There is an Appointed Time for Everything

October 15th is infant loss awareness day, so what better day than today to share this story.

When the time came for Husbandy and I to start thinking about having more kids, it was really tough for me. Theoretically I wanted more kids, but I also couldn’t imagine having to split my time with Reese. I love her so so much and didn’t want to give up any time with her, nor could I imagine loving another child as much as I love her. Of course I’ve heard you’re your heart just grows and you love even more than you knew you could, but I had a hard time with it. I prayed that the Lord would open my heart and He did it through my siblings. My brother and sister are two of my biggest blessings and I cannot imagine life without them. My life would be 100% different if my parents didn’t say a selfless yes to God, and I want that for Reese. And so, my hardened heart was opened.

Husbandy and I started to really try for another baby in May. Trying to get pregnant is fun, but it’s also hard and stressful. When you’re waiting to figure out if you’re pregnant, days feel like months and months feel like years. I was so encouraged by this website and its prayers for pregnancy. I began to pray the Trying to Conceive prayer every day. It’s a perfect reminder of who our God is. On month number four, I could tell that something was different. Mostly, I all of a sudden wanted to go to bed very early and my basal body temperature spiked. I got really really excited, but made myself wait to take a pregnancy test until what I thought would be the day I would start another cycle. When the day came, I realized the only pregnancy test I had was expired, but I used it anyway. Positive!! Yes, yes yes! But wait, do expired pregnancy tests work? What would be more likely, a false positive, or a false negative? I didn’t really know, so I decided to keep the news to myself, buy more tests that day, and see what a second test said. 

Positive! I was two for two and ready to tell Husbandy. I took Reese in her room to change, handed her the pregnancy tests, and told her to give them to daddy. It was such a happy morning. That was Thursday. 

There are so many emotions with getting pregnant. Relief, joy, excitement, happiness, and fear. 40 weeks. 40 weeks I have to wait to meet my baby and 40 weeks I have to worry about his/her development. I wrestled with calling my OB because I knew he most likely wouldn’t want to see me until I was further along, but ended up doing it and made an appointment that wasn’t for another 2.5 weeks. Again, another waiting game and it felt like it was forever away. We spent a lot of time that weekend with my family and I so badly wanted to say something, but decided confirming I was pregnant with a doctor made more sense first. So I kept my mouth shut.

Unfortunately, on Monday our story took a sad turn.

Just after lunch on Monday, August 31st, when I went to the bathroom, I saw my first sign of blood and froze. I tried to tell myself that bleeding could occur during pregnancy, but of course the bad thoughts outweighed any sort of good. I immediately called the doctor and was told by a nurse that there wasn’t much they could do because I was so early. I knew in the back of my mind she was going to say that, but I wanted answers. I then called Husbandy. That morning my temperature had taken a dip, which I had already told him about, so I felt like I was delivering a second drop of bad news for the day. After discussing it with him, I also decided I needed prayer warriors. Telling your sister and mom that you’re pregnant and that you might be losing the baby all at the same time is not ideal and certainly not how I had planned to share the news. It was hard, but I needed prayer. As the day went on, the little hints of blood turned into more and more and my fears grew. I cried a lot Monday night. A lot. 

Tuesday morning rolled around and I could barely open my eyes. They were too puffy from the tears, so I emailed work and told them I wouldn’t be coming in. I also called the Dr again and (thankfully) got a different nurse who told me they would squeeze me in. Husbandy met me there and away we went in to the sonogram room. The last time I was in there, I got to see my precious Reese. Heart beating, little legs kicking, a big smiling face; so it was really weird for me knowing I was there and most likely not going to see anything. Having seeing Reese for the first time at 5 weeks and 6 days, I knew what I was looking for and didn’t see anything. In such a hard situation I did find comfort in the Christian music playing in the background. How awesome is that? A song playing in the sono room reminding me of God’s grace, mercy, and love. I’m so thankful for a Christ loving OB. After the sono was over the tech typed up some notes and sent Husbandy and on to wait for Dr B. One note that stuck out was “no gestational sac at this time.” It was what I expected and what I saw, but I still had hope that the sono tech saw something different.

I was pretty much ready to hear that I had miscarried, but that wasn’t what my OB had to say. He was certain I was earlier in the pregnancy than what I was saying and didn’t think the sono would have shown anything either way. He also told Husbandy and I that 1/3 of normal pregnancies bleed and the pregnancy test I took there came back positive. Instead of ruling anything a miscarriage, he gave us a 50/50 shot and told us to come back in a week. 

The rest of the week I struggled between still having hope and not feeling pregnant. I don’t mean I wasn’t experiencing morning sickness, so I didn’t feel pregnant. I mean I just felt empty, a completely different feeling from the one I had in the days prior. I knew deep down I wasn’t pregnant anymore, but I wanted so badly to be wrong. It was also easy for me to think I was never even pregnant. I never saw a heartbeat and my bleeding was much like a typical period. But then I reminded myself life begins at conception and I had three positive pregnancy tests, so I know there was life inside of me. It’s hard when you’re reminded of pain and suffering at each bathroom visit. The hardest thing for me to reconcile though was that I never knew when the actual miscarriage happened. Every time I went to the bathroom I said a prayer.

As the week went by I felt peace. There were times I thought I was ok but would then just start crying and I’m sure that’s how it will be for a while. When our second Dr’s appointment rolled around I had been bleeding for a week and knew everything the sonogram would show, and the sono tech confirmed my beliefs. I didn’t really know what to expect from my OB. He’s definitely a quirky guy and I couldn’t imagine him in a sad situation. But, he surprised me and gave me comfort in knowing I didn’t do anything wrong, but this just happens sometimes. We talked about our plan going forward which included weekly blood tests to make sure my body returned to normal and lots of waiting. Thankfully, my blood counts were normal with the first blood test I took.

Eventually the day came around that should have been my first prenatal visit, but instead I wasn’t going to see the doctor at all. It was definitely a weird feeling. I wrote an email to my family asking for prayers and the responses I got were so encouraging. They reminded me that our sweet baby is in the company of angels and raising her own little voice in praise. That our child who was conceived in love has returned to be with Love itself and that she will be interceding for her Mommy and Daddy and sister before the throne of God. WOW! That day was also the feast day of Our Lady of Sorrows. I don’t find it ironic at all; I see it as God’s perfect timing and His love for His children. I know Mary was also interceding for me on her feast day.

I am so thankful for family and friends. I know the peace I’ve felt about this situation would not have been possible without the power of prayer. I’m so thankful that two friends, who thought we were going to have a nice girl’s dinner, listened when it quickly turned into me bursting into tears. I’m thankful they chose to listen, to pray, and to check in on me on the days that followed. I’m thankful for blogs that I read with a whole new perspective now, especially those that remind me “His worthiness is not dependent upon the outcome of our prayer.” He is good and His goodness endures forever.”

I am also so thankful for my place of work. As I mentioned, I missed one day of work and my manager was so supportive. On Wednesday (the day after I came back) he brought me into his office and said the nicest things to me. He reassured me that I had a support system there and if I needed more time to feel free to take it. He didn’t even know what I was going through, but he had the insight to say these things to me. I wavered between telling him later what was going on. He’s a single guy and I was sure he wouldn’t want to know about this kind of thing. After some prayers, however, I decided it was best to let him know, and again his words were so great and so kind. I also have friends at work who I know are praying for Husbandy and I.

Lastly, I’m thankful for Husbandy and Reese. Even though we were going through a hard time they brought smiles and laughs every day. I’ve definitely been reminded of how much Reese is my little angel and give her hugs and kisses as much as I can. 

Husbandy and I know that one day we will be able to meet our baby in Heaven. When that day comes, I want to be able to call her by name. When we found out we were pregnant, I had just finished a novena to St Monica, and because of that we have decided to name our baby Monica.

I’ve already began to wonder what it will be like when Husbandy and I start trying again and how I’m going to handle it when I see a positive pregnancy test? I know there will be lots of joy, but also fear. I just read another blog about having faith over fear, so I hope when the time comes, I will remember those words.

Even though I didn’t get to see your heartbeat, or precious profile, I know I’ll meet you one day and know who you are, because that’s a mother’s love.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15

There is an appointed time for everything,

and a time for every affair under the heavens.

A time to give birth, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant.

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to tear down, and a time to build.

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance.

A time to scatter stones, and a time to gather them;

a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embraces.

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to cast away.

A time to rend, and a time to sew;

a time to be silent, and a time to speak.

A time to love, and a time to hate;

a time of war, and a time of peace.

What profit have workers from their toil?

I have seen the business that God has given to mortals to be busied about.

God has made everything appropriate to its time, but has put the timeless into their hearts so they cannot find out, from beginning to end, the work which God has done.

I recognized that there is nothing better than to rejoice and to do well during life.

Moreover, that all can eat and drink and enjoy the good of all their toil—this is a gift of God.

I recognized that whatever God does will endure forever; there is no adding to it, or taking from it. Thus has God done that he may be revered.

What is, has already been; what is to be, already is: God retrieves what has gone by.

A Year in Photos Week 4

Day 19

Husbandy, Reese, and I took a trip to Babies R Us for a few things we needed, but more importantly, for some friends of ours that are having TWINS in April. We had to capture this moment as it was Reese's first time to sit in a shopping cart.

Day 20

Reesearoo did not have her best night. This is her in the morning when she needed to get up to get ready to go to Donna's. Not gonna lie, I'll always love a good nap on my shoulder. Even if it does make me late for work and then I catch the elevator with the President and CFO of our company who were returning from what was probably their second Starbucks run of the morning.

Day 21

Husbandy and I are officially certified to teach the sympto-thermal method of NFP! It's been a long time coming, but on Tuesday night we sat in our mentor couple's class to see how things are done. They've been teaching with the Couples to Couples League (CCL) for 38 years, so they know a thing or two. 

Speaking of NFP I read some pretty stellar blogs over the subject the other day. One was about how NFP helped this girl in other ways than what most people think is the only use for it. Another one was a husband's perspective on NFP. Here's a post about what NPF is not (probably my favorite). Annnnd here's a really great Q&A about NFP. I've recently become a huge fan of this blog which is where most of these links are posted. She writes primarily about her life with 3 kids and 1 in utero in hilarious posts. She also has a really funny three year old (see Conversations with Julia) and husband (see Simon Says). Ok, seriously, that's enough links! And, no, I'm not getting paid for promoting her blog, ha.

 Day 22

We went to dinner with some friends who also had a sweet baby girl, Blakely, in June. It's been seven months, so I think is was about time. I love the bottom left picture, it looks like they are fist pounding it.

 Day 23

Nothing fun here.....I just did lots of laundry. Can you believe all this belongs to Reese?! And trust me, there's more where that came from.

 Day 24

I love leaving work on Friday with a to do list looking like this!

Day 25

We spent the day celebrating Hannah and Hudson (see day 19) at one of the best thrown baby showers I've ever been to. Everything was super cute and the food was really good. We are so excited to meet these little angel babies in April.

I Exalt Thee

It seems that music moves me more than I realize. The choir my mom is in has recently been struggling due to lots of changes that have taken places. Last week though, they seemed to be much more together. Particularly on one song that really moved me. I grew up hearing it every so often, but something was different this time.

I looked briefly for a good video of it on YouTube, but couldn't find one I loved. Plus, we kinda combine two songs. So, here are the words instead.




Lord, You are more precious than silver;
Lord, You are more costly than gold;
Lord, You are more beautiful than diamonds;
And nothing I desire compares with You.

I exalt Thee
I exalt Thee
I exalt Thee, O Lord!







Ok, so I like this guys version of We (I) Exalt Thee @1:30 - 2:25.

Reliving Our Wedding

You probably already knew this….but I have an awesome sister. Over the last few years I have really seen her faith blossom and it’s been such an encouragement. Not only to me, but to Husbandy and I. It’s good to be able to talk about our faith and struggles with people as close to us as Rebecca and Jason are.

Rebecca wrote the below post one her 1 month wedding anniversary. It’s so wonderful, I had to share it over here. I pray that all my friends are able to relive their wedding day like she describes. I love you sister!!

How Could It Be That My God Would Welcome Me Into This Mystery

I thought the 1 monthiversary would be a good time for some of my reflections about marriage.  For the short version please see the definitions of wonderful, joyful, and right in the dictionary.  I can't believe how fast this month has gone by.  Like I told Jason in my note to him this morning, it merely takes me closing my eyes (or scrolling through our wedding pictures for the 100,000th time) to bring back the rush of emotions I had when I saw Jason waiting for me at the end of aisle and the unbelievable joy I felt as we danced our first dance.  And it's not just because our wedding day was that awesome, it's because what it has led to.  What we have become in a month.  We're a family now and I am so blessed to be able to call him my husband :-)


I know that marriage will not always be this rosy.  The multiple marriage prep classes we did reminded us of this.  It is hard and takes real work to get through some of the toughest times.  I do plan to write more about these sometime in the future.  I know I say that a lot, but so much has happened the past few months it's hard getting caught up with everything.  I'll just say I think the Church does it right.  We are well prepared to love and support one another as we go forth in our marriage.


Okay now my reflections:  Remember when I said I think the Church got it right?  This extends so far beyond the prep classes.  This extends to the history of the Church, to the sacrament of marriage, to the institution of the Eucharist, to our relationship with Christ.  I remember reading a Christopher West book once and he related a story about his father-in-law receiving Communion the first time after his wedding.  He broke into tears and expressed that "for the first time in my life I understood the meaning of Christ's words, 'This is my body given for you.'"  This always struck me as interesting.  What was this change that was made in him so quickly?  How did the Mass suddenly come more to life for him through marriage?


Well, I can say I believe I experienced something very similar to this the Sunday after our wedding.  I became so overcome with emotions during the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  Here I was kneeling before the body of Christ with my husband with whom I was now one.  This Sacramental mystery we had been welcomed into is an image of our union with God in the Eucharist.  Beyond this I was realizing that every time we come to Mass we get to relive an integral part of our wedding day.  Not just see pictures, watch a video or passively reminisce, but relive, actively participate.  How perfect that the Mass is often referred to as the marriage supper of the Lamb. Christ constantly renews his Vows with us by offering Himself to us in the Eucharist.  So too do Jason and I offer ourselves to one another in marriage, living out our vows.  Even still when I go to Mass I feel I am participating in a new way.  I'm reliving our wedding day, being an active part of the wedding supper of the Lamb, and anticipating the day we enter into full communion with Christ.  It's pretty awesome.  I have read about this through Theology of the Body and believed in the mystery and sacrament of marriage, but to actually experience being a part of it is new and exciting.  It's not better or more perfect than it was before (you can't improve on what is already perfect) but for me it is more complete.  I love going to Mass with my husband  :) I hope in the future as we face troubling times we can look to the Mass as something which can always bring us together and remind us of our wedding day.  


On top of all of this, it has brought even more meaning to the words of our second reading from Ephesians 5
For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother
and be joined to his wife,
and the two shall become one flesh.
This is a great mystery,
but I speak in reference to Christ and the Church.
In any case, each one of you should love his wife as himself, and the wife should respect her husband.


If we are able to live out these words I am confident in our marriage.  If we always remember that marriage is a reflection of Christ's love for the Church and strive to imitate and share this love we cannot go wrong.  



Photography by Susan Gilbert

Photography by Chandler Arden



                                                             

Really Good Read

After reading the below post, I realized how thankful I am for NFP. Even greater, I realized how thankful I am for Husbandy and how much he loves and respects me. It takes a lot for a man to be able to see the good in abstinence within marriage. It's not always easy, but it's so fulfilling. I am lucky to have him. I am also so encouraged by all my friends and family who have also chosen NFP. It has been an absolute blessing to be able to share stories, methods, questions, frustrations, and triumphs with them. I love you all.


The following post was originally posted on Bad Catholic.

(Got this from a wonderful woman over email, who prefers to remain anonymous. I love this, because it mirrors the path of so many women to the Church's teachings! Read it!)

When I was younger, I thought I was a revolutionary. Like most other people in my generation, I was encouraged to be different. I was encouraged to challenge the status quo for my own good and take control of my life. The third-wave feminists behind magazines like Bust! and organizations like “VOX” (aka Planned Parenthood) told me to reclaim my own sexual freedom and identity from a lifetime of sexual oppression. I didn’t think about how organizations such as this make some serious profits off of sexually active females. They convinced me that I needed to overcome a lifetime of sexual repression…long before I was even interested or even ready for sexual activity. They told me to challenge my religious beliefs and the morals my parents had taught me because it would liberate me. Smart as I thought I was, I fell for it. I fell for just about every single one of their lies.

They convinced me that I, still a virgin at age 20, was a victim of a male chauvinism. They fed me stories about the oppression of women through the years. They used the suffragettes as poster children for a movement that, in hindsight, would have probably shamed, shocked, or disgusted most of these women. These “pro-female” organizations presented themselves as a support line. They made themselves seem like they were intent on saving girls like me from a life of male oppression and outdated religious views that seemed to favor men. These people seemed so concerned about my well-being. I had no idea what they were all about. Comfortable as I was with these people, I soon started realizing that I was not completely like them. Supportive as they made themselves out to be, I began to notice how they reacted when they found out that I was a virgin.

Unlike promiscuity, virginity was not a choice for these people. Virgins were virgins because they didn’t know any better. They were virgins because they were victims to a sexist culture or religion. They were virgins because they could not make decisions for themselves. Who in the world would choose virginity, when there was so much fun you could have sleeping with anyone and everyone you wanted to sleep with (as long as “protection” was involved…).

Being a virgin meant that I was on my way to becoming a victim. My new buddies made me believe that I lived in a male-dominated world where men could be as promiscuous as they wished before marriage. According to these people, losing your virginity on your wedding night meant that you had failed as a woman. You had failed at trying to seek a man who could best satisfy you (because marriage means nothing to these people if the sex isn’t great). Saving yourself for marriage was turned into a game of Russian Roulette. You would never know if your husband really was “good enough” for you in bed and you would never know how many women he slept with before he married you. The only thing you would know was that you had saved yourself for a man who could turn out to be an unfaithful weasel (because that’s not sexist thinking). They never told me that there were good guys out there worth waiting for. They only told me that I could use sex as a tool to assure that I could control my own life…and any male I made the misfortune of marrying.

I listened to them and found myself sleeping with someone I had only known for a week. I didn’t think about the consequences when it happened. I didn’t even care that I barely knew him. As bad as this sounds and as much as it shames me to admit this, I thought only about myself. I thought about how I had just one-upped that loser I would one day marry. I thought about how I had just triumphed in the battle for sexual liberation. You see, by that point, these feminists had pretty much brainwashed me and I was doing exactly what they had taught me to do…using sex as a tool of empowerment. Forget about love. Forget about chastity. Forget about morals. This was my way of showing the world that I was not some mindless female. This was my way of getting back at my future husband for all the women he slept with before marriage. That is how twisted my mind had become following years of indoctrination by the media and this feminist movement.

After falling for the lies about sexual liberation, I fell for the next big lie. I fell for the idea of “protection.” As pro-life as I considered myself to be (pro-life as in “besides abortion, anything goes), I started doing the same things that often lead to abortions. I started thinking about pregnancy as a “risk,” rather than the creation of life….rather than a blessing. I used protection, but still found myself praying to God that I wasn’t pregnant. I still found myself racing to the local pharmacy for pregnancy tests. As much as the world seems to be convinced that condoms work 100% of the time…they don’t. They break. They are used improperly. Latex breaks down over time.

After a few runs to the pharmacy, I decided to be even more “responsible.” I decided to go on “the pill.” I convinced my worried conscience that I needed to take these hormones to correct some minor issues such as acne, amenorrhea, etc. I told myself that I was not using the pill to prevent pregnancy, but that’s really why I wanted to take it. I still remember going to the college health center and sitting down with a nurse practitioner. They were more concerned with the types of sexual activities I participated in than they were my own health. I was never told about side effects. I was never told about the risks because the pill was harmless. They told me that the pill contained natural hormones, that it was “safe and effective.” The safety of the pill, like that of any other drug, is based on the effects it has on the “average woman.” I was young and because of my young age, I was told that I had nothing to worry about.

I was told that I only needed to worry about the side effects when I turned 35…which was ages away. They never once considered double checking to see if I really was an “average woman.” They told me not to worry when I started getting migraines and massive bruises on my legs. They never bothered to look up the side effects to the pill when I voiced my concern. They never once checked my cholesterol levels, which turned out to be extremely high. They never even mentioned that the pill could affect cholesterol levels. I ended up finding all of this out myself. The health center didn’t really seem to care about my health. They were more concerned that I had enough pills during summer and winter vacation than they were of all these symptoms that started appearing. After all, they assured me, taking the pill was my way of ensuring that I would one day be fertile when I was ready to have kids.

Yes, the pill made my cycle regular…but it did not solve the problem. It only masked the problem. Aspirin may ease your aches and pains, but it does not fix a broken bone. In the same sense, as much as these pro-femme nurses tried convincing me otherwise, the pill wasn’t fixing anything. If anything, it was making things worse! Yet, I kept taking it. Who was I kidding? As much as I had tried in the beginning to convince myself otherwise, I had never taken the pill to take care of any health problems. It was a lie from the beginning. Therefore, even after suffering all these side effects and coming across lies that were too blatant for me to ignore, I kept taking the pill. At this point, however, I was more honest to myself. I did not even bother trying to convince myself any longer that I was taking the pill for health reasons. As much as it pained my conscience, I accepted the reality that I was taking (and had been taking it) simply to avoid pregnancy.

My conscience cringed at this realization. Therefore, I started to find any source I could to support the idea that I was not interfering with the life of any unborn children. The pharmaceutical companies selling me the drugs told me that I wasn’t interfering with any lives…because life required implantation. No implantation = no life= I’m still okay. Okay as I thought I was, my conscience knew better. Yet my conscience seemed to be no match for the moral relativism that had been ingrained in my mind since I had picked up my first “Cosmopolitan” magazine. Using birth control wasn’t as bad as abortion, right? It didn’t count as a life if the fertilized egg was unable to implant itself, right? Life doesn’t really start at conception, right? I’m only sleeping with one guy…it’s not like it’s the whole football team, right? It’s not like I am cheating on this guy with someone else, right? I love this guy, so it’s not wrong, right? It can’t be that big a deal in God’s eyes as long as I end up marrying this guy, right? This will be the last time, right?

Nothing changed. I just kept finding better excuses for what I kept doing. Sure, my conscience was getting louder and louder…but I still refused to change my life.

Then one night, everything changed. That night, in the middle of the night, I had a powerful experience that still remains a vivid memory. I am sure that it was a warning from God. He must have taken pity on my tortured conscience and seen some potential in a soul wounded by so much sin, indifference, and lies. I remember experiencing, for a dark moment that seemed like an hour, I felt true agony and despair. In that moment, I felt what it was to be unloved by God. I FELT a separation between me and God that was irreversible. Forget fire and brimstone, this is what Hell was like. I felt like I was a hole, surrounded by nothing. Something was missing from within me and something was missing around me…something central and irreplaceable….something I needed. I felt like I was trapped in some void. I don’t remember if my eyes were open or closed for this moment, but I remember seeing nothing but blackness. There was no color. There was no light. I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I felt nothing. I felt detached from the world, detached from my boyfriend sleeping beside me. I felt detached from everything, and yet, I felt an intense longing for what I was missing. This yearning would have destroyed me had it lasted longer. I knew instantly that God was that central element missing from that moment.

I don’t know how long I lay there, re-evaluating my past decisions, the lies I had accepted, the lies I had lived. However, I do remember, at one point, shooting up from my bed and going to the bathroom. There, I cried and begged God to give me the strength to do what I had to do. I knew that I would have to tell my boyfriend. I knew that I would be making some drastic changes to my life that would impact him as well. I was, however, afraid to love him. Still, there’s nothing like a warning from God Himself to help you overcome your trepidation. I resolved to tell him in the morning and I played the words I would need to say, over and over again in my mind. By the time morning came, I was still convinced that my boyfriend would leave me after I said what needed to be said.

Ladies, the moment my boyfriend accepted my decision to strive for chastity was the moment where I knew he truly loved me and the moment I realized that I truly loved him as well. Not all men would be willing to give up an active sexual life for their girlfriends. Then again, not all men are capable of truly loving and respecting the women they are with. On a similar note, not all men deserve the women they are with. Sometimes it’s tricky to tell who is who…but the selflessness my boyfriend showed is something I’ve never forgotten.

I can’t say that it has been an easy road for us, but it’s been worth it. The “Sex and the City” culture out there may tell you that you need a sex in order to enjoy a healthy relationship…but it’s a lie. There are far more important things to a relationship. I am living proof of this. Since I became committed to chastity, I’ve given up the pill, I’ve given up condoms, I’ve given up living under the same roof as my boyfriend, and I’ve given up sex. Giving these things up these things has made me more free than I was in the years where I was either a slave to third-wave feminist ideals, the years where I had to pop a pill every day at a certain hour, and the years where I had to rush off to a pharmacy for another pregnancy test. For the first time, in a long time, I am comfortable with myself. I don’t need sex to be empowered. I don’t care about the “perfect sex life” advertised by all those magazines. I don’t care about how “conventional” I am. Furthermore, I don’t have to worry about my health (cholesterol decreased, bruises gone, and migraines disappeared once I got off the pill). I don’t even have to worry about proving myself … I feel great, self-confident, loved, and happy. I feel like my conscience is at rest. I no longer have to play with the double-edged sword of moral relativism….nor do I have to continue debating with my conscience every time I see my boyfriend.

Since incorporating chastity into our relationship, my boyfriend and I have matured quite a lot. We are more empathetic and understanding of one another when it comes to particular matters (the small, but essential things that are often ignored in a typical relationship). We have grown to better understand one another and communicate with one another. We no longer have to worry about trusting one another. We have grown to better appreciate our time with each other. I know that I am happier with him now than I ever was before because I no longer feel the self-disgust and fears that I used to feel when we were sleeping together. I no longer feel many of the things that forced me to keep secrets from him and forced me to keep lying to myself.

It’s been quite a few years since I started tearing apart all of the lies I had been fed by all those “feminist” groups. In these years, I have come to learn quite a lot about myself and my boyfriend. He treats me with respect and selfless love, which is more important to me than the ideas of “sexual liberation.” Sex has become more than just a tool for empowerment or “something else to do when you’re bored.” It has turned into a beautiful act that should be cherished and saved for the right moment. There are few things that I regret as much as my decision to not wait until marriage. I can’t take this decision back, but I hope that some of you out there may learn from my mistakes.

How Great Thou Art

This past Sunday in Mass, the meditation song after receiving the Eucharist was How Great Thou Art. Immediately after it started I thought "Yes! I love this song!" I promptly found it in the hymnal with every intention to sing along. When I finally found the page, I opened my mouth to sing, but it wasn't words that came out of my mouth, it was tears coming from my eyes. "Why am I crying?" I thought. "This is a really powerful song, but I want to sing it!" And then it hit me, this song reminds me of Meemaw.

Meemaw is my maternal grandmother who passed away in 2008. She was the epitome of what a grandmother should be - warm, loving, caring, giving, joyful, gentle, faithful - I could go on and on. Meemaw played piano at her church for years, this was one of her favorites. I just knew she was up in Heaven playing it as we sang.

From that moment on, I sang when I could get the words out, but I mostly just remembered Meemaw. Our family gatherings are definitely not the same without her, but she is always remembered. For now I know she is enjoying constantly praising the Lord with all the saints and angels and sending down her love and encouragement.

Singing Christmas Carols

Cousins and Meemaw - June 2007

How Great Thou Art

O Lord my God! when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds Thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul! my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul! my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

And when I think that God, His Son not sparing,
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul! my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration,
And there proclaim, my God, how great Thou art!

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul! my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!