My daughter is sick with what we think is her first cold. Other than gnarly cough, Penelope is just as smiley as her usual herself. However, a night or so ago, I was up with her around midnight when she started coughing a little more aggressively. As a first time mom, my anxiety was through the roof. After making sure she was breathing just fine and funnily enough, she was smiling at me after coughing, I stormed into our bathroom to get some steam going for her.

All the while, I was begging for Our Lady’s intercession. Not out of my own intention (but maybe the Holy Spirit’s), Penelope was baptized on November 19th, the Feast Day of Our Lady of Divine Providence. So I was praying hard, invoking all the different names of Mama Mary. I asked Our Lady to comfort Penelope, to hold her, to ask her Son to heal her. Amongst my anxious prayer, I asked the Lord for forgiveness for not turning to his Mother as often as I should.

I said, honestly, “I don’t know how to go to you, Mother. I trust you, but I don’t know how to go to you.” and I continued to ask the Lord, “Lord, help me love your Mother because by loving your Mother, I know I love you.” and so on, “Lord, help me know your Mother so I can know how to be a mother.”

Insecurities kind of come with the new mom territory, I suppose, but I realized something during that prayer. And I don’t say the following to bash anyone or to say mistakes were made, I truly believe my parents were making the best decision they could at that time. I realized that because my mom was working so much when I was younger (she’s a graveyard shift nurse and up until more recently, she worked 6 days a week) that I don’t have a really good grasp on motherhood because I don’t have an expanded example of what motherhood looks like. While I appreciate my mother’s sacrifice, it stung as I stood in my steamy bathroom, holding my smiley but sickly baby girl.

So I stood there, rocking Penelope, praying and asking the Mother of God, our Heavenly Mother, to guide me. I asked the Holy Spirit to help increase my love and desire for this relationship. As I continued to pray, I felt consoled knowing my prayers weren’t going unanswered. It’s not that Penelope’s cough went away or that she was totally calm (eventually she did just fall asleep, praise God!) but it was because I was pondering on why God would give us Our Lady and what a beautiful gift she is.

“Behold, your mother!” John 19:27

Today is the Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God. What a beautiful day, friends. During Mass, as I held my snoozing baby, it dawned on me that my greatest tool to continue toward sainthood, to continue to grow in holiness in this new year, for me, is to grow in my relationship with our Heavenly Mother. Jesus did not stutter in his last few words; he was not scrambling or scatterbrained. He meant it. Behold, your mother!

I am confident that if I can grow in my relationship with Our Lady, that I can learn to serve better, pray better, and love better. For Our Lady is the Mother of all vocations. She leads us to the Son. As Father said today in his homily, “No one loved Jesus more than Mary.” How can I deny that example? How can I not want to turn to her and ask her for her guidance on how to be a wife and mother?

What a beautiful faith we have. God does not leave any stone unturned. If we’re honest enough with ourselves, where we lack, where we need to grow, where we are sorrowful, where we are broken, where we are lost, we can find every answer in God. For he knows us, and loves us. So it’s no mistake.

My mother wasn’t and isn’t perfect. She loves me, yes. She has done and still does so much for me, yes. And Penelope will probably say the same about me in the future. I hope to show Penelope that even though I may fall short as her mother, our Heavenly Mother is always there, always willing to hear the prayers of her children, always wanting to guide us to her Son.

This is my hope and my prayer for this next year…that I turn to Our Lady in my very vocation, in my day to day life, to ask her for her guidance, protection, example, and intercession so I can lead my wonderful family to sainthood and to Heaven.

Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Happy Solemnity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God!

Jesus, Mary & Joseph,

Pray for us!

Pax,

Delaine

My husband, Rick, and I recently welcomed our first little baby girl, Penelope Joy, into the world in October! I’ve been asked many times how I’m doing and while there is certainly truth to when I smile and say, “Good! Tired but good.” there is still something hidden underneath all of that.

As good ole Delores Umbridge makes Harry Potter state, “I must not tell lies” — motherhood is hard. It’s harder than I expected. Things don’t come as naturally as I thought they would. I don’t feel joyful 24/7. In fact, with all the fluctuating hormones, catching mastitis a couple of times, and the sleep deprivation, I feel quite ugly a lot of the times.

Let me first backtrack: Our delivery story is one I’d like to eventually share here but it wasn’t exactly what we had planned. Rick and I “planned” (because you can only plan so much) to have our baby as naturally as possible. We knew that something could change and that would alter our plans and we were okay with that. Three and a half to four weeks before our due date, we were told by our doctor that we were on a good track to have an unmedicated, natural birth. I wasn’t dilated at all…so we went home thinking we had 3ish - 4ish more weeks to prepare for baby girl. Much to our surprise, 3 weeks and 1 day before our due date, we delivered little Penelope Joy via emergency c-section. Side note: Our medical team that early morn deserves big batches of Christmas cookies because they were awesome and sooooo helpful.

It was traumatic.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world because both Penelope and I are safe and healthy and I’d do it again if I had to.

Being cut open (sorry for the frankness), trying to nurse my newborn (if you’re a nursing momma, you know — ouch), experiencing different and intense levels of pain and/or discomfort every time I’d move or shift or even pick up my baby, “sleeping when the baby sleeps” is a cruel joke, and all the new mom anxieties was a lot to tack on in one go (or so it felt like). Rick and I hadn’t even finished planning his paternity leave (planning to leave for an extended period of time when you work in ministry is not easy). So over the weeks, Rick popped in and out of his office, which meant I was solo-parenting for a couple of hours here and there. Family wanted to come meet the new baby, which obviously, I would want to as well. But it was just a lot.

Behind the pain and discomfort and obvious lack of sleep, I was wrestling with myself: shame, guilt, embarrassment, confusion, anxiety, resentment, frustration, impatience.

Oh man, did I feel ugly.

I felt like the worst of the worst. I doubted every part of me. I asked God why he would trust me with a precious child. I questioned God why he would give me such a loving and servant husband. I cried to God why he wasn’t granting me more joy in caring and sacrificing for my child.

And for a few weeks there, I was okay with being this way. I was okay with being angry all the time. I was okay with sitting in the lies that I was a bad mom because Penelope crying was just an on-going confirmation that I was (in my head). I was okay with being jealous that my husband got to sleep a little bit more or that he got to get out of the apartment without thinking of pumping or a diaper bag. I was okay with staying in the ugly.

It wasn’t until I started to see more and more ads for Christmas decor or Christmas events or Christmas deals did I start to reflect on what I’d like to do with Penelope as she grows up during this season. I started to ask myself about Advent and what Advent traditions we could start in our family. And sure, I was asking myself that basic question, “What is the reason for the season?”

In my ugliness, I answered, “Jesus, duh.”

Excuse me while I scoff at my past self.

I knew I couldn’t allow myself to sit there in such a shallow answer. Of course the reason is Jesus! Of course it’s all about him! But how do I explain to my daughter the meat of it?

Why does Jesus come?

Because I need him.

I remember taking a step back, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and seeing the muck my heart was buried in. I took a look at all this build up. My last confession was about a week prior to delivering Penelope and here I was only weeks out of that with so much vileness around and in my heart. While yes, my hormones had a lot to do with it, and I can’t control that, the one thing I can control is the way that I react to my hormones fluctuating and feeling something but not reacting disorderedly. I didn’t and I don’t want to stay in such a state.

I asked myself a question, “Do I accept that I need Jesus?” Because I realized that if I don’t begin there, the reason for Advent and the reason for Christmas, the meat of the two seasons, would be lost on me.

I can’t be strong enough. I can’t be brave enough. I can’t be patient enough. I can’t be compassionate enough. I can’t be understanding enough. I can’t know enough. I can’t be happy enough. I can’t love enough.

Not without Jesus.

Heck, I’d argue that I can’t do any of those at all. Not on my own volition at least.

“I do, Jesus! I do!” I feel like my heart sang this.

I desperately need Jesus. I can’t change on my own. I can’t rise on my own. I can’t become holy on my own. I can’t parent on my own. I can’t love on my own.

But accepting that I need Jesus is a moment to moment prayer.

This is my prayer this Advent as we wait for precious, adorable Jesus. And he comes to us so perfectly — a humble, needy baby. The Lord of Lords, King of Kings comes to us as a humble and needy baby…because he knows. He knows that I desperately need him to pull me out of my ugliness. He knows that I desperately need him to show me how to love when it’s 4am and my baby is crying. He knows that I desperately need him to heal my heart from jealousy so I can be joyful and grateful for the ways my husband gets to enjoy life. He knows that I am lowly and that I need him.

But I have to accept that in every moment.

Can I humble myself to recognize how, like my newborn daughter, needy I am?

Lord Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner.

This is where I’ll be for a while, I think. That’s okay. I’ll take this humble pie and roll with it because the Lord is greater than any of my sins and any amount of ugliness.

*Cue “Lord, I Need You” by Matt Maher.

May God bless you and keep you.

Jesus, Mary & Joseph, pray for us!

Pax,

Delaine