“what did you cook during your first trimester pregnancy i just want to throw up when i smell food”?

That’s right. Mine.

Prayers for you, poor dear desperate pregnant mama, whoever you are.

It is not selfish for a poor mother of many to remain open to life. It’s heroic.

A woman who places her trust in God and accepts new life under less than ideal circumstances is being as generous to God, to her family, and to her community as she possibly can be.

Someone else, who has never had to decide between paying for a baby’s prescription and buying food for her family, might not understand this kind of humble heroism.

But Mary does.

At the annunciation, Mary did not tell the angel Gabriel that she needed to check her account balances and would get back to him about the whole baby idea. She just said yes.

Only someone who has never needed financial help could possibly think that anyone takes government assistance because it’s fun or because they’re lazy. People take government assistance because, for whatever reason, THEY NEED IT. They would LOVE to not need it. It’s embarrassing and humbling. It’s not selfish.

We shouldn’t be asking anyone why they need help. We should be falling over ourselves looking for ways to provide it. Where would you rather your tax dollars be spent — Planned Parenthood programs or some politician’s pet pork project?

We should be overjoyed that at least some small percentage of the money we pay in taxes is providing food and health care for families that need it. And if Catholic families with many children are some of the beneficiaries of that? Double bonus!

We need to be very careful when we talk about “responsible parenthood.” All too often, this phrase leads to the idea of preventing pregnancy as the default mode for Catholic marriages. In this way of thinking, couples must meet certain criteria, financial or otherwise, before they are “allowed” to have children. I can think of many words to describe this kind of thinking, but not one of them is “Catholic.”

I am convinced that women who accept new life when God sends it, planned or unplanned, have a special place in Our Lord’s heart. It is anything but selfish to imitate Mary’s “fiat” and her simple trust in God in such a humbling, self-giving way. It’s the stuff that saints are made of.

But to begrudge people the help they need to provide for their families while you yourself have been blessed with plenty? Now that would be selfish.

“God didn’t do it,” Georgianna says. “I’m angry, but not at Him. He didn’t do it. He’s right by my side, and Mary’s on the other side. When Liam got diagnosed, I said, ‘God, take my one hand. Mary, take the other. Walk me through it.’ If there’s anybody who knows how I feel, it’s them.”

Read the whole thing.

CORRECTION: It appears the couple has not left the Catholic church, but has only switched churches, from one Catholic parish to another — something that I did not understand in my first reading of the article. Thanks to Frances L. for sending along the confirming information!

Technorati Tags: pro-life, trisomy 18, prenatal diagnosis

I want to know exactly how a baby’s brain develops a deep sense of security and confidence in his own unique self worth when he is cuddled by an older brother while he reads his history book.

I want to see studies proving the naturally generous, cooperative, I-am-not-the-center-of-the-universe attitudes that are fostered among a gang of kids who must accommodate myriad mealtime preferences, compromise on story time choices, and share a single bathroom.

I want the stats on how a toddler’s stress levels are lowered when he shares a bedroom with a roomful of older brothers who read him stories, sing to him, and answer his every blessed question about bears and bumblebees until at last his eyes grow heavy and he drops off to sleep while listening to the sound of his oldest brother’s breathing in the bunk above.

I want scientific proof that mothers and fathers, when they face a not-specifically-planned-by-them pregnancy, are challenged to give up selfish inclinations and controlling notions of what their family size and spacing is supposed to look like. I want to see the studies that show how, when they ultimately embrace the unexpected, they grow in holiness, generosity, and faith. I want to quantify the value of their learning to trust in Divine Providence and to lean on God’s graces to help them through tough times. I want to prove that in the end they are better people — humble people who have grown in real holiness — for having remained open to life and generously accepted God’s plan for themselves and their families.

I want to quantify that kind of real growth, that kind of real work toward holiness, and that kind of blessing.

But of course you can’t quantify it. You can only live it. And I do.

Dear Greg,

Thanks so much for commenting on your blog about Do What Works Best for Your Family. I accept your comments in the spirit of charity that you intend and want to be sure you know that, while we may disagree, I recognize your good intentions and harbor no ill will toward you. I do, however, want to add a few different points:

To begin, I think I need to point out that no one is saying parents ought to do only what feels right or good. What we are saying is do what works best for your family, which is quite a different thing. It might feel good if I, as a homeschooling mother of 8, just sat around all day eating ice cream, but that would definitely not work best for my family.

I don’t know the science as well as you do and I won’t argue with you about cortisol levels. I will point out, however, that saints were raised for centuries before anyone even knew what a cortisol level was. I also do wonder if anyone has bothered to study the cortisol levels (or any other symptoms) of older children in large families who might be neglected, snapped at, or left to do too much for themselves too soon because their exhausted mother is focused on wearing, nursing, sleeping with, and otherwise bonding with the “baby” who needs her to keep his cortisol levels down.

I am not trying to be flip here. I have read and re-read and re-read again dozens of books on AP and ecological breastfeeding. Time and again I come away with the thought that these are high ideals and great ideas, but that people who are dogmatic in their promotion of them as “right” or “best” for everyone, especially Catholics, are blind to an entire segment of the faithful Catholic population.

Personally speaking, if I had had a baby only every 3-5 years or so, I would probably feels lots differently about the practice of AP. I have often felt that AP proponents and others don’t know what to do with families like mine, where, despite ecological breastfeeding, the babies come fast and furious and parents struggle to homeschool as well. They don’t “get” our experiences because they are not their own. They don’t “get” that AP might not work perfectly for different kinds of families because it has indeed worked very well for their own. “God does have a plan for our families!” I want to tell these leaders. “It’s just a different one from yours!”

You say: “More often than not, however, ‘Doing what is best for your family’ just means, ‘Do what comes naturally and feels right to you’ which is a perfect way to raise kids who exhibit the same sins and sinful tendencies that you do.”

I think you are underestimating motherly instincts and inclinations here. It has been my experience that a mother’s instincts or “feelings” do not naturally lead her toward selfishness and taking the “easy way out.” A mother’s natural inclinations are toward generosity and nurturing care for her offspring. Babies need to be touched, and mothers love to touch and hold their babies. Babies need to be responded to promptly, and every mother I know jumps at the sound of her baby’s cry or an older child’s “Mama!” Every mother I know wants to do what is best for her child, even if it costs her emotionally and physically.

But most mothers I know want what is best for all of their children, even the ones who have moved beyond the baby stage. A mother is only one person. She might have an infinite supply of love for her children, but I can attest to the fact that she does indeed have a finite supply of energy and patience, particularly when pregnant, and as a result she must balance her children’s needs — the older ones, the babies, the toddlers, and the unborn ones too. I think it is short-sighted to imply that this kind of “balancing” as it plays out in a faithful, large family is un-Catholic.

You say: “There are a million ways to raise a basically decent, grow up, get a job, and function in society kids. Personally, I think Catholic parents are called to do more than that. We called to raise (and be) saints. ”

Here I think you are implying that parents who don’t use AP are just shooting for the “bare minimum” and aiming to “get by” and I find that an unfair assessment. Good Catholics who do not use AP are aiming to raise and be saints every bit as much as the AP parents are.They are just called to do it in a different way — to imply that their way is less “Catholic” is wrong-headed, and I cringe at the thought of young, vulnerable mothers reading words like these and then beating themselves up in the future when they wind up doing what actually is best for their families.

You rightly point out that Catholic teaching on contraception might not “feel” good or right to some, but the fact is the Church’s teaching on contraception is clear and incontrovertible. Our Church, in her wisdom, has not given us such clear directives on co-sleeping, baby-wearing, bottles, or even homeschooling. There is lots of room for different styles of good parenting within Catholicism. To tout the benefits of AP is one thing, and to promote its use for the benefit of Catholic families is a very good thing indeed. We must be cautious, however, about placing a burden on all Catholic parents that the Church herself does not.

Danielle Bean

Feel free to continue discussing (nicely of course) below!

UPDATE: I’m all done with public discussion here, but you can read Dr. Popcak’s response over at HMS blog.

We have never officially called it co-sleeping with two babies, but we surely have had multiple children in our bed at night. Sometimes it’s nice and sometimes it’s … really, really not. They key is figuring out and doing what works best for your family regardless of what the books, the mothers-in-law, the friends, and other “experts” might tell you. You probably won’t know exactly how you will like multiple co-sleeping until it happens.

For now, I think the key words you have used are “I love this time.” If you love your current sleep arrangements you should not feel pressured change them in anticipation of the new baby’s arrival. Every baby, every toddler, every mother, and every father is unique. They all have different needs and different preferences. I would suggest you keep an open mind and remain flexible about your family’s sleep arrangements as you head into the coming months. You might all co-sleep and love it. Or you (or Dad) might find your sleep is too disturbed and you need to find ways to encourage the toddler to sleep on her own. Be open to doing whatever works best for your family – even if it’s not what you envisioned as “ideal” all those years ago before you had children – and it will work out best for your family.

First of all, can I just gush over you a bit? Your words have me smiling all over. Do you know how sweet you are? I suppose you can’t fully appreciate it while you are living it, but take it from me: You are incredibly sweet. What a darling wife and mother you are already.

Second of all, let me reassure you that your feelings are quite natural, loving concerns. It’s hard to see exactly how love multiplies instead of dividing before you’ve quite experienced it. But it does. I can distinctly recall my own sweet husband standing over the crib of our firstborn and announcing that he could never love another child as much as he loved her. Well, guess what? He now loves seven other children every bit as much. And I do too.

Have you talked to your husband about your concerns? If not, do so. He’ll be touched by your worries about his adjustment. He might give you some insight into which things you do that matter most to him so that you can focus your attention and let the rest go as needed. And you should also share the kinds of things you value about your relationship so that he can prioritize as well. That might get you through some rough spots.

Did I say rough spots? Yes, I did. Because no matter how thoroughly and lovingly you both prepare for your baby’s arrival, some rough spots surely lie ahead. Life altering experiences, sleepless nights, and hormonal fluctuations will challenge even the happiest of couples on occasion. But talking now about the stresses you anticipate will go a long way toward giving you some perspective in the heat of the moment.

After talking with your husband and physically preparing for your baby’s arrival as much as possible, try to relax and put the rest into God’s loving hands. He has wonderful plans for you in the coming weeks. And years. May he bless your family always!

Both. We’ve talked about being open to life here before and I would link to that thread if the site didn’t act all weird when I try to (not to worry — we are still working on that stuff). But my email tells me it’s time to do it again.

Is everyone called to raise a large family? No. Are there good Catholic families with small numbers of children? Of course there are. Are there parents of small numbers of children who long for many more but aren’t able to have them? Plenty. Are large families a sign of God’s blessing and their parents’ generosity? The catechism says so:

“Sacred Scripture and the Church’s traditional practice see in large families a sign of God’s blessing and the parents’ generosity.”
— 2373

When Scripture and tradition tell us that children are God’s blessings, shouldn’t we want an abundance of them? Of course Catholics may, for serious reasons, limit the size of their families through the use of Natural Family Planning (Read Humanae Vitae for the details of this Catholic teaching). However, through user error and through the natural challenges of periodic abstinence, even Catholics who use NFP generally are more open to life and more open to God’s will at work in their families than others. As a consequence, many faithful Catholics do have large families. This is not a mistake. It is a tremendous blessing. And an enormous responsibility.

I sometimes meet young moms of many-babies-in-a-row who are afraid. They lie awake at night figuring their future fertile years and fearfully calculating the number of children they could potentially produce within their marriages, and they are afraid. Because it’s hard work. Because they are exhausted. Because though they want to do God’s will, they fear the details of what exactly that might mean.

To moms who feel this way, I want to say this: Congratulations. You are normal. It is completely and perfectly normal to balk at such hard work and such a daunting task. Especially when most other people you know aren’t doing it. But if God gives you an awesome responsibility, he will give you awesome graces to go with it.

And here’s one more secret fact that’s hard to see when you are in the throes of young family life: It is quite likely that overnight you will go from counting the number of diaper changes that lie ahead and crying at the very idea … to wondering if your last baby might really be your last baby and crying at the very idea. Overnight you go from fearing God’s numerable blessings and taking them for granted to longing for just one more of them. Overnight. Early on, it’s natural to feel as though your fertile years might never end. But they do. And for some of us quite human people, it’s only coming close to the reality of that inevitable end that can make us see what blessings our children really are.

Updated again: Comments are now open! Feel free to share your charitably worded thoughts, experiences, and comments below.

I suppose Advent is as good a time as any to talk childbirth. Afterall, isn’t Mary fully pregnant and traveling toward Bethlehem on the back of a donkey right about now? So. Gentlemen (and any others who are so inclined) feel free to leave the room.

A basic message I have for first time mothers would be this: Take the classes, read the books, grill your doctors, talk to everyone you know who has ever had a baby and then come up with a plan that makes sense to you. Just keep in mind, though, that childbirth is not a skills competition, it’s not a toughness competition, and it’s not a test you need to pass. It’s a means to an end — and that end is a healthy, intact mother with a healthy, intact baby. That may or may no tmean having medical interventions.

That said, I think your goal of having as natural a birth as possible is a laudable one. Natural childbirth is my own preference and I have been blessed in being able to do that for my eight babies so far. Your reading and research will surely demonstrate that there are many natural childbirth methods and philosophies to choose from, but I have to tell you: For me, when it came down to actually being in laborfor the first time, all the books and methods quickly went out the window. In their place I did whatever felt right to me at the time. Out with the crazy breathing patterns and in with clutching my anxious husband’s hands and rocking in place through contractions! Have confidence in yourself and in body’s ability to labor. You don’t have to do things a certain way just because the books (or medical staff)say so.

I would further add that if you are having a hospital birth, you should be sure your husband knows your preferences and is prepared to encourage you when you feel weak as well as intervene on your behalf if necessary. A woman in labor can be rather a helpless creature. I distinctly remember being wracked with pain during intense contractions during labor with Juliette and having a nurse continually harass me: “I think you should use a birthing ball, no? Shouldn’t I get the birthing ball? Would you like me to get the birthing ball? Have you ever used a birthing ball? They’re great. Do you want me to get the birthing ball?”

I was in another world at the time. Birthing ball? What? I wanted to tell that woman what she could do with the birthing ball, but was unable even to speak. Never was I more grateful to my precious husband than when he finally said, “You know, I don’t think she wants the birthing ball right now.”

Ultimately, I would encourage you to do your research and have a detailed plan, but keep in mind that it all might need to be tossed out the window. Too many women wind up feeling like “failures” when their baby’s birth does not go as perfectly as they had planned. You might plan a perfectly natural water birth (Hey, maybe even with a birthing ball! Why not?) but in the end you might wind up accepting pain medication or having an emergency C-section.

Be prepared to be flexible, for your sake and for your baby’s.There is no failure here. If you make some changes to your plan along the way in order to increase your chances of a happy outcome of a healthy, intact mother with a healthy, intact baby, I’d call that a success.