One Issue Cannot Be Ignored

Evasive Sleep

Nature's cruel joke--instead of preparing for a baby by hibernating, which would be nice, lots of pregnant don't sleep in the last trimester. Unfortunately, the hormones associated with creating a human also make me wakeful. I am in that stage of pregnancy in which I am exhausted from waddling around all day yet cannot sleep through the night.

Last night I woke up at 2 a.m. and could not sleep. I laid in bed for an hour and then decided that wasn't working, so I should get up an do something else. Usually watching boring T.V. works. I went downstairs, drank a glass of water, and took a dose of benedryl to help me go back to sleep, laid down on the sofa to watch part of a biography on Reagan, which was on PBS. I thought I would fall back asleep with the benedryl and Reagan bio. When the hour biography ended, I decided that I was probably too hungry to sleep. So, I ate a "toaster sandwich" and began to watch the Antiques Roadshow. I did fall asleep easily on a full belly. However, I am extremely tired today and have been for the past week and half. I can see now that this is how it will be for a while. I better get some more of those toaster sandwiches!

I am currently slurping down a cup of half hot chocolate, half coffee.

P.S. With the current election putting abortion issues front and center, I keep hearing the promotion of this "Born Alive" Bill. Every time I hear about it, I cannot help but cry (real tears--not just a sad feeling). These babies are born alive, and killed after a botched abortion. This campaign says that this happens more often than we want to think about. Honestly, in these late term abortions, I do not see the difference between killing them inside the womb or outside. With the help of modern medicine, people have survived being born at 24 weeks gestation. Further, I have heard stories of parents who have been told after testing that their child has some disability: downs syndrome; bad hear; one set of parents was told that their baby had no brian; being pro-life these parents did not abort, when doctors placed the option before them. The mothers carried the babies to term and they were born perfectly normal. The doctors and their tests were wrong. Can you imagine that mistake? It's insane.

Knitting of My Own Two Hands

The beginning of my baby sweater minus sleeves and the collar. The picture of the blue sweater is what it is supposed to look like done...provided I had followed the directions perfectly. I made one sleeve and royally messed it up. I will have to start over on the sleeves

Scarf #1: I know it looks wonky. It's just not laying flat.

I can crochet now. But, I am not very good at it. It is clear it will take a while to become good at it.

29 weeks - Its Getting Tight in Here

Protecting the Innocent - Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right

Andrew and I have been watching politics pretty closely lately. Last week, we listened to commentators debate Women's Rights in relation to Vice Presidential candidate, Sarah Palin. The debaters were all women discussing the rights women have gained. They pointed out that the major issues women have been fighting for are equal pay for equal work and the right to abort pregnancy. After all this time--fifty years to get equal employment and another fifty to fight for equal pay--women still have not exactly won the battle for equal pay. However, the right to abort pregnancy was won relatively quickly.

(On a side note: I am not one to downplay the accomplishments of women over the last couple of centuries and the struggle it was for them to achieve such.)


One commentator charged that should McCain-Palin win, they would fight to setback one of the great Women's Rights triumphs, and also charged (erroneously) that they would imprison women who had been raped and aborted a resulting pregnancy.


Firstly, I saw the fallacy in this claim right away. Just because a politician claims that abortion is wrong and should not be a protected right does not automatically lead to the claim that lawmakers would imprison those who have an abortion. As a former philosophy student, I was instantly appauled by the fallacy the debater was espousing. It was also appauling to think of a victim of such a heinous crime being imprisoned.


But now I have had some some time to think about it. I had never thought about this issue in terms of whether or not a rape victim should be imprisoned for aborting a resulting a child. That is a good question. After she has already suffered so much, should she face prison? Clearly that is not productive. She is not the one who commited the crime in the first place.


Rape is probably the worst crime to survive. A woman who survives it may never heal and the scars run deep. Now, I hate to say it, but to the rape victim, one of those torments maybe pregnancy. Though it may be difficult to deal with, I believe the only way for the victimized woman to maintain her own innocence is to carry the baby to term. Then it is her choice to give him or her for adoption, or keep the child. That should be our goal, as a society, in such cases, we should work to protect the innocence of the victim. However, whether a woman aborts the child or births it, the scars of her rape are never going to go away. Why destroy an innocent life when those scars will always be present?


The child did not do anything wrong. Why should it be murdered because a crime was commited during its conception? Easy for me to say, right? I never had to deal with being raped and pregnant. That's true. It is easy for me to SAY. But, two wrongs don't make a right.

I do know a woman who was raped, gave birth to twin girls and raised them. She does not care that their was not love in their conception. There is love between her and her daughters. There is love between her daughters and their children. Her daughters are out there being valuable members of society--fighting the good fight, saving lives. My friend, her scars are her own, but she does not consider her daughters a part scars; they were part of the healing.

So, would I imprison a woman who was raped and then aborted a resulting pregnancy? I am not sure how it should be handled. I do know that it is wrong. But, prison hardly seems appropriate; and is costly. I know that extreme duress leads people to do things they would not normally do--temporary insanity. If abortion were not so readily available and it was not a socially acceptable norm, I think there would be more women who would carry the babies to term and give them to adoption, or raise them. The goal of American society has been to rehabilitate criminals. The same should be for rape victims. We need to rehabilitate their lives after rape and all that entails.

Project Runway Fans Only

Project Runway is one of my guilty pleasures. I love this T.V. show, because it always gets my creative juices flowing. Last season, I discovered that photos from the finale at Bryant Park can be seen on New York Magazine’s Fashion website. This is several weeks before the T.V. finale. This season and last I have gotten a sneak peek and you can too.

Anyway, I was blown away by Leanne’s final designs. I sat up and noticed her after the New York City Inspiration Challenge on Project Runway. I have been impressed with her every challenge since. I have also been a big fan of Korto. I am marking down Leanne to win the show this season. If she does not win, it would be crime.

There is one huge criticism I have of Leanne’s collection. She used one color palette, or the same three colors; well really, she used one color (teal) and many neutral, creamy, oatmeal shades. But, her designs are so extravagant and interesting she gets away with it.

See Leanne’s Designs here:
http://nymag.com/fashion/fashionshows/2009/spring/main/newyork/womenrunway/projectrunwayleanne/

Hurricane Ike Splash Down (see video at bottom)

"There is No Dignity in Death"

I was watching the television show "House" the other night. It was a rerun that I had seen before, and had forgotten. But, he made a good point that I could ponder on for the rest of my life. It could even be a motto to live by. He was with a patient and she said to him, "Just go away and let me die with dignity." To which he quickly responded in a fierce tone,
To paraphrase:

"There is no dignity in death. There never is. [pause] You can LIVE with dignity. But, there is no dignity in death."

I repeat it. "There is no dignity in death."

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines dignity as, "the quality or state of being worthy, honored, or esteemed" And what I think Dr. House means is that death shows no man dignity. Death overcomes man's body, breaks it, and ravages it--cause it to suffer in the pain of death. No man escapes the agony of death. From all accounts, no matter how death occurs, even if in an instant it is undignified agony. Dr. House's message to the woman was to choose life if you are given the option even if it is a struggle to live.

I won't go into an in depth discussion on this, because like I said before, it is something to ponder on for the rest of one's life. But, it also reminds me of the old Church teaching, to live everyday as though it were your last.

Pregnancy Art - That's All I Have

No boasting. It's not very good. Just some haphazard, preggy, emotional drawings. She's not naked its art :-)

Renee Unplugged

This is a quick impromptu blog post. I am writing this as fast as I can--feeling speedy today.

Woohoo! Exactly 90 days until our due date. No, consensus was decided on how to spell the baby's name. I guess we will just wait and see what we feel most comfortable with when she is born. I guess you all will have to wait for the birth announcement.

Last week I moved onto Plan B baby sweater. My coworker did not have the patience to teach me the sweater. She thought it would be best to bring her big corchet hooks and just teach me the basic stitches and let me practice that a while. This all makes sense to me since it took me years to get to a point in knitting where I didn't make quite so many mistakes. Speaking of mistakes, my Plan B baby sweater is coming along great. I finished the hardest part over the weekend. Unfortunately, I did make a pretty big mistake that I can live with. I started on the next step, the smaller front panels. As I read the instructions, I realized that I made the back panel almost two inches too long, and it's not fixable at this point. I read those instructions more than a dozen times, but my pregnancy brain did not register it. The only thing I did know is when I was about 3/4 done with the back panel, I kept saying to Andrew, "This doesn't quite look right." That will show me for watching the two parties' national conventions while knitting. Lesson #1 in knitting - Do not divide your attention when reading the instructions. C'est la vie. It's going to be a long, lean sweater. I hope to return to the crochet sweater once I learn how to crochet better. It's too cute not to make.

I asked my midwife for recommendations on books about birthing methodology. She loaned me a crazy book, which is really spiritual and psychological. She said that I would find some of it odd, but that the right mindset was there and it should help get me in the right frame of mind. She was right. It's really odd, but it makes me feel super maternal and womanly. The first TEN chapters were mostly about pregnancy and birth art. It was all about how she recommends her patients do art to reveal their subconscious emotions and thoughts on birth and pregnancy. Then she uses it to change their feelings into more positive, yet realistic attitudes and encourages them to be more knowledgeable and know what they want, etc. Anyway, I have only just begun the section on actual birth methodology. It's a quick read, because most of it has been frippery that I glossed over. There were also a lot of birth stories and discussion at the beginning that I found somewhat helpful, because I haven't heard a lot of birth stories. I also tried a little bit of my own pregnancy art, because I fancy myself an artist sometimes and I felt a little creative spark inside me. I wasn't sure what would come out of my mind, but as usual all the images I thought were overly positive and idealistic. I do not think that I address pain and suffering in my life enough. I even idealize pain and suffering. I cannot tell if that is good or bad. But, I have realized latley that I am afraid of not being strong enough in birth. I am afraid of wussing out, because I really want to have an ideal, natural birth, without an epidural.

Enough of my ramblings, I am sure you were tired of it two paragraphs ago. When I have progressed farther on my knitting and birth art, I will share it via photographs.

A Yarn Nest

(Disclaimer: I didn't edited this, so I think there might be some errors)

I have been knitting! And I am learning to crochet. I was feeling really depressed about the lack of creativity in my life as I watched many of my friends getting crafty. I have also felt a great need to nest. I keep telling myself that it is too early in this pregnancy to nest. But, I can’t deny the urge to nest. I have wanted to make sweet little dresses with my sewing machine. But, after months of struggle with my sewing machine—feeling inadequate, breaking needles—I have decided that it is not me; the sewing machine is broken. Every time I get going the needle breaks no matter what tension I set it to. I loaned the machine to a friend some months ago and something might have happened to it in transit—like it was dinged around in the trunk of the car on the way home. It worked before then and it worked for my friend, but it hasn’t worked since it came home. It also makes a little grinding noise, so maybe it need grease. I don’t know. I am going to have to find someone to look at it. But, I have definitely decided that my sewing troubles are not my fault. I have moved on to knitting, etc. I have knitted before and I am getting better at it. I might even try to branch out into more advanced techniques. Currently, I am making a scarf. I am knitting very fast, but it doesn’t feel like the project is moving along fast enough. I think I chose the wrong gauge knitting needle. I am going to have to expand my needle collection. I have a size 8, which I am working with now; size 13 and size 6.

I also decided to make a baby sweater. The only sweater pattern at Walmart I really liked was a crochet pattern. So, I said to myself, how hard can this be? After trying it, crocheting is not difficult, but reading the crochet lingo is. I have enlisted a coworker to interpret for me and show me a thing or two. These types of things are better learned by example. I am determined to make a baby sweater, so if crochet doesn’t work out, I do have a plan B sweater knitting project.

STRESS

The rest of the Claytons in Claytonopolis are stressed. Andrew is stressed to the max because his first PhD comprehensive exam is in two weeks. Then he will have another two weeks after that. Every moment of every day he is stressed. It has been very much like the way it is the week before school finals. Study, study, study, all day and all night, then finals come and collapse. Except this finals preparation seems to be never ending with weeks on end of intense study and stress. After this Andrew will be bald and grey.

Alexander also seems stressed. In the past couple of weeks, his main caretaker at daycare had to start working part time, so they moved her back to the baby room. She has been a constant fixture in his life since he started at daycare. I think he really misses her, because he has been coming home really stressed out, whiny and clingy, like he hasn’t gotten enough love and cuddles. I feel really bad for him. But, also his behavior has been really hard for Andrew and I to deal with. He hasn’t been eating very well at home either. I am sure he will begin to adjust to this new person at daycare, but it will take some time.

I am fine. I am not too stressed. Andrew and Alexander stress me, because they are stressed. But, it is not my own personal stress. I feel a little bit of stress because I am trying to coordinate childcare at our church for parents who go to the Wednesday night Christian education classes. But, I don’t put too much pressure on myself over that. It kind of fell in my lap and I am pretty sure God is in charge of this one.

There's No Place Like Home

Aaah. Nothing like a cup-a-tea and a Vegemite toast. It's love in a brown, yeastie paste (that didn't come out right).

Today, a package arrived from Australia from my, oh so, thoughtful and kind, cousin Tim. It contained two fresh and delicious tubes of the unforgettable Australian delicacy, Vegemite.

It's the perfect comfort, breakfast, or snack. This brings to mind all that is good in the world. All is right in my world again. I really could go on and on about this topic, but I will kindly spare you the garrulity.

This Folks is What We Call Progress

This is me hanging out in my GU Think Pink shirt, taking pictures of myself in the bathroom mirror ( I wear this awesome shirt 85% of the time when I am at home). That is a 24 weeks pregnant belly. It's huge. I am sure I did not look this round the belly first time I was pregnant even though I weighed 20lbs more (I compared a 24 weeks picture from Alexander's pregnancy). The muscles are just not as tight.

I am pretty excited to meet little Cristiana (I was given a bassinet today. Other mommas can check it out HERE) I am not sure if I am ready for life to change all over again. I was just starting to get the groove back. But, who wants to live in a groove the rest of life. Otherwise known as a rut. No, things just would not be interesting and challenging without a little fun like raising a family. Enjoy the wealth of this belly.

Indian Cooking

In the past three weeks I have made three different Indian dishes: Chicken Korma (Left), Beef Kofta (Center), and Vegetable and Beef Samosas (Right). The end results were all tasty and well executed. I am almost done with this Indian cuisine cooking spree. After last night's samosas, I am almost sick of it. I will explain why later in the post. However, I will not be satisfied until I have made a meal using coconut milk. For some reason, coconut is one of those things that adds a delightful, delicate, comforting flavor. It's one of those things that sets off something in my brain. (Other foods that do this to me include, Bay leaves, vine ripe tomatoes, sliced, with a dash of garlic salt, soft Brie and wine. )

Growing up, it was always my mom's thing to cook international food. She made Indian, Chinese, Mexican, Italian, French, Irish and so on. Those were some of our favorites. She always took special care to procure authentic ingredients. She did not care if it took weeks to find the ingredients, days to prepare, hours to cook. It's her thing to think big, dream the impossible dream, and go outside the box. But, we all loved Indian food. My dad had a lot of Indian and Middle Eastern students over the years and after dinner at their homes, Mom was never afraid to get their recipes.

While I was in college, my mom and I were out and about in Spokane and found a book called The Complete Indian. I instantly had to have it. It has a recipe for just about any Indian dish you can think of and details on the Art of Indian cooking. Last month, Andrew and I enjoyed a dinner out in Dallas at an Indian restaurant. I thought to myself, I like Indian cuisine so much that I need to get out my cook book and learn to make some of these dishes, so that I can pass the experience on to our kids.

The Chicken Korma took half a day to collect ingredients, prepare and cook. It was a very meditative, contemplative experience for me. A lot of Indian dishes take a long time to make. That is part of the experience. Generally speaking, it's a very spiritual culture. Always when the scent of the aromatic spices hit my nose, and I know I am going to be quietly working away in the kitchen for a while, I feel the urge to meditate, pray and contemplate the greater things in life. It's a wonderful practice. I am sure there are other long process recipes from any culture that I could do this with, but currently the recipes I have that take the longest time are those in The Complete Indian.

To contradict myself, the Beef Kofta took no time at all. It took no more time than it takes to make brown rice (40 mins). I put the rice on to cook and commenced making these spice filled meatballs. I served them with broccoli and a cilantro yogurt sauce. The yogurt sauce was the perfect compliment to these meatballs. Andrew was quite pleased. Cilantro is his favorite herb.

The Samosas took the longest time of all to prepare; including the time it took to find wonton wrappers. There was a recipe for the dough to make the pastry shell, but I was not keen on the level of difficulty and time it would take. Further, I knew that wonton wrappers could be bought in the store and were the same thing as the dough. After a couple weeks of looking, I finally asked the right person. On Sunday afternoon, I made the beef filling and the vegetable filling and then simply put them in the refrigerator. Last night, we all came home together. Andrew, for some reason, was overly excited about the samosas and wanted to help. I stuffed the little packages and Andrew tended to them as they fried in the oil. Alexander stirred his own pot of water with green food dye in it on his little kid table. It kept him busy for the time we were cooking. When we were done he had a nice pot of duplo block stew. We ate the samosas with sweet chile sauce I found in the international food aisle at the grocery. It was another Indian food success.

With all the work put into this Indian food stint and how heavy the food tends to be, I am pretty much spent. However, like I said before, I will not be satisfied until I serve up a plate of food with coconut milk. Although, I am not limited to Indian food with this ingredient.

Sling: His Friend and Mine

I just wanted to share my little precious moment from Monday night. Alexander finally decided to give the sling a try since he was needing some cuddling and a pacifier. We cuddled and made dinner. It was a special moment.

This blog picture also features:
-My almost 6 months pregnant belly (Cristiana in utero).
-Eleri's awesome turquoise, handmade, sling (I love the pleats--an essential feature).
-Theotokos Icon from Poland (Feast of the Dormition of Our Lady tomorrow--one of my most favorite feasts).

Voodoo Magic? (My Acupuncture Experience)

So, I went to the acupuncturist yesterday. We talked a bit. Then after a while she started sticking the needles in me. She did not warn me, but I guess I knew because she started wiping spots with an alcohol wipe. It was odd at first, but also exciting. When she put in the last one in my foot all the points she had put in started to tingle. I smiled and said to myself, “Oh, that’s it. She hit the happy spot.” Then a warm relaxing feeling came over me. She turned on the space age, relaxation music and said I am going to let you relax for twenty minutes. So, I sat there relaxing, thinking about various things; no cumbersome thoughts came to me. It was just nice. Then she came back, we talked a little more.

Honestly, I was having an “up” day in the first place, but I don’t think it compares to now. Since the treatment, I have felt alert, relaxed and genuinely happy. I feel like I can handle life again. I really feel different. I woke up and did not have to drag myself around trying to pull it together. It’s an exciting feeling. I feel like I have regained Renee.

She said that she thought it could take three to four treatments for the full effect. I expect at some point this nice little high will wear off and I willing be begging to go back. I have an appointment for next week.

She also recommended a high quality fish oil supplement to stabilize the situation. She said that since these two babies are spaced somewhat close together that my body likely hasn’t had time to fully recover and the fats I need for my own brain function are being taken from my brain for the baby’s brain. In my own speculation, I had been sick all winter, and was still breastfeeding Alexander, and had just lost 20 lbs. So, my body may not have been ready for this challenge. It all makes more sense to me now, since this came on early in the first trimester, probably just six weeks after conception.

I will have to see where I go from here. I took cod liver oil before I was pregnant with Alexander and another fish oil during pregnancy, especially in the last trimester. Then I read an article saying that cod liver oil has been linked to staving off post-partum depression when taken after birth (for all my currently pregnant pals, heed this advice). So, I took my cod liver oil and never felt better during and after pregnant with Alexander. But, after becoming busy and overburdened with motherhood and working, my fish oil habit dwindled. Further, I tried taking fish oil and omega-3 supplements in the first trimester of this pregnancy, but they made the nausea worse, so I quit. The lady I saw yesterday said that I needed to take a higher quality supplement and it won’t cause me so much trouble. I have got nothing to lose but my $40.

Diagnosis: moody pregnant lady syndrome
Prescription: fish oil and needles
Prognosis: good to excellent, time will tell

On a side note, this week Fr. Timothy told us that our prayers were good, but to listen more and simply be with God. “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Just thought I would share, since I seem to be able to hear the homilies again.)

Baby #2 Update

So, now I know why they call this a delicate condition. I feel delicate. Wednesday night I deposited myself on the sofa with no energy to do much else. Thursday after my appointment at the doctor's office I went home and collapsed around 11:00 am and was pretty much unconscious until 4:15 pm when I woke up stumbled to the bathroom, but vomited before I got there, then had to clean it up by myself before the baby boy got home.

I went to see my midwife yesterday. My suspicians were correct; after being examined and tested, there is nothing going on that is out of the ordinary--it's all within the range of normal. But, unlike an MD she made some helpful recommendations. I almost blurted out that I have begun to distrust Western medicine completey (not totally true). At the risk of my ego, I did blurt out a couple of other things in addition to the pregnancy discomfort I have been overly emotional, crabby and depressed. Which is huge to me, because this is no time for me to fall apart when Andrew needs me to keep things together at least until he has finished the PhD comps.

After she explained some things to me, she suggested counseling. I simply said, I think I was looking for a more holistic approach. She didn't skip a beat and referred me to an accupunctist/nutritionist and we made the appointment right there.

I felt relieved. I was starting to lose it there. Usually, when I go to doctors and I have a problem, but still fall within the range of normal they say, sorry, suck it up and go home, it will pass. I want to say, hey, this isn't normal for me, I am miserable and my problem has not been addressed. So, this time I am glad she had an idea of an alternative. My insurance might cover part of it and she is not that expensive anyhow.

I was not too keen on counseling because while it might be helpful to some, she had already explained it was due to hormonal changes, and I don't know how talking about it would help hormonal changes. She said that they don't give pregnant women medications for this right away. I was not mentioning it to her because I wanted medication anyway. I just wanted her to say its a deficiency in this..., eat more this...I have long thought that a lot of these things can be helped via nutrition etc. Since, I managed to help other physical problems in my life via nutrition and exercise. I'll admit, lately my diet has been deplorable--high fat, high sugar, high carb, refined, enriched foods. And Wednesday I took a walk and barely made it through. I was having contractions and ligament pain.

I also know why they say that each pregnancy is different. I took for granted what an easy pregnancy it was last time. I think that the difference is because I am having a girl this time and different hormones go into making a girl, i.e., I think I am getting too many female hormones like estrogen, the same hormones that give a girl p.m.s. It's just a theory. I'll see what the accupuncture lady says.

That's the update...and for all my preggie pals, hang in there. I know it's not all peaches and cream.

BANNED!

Well, I don't know why I am so slow on the uptake. But, I found out why I can't find vegemite. The FDA banned it about two years ago. That is what my mom was told when she went to World Market to pick some up for me. It's not an official ban, but Kraft Foods Australia is not allowed to import it until they resolve issues with the FDA. And, two years later we're still waiting.

Oh, sure they'll let in toys painted with lead, but they'll ban vegemite for a little extra vitamins. Word is that they banned it for it's high folate content (that's a B vitamin). Duh, they let us administer our own over the counter vitamins don't they? Just slap a warning on the label saying to be careful and don't use more than this amount in one day. Urgh. My mom (mum for the Aussies) and dad have said they will attempt to acquire a large jar from our relatives in Australia. My parents are usually slow to accomplish such tasks, but a vegemite shortage is considered high priority. I learned that customs won't stop personally purchased vegemite, but retailers cannot import it.

Fun Vegemite Fact: In Australia, Vegemite toast and a glass of orange juice is a standard hangover cure.

Vegemite on the Brain Among Other Things

Need vegemite! Crave it! Love it!...vegemite toast and tea. vegemite toast with avocado and tomato, vegemite crackers with butter, vegemite broth...vegemite.

Where can a half Aussie, half American girl find a vat-o-vegemite? I have looked, but I haven't found any reliable sources of vegemite. Why has this delicious spread never caught on in America? Why do the Australians keep it all to themselves? Need it; want it; crave it. Full of delicious B vitamin nutrients.

Other Things:

Urgh, maybe it's nothing and I am totally being a wuss and need to take some acetaminiphen, take a bath and a nap, but I have had a lot of abdominal pain lately (increasingly more frequent over the past couple of weeks). Some of this should be normal and to be expected via round ligament pain and stretching out of the abdomin. But, it seems more than normal to me. It is definitely way more than last time. I am pretty sure that normal pains of pregnancy are not suppose to have you near tears and last for hours and days, even while I sleep.

This morning, in pain, near tears and starting to panic I called my midwife. She's not in the office today, but I talked to her. I am going to see her tomorrow morning. I had a regular appointment scheduled for this coming Friday afternoon, but while near tears it didn't seem prudent to wait to call. She said to go home if I feel I need to rest and if it gets worse to go into the hospital where she would meet me.

It's all subsided now, for the time being. I am now thinking that this is more likely to be something on the extreme end of normal. Like perhaps this is round ligament pain, triggering a muscle spasm followed by a Braxton Hicks contractions, or several contractions. All normal, yet all at once painful and concerning.

There is no other reason to think anything else is wrong. The baby moves plenty; no bleeding; no other signs of distress. Last pregnancy I became concerned about a lot of back pain. I didn't call the doctor. I used a heating pad and talked to her about it at a regular visit. She said it's normal, since everything is okay with my health and the baby's health. She said to get a weight belt to support the belly and it might help the pain. I never did get the belt. By the third trimester my back had adjusted.

All to say, this has been a concern to me, but it's probably nothing to worry about.

Litany of Humility

After being able to listen (quiet, well-behaved Alexander) to Fr. Timothy's Homily yesterday, I felt the need to pray this. It was a fire and brimstone, guilt inducing Homily. Andrew hates it when he gives such Homilies, because he thinks Father gives them a little too often. But, I think he does a good job bringing the scripture to light.

Litany of Humility(for private devotion only)

O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed,deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being loved,
From the desire of being extolled,
From the desire of being honored,
From the desire of being praised,
From the desire of being preferred to others,
From the desire of being consulted,
From the desire of being approved,

From the fear of being humiliated, deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being despised,
From the fear of suffering rebukes,
From the fear of being calumniated,
From the fear of being forgotten,
From the fear of being ridiculed,
From the fear of being wronged,
From the fear of being suspected,

That others may be loved more than I,
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be esteemed more than I,
That in the opinion of the world, others may increase, and I may decrease,
That others may be chosen and I set aside,
That others may be praised and I unnoticed,
That others may be preferred to me in everything,
That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should.

- Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val

Byzantine Catholic Evangelism

(http://www.byzantinecatholic.com/)
I just found this website yesterday. It is also linked to a radio station in which you can listen to previous broadcasts and a beautiful CD of the church choir. The radio broadcasts I listened to explain something about Byzantine Theology and the Theosis CD will allow you to experience Byzantine Liturgy. It's great introduction to Byzantine Catholicism. It made me very happy to look at this site. The church interior is amazing. It definitely will turn your thoughts to Godliness. The picture I posted on yesterday's blog was stolen from this site. Check out the rest of the church.

Spitting Jesus and More Confessions

This is truth. I am being totally honest with myself and who I am. I have a still and semi-petrified soul. It is shameful. I have many good intentions, but my heart is not pure.

This morning it occurred to me that something was wrong in my soul. Before I drove to work, I thought I should use that time to say some prayers, something is better than nothing. If I say them out loud, perhaps my deaf soul will hear it.

When I started the car this morning, the radio was blaring country music. I turned it down a little. I shut off the air conditioning in the car to save gas. It was bearable, but hot. I started to focus on how hot I felt and kept telling myself it was a short twelve minute drive and I could bear it. I drove the speed limit and focused on traffic. I did not say a single prayer. I did not think about the Creator.

As I sat quietly this morning before I began my work, I remembered I had planned to pray in the car. I felt a restless aching. There was nothing there—no goodness, no virtue. There is something wrong. Lately, I have thought several times, I am, my family, we are lukewarm Christians. Like this excerpt from Revelations.

15I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either
one or the other! 16So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about
to spit you out of my mouth. 17You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and
do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful,
poor, blind and naked. Revelation 3:15-17

That is who I am and I know it. It has been a while since I have made it to reconciliation. It’s for no other reason other than I do not think to go. It is not in the forefront of my mind. I do not wish to reject God and I know I have sinned. I do remind myself of that, but I never follow those acknowledgements by thinking I should make it right. I must be choosing to continue to do wrong. That part of me that used to say, “Make it right,” is quiet.

Further, it is my belief that good Catholics ought to live everyday in the ritual of the Faith. That’s what makes it a religion. My family does not do that. We always pause and say, this is the ritual; this is how we ought to pray and conduct ourselves on a daily basis; and then we never do it. Part of me envies the Muslims and their obvious devotion to their faith. They pause five times a day and pray. They make outward signs and act with faith. It is the same with the Orthodox Jews and Orthodox Christians. I am sure they sin too, but at least they are not lukewarm.

I always wanted my future family life to be different from how it was when I was a kid. I always wanted my family to pray together at least once a day; and not just at the dinner table. Well, here I am with a family of my own, a husband, a son and a daughter, and we have not made any sort of effort to prayer together. I know that it is hard to get a toddler to sit still and pray with mom and dad, but there is no time like the present; after all, he is a full-fledged member of the Church too. It is because I have never made it my practice to act in such a way.

I guess this is not only a confession, but a resolution to make it different. I sit here with trepidation that I will not be able to change. My husband and I have resolved so many times to be different. We have made efforts that dwindle away quickly. I wonder how I will do it and pray that I can do it.

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us sinners!” I am still a sinner.

Spitting Jesus

On another note, while I was looking for the passage from Revelations above, I went to Biblegateway.com and typed in a number of combinations of phrases including the word “spit,” because I couldn’t remember where in the Bible it was, or the exact phraseology. So, at one point I typed in Jesus spit. And the search engine came up with a multitude of passages containing Jesus and spit. Our God is a spitting God. Now, I know it’s symbolic. I know that it is supposed to symbolize baptismal cleansing. But, it is slightly amusing to see all these passages at once where Jesus decides to spit on someone to heal them, or talks about spitting. It’s such a graphic image. So, here below are two passages in which Jesus uses his spit to heal.

32There some people brought to him a man who was deaf and could hardly talk, and they begged him to place his hand on the man. 33After he took him aside, away from the crowd, Jesus put his fingers into the man's ears. Then he spit and touched the man's tongue. 34He looked up to heaven and with a deep sigh said to him, "Ephphatha!" (which means, "Be opened!"). 35At this, the man's ears were opened, his tongue was loosened and he began to speak plainly. Mark 7:32-7:33

22They came to Bethsaida, and some
people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. 23He took the blind
man by the hand and led him outside the village. When he had spit on the man's
eyes and put his hands on him, Jesus asked, "Do you see anything?"
24He
looked up and said, "I see people; they look like trees walking around." Mark
8:22-24

I Will Take Mine With an Extra Helping of Manliness

I heard on the radio that there is a new trend of manscara, man-liner and the man makeup bag. This story came from a Hollywood makeup artist who claims that increasing numbers of men (I assume all her clients) have found that certain cosmetic products can decrease facial imperfections while enhancing a manly appearance. AGH!

I really find it hard to believe that any regular man would agree to use anything more than the basics on his face. A man with a particularly bad complexion may be persuaded to use some sort of medicated face wash. Aside from that, I really do not think that any normal man has the patience to put so much effort into his appearance. Granted there are men that take the time and care to look nice and presentable, but that still would not include such adornments.

It is not a part of the manly repertoire to flower himself and paint his petals--he doesn't have any petals! Men do not use scented hand lotion (nor hand lotion at all unless his hands are chapped and bleeding), do not powder their noses, spend more than fifteen minutes in front of the bathroom mirror in the morning! The male hygiene regime involves shower, shave (face!), brush teeth, maybe some hair gel and if it is a fitting occasion some musky, manly, cologne. Anything more is frivolous and not a part of manliness.

The differences between men and women are wonderful things. Most men and women fit into some form of the male or female archetype and for good reasons. In part, we are anatomically designed to conduct our lives in such a way. Women’s bodies are designed to bear and embrace, to nurse; our visage rounder, sweeter, and prettier; our minds are designed to multi-task and have patience with nurturing, domestic activities (though not limited to such activities). Men are suited to lifting, hunting, gathering, protecting, have ample body hair.

A man who is more concerned with his own appearance than the ladies he keeps as company is not a gentleman I would like to keep as company. Even women who spend too much time readying their appearance I find them difficult to make my friend. It is the level of self-centeredness that makes it difficult.

I find it hard to believe that this is a wide spanning social trend. Just because some makeup artists in "the land of the beautiful people" managed to attract some clientele, does not make it a trend.

Wyoming in the Summer (For Those Who Don't Know)

There isn't better place in the world to visit than Wyoming in the summer. I am not saying that it Wyoming is better than other places in the world, however it is equal to any vacation destinantion. I will tell you why.

In July, Wyoming is not too hot. The mornings and evenings are cool and crisp; the air is always fresh, sweet mountain air. Every morning is greeted purple, pink and blue sunrises as the stars creep away. Every evening the sun sets over "the purple mountians, majesty," (the rockies) in saturated hues of orange, red and yellow.

There is stillness all around. You can sit quiet and still and not hear the buzz of a computer, or hum of passing autos. It's just quiet. The only noise to disturb the silence is the hushed whistle of the wind across the golden prairies. Sometimes the silence is so great that you can actually feel it with your whole body and soul.

Since there is no snow blocking the roads in the summer, you can go into the mountian and enjoy quiet mountain lakes and streams. The wildlife comes out to play. There is rock climbing both challenging and elementary.

At the end of July, in the state's capital, Cheyenne, they have "The Daddy of Them All," Frontier Days Rodeo. It's one of the biggest in the nation. There are all sorts of events. All the best professional rodeo riders come and all the best music acts (not just country). They have a carnival and lots of community events.

All this being said, I grew up in Wyoming and dreamed of the day I would leave Wyoming and perhaps never return. There are a lot of drawbacks to Wyoming, specifically if you have to live there year round. Most people who live there are quite happy to live there. Now that I am a grown woman, I know that I could be happy living anywhere. I heard a great saying once, "If you are not happy where you are, you probably won't be happy anywhere." Of course, that is in reference to geographical location, not life situation. Now that I am older and wiser, I know that that is true. So this last weekend when I visited Wyoming I appreciated it for what it is. Honestly, I appreciated it when I lived there, but I also focused on the negatives of living in Wyoming. You definitely have to be a tougher person to live in such a place.

My trip was perfect. It was not too long. I would have only lengthened it by one day. Alexander was a perfect child and so much fun. He thought traveling was a blast. Because my family was holding the 2nd annual Adam Towler Memorial Run, all the people who are important to me came to it to run, walk or help. I was able to talk with them at lunch afterwards. I did not have to endure the tedium of calling people and arranging visits and preparing myself and child for such visits. A lot of people came to the race and it went relatively smoothly. Best of all, some of Adam's favorite charities will benefit and his humanitarianism will be passed on.

It was nice. I was given a bite size visit of Wyoming and was able to enjoy it. Those are all the postives of my visit.

What's in a Name?

Andrew and I have agreed on a name for our daughter. It has reverberated in our minds for the past week. It has stuck with us the same way Alexander's name did. When we first named Alexander, I did not want to tell anyone just in case at the last minute we decided to change it. Or as I said at the time, "What if when we saw him and met him for the first time we felt the name did not fit." I am not always the most decisive person. I like to carefully ponder for a long time. I like to make the "right" decision for fear of making a mistake. Andrew is a very decisive person and makes decisions quickly and confidently.

There are no secrets in the Clayton family, soon the word was out about Alexander. The more I said it, the more it sounded right. It was also nice to be able to call our little developing baby by his name. When he was born, there was no moment that I said, "Oh no, this child look like a Charles." To me, he looked more like a blank slate--a little person whom I did not know, furthermore he did not even know himself.

And now without further adieu, we have chosen: Cristiana Noelle Clayton (what a lucky girl). Do not bother trying to suggest other names. We are resolute at this time. I will not say that we will absolutely not change our minds--nothing is final until we sign the paperwork. But, we are pretty stuck on this one.