a fascinating phenomenon?
5.Well, she's all ours! I gave birth to her myself, naturally at home, even.
6. Why do you ask? What makes you say that?
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