A reflection

In light of the many charged opinions about race, gender, religion, etc., the only loving response, I believe, to anyone who is suffering, is compassion.

Recently, I was reflecting on the story of Martha and Mary and Lazarus. I always stop when I get to the part where it says that Jesus cried with Martha and Mary over the death of their brother. I always wondered why He did that. What reason did He have to feel sad?  He knew what He was about to do. I came to realize, Jesus did not cry about Lazarus's death because He felt sadness for Himself...no, He cried because He allowed Himself to feel what Martha and Mary were feeling. He could have come to them saying, No no no! Look what I am about to do here. I am about to raise your brother from the dead! Or, He could have been very logical and practical about it, since He knows death is not the end. Instead of trivializing their sorrow, or trying to help them reason it out, He allowed Himself to mourn with them; to meet them in their sorrow; to have compassion.

Compassion and mercy are facets of love. And love is not blind. On the contrary, love sees everything. And in the face of this, love chooses to look beyond; it sees beyond skin color, nationality, profession, health, gender, age, wealth; even sin... it looks directly at the person, and sees not just one part of him, but all of him.
Compassion helps us to love others even when we do not agree with them; even when we do not understand them. I am not suggesting we throw logic and reason out the window, or that there is no right and wrong to be considered. Only that the first thought we should have is: how can I show love to this person? That is at the heart of the message of the Gospel. That is what Christ does again and again throughout Scripture. He eats with the sinners, befriends the lowly, accepts the rejected, mourns with the broken hearted. The only One righteous enough to hold judgement or condemnation over anyone is God, who intimately knows our hearts. And yet, He does not. He teaches us another way; the way of compassion and mercy.


8 Above all hold unfailing your love for one another, since love covers a multitude of sins. 1Peter 4:8

A post about having sons

Boys are a lot of fun. I have to admit, though, I didn't really see myself having a house full of them :) For some reason, I always imagined my first baby would be a boy, and lucky for me, he is! I have always loved imagining the relationship of mother and child through the images of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Infant Jesus. To me, that always conjured up feelings of the ideal motherhood. Of course, its not about gender, but that particular relationship always spoke deeply to me. This is in no way meant to under emphasize my girls, or my relationship with them. I LOVE my daughters and they will always hold a very special place in my heart (and I will hopefully be writing a post about having daughters later), but this post is all about the boys!

My oldest son is 11. I always hear people talk about how great it is to have a girl first and how much help they are. I am sure that is true, but all  I can speak about is having a son first, and that has been a wonderful dynamic to our household. He is 5 years older than his batch of little brothers, so he is more of a leader to them than a playmate. That being said, though, he is great at playing with them too. I am not sure if it is just him, or most boys who are first born, but Dominic is a very gentle and sensitive boy. He has so much compassion and is genuinely helpful around the house with chores, and little siblings.

The little boys are a different experience for me than Dominic has been, probably because they are the youngest, and all in a row. In general, boys are louder, more rambunctious, and more physical than girls. I didn't see that as much with Dominic, but with my little guys, that is so true! And after having so many of them, I am now certain that God decided to make little boys extra cute, in order to make up for all of their shenanigans :) There are so many times that I see them piled on top of each other in a "friendly game" of wrestling. I will never understand them, but perhaps that is one reason why I am intrigued by them. Often, I feel like I am dressing up superheroes all. day. long; or boosting their little egos by telling them how "big and tough" they are.

It is one of the most adorable and perhaps the most precious thing to me when my little boys act like they are big stuff, but in practically that same moment, need the comfort and protection of their mama. My sons hold my heart in a way no one else could. I know that one day, they will be too big to fit in my arms, but for now, it is the most cherished time of my day, when those "big and tough" little boys snuggle up to me and only find their comfort in my arms, melting me with their sweet and loving eyes and flattering words. Or when Dominic, out of the concern of his heart, goes out in the snow just to scrape the ice off my car when we have to go somewhere, or offers to carry my bags, or in many other ways treats me with such respect. I am so proud of him sometimes, that I think my heart might explode. To see him, now 11 years old, still so young, but growing more and more into a man, is truly a blessing and privilege.

For now, I am the one to whom my boys say "you look beautiful", and bring flowers to. They bring me so much joy and so much tenderness; I really had no idea how much of that would be found in the world of sons.

There is something very different and unique in the bond of mother and son. As a mother, I must continue everyday to allow them to grow, to remember not to hold on too tight, but at the same time, to continue to hold them daily, because while they need to have the room to grow, they also need that motherly tenderness in order to grow into the men they will one day become. Raising boys in today's world can be hard when there is so much confusion about what it means to really be a man. I am honored to be the mother of my 5 sons. And I am humbled that I, along with my husband, am called to guide these boys into adult hood, teaching them how to be men the way God intended men to be; like Christ, laying their lives down for others.

May the Lord guide us in this awesome adventure of raising these beautiful boys!!!

My mom

Joseph had surgery to remove his tonsils and adenoids this week. I was nervous leading up to the whole thing. Its a very simple and surprisingly quick procedure and also very common, and safe, as these things go. But, its always hard to put your children in the hands of another, especially in such a physical way, as a surgery of any kind. I had had it on my mind a fair amount, and so as we got closer to the day, I got more and more irritable and overwhelmed. There seemed to be so many little details to work out, and plan, and call about, and email about, etc. I know its mostly just my personality here, but I felt like my phone and emails were off the hook, and the weight of everything, at least within my little family, was resting on my shoulders. I know these things are always an opportunity too, for God to show His care for us, if we can simply give it to Him. And even though its like prying my fingers off of a railing that I am afraid to let go of, His faithfulness and care were demonstrated yet again, to my doubting and anxious self.

As it went, all of the planning that I thought was so important, ended up being unnecessary because all of the things the kids were supposed to do ended up cancelled due to the snow!  God showed me the beauty and simplicity of placing all of my plans in His hands, and trusting them to His care, without any anxiety or irritability, or worry... something I tend to be horrible at every.single.time.

The next thing God showed me, that often I unfortunately take for granted, is the love and care of my mom...

My mom and I, like any mother/daughter duo, have our differences. Sometimes, they are glaringly evident, and irritating to both of us. She is certainly not perfect, and neither am I! We are also very very much alike, and that too can be difficult in any relationship, especially when you see the very thing you struggle with, in someone you love. However, for all the differences and faults that we have (and there are many of them), she is the most sincere, generous, and caring person I know. She is fiercely loyal, unceasingly generous, and her feelings of love for her children and grandchildren know no ends. We don't always understand each other, but I can not ever doubt her care and love. 

Peter and I were both able to go with Joseph to his procedure, because my mom came over and watched all the rest of our kids for the day. I had a refrigerator/freezer stocked full of yogurt, pudding, jello, ice cream, juice, and milk so that Joseph would have plenty of things to choose from after his surgery. She made a delicious dinner for my kids, with plenty left over for us all, for dinner the next day. She has done things just like this for us when we have gone in to deliver each of our babies. Never does she make me or my family feel like we are burdens to her, or that she has other things she would rather be doing. She also works full time as a doctor, no less, and still it seems that she is always willing to help out in any way she can, even when she is  tired. I can honestly say, I do not know anyone else with that kind of loyalty, generosity, dedication, and care. This is really nothing new for her, but I think it struck a special chord with me, as it was because of her generosity, that my little boy could have me and Peter to himself and we could focus on him rather than the details of grocery shopping, cooking, and child care. Whenever someone does something so loving for my babies, it cannot go unnoticed or unappreciated by me :) It was such a gift...she is such a gift. I don't tell her that enough. In fact, I am really bad at telling her that. I need to change that. I am so very grateful for the gift that she is to me, Peter, and our kids. I pray that I will be as dedicated and generous of a grandmother one day...

Thank you, Lord, for my mom.

Joseph right before he had his procedure. He was very worried. 

Joshua was happy as a clam while he waited with us.

Joseph right after he woke up. He was doing well but very tired and no appetite. Its heart breaking to see your baby in pain. I would take it from him in a second, if I could.

Doing a little better today and getting a nap with baby Joshua.

My mom (Nony to my kids), with my brother, Johnny, celebrating Gianna's recent birthday!

Valentines Day and some catching up...

OK. So...I am officially the worst blogger ever. Its been 6 months since my last post I think. "Better late than never", is my moto these days. So is, "That'll do", and "Oh well." Does that sum up my last 6 months for you?

Enough with the sarcasm already! In all seriousness, life is really, really good. Its a real kind of good, where daily life is not perfect, my house is never clean, and I always run short on time, but I love my family and they love me, and God is good, all the time.

Yesterday was Valentines day, and although we usually don't do much to celebrate it, the day turned out exceptionally lovely. We started the day off with getting up too late for early Mass, so we decided to do a nice family brunch then go to the later Mass. It was a relaxing morning; just what we all needed after a very full and busy weekend. At Mass, Peter and I, along with the other couples there, got to renew our wedding vows, which was really sweet and just like the first time, minus the gaggle of children hanging on our arms ;)

My mom generously came over after Mass to watch all of our kids so Peter and I could go out for the afternoon. I usually take Joshua with me everywhere, as he is only (already!?) 8 months old and still only nurses, but we decided to give it a try leaving him home since we were only planning to be out for a few hours. I think it has finally sunk in that I really don't have a newborn anymore :(

As much as I love having Joshua with me, it was really refreshing and fun to be out and about with just Peter. We went down town Ann Arbor and walked around the Art Museum, then went out for Chinese food, and then picked up a coffee on our way home. At home, we did some fun sled rides with the kids, and after putting kids to bed, watched a show together.
It was unexpectedly a perfect day and the perfect way to start the new week.

Thanks for reading! Here are a few pictures from the last 6 months...

Lorien this summer, 2015

Boys helping Papa

Cutest Cowboy ever

Adorable

 oldest and youngest

Beautiful daughters, pretending to like each other ;)

Boys being their cute selves...always busy and always fun!

My crew on Halloween 2015

And dressed up again on All Saints Day!

Birth story

I have never written one of these up before, but I am going to give it a try with lucky number 7 :)

One of the reasons I want to share my experience of my seventh labor and delivery is that, from a practical sense, it was such a different experience for me and from a spiritual sense, it was balm to my anxious and weary soul. It was an unusual answer to a prayer I had prayed for many weeks before delivery.

Most of my pregnancy with Joshua was stressful. I had more morning sickness, aches, and pains than with my others, and as a family, we were under much more stress due to building and moving into our new home. Peter was busy with his full time career, and the contractor for the building of our new home. Both are full time jobs, not to mention a pregnant wife and 6 children, which is also a "job" in and of itself. He is amazing and works so hard for us and there is no doubt the whole process took its toll on him as well as me and the kids. As for me, I continued homeschooling our kids and doing what we do here, but it was much harder because, understandably, I had much less help from my husband than I normally do in pregnancies, and pregnancy is tough for me under "normal" circumstances anyways. As we approached my due date, our family as a whole was worn thin, and we were literally just surviving the days, one at a time. We officially moved in to our beautiful home when I was about 36 weeks pregnant. Still, there was and is, much to do. While we saw more of Peter, he was still extremely busy and stressed, and desperately wanted to have things mostly done, or at least at a good stopping point, before baby's arrival. At about 38 weeks pregnant, our family came down with strep throat. Almost the exact same scenario was beginning to play out as it had three years ago when I gave birth to Ezekiel (our fifth child), and became septic due to the strep throat that had been circulating in our family, but that I did not know I had as well. I had been tested and was negative, and yet, because of the fever and racing heart beat while I was in labor and which continued to worsen after delivery, the doctors and nurses knew there was something bad going on. I had a culture of the placenta and my blood done, which showed positive for strep A. I spent one night in the ICU, and then Ezekiel and I spent a week in the pediatrics side of the hospital treating him with antibiotics, to make sure he was healthy. Once we were both treated, we were able to go home, but it was not a fun experience, to say the least. That background set the stage for why I felt particularly stressed at the end of the pregnancy. My doctors/midwives decided that since things were so similar to that 5th delivery this time, it would be best to be treated with simple antibiotics, just to ward off an infection in light of my history. I needed to be given the medicine for 4 hours before delivery in order for it to be effective. That was a bit of a worry to me because I tend to have a lot of false labor and usually don't get to the hospital particularly early. Both Peter and I felt like we were on a deadline of sorts, both with the house, and also the fact that Peter's brother's wedding was the week after my due date; a wedding we all very much wanted to be able to attend, and that some of our kids were participating in. All of that on top of feeling like I needed to get to the hospital when I was in real labor but not too late, was enough to drive me a tiny bit crazy with the whole thing. The running monologue in my head became "Lord, I know Your timing is best..."
I prayed a novena to the Sacred heart of Jesus. Our baby was due June 12th, the Feast of the Sacred Heart. It seemed extremely appropriate and divinely inspired to pray to the Sacred Heart for all these worries that occupied my mind. I prayed for a peaceful, safe, and gentle labor and delivery and health for both baby and myself. I had a pretty good idea of how things would go, seeing as this was my 7th, and I felt a real and deep anxiety about it. I have a ridiculous fear of the triage experience, perhaps because every time before, we would get to the hospital when I would be in very active and painful labor, and I would be having trouble coping with the labor along with all the questions, blood draws, papers to sign, etc. I felt a great need to be blessed with peace about it all, this time.

I have never been late with any of my babies. But wouldn't you know, there is a first for everything :) On June 13th, I began having contractions again, but after 3 or 4 days of what felt like real, somewhat painful, timeable contractions for hours, and then fading away, I was getting more and more anxious. The contractions were familiar but different too, which is why I didn't want to rush to the hospital. Finally, after talking with my midwife, we decided that when contractions started up again, I should just come in and get evaluated. I really did not like the idea of being sent home, so I felt very apprehensive, but sure enough, when contractions started up on Saturday night, we called my mom to come be with our kids, and headed to the hospital. It was a very peaceful and painless drive, as my contractions had mostly spaced out and lessened, and by the time I was all hooked up in triage, I felt like an idiot because I was not contacting anymore than once every 20 minutes or so. And quite frankly, they were wimpy ones. However, in light of all my fears, I cannot complain, as this was the calmest most peaceful triage experience I had ever had. I felt ridiculous being that this was my 7th baby and I could not tell real from false labor and I was pretty sure we were getting sent home, but then my midwife checked me and said I was 5 cm dilated and that they would admit us to a labor and delivery room, get me started on the antibiotics,  let me walk around a bit to speed things up, and perhaps break my water if that was needed. To top it all off, they said I could get an epidural at any point. Things never got too bad after that. In fact, I got my epidural, and even rested for a couple of hours, as did Peter. We had incredibly kind and helpful nurses and a wonderful midwife. My midwife broke my water at 3:30 am, and 2 hours later, our perfect, healthy, beautiful baby Joshua was born. This was seriously the most peaceful and painless labor and delivery I had ever gone through. Like I said before, it was the balm to my weary and anxious soul. I was kind of shocked with how easily and well everything happened. I kept thanking Jesus for His mercy and His care for me and Joshua. He answered my prayers in His own beautiful and perfect way; a way I certainly did not expect. I felt so close to Him, knowing He was lavishing me with His love, and answering my prayers for a peaceful, gentle, and healthy labor and  delivery.

 Joshua Benedict was born June 14th at 5:29 am, 8 lbs. 8 oz. and 20 inches long. We are so in love with this new child. He has so many hands holding him all day long and so many people loving on him. He is blessed... as are we to have him in our lives. Thanks and praise be to God!!!