Pregnancy Loss Resource: Grieving Together

Hello dear readers! It's been a while since I published a post and even longer since I posted regularly, but since this blog does get regular hits from women (and probably men) looking for miscarriage resources and support and companionship, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to share - and giveaway! - an incredible new miscarriage resource. I received a free copy of the book to review, but my admiration is 100% authentic.

In the five years since my first miscarriage, I've often thought of the books I wish had been written about miscarriage. I've really yearned for miscarriage books specifically from the Catholic perspective and there aren't many out there. I've wished for books about pregnancy after loss, ones specifically about recurrent miscarriage, and books that connected the Saints and their wisdom to pregnancy loss. However, one of the books I never thought about that (I didn't realize) I needed was one written by a married couple: Grieving Together: A Couple's Journey through Miscarriage.

Perhaps the most unique aspect of this book is not that it discusses marriage (though that too is novel), but that it includes a male author, a father's voice. Men are usually completely left out of the topic of miscarriage all together, something I quickly realized after my first loss. Written by Laura Kelly Fanucci and Franco David Fanucci, a couple who experienced infertility, miscarriage, and infant death together, Grieving Together finally addresses this deficit (and so much more).

One of the things I appreciate most about this book is that, though less than 200 pages, it covers a wide range of aspects of miscarriage, including not only grieving as a couple, but also the answers to many of the practical and spiritual questions about loss, for example: What is physical recovery like? What can you do to support a friend who lost a baby? Are miscarried babies in heaven? And it also has an excellent section on pregnancy after loss, satisfying my desire for a book on that topic.

I can't recommend this book enough for any Catholic couple who has lost a baby to miscarriage (and much of the book is relevant to any Christian couple). I could go on and on about the merits of this book, but I'll just leave you with this final praise, the email message I sent to author Laura Fanucci while reading my copy: "Laura, thank you so much for this book. It’s been almost 4 years and two healthy pregnancies and babies since my last (my fourth) miscarriage but for some reason the past month has been really hard. This been has helped heal some of the hurt I didn’t realize was still there. On two occasions, I’ve also come to bed to see my husband had snagged my copy off my nightstand and was reading it."

Grieving Together was released earlier this month and is available from Our Sunday Visitor and Amazon. You can also read more from Laura Fanucci at her lovely blog, Mothering Spirit. Excerpts of the book have also been turned into a free e-book, "How To Support Parents Who Have Lost a Child", a wonderful resource in itself.

If you would like to win this book for yourself or to give to a friend who has experienced miscarriage, please comment below with why you would want to win this book/what you are most interested in reading about in it. Please make sure to include an email address so I can contact you if you win. A winner will be randomly chosen on Dec. 6 (the Feast of St. Nicholas) so I can ship it to you in time for Christmas, since the holidays can be a particularly difficult time after losing a baby (even years later, Christmas is difficult for me without all my children here). God bless you and good luck!

The Child Lives: Wisdom from Mother Angelica (and some beautiful free printables)

When searching the internet for Catholic prayers and advice following a miscarriage, it's no mistake that one of the first things most people come across is this beautiful piece:

My Lord, the baby is dead! 

Why, my Lord—dare I ask why? It will not hear the whisper of the wind or see the beauty of its parents’ face—it will not see the beauty of Your creation or the flame of a sunrise. Why, my Lord? 

“Why, My child—do you ask ‘why’? Well, I will tell you why. You see, the child lives. Instead of the wind he hears the sound of angels singing before My throne. Instead of the beauty that passes he sees everlasting Beauty—he sees My face. He was created and lived a short time so the image of his parents imprinted on his face may stand before Me as their personal intercessor. He knows secrets of heaven unknown to men on earth. He laughs with a special joy that only the innocent possess. My ways are not the ways of man. I create for My Kingdom and each creature fills a place in that Kingdom that could not be filled by another. He was created for My joy and his parents’ merits. He has never seen pain or sin. He has never felt hunger or pain. I breathed a soul into a seed, made it grow and called it forth.” 

I am humbled before you, my Lord, for questioning Your wisdom, goodness, and love. I speak as a fool—forgive me. I acknowledge Your sovereign rights over life and death. I thank You for the life that began for so short a time to enjoy so long an Eternity. 

-- Mother M. Angelica

What beauty and truth that short piece contains! What consolation! What wisdom!

My generous and talented friend, Kendra Tierney (blogger at Catholic All Year) made a few printables from this lovely prayer and offered them to me to share with my readers. They would make a lovely image of remembrance in your home or a gift for a friend after a loss. I received a beautiful framed print of Jeremiah 1:5 ("Before I formed you in the womb...) from a friend following my second loss and it is a very cherished piece to me.

These printables are free for you to save and print. To download the high resolution image to your computer, click on it to bring it up in a new window, then right click on it to save it to your computer. You can then print them yourself or upload them to a print shop or website to have them printed in more professional quality. As with all the beautiful printables that Kendra offers, they are only for personal use or to give as gifts. If you use them on your own blog, please link back to this blog post or Kendra's blog, Catholic All Year. Kendra also offers customized printables of the prayer, quote, poem, etc. of your choice for only $10 so if you have another prayer, quote (or perhaps maybe the names of the child(ren) you lost) you'd like to hang in remembrance of your child, she's your gal. Click here to purchase your own commissioned printable.

Thank you so much, Kendra, for your generosity in sharing these beautiful images.

Small Catholic Family

The other day while searching "small Catholic family" in hopes of finding some encouragement or advice about raising a small Catholic family, I came across The Catholic Family Handbook, written by Rev. George A. Kelly in 1959. The entire text is available online for free here. (I haven't read it in its entirety so I can't vouch for its content.)

Here were a few snippets from the book that brought me some comfort so I thought I'd share in case they brought comfort to others too:

"Although the first purpose of marriage is the procreation of children, Catholic couples will not necessarily have offspring. There may be many reasons why they cannot have babies or why they are limited to one or two. Some wives have difficulty in carrying a fetus to full term and have many miscarriages. Sometimes the husband or wife may be sterile-- unable to do his or her part in conceiving a new life. There may be mental, eugenical, economic or social reasons which make it justifiable to practice the rhythm method. The fact that a Catholic couple has no children, therefore, is no reason for concluding that they are guilty of any moral lapse."

__________

"Considerations for parents of small families. If you have but one or two children, you should try to create for them opportunities such as exist in larger families to develop their characters. In particular, you should discourage selfish tendencies--a natural hazard in the small family. Since you can concentrate all your attention upon your child, you may tend to worry about him to a greater extent and to bow to his whims more often than do parents of a large family. There is a natural danger, therefore, that he will become accustomed to having his own way and will not recognize that others have desires which should be accommodated too. 

In training an only child, it may help you to remember that self-denial is the virtue from which other virtues spring. You should therefore strongly resist the tendency to do everything for him and not permit him to want for anything. So that he may learn to get along with others, encourage him to cultivate friends. Invite them to your home where he will be the host and thus must exert himself to please them. 

Finally, give him the freedom to develop in his own way. You must control the impulse to worry unduly about every ailment, to stand guard over him at play, to check up constantly on his teachers to make sure that they are doing their job right. Such actions would betray a tendency to interfere abnormally in your child's affairs. Unless you avoid them you may find yourself ultimately trying to dictate where he should work and whom he should marry, and you will make it difficult for him ever to make decisions for himself."

It was incredibly affirming to me to see these included in a Catholic book for families...from 1959! I would love to see more resources for Catholic parents of small families - both in terms of spiritual encouragement and practical advice. Maybe there are resources like that out there already and I just don't know about them yet? 

a small faithful family indeed

On Loss and Marriage

A couple weekends ago, my husband and I headed up to the mountains for our fifth anniversary. It was our first getaway as a couple since our honeymoon. It was perfect. We stayed at a darling bed and breakfast, ate way too much good food, and did not much else. Throughout the weekend, I constantly came back to the thought that this was really, really good for us. It's important for all married couples to have times of relaxation and enjoyment together, but it struck me as especially needed for a couple who has undergone difficult emotional trauma.

Couples who have gone through the loss of a child (pregnancy loss included) have a much higher divorce rate for a reason. After our second loss, I found myself utterly surprised by how altered our marriage had become. I found myself avoiding my husband because he had become a reminder of the pain of our losses. I couldn't even look at him without the sharp reminder of the babies we lost. There was a part of me to felt that it would be easier if we were no longer together, if I no longer had him around as a constant reminder. If we went our separate ways, it would would be so much easier to pretend our losses never existed, and without that constant reminder, then maybe the pain would be a little less.

These were all fleeting thoughts, of course, nothing I ever dwelt on. And they were most certainly lies. The pain of separating from my husband, the only person who knew and loved the children we lost as intimately as I did, would have only brought more pain to our losses. (Not to mention the pain it would bring to our living child, to our families, and to every other aspect of our lives.) No matter how much I tried, no matter what lengths I would have gone through, it would have been futile to try to ignore the pain of our losses anyway; it's much healthier to confront and heal that pain and we could only truly do that together.

When I think of the short lives of four miscarried children, I want them to have meaning. I want them to, despite the pain of loss, bring good into the world and that starts right here with their family. What good would come from their short lives and deaths if they put a wedge between their parents?

Looking back at the most difficult points of our marriage after loss, it's so very clear how Satan uses our times of pain and weakness. Christian marriages are reflection of the beauty and goodness of God. The procreative aspect of those marriages is a very visible sign to the world of power of love. When something goes wrong with the life-giving element of marriage (be it infertility or loss), doubts creep in as to the validity of the marriage, or if not the validity at least the value.

And then there is the guilt. One member of the couple usually feels all the weight and blame of loss and fertility issues. Even when there is no no firm diagnosis, the woman usually pulls the guilt upon herself. It's hard to bridge that gap, to feel like infertility/loss is happening go both of you together instead of one of you pushing it upon the other. It's easy to believe that you are at fault, preventing your partner from having the children they deserve, wondering if he isn't better off with someone else who can give him living children. Humans are bodies and souls and as much as we'd like to separate our spiritual life, the brokenness of the body can often lead to brokenness in the soul.

Four losses in less than a year and a half. Surgery. Another pregnancy. I wish I could say that this pregnancy has helped to heal our wounds, and I'm still hopeful that after the birth of our child the healing will come, but so far it's only seemed to deepen them. Or at least call attention to them in a way that is no longer possible to ignore. The wounds are still there, but our approach is different. We're no longer pulling away from each other, but turning toward one another in our sorrow. We grieve differently, my husband more stoic and silent, my tears and pain more visible and vocal, but instead of letting those differences pull us apart, we're learning to care for each other's individual needs. I feel guilty that my body failed to nurture our children, David feels helpless as he watches me continue to go through trauma he would do anything to relieve. Together we're working on finding other fruits and creative outlets for our marriage, so that it's value doesn't hinge solely on our fertility.

As we sat up in our room the mountains, we talked about our favorite moments and the blessings of our first five years of marriage. The conversation was more somber than we would have ever expected it to be. Between mentioning milestones and cherished memories, there were long pauses where we silently thought about the sorrows and struggles which, at least numerically, outnumber the hallmark moments. But reflecting on those difficult times gave us the ability to rejoice in the strength and durability of our marriage, the flexibility we'd found and the lessons we've learned. We understood the importance of leaving room in for God (and for heartache and tragedy and time to rebuild) in our future goals, of setting priorities instead of milestones, and thinking eternally,

NFP Has No Place in Paradise

It's Natural Family Planning Awareness Week and I didn't really think I'd have much to add to the conversation. The Catholic blogging world is already saturated with posts about NFP this week and I've read many, many wonderful posts on every angle of the topic in the past. My experiences are unique (aren't ours all?) but not necessarily anything completely new or different. But to do my part, I wrote this post on Facebook yesterday to share my perspective and as I was writing it, for the first in my life it occurred to me exactly why NFP is so difficult - because it was never part of God's original plan.

You see, in the perfect world God intended - the world without sin or suffering - NFP doesn't have a place. The situations that make postponing a pregnancy necessary - physical and mental health issues, financial concerns, marital problems, lack of support system, etc. - they wouldn't exist. And fertility problems that require couples use NFP to become pregnant, they wouldn't exist either. There simply would be no need for Natural Family Planning. It's not the default for human beings as God designed us. But it's there because we live in a flawed world; not the natural order of things but a gift given to us by God to help us cope with our imperfect situations in an imperfect existence.

Many people need NFP for one reason or another, and I am incredibly grateful that it exists for those situations. For most of our marriage, we've used NFP. When we got pregnant with Lucia in 2011, my husband and I had hoped we'd never use NFP again. We looked forward to the idea of our family planned completely on God's timing, of never looking at a chart again, of being genuinely surprised (but not too surprised) by a new pregnancy. But then we went through a period of unemployment. Followed by miscarriage after miscarriage. And then my current bout of prenatal depression and anxiety (yes, it's back). And it seems that for the rest of our childbearing years we'll always have one reason or another to use NFP to either avoid pregnancy or help us decrease chances of future miscarriage. That's a tough pill to swallow.

Yes, the day to day practice of NFP can be difficult. But the emotional strain is even harder because it reminds us of the brokenness of our world (and my body). My chart is a symbol of how far we are from Eden. For all that people talk about how wonderful NFP is for marriage and communication and knowing your body and (fill in the blank), the truth is that if all were as it should be, we simply wouldn't need it.

NFP strikes me as similar to a cancer treatment, let's say chemotherapy. Of course, it's not poisonous or painful like chemotherapy (NFP is green! And completely natural! No physical side effects!), but bear with me. The only reason chemotherapy exists is to combat cancer. Those who have cancer (and their loved ones) are grateful it gives them the opportunity to fight the cancer, but they'd rather they didn't need it in the first place. My family has had several extra years (and hopefully many more) with my 84 year old grandfather because of two rounds of chemotherapy. But the chemo itself took its toll on him and is a reminder of the brokenness of his body, the unnaturalness of the cancer that necessitated it in the first place. I wish there was no chemo because I wish there was no cancer. Actually, I suppose that's how we feel about most medication. I'm grateful to God for well-trained doctors and medical researchers who allow us to combat the illnesses of the mind and body, but I'm still sad and bitter that we even have illnesses we have to treat.

So too with NFP. It's not a good in and of itself, but the best response we have to the evil in our world. I wish we didn't need it. I wish we lived in a perfect world where the circumstances were always perfect for more children to be welcomed and everyone had normal, healthy, functioning fertility. Since there is a need for NFP, I'm grateful it's there. But even if I appreciate it, I don't have to like it. It’s ok if it doesn’t feel natural and beautiful and effortless, because it’s simply not how it was meant to be. 

The Other Side of Life

This beautiful guest post by my friend Molly was originally posted on my old blog in December 2013. A perfect fit for the focus of this new blog, I thought it was time to give it another look.

__________

This year has been rough.  Since April of 2013 I have been pregnant twice.  I have gone through almost two complete first trimesters even though neither of my children ever developed far enough to have a body.  I have gone through a prolonged miscarriage that ended in an urgent D&E that shook me to the core and a natural miscarriage that is my new rock to stand on.

I’m not writing today to tell you about those experiences, the events or emotions that have led me through this year.  Right now, as I impatiently wait for my HcG to finally disappear from my natural MC only a few weeks ago, I want to tell you about the flip-side.

I’m a Catholic convert, and yes part of that process has been developing and making peace with what is often called married couples “openness to life”.  I’ve learned charting and more about my bodies signs, symptoms and patterns than I ever knew existed.  My husband and I try our best to approach our family life in a way that makes sense in combination with our religious teachings.

When you talk about a Catholic being “open to life” the first image folks normally see is a large family; a never-ending stream of close in age children.  When people first start approaching Catholic teaching on the subject of their fertility and family planning that is all we see.  We come to grips, or not, with the idea that being “open to life” means that we’re going to be the clown car family of constant pregnancy and birth.  After all, all good Catholic families are large. 

Right?

In many cases, yes; I definitely have my share of friends with five or more children and in some cases the oldest isn’t even ready for first grade.  But, there’s a side that’s not as well considered in the “open to life” discussion.  We work hard to teach our new couples to budget, work hard, and live thrifty lives to support those broods that might be just around the corner and all the time we forget that for every light there is a dark.

The birth of my son almost three years ago opened my eyes to what it means to be open to life.  It radically changed my outlook on how I considered my children and the things that might get in their way of a normal life and development.  It wasn’t long after he was born that I told my husband point blank that every child I conceive will be given the best chance we can make at being held and told “I love you”, no matter how long that time lasts.  I felt like I understood what it meant to be “Open to Life”.

The deaths of my two children this year showed me otherwise.  As I sat in my bedroom recovering from my natural loss a few weeks ago I realized this.  Being “Open to Life” isn’t just about learning to chart, discerning good times and learning to anticipate and sacrifice for a baby boom. 

It’s a willingness to be disappointed.

It’s a willingness to wait to get excited.

It’s a willingness to say goodbye.

It’s a willingness to be scared and frustrated and mad and every emotion other than joy and happiness.

It’s a willingness to accept what you’ve been given even if it’s not what you want.

I do not know what the future holds for my family.  There’s a chance that three is our perfect number, and there’s a chance that the third time will be a charm.  I’m nervous and I’m uncertain, but I know so much more of this call to Life.  Because it is not just a call to Life; it is a call to Life, Loss and everything in between. 

The past year was the “Year of Faith” in our church and I’ve reflected, often bitterly, about the irony of it being a “Year of Faith” during the year that has really tested mine.  But, I’ve learned and I’ve grown.  My faith has been tested and my faith is stronger.  Being open to life encompasses it all – life, love, loss, joy and tears – but the other side of Life is not death. 

In the words of St. Teresa of Avila –

“To have courage for whatever comes in life – everything lies in that.”

The other side of Life is Faith, and everything lies in that.

Molly W is a Catholic wife and {working} mother to one amazing preschooler and three souls in heaven.  She loves book-lists, backyards, and the BBC, but not necessarily in that order  She writes at Molly Makes Do about bringing a love of Learning, a love of Life, and a love of Faith into her home.

After Surgery

On Friday, I had a hysteroscopy and laparoscopy to look for the cause of my recurrent miscarriages. My doctor found extensive endometriosis and was able to remove most of it. After the surgery, he commented to my husband that he was surprised I had even been able to get pregnant with how much I had.

Since informing friend and family, I've been asked several times how I feel about learning I have endometriosis. Some have assumed I'd be quite jubilant because We have an answer! And the doctor removed it! Others assumed I'd be quite depressed about the news because Endometriosis is a life long struggle! It comes back! Those conclusions are both quite apt. I'm feeling a lot of mixed emotions.

I'm trying to be really optimistic about it all. I am glad we have an answer but there is truly no way to know if endometriosis caused my losses or is just one of several reproductive issues I face that have combined to cause four losses.We are hopeful that this was the missing puzzle piece and that our next pregnancy will carry to term but I have to keep in mind that this might be just one piece in a still incomplete puzzle.  We initially thought low progesterone was the cause and naively assumed that progesterone shots would result in live babies. They didn't. So, while I hope this is exactly what was needed, I must also remind myself that conception and pregnancy is an extremely complex process in which so many things must go right (and therefore so many things can go wrong) in order to have a living child at the end.  Even if endometriosis caused all my previous losses, something completely different - genetic abnormalities or whatever - can cause the next pregnancy to end far too early. In this world of modern medicine, it's tempting to think that we can control nature and the human body through medicine. But we can't. I imagine any doctor can tell you. We can often work with nature, but we cannot control it outright.

But even if we knew for sure that the cause of all my heartache was endometriosis, that diagnosis is scary enough. It will come back so it's something that I'll always live with and something that will always threaten my fertility and babies in utero. I worry that I won't realize it's growing back until it's caused another loss or two. I didn't have many of the typical symptoms of endometriosis, so the losses themselves were really the only reason to suspect it.  

I was hoping it was something else with a more permanent fix, though certainly it's much better that having no answer or one with no treatment at all.  Endometriosis is not a very unexpected diagnosis. A gynecologist offhandedly told my teenaged self that I most likely had endometriosis and would never be able to have children (thank goodness she as wrong about that second part).  My doctor expected he would find some and the NaProTechnology website states, "In women with repetitive miscarriage, 85 percent will have endometriosis."  So, not a surprise, but also not a reality I was willing to face or think through until I got the final verification. And my doctor gave me some lovely pictures of my endometriosis-riddled insides so there is no denying it now.  

I feel like I'm facing an important decision: how do I react to this news? Do I put all my fears aside and choose to see this as an opportunity to trust God? Or do I wallow in the fears of what is to come? Certainly I don't think endometriosis or miscarriage are God's doing, but I do know that, if you let Him, God can bring goodness and beauty out of anything. Even the ugliness of organs scarred (and adhered together!) by endometriosis. That, my friends is disgusting to look at (what exactly am I supposed to do with those pictures anyhow?) but God is working in me to bring goodness out of it all. Even if we don't have more living children. And I'm starting to be ok with that - a future filled with God's goodness and beauty, a future of meaning, a future as just a family of three.

What is Good, What is Difficult

Hallie Lord wrote this piece a few days ago saying it's ok to when you have mixed feelings about pregnancy. What bravery it can take to admit within Catholic, pro-life circles that each new baby is not immediately met with joy and nothing but joy. This adds another valuable piece to the discussion on pregnancy started recently by this article discussing the importance of acknowledging the struggles of pregnancy.

Perhaps the question that most deeply reaches the root of these issues is Why are we afraid to admit that things that are the most good are often also the most difficult? It seems almost obvious that anything truly good would require sacrifice; Satan certainly does not want us to do what is good and therefore will confound our efforts in every way. Things that are bad, well, those seems to be so easy. For a reason. Don't underestimate the enemy. He is cunning. This world has been corrupted so that sin easily flourishes and those who do the will of God have an uphill battle.

I worry that some Christians hope to share the faith by portraying it as a pathway to obtaining your hearts' desires. If only you follow, Christ, they say, you will be happy! All the time! Life will be easy. Prayer and true faith will wipe away all your burdens. We have to be careful to acknowledge that while Christ is the source of joy, we are not promised earthly happiness or a lack of suffering. We have only to look at the lives of the Saints for confirmation of this. There are Saints who suffered painful diseases, the murder of spouses, the death of young children, rape, abusive marriages, and torturous deaths. If those men, women, and children, the exalted examples of faithfulness, experienced such suffering then surely Christian faith is not some magic charm that repels all bad that might befall us. I cannot imagine the Saints in their midst of their suffering would be described as "happy" in the earthly sense, but joy - oh they exuded the joy of Christ even then!

Many people ask what we need to do to attract young people to the faith. The answer is not to make faith fit effortlessly into their lives by making it easy. I drive by a church with a sign that proudly proclaims, "Like to sleep in on the weekends? We make church convenient for you!" People aren't looking for a faith that is convenient so they can go on living their lives exactly the same. They are looking for a faith that radically changes their lives and challenges them. Young people are searching for something and an easy religion that asks nothing of them doesn't fulfill that longing. They are not looking for a "safe faith". Christ said, "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me." A tall order, but how can we do great things of great things are not asked of us?

"Safe?" said Mr Beaver ..."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”-C.S. Lewis, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe 

It is not love to only share part of the Gospel, the sanitized, safe little story of a God who loves us and wants us to be happy. We must authentically share the faith and in order to do so, we much acknowledge that with the joy of Christ also comes our individual crosses, some of them quite heavy. How much more powerful is it to share the stories of Christians who have suffered greatly, even died for their faith, but loved God so much through it all, than a story of a perfect little life in which Christianity was easy. I'm apt to believe that the early Christians flocked to the faith because they saw how powerful it was - people were ripped to shreds by lions in the arena for their Christian faith, and with a smile on their faces and songs on their lips! If they were looking for something safe and easy, Christianity would have been the last thing they would have chosen. They weren't looking for easy, but for Truth! How ineffective in comparison is a faith practiced by those who are blessed all their lives. That god seems nothing more than a genie, a wish-granter. How easy it must be to love a sweet, kind god who makes your life perfect! There's an appeal there, of course, but since all of us will experiencing some suffering in our lives, it's easy to lose a faith based on a god who grants earthly happiness to his faithful. That is a faith built on straw, with no basis in the scriptures. Instead, we must teach a faith built on rock.

In our faith, the faith built on Peter, Christ's rock, human life is greatly valued. A new pregnancy and a new child are always good. But not always easy. There is no reason for guilt in acknowledging that. In fact, by doing so, we are elevating human life even more - how valuable is a new life that we are willing to endure great hardship to bear it! Therein lies a truth that our Catholic ancestors knew quite well and embraced much better than we do today, that Christian life is demanding and that those very demands are what set us apart and demonstrate to those around us the greatness of our God.

,

Creating Space

It's been over a week since we've returned from our trip and I'm doing pretty well. Today my daughter, out of the blue, told me I'm, "full of joy" and since little kids are very perceptive, I'm taking her at her word. I have felt joy returning over the past week.

One of the things I've done that has been most helpful in healing has been ridding our home of baby and maternity items. I started the process a while ago and have slowly been giving away what we've accumulated, but in the last week I've finally gotten rid of the last of it and it feels so good. I've been thinking about why it's been so therapeutic for me and I've come up with the following (myriad) reasons.

The very obvious, practical reason that this has been so great is that there's so much more space! The fervor to get rid of baby things has also sparked the desire just to get rid of all things and we finally have space in our small townhouse. There are no longer boxes and junk lying around. Our closets aren't filled to the brim with things we may or may not ever use, but are instead organized with things we do use. I do so much better in uncluttered space and so fixing my physical surroundings has such a positive affect on me emotionally and psychologically.

Clearing our space and making our home more comfortable is something I can do as a wife and mother to benefit the lives of my family right now. Instead of saving things for children we might have and cluttering up our lives in the meantime, I'm taking care of my family right now. And that is so, so good for me. If these losses have taught me anything, it's that I must strive to do my best as a wife and mother in every moment, not just prepare for a future in which I will finally be at my best. As I've mentioned previously, I need to feel useful right now and this is useful.

Giving away our useable items makes me feel useful to others as well. Most of Lucia's clothes and many of her baby items have gone to my sister-in-law for my niece, but I've also been able to bless women from church and random strangers with baby and maternity items they need. It feels so selfish to stockpile them when there are people who need and can use them right now. Giving them up helps me to focus on others and to have perspective. One of the lines I pray every day in the Litany of Humility is "That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grand me the grace to desire it." This one line never fails to be the one that stands out to me, that targets me especially. Right now, I have not been chosen to carry a child to term. I have been set aside, at least for a time, but I must still use this time to serve the Lord, which I can do by helping those who God has chosen.

Another spiritual fruit of the baby product purge is that it is teaching me to rely more fully on God to provide for my needs. I tend  to hold onto something if it might ever be used again. In that way, I learn to rely on myself to provide for my future. By getting rid of the baby things I not only rely on God to provide us with a living child, but I also rely on Him to provide us with what we would need to raise that child. It's much easier to pray "give us this day our daily bread" and really mean it if you don't have a cupboard full of food to last you days, weeks, or even months. I put much more trust in God when I no longer stockpile for myself and instead give the goods we have to others.

I also realize that when I give away our baby and maternity things, I am helping do God's work in providing the "daily bread" for other families. When we pray to God to answer our prayers, it's much more likely that He'll answer them through other people then by dropping a baby buggy straight from heaven, a miracle I have yet to hear of happening. It is good to prepare yourself financially and be economically frugal, but there's a point where that gets in the way of doing God's work and starts to become working for yourself. I can no longer justify holding onto baby things for years when I don't need them and there are others that do. I trust that if and when we have another child, others will be generous to us as well, and that we'll have everything we need.

I started giving away our baby and maternity stock because it was too hard to be surrounded by constant reminders of our failed pregnancies and dissipating dreams. I was shocked to realize just how healing the process was for me. Most of all, it enabled me to imagine a life without more babies. Everyone deals with loss differently and for some it may be more beneficial to always have hope for more children and therefore to continue to hold onto the baby things; but for me, it's helpful to be realistic and the truth is that I may or may not have more children. I imagine that statistics are in my favore and that we will most likely have more children through pregnancy or adoption. But I need to be able to acknowledge that there's also a chance that we may not have more children and the odds of that happening are higher for me than for the average woman. I need to build a life and imagine a future that is happy and hopeful and beautiful even if it doesn't include more children for us. So by letting go of this material reminders, we not only give ourselves more space in our home for the things that matter right now, I also give space in my head and my heart to imagine a blessed life as a family of three.

Contemplating depression, faith, loss, and hope in the new year.

Yesterday, I spent hours crying. 2014 has been a horrible year for us and I'm certainly not sad to see it go, but when I tried to imagine 2015, I just couldn't muster up anything but thoughts of the upcoming due dates and first birthdays that will haunt us. (One each in May, June, July, and September make the middle of the year particularly dreaded.) Also, the knowledge that 2015 won't bring us the birth of a child seems to strip it of hope.

But after a few hours of crying for the babies we'll never meet, I felt a bit of a relief and room to think in a more positive light. The past week has been extremely trying and probably even more difficult than any of the days I've actually miscarried or the due dates we've struggled through.

I struggle with depression even during the best of times. Days in which we have nothing but blessings to be grateful for, I still fight despair. So when we have moments of incredible grief and hopelessness, my depression is truly unbearable. Since my first miscarriage, I've also struggled with nightmares which make sleep nearly impossible and anxiety that has only increased with each subsequent loss. Obviously, the few months after each loss are the hardest and then things get back to being very manageable. But I always have to be very vigilant to get have a very regular daily routine, eat well, take my vitamins and minerals daily, (try to) get adequate sleep, and plenty of sunlight.

This past week has been the perfect storm - a recent loss (with both the grief and hormonal instability that accompanies it), the holidays (which make even a more distant loss more difficult), and being away from home which makes it nearly impossible to keep up any sort of routine, eat healthfully, exercise regularly, etc. Just realizing that how I'm feeling is the result of so many outside factors has been such a relief and allowed hope to creep in. I'm very confident that once we get back home and can control several of these factors, that the deep despair I'm feeling will melt away.

Sometimes, at times like this, I begin to blame myself for not trusting God enough, for not being faithful enough, or having a better relationship with God. I read stories of people who've struggled with mental illness or eating disorders or substance abuse who are suddenly "cured" when they come to know God. But I know that's not how it works for the most of us. There are Saints - Saints! - who struggled with these issues all their life, who knew God profoundly and served Him well, and never escaped these afflictions. These issues are real physical and psychological ailments that cannot be healed simply by loving God and feeling His love for us, at least no more than someone with a chronic illness will be healed simply by faith - sometimes miraculous healing does happen, but most often, we're left to nature and the natural weakness of our bodies and minds.

My relationship with God is stronger and deeper than it was before my first miscarriage. Each subsequent loss has brought me closer to Christ. I don't believe that God caused my miscarriages in order to bring me closer to Him or to make me into a more humble person, but that is what has happened. (I thoroughly believe the cause is something natural and God simply allowed it to happen, as He does with most of nature.) I believe that He is able to use all things for good and He has worked in me through our heartbreaking losses. By allowing Him to do so (for you have to give Him that invitation), I am able to be a sign of my children. They may not be visible to this world, but their existence has meaning if I let them transform me into who God created me to be. Obviously, I am no Saint. I have a long way to go. But I am closer to holiness than I was before they were conceived. And so I know that this depression is not a lack of faith, because I have grown in faith even during the most extreme periods of depression I've ever felt.

It is Satan that tries to make me feel like my depression is due to my spiritual failings. And I know I cannot give into him, for if I did, I am sure I would lose my faith. Though certainly I hope that someday I'll be cured of depression and anxiety, I assume that they will be burdens I will carry with me my entire life. And if I were to go through life thinking that if I were only truly faithful to God, if I only really believed, if I only prayed more or did X better, I would be cured, I would go through my whole life feeling like a failure. Nothing I would do could ever be good enough because mental illness is not simply a matter of faith. And at some point, I would break, give up, turn my back on God. But the truth is, it is only God who can free me from this, if not in this life, then in the next, when our bodies and minds will be whole. In the meantime, I need Christ with me to help carry this cross. I need to unite my suffering with His so that it has meaning, so that it bears fruit.

I walk daily with these crosses of depression and recurrent pregnancy loss. Sometimes they seems so cruel. Sometimes I cry out to God, "Why do you allow repeat miscarriage to happen to someone who already struggles with depression?" Because certainly, it's easier to deal with either one or the other.  But there are no answers, and as of yet I've been able to cope. I've been given the graces to survive this, even if it seems like I'm only barely surviving. Some days I'm even able to look to the future and say, I can do this again. We can try to get pregnant again and if we miscarry again, I will survive, and not only that, it will be worth it.  Other days, I struggle with how to just make it to tomorrow.

Every morning I wake up needing time to pray and to rework through these thoughts. To remind myself that I am strong and that I have Christ beside me. To remind myself that my depression is separate from my faith. To remember that my depression will get better and I can take steps to control it. I think about the children I've lost and how much I love them and how their short lives were purposeful. And I thank God for my husband and daughter and the many other blessings I have in my life. I often have to go through these same prayers and thoughts many times during the day to make it through. But I do. Each day I make it through and it's this very conscious, purposeful reasoning gives me back hope. Faith and reason, right? I need both.

Today, on the first day of 2015, I'm able to count my innumerable blessing, all five of our children among them, I'm able to see the good things that this year might bring for us. Even if this year does not bring us a viable pregnancy, I have so much else to look forward to. Fertility struggles tend to give those who experience it tunnel vision so that the only purpose in life is in another baby, the only thing worth looking forward to or working toward is another child. But my life is so much more than that. Another year with my wonderful husband and daughter is a blessing to look forward to in itself.