Words matter. And few words matter more than those we repeat over and over and over again. "Life is a gift" is used countless times by Catholics and by pro-lifers generally. I don't disagree at all with the sentiment, but I think we need to be aware of who it may not reach and who it may turn off. I'm reasonably certain that saying it to a woman who sees her pregnancy as a burden is not going to reach her. Maybe she needs to be listened to first, to be really heard regarding why she feels that her child is a burden. After the connection is made, after she feels understood, perhaps after asking what can be done to help, maybe then is the time to remind her that she has value, not just for what she does but for who she is, that her child has value, too. What are we saying to those whose suffering is so great that they simply wish for it to end, who see no other end but death? "Life is a gift." "All life has value." Again, both of these are completely true, but neither one is likely to reach someone lost inside their own suffering and pain. The source of the pain doesn't matter, it could be disease, disability, depression. What matters is only that the individual sees no other way out. Telling that person that they are valuable talks over and around them; it doesn't meet them where they are. There have been plenty of nights I have prayed to not wake up, to die in my sleep and not have to face it again. Someone who wants to escape from their pain and suffering doesn't need to be made dead but to be heard. Sugarcoating it doesn't help, either. There are plenty of times I have been told that it will look better in the morning and plenty of times when it didn't. Telling someone that it will get better when it might not isn't helping; it's setting her up for a bigger disappointment later. So often we try to tell people that it's not as bad as they think is, which is just denying their feelings and telling them to tune you out. It's more fair, more honest, more loving to admit "Yes, that really does suck. I don't know or understand it all, but I know you are hurting. I don't know why this is happening to you, and I can't guarantee it will get better. I love you, and I hate that you are going through this." And then we show it, by being there and loving the person in whatever way they need, whether a shoulder to cry on, a ride to chemo treatments, meals so that they don't have to cook... "Children are God's greatest gifts." (These words or similar words to that effect are part of the Protecting God's Children training process required to volunteer in any capacity in the Catholic church, but they are also repeated countless times in celebrating new life.) Yes, children are a miracle. Yes, children are an incredible gift. But the more we repeat that children are are God's greatest gift, what are we saying to those who can't have children, to those who are infertile, who are single, who married too late to have children? Children are God's greatest gift... (which you don't deserve) Children are God's greatest gift... (which you will never experience) What are we saying to someone who may not feel like her child/children are a gift? Children are God's greatest gift... (clearly you don't know what you're talking about) Yes, we need to promote a strong, clear message about the value of life. And yes, we need to fight a culture that emphasizes only the value of doing, that you are valuable for what you do, what you can do. But we can't just talk over and around people. We shouldn't tell people that they are less valuable because they won't ever receive "the greatest gift." Do we really need to say that one gift is greater than another? Should we next start ranking sufferings? You are more than what you do. You are more than your limitations. You are more than your pain and suffering. You are precious in His sight. You are loved.
Honestly it sounds more like an answer to "How old is he?" or "How far along are you?" than the answer to how long it takes to get a background check. But right now the FBI is taking about 20 weeks when you send them your fingerprints on a paper card. We pushed through mountains of paperwork, went through scads of medical tests, and have pestered friends and family to get references, all in the name of moving our home study along. The agency who will be doing our home study wanted all of it together, so once the giant heap of papers was done, I've mostly been waiting. Waiting and wondering and doubting - if this is truly what God wants us to be doing, shouldn't it be going better? Shouldn't we have peace and joy in our decision? Ironically, everyone else is beyond thrilled and excited for us. Realistically that's because they can simply focus on the end result; they don't have to worry about how long it takes for all these various steps or what needs to be done next. Most of the time I'm happy to answer questions and explain how we chose international adoption and Poland, but sometimes I have to admit that it's exhausting. Most people don't know anything about adoption or the different options, so they have a lot of questions. I want to answer their questions and help them become better informed, but it gets exhausting. So does the waiting and feeling helpless. It becomes far too easy to torture yourself with fears and hypotheticals with nothing to distract you. I've been trying to distract myself and keep busy; we're remodeling the bathroom. I'm going through and getting rid of a lot of stuff as I try and count down the weeks until Mr. Postman brings me my dream of completed background checks.
It was a reality show that did it - the most watched show ever. If humans would destroy even their own offspring simply for being inconvenient, what would they do if they found out about Thinking Machines? Surely with humans' history of abortion and genocide, the risk that they would decide Thinking Machines must be destroyed was too high; humanity must be eliminated. And that's how CTRL ALT REVOLT! by Nick Cole begins. I have to say that dystopian cyberpunk is not at all my usual bailiwick; with as little happy endings as I have in real life, I am a sucker for pitch-perfect, blissful endings. And while I don't mind a little darkness, I try not immerse myself in it for too long. I heard about this book while reading Larry Correia's blog (another author) yesterday and decided to look a little further. At the end of this post, Nick Cole has posted a three chapter excerpt of CTRL ALT REVOLT! After reading the excerpt, I found that I really didn't want to stop reading, so I bought the ebook. (I almost never buy ebooks - given a choice I will take paper any day.) But it's really only available as an ebook, so I was stuck. Less than 24 hours later, I've finished it; this book kept me wanting to know what happened next. The protagonists all had depth to them, but beyond that, I couldn't help but like the Thinking Machines. I certainly didn't want them to win, but I didn't want them to be destroyed either. I could understand their viewpoint and drive to survive; I'm not even sure I could argue with their analysis. I don't want give too much away or devolve into "unlikely band of heroes" tropes, so I will conclude by saying that I loved this book and am looking forward to sharing it with others, especially my husband. (Note: though there is definitely a strong libertarian viewpoint expressed in this book, it doesn't commandeer the story or detract from the action.)
To say that I'm not a SJW or a major proponent of PC is an understatement. However, I think there is something to be said for the concept of "othering:" making it clear that a person or group is not "one of us." Tonight I was treated to a prime example of it during a discussion with our pastor regarding all the clearances and steps required to volunteer. After being treated as guilty until proven innocent (if then) by our Safe Environment Coordinator, I contacted our pastor, expressing concern with how volunteers are being treated. If our goal is to encourage people to volunteer and be active, then, while we do need them to follow the required procedures, we also need to make sure to treat them with consideration and respect and not leave them thinking "Screw it! I have better things I could do with my time." When I expressed that concern, Father commented that most volunteers have been through it before, volunteering at their kid's school or coaching or whatnot. So... the only people who volunteer are those with kids? Or do you just not notice those without? It also happens when we talk about parish events. Though we say that a new family is created when a couple marries, what are "family" events? If your parish is anything like mine, "family" events center around activities for the children, with food and fellowship for the parents. Why would we go to Breakfast in Bethlehem? Is there truly anything for us at the Halloween Howl? No, I guess I'm not "like you." I am not the same; I am different. And it's not that different isn't okay, but do we make room for the other or do we try to shunt them off into tiny little silos? Yes, it's great that there is a Widows & Widowers group, but do we make room for them at other events? Do we encourage them and young families to mix and encourage and help one another? Or are they just stuck in their own little group, clearly "other," not "one of of us?" It's fantastic if your parish or diocese has an Elizabeth Ministry or Apostolate of Hannah's Tears, but do those couples without children feel welcome anywhere else? If they are only comfortable there, maybe at Mass, and the parish picnic, then we are failing. As Christians, there can be no "other." Galatians 3:28 makes that clear: "There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." (NIV) While we won't necessarily have that much in common with every single person, we must keep in mind that they are all like us, all sinners, all children of God.
This past cycle it was P+17. The one before that was P+18. During the P+18 cycle I had to go through the whole home pregnancy test (negative) and quantitative blood pregnancy test (which the doctor's office claim they never received the results of) rigamarole. Thanks to being on T3, I have been taking my BBT, which assured me that there was no way that I was pregnant this last cycle. But in my book, they both count as cruel and unusual punishment. If it were entirely up to me, post peak phases would be capped at 14 days if you weren't pregnant. And bleeding would have to start before noon. None of this checking all day, just to be devastated at bed time. And absolutely, positively no peek-a-boo spotting. (Is that pink? I think it's pink, but it might not be pink. Or the come and go type of peek-a-boo spotting where you might see it once and expect it to get heavier and it instead goes AWOL.) We're coming up on 5 years of trying to conceive; I've been around this block more times than I care to count. Until these last couple of cycles, 14 days post peak has been normal when I've been on HCG. I'll admit to being tired and running out of patience. But if I'm not going to be pregnant, can I at least get on with the next cycle? IF is enough of a roller coaster without ridiculously long post peak phases.
The radio DJ talked about buying an NFL team; my cousin and her husband are dreaming of buying an island. I won't lie - there are a few things I would love to do for myself, like remodel the master bath, finish the basement, and make sure we have enough money to replace our cars. And I would love to donate enough to cover the cost of the atrium to connect our church to the parish hall (not to mention fix the HVAC system!), as well as help out Siamese Cat Rescue Center, from whence both our beloved Bilbo and Biscuit came. But my real Powerball dream? I want to start a foundation with multiple branches. The first and probably largest branch would be the Infertile Catholics Aid Society, which would be a foundation that any Catholic couple struggling to afford licit infertility treatment or adoption could apply to for a grant. In addition to the application, I would require a letter from the couple's pastor and from the treating physician, for medical grants. For adoption, I would require information about their adoption plans. Realistically, some kind of financial disclosure would be required, but I wouldn't want anyone to tear their hair out over it. The question would be whether to simply issue high-value grants or to require documentation of expenses from those awarded grants. If the funds were just issued as grants, there would probably need to be legal form indicating that there would be legal consequences for misuse of funds. At least a small staff would be required, but I would want the decisions made a board including a priest, doctor, and individuals who have experienced infertility. The second branch would build and run residential facilities for pregnant and parenting college students, like Mira Via. While I don't have any statistics, it's not hard to believe that college women would struggle with an unexpected pregnancy. In that situation it would be so easy to believe that carrying the baby to term would mean the end of one's education and career plans. A place to live, support, guidance, child care, and other help could mean the difference between choosing abortion and choosing life. I would love to have facilities in Pittsburgh, Boston, Chicago... Really I would love to have one in every college town, but I'll start there. The purpose of the third and final branch would be education. Far too many women have no idea about their fertility. Based on the headlines and the pop culture news, you might think that you can have children into your 50s, or maybe even later in life. (Never mind that those women are using egg donors, which the headlines never mention.) I want women to make informed decisions about the best time to start a family. I want to encourage everyone to talk to their family about any family history of infertility. Husbandido and I made the decision about when to start trying to conceive not knowing about my family history; I though that we had enough time - and I knew more than many women. Age isn't everything, but it is important. I want women to be aware of the many different factors that can affect their fertility. What are your Powerball dreams?
2012 was the last year my extended family on my mother's side gathered at Christmas. With two infant members of the family it was guaranteed to be rough. Let's face it: babies always steal the show. Despite it all, I wasn't doing too badly until Sunday morning. The retirement community my grandmother lives at has a rotating set of ministers that lead Sunday services. (Mom's side of the family is Methodist.) My mother thought everyone was going to Sunday services. My parents, Husbandido, and I arrived a little late but found seats, only to discover that none of the rest of the family was there. Not finding Grandma or any other family members there set me on edge, then the title of the sermon put me on red alert, since it was "All About a Baby." I calmed down a little during the singing and the readings, but when the minister opened with "I don't even know if I should be giving this; it should be a woman who has given birth..." (It doesn't help that he's a terrible preacher.) He then launched into birth tales shared by his sister who was a midwife, and honestly, I could only take so much. I let Husbandido know that I was heading up to Grandma's apartment to see if that's were everyone else was. But at his opening statement, before I left, I thought about standing up. If I had stood up, this is what I would have said. "I have never given birth, never felt the joy at a baby growing and moving inside me, but even though my only begotten child never lived to see the light of day, I have something important to say about Christmas. Christmas is all about a baby. But Christmas isn't about just any baby. If all we wanted to do was celebrate the birth of a child, we could do that any day of the year. The birth of a child is certainly a miracle, but it is an everyday kind of miracle. Christmas is about so much more: Christmas is about the birth of a child the likes of whom the world had never seen. Jesus Christ, born to Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem, is the only child born who is fully human and fully God. God - a tiny infant, helpless. A tiny child who through His life would free all people from sin, who would ransom us from death. A child who through His humanity would claim us as brothers and sisters, no longer slaves. As we celebrate the birth of that baby, we must also remember the purpose for which He came and the price that He paid." In 2014 we were in Arizona for Christmas, and Husbandido and I attended Mass at Our Lady of Joy. If the homily had a title, it would have been "A Baby Changes Everything." The priest began by talking about how his niece and her husband had just had a baby and all the changes their lives were undergoing. He talked about them coming to visit all the family in Arizona and how the lives of the wider family were also changed by this baby. Eventually he brought it around to the birth of Jesus, and how His birth changed the world and how it is calling us to change. I have to admit that I wasn't paying quite as much attention as I could have been during that homily because I was bound and determined to talk to that priest after Mass. I was trying to figure out exactly what to say. When Mass was over, I steered Husbandido to the line to speak to the priest. When it was our turn to speak to him, I said "Father, it isn't just a baby that changes everything; the inability to have a baby changes everything, too. Would you please pray for all couples suffering from infertility and miscarriage?" One year I ran; two years later I spoke up. What changed? Certainly context, but also me. I can't say it hurt any less, but I can say that by God's grace, I was strengthened. I could speak up not just for me, but for all of us.
