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What’s Out There
As an author, mom, and former classroom teacher, I love a good thematic book collection! Believe me, I’ve looked at many of the most popular Advent and Christmas book lists for Catholic families, and purchased multiple titles to share with our kids.
One thing I noticed, however, is that many of the book lists for Catholic families often feature classic stories that are many years old. There is certainly something to be said for a timeless tale, and the books on these lists absolutely deserve a place on the shelf, but there are also many more recent titles that are worthy of designation. The booklist below contains beautiful stories for Advent and Christmas that have come out within the past three years.
What’s New
The Jesse Tree For Families: This book is actually brand new, as of 2023. I received a copy to review for Catholic Mom, and I’m very excited on the approach this book takes to the Jesse Tree. We’ve tried different Jesse Tree books and activities in the past, but nothing has quite stuck. We have an eight year age gap between our oldest and our youngest kids, and I found some of the other resources out there didn’t stretch far enough in one direction or the other. This book has short picture book style stories, as well as a section for parents to learn more about each person or name of Jesus featured. There are also thoughtful questions for each day to encourage family discussion and immersion into scripture.
Season of Light by Jess Redman. This book is a simple, beautiful, and poetic representation of the traditions and people and beliefs that make this holiday season so very special. This is the kind of story I want to read to my children by the fire, Christmas lights aglow, as we wait for the birth of our Savior. It talks about counting down the days to Christmas, the anticipation, the joy, the giving, the singing, and more, all leading up to going to church on a star-filled snowy night.
One Great Love: An Advent and Christmas Treasury of Readings, Poems, and Prayers. This is a lovely combination of the classic mixed with the new. Released in 2022, One Great Love is a beautifully curated collection of classic pieces of writing from years past combined in a new way, an elegant keepsake volume of stories, poems, prayers, and art from beloved writers through the centuries. Perfect for reading aloud as a family, giving to a neighbor, friend, or fellow literature-lover, or simply reading on your own with coffee in hand, this book is an invitation to a slower, more meaningful approach to the season of hope.
The Light of Christmas Morning. I have not only purchased this gift for our children, but I also have gifted it to several others! This book follows a Catholic family as they celebrate Christmas Eve leading into Christmas Day. Families will recognize things like an Advent wreath and a statue of Mary in the home within the story, and it is always a joy for me as a mother to see our faith represented so beautifully and explicitly in a picture book.
The Mass and The Manger: My Interactive Christmas Story. I have been a fan of Jennifer Sharpe since she first wrote My First Interactive Mass Book. We had a copy of that even before Ascension picked it up! The Mass and The Manger contains full page flaps that open up to reveal beautiful illustrations. As children interact with the flaps, they will discover that each scene from the nativity has a parallel in the Mass, leading them deeper into the true meaning of Christmas.
This letter is free for you to read, but it wasn’t free for me to produce. If you’re interested in supporting the work of This Catholic Family, I would be honored if you would prayerfully consider upgrading your subscription. Or, you can always buy me a coffee here.
As I write this, I’m in my late thirties and I’m beginning to notice some signs of age when I look in the mirror. There are a few gray hairs, there are lines on my face that didn’t used to be there. My skin is sagging in places where it never used to sag. There are moments where I see a little glimpse of my grandma in the mirror more than the younger versions of me.
And as I notice these changes, I also am ever aware of the three little girls in my home who watch the things I do, the things that I say. Girls who are getting their roadmap for how to live, for how to be a woman, from me—their mom.
Something that I noticed about myself immediately was that my first thoughts about my aging body were that I need to hide it, I need to fix it, I need to do something about it. I think a lot of that gut reaction comes from the culture I live in. It’s a culture with an entire industry focused on erasing the signs of aging, that’s obsessed with eternal youth. Anti-wrinkle, anti-aging, anti-dark spots, anti-gray hair. The messaging is so loud that I didn’t even have to try for it to embed itself in my mind.
Something that was really helpful for me was to become aware of those internalized reactions, and instead of accepting those messages as true, to question them. To pause a moment and wonder: how do I wish my daughters would think about themselves when they reach this stage of life?
Whatever the answer, I had a strong feeling that I needed to retrain myself so I can model graceful and grateful aging for them somehow.
I know that we are a body and soul composite, and our bodies are deeply a part of who we are as beings made in the image of God. Our bodies matter. They matter in many ways, especially because our bodies are how we experience the world around us, how we live our story. And when I started thinking about our bodies as the keepers of our stories, I began to find a new way to look at the signs of aging in myself.
That, in turn, is helping me talk about aging with my daughters.
As an example, one of my daughters recently pointed to the crinkle lines beside my eyes and asked why I have lines there. I leaned over and smiled and showed her that when I smile, my skin folds into little rays shooting out from the corners of my eyes. I told her that our faces show our feelings, and, after a long time, they remember our feelings, too. The lines around my eyes means that I’ve smiled a lot, and my face remembers it. My face helps to tell my story.
Another time, another daughter asked me about my stretch marks. I was able to tell her that my body had to make room for each of the four babies I made, and that my stretch marks show that part of my body’s story, a part that I’m grateful for every single day.
I think graceful aging can mean different things to different people, but I do know deep down that age is something to be proud of. Not everyone gets to grow old, and I don’t want to pass along the message that we absolutely need to hide our age, or fix it, or do something about it.
In thinking about how I want my daughters to react when they begin to see signs of their own aging in the mirror, more than anything, I realized, I want my daughters to one day look at their aging faces and to be kind. To be grateful for the stories their bodies tell. And I hope to help them along that path, and to help myself, by modeling that now and giving them a different message than the anti-aging industry proclaims. I want them to remember their mother looking in the mirror and smiling, and talking about her wrinkles, and showing gratitude for all the things her body has done and continues to do. And I hope they choose to do the same.
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This letter is free for you to read, but it wasn’t free for me to produce. If you’re interested in supporting the work of This Catholic Family, I would be honored if you would prayerfully consider upgrading your subscription. Or, you can always throw a little change in the tip jar here.
I thought the most difficult thing for me to navigate as a convert would be the Church’s devotion to Mary. But by the time all my other theological questions and been answered and misconceptions set aright, assenting to the Church’s relationship with Mary was much easier than I thought.
It turned out that the hesitation that lingered the longest was my relationship with the saints. I understood the good in honoring them and respecting them and asking them for prayers. But there was part of me that was quite intimidated by these Holy men and women, people who had done something that seemed so remote and unattainable. I was intimidated to the point that it took a couple of years past my Confirmation before I even read a complete book of writings by Saint Teresa of Calcutta, my confirmation saint.
The sense of intimidation has faded over time, and my interest in and gratitude for the saints has increased. These days I find myself frequently asking for their prayers and pondering their words and their lives in a way that buoys up my faith.
And so, it felt like an important step for our family when we learned that the relics of Saint Thérèse and her parents Saints Zélie and Louis Martin would be visiting the National Shrine and Museum of Saint Thérèse for a couple of weeks, just an hour from our home. Especially since our youngest daughter is named Zelie.
We arrived as the reliquary of Saints Zélie and Louis Martin were being carried from on building to another, and we all immediately could tell that this was going to be a special experience.
There was a deep reverence throughout the church and museum, among all the pilgrims who had come to draw near. We learned that the reliquaries held the bones of this family of saints, and we touched the glass and prayed beside them.
Saints Zélie and Louis Martin are particularly special to our family because of their witness in marriage and because of the way they raised their children to love the Lord. We asked for their prayers for the grace to follow in their footsteps.
Another thing I noted, that particularly stood out to me as a convert, was that relics are another gift of the faith that we can experience tangibly. I fell in love with the Sacraments as I converted, the fact that we can taste the Eucharist, that we can feel the waters of Baptism, that we can hear God’s forgiveness in Confession. My Christianity moved from intangible to being something I could experience with my mind, my soul, and my body as well.
It is easy to be disappointed in ourselves when we continually fall short of living our faith fully. It is easy to feel disillusioned with the Church when the people within it disappoint us, sometimes deeply. But in the relics we have real, tangible evidence of people who have done it, who have let God’s love in so fully that there wasn’t room for anything else. Being close to the relics of Saint Thérèse and her parents reminded me that it can be done, that it has been done, that we are not alone in the journey toward heaven.
All the disappointments in ourselves or others faded and our whole family left reminded and encouraged that we are not alone, and that we have a heavenly family praying for us and encouraging us along the way.
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This letter is free for you to read, but it wasn’t free for me to produce. If you’re interested in supporting the work of This Catholic Family, I would be honored if you would prayerfully consider upgrading your subscription. Or, you can always throw a little change in the tip jar here.
Today is the feast day of Saint Zélie Martin, and while I am no liturgical living professional, this is one of the feast days I always like to mark with a little something special.
A little bit of background on Saint Zélie. She and her husband Louis were both on a path toward religious life when they met each other and learned that God had asked them both to the vocation of marriage together. They had nine children, four of which who died while very young. Her surviving five children all went into religious life, the most well-known of which is St. Thérèse of Lisieux. She saw a lot of hardship. She and her husband are a great example of a holy marriage. She ran her own very successful lace business as well.
I learned about St. Zélie’s canonization and named our fourth baby Zelie in honor of her. Since then, St. Zelie has held a very special place in my heart, one that I lean in to and understand a bit more with each passing year of life, in particular as I grow in my understanding of my vocation as a mom.
The Temptation to Compare
Ever since becoming a mom eleven years ago, I have been fighting some sort of comparison battle inside my mind and my heart, all while trying to figure out my own identity as a mother. In the early years, the question of what should a Christian mom look like? loomed large. When I converted, I substituted the word Christian for Catholic and continued to ask.
Some of the churches we attended and people we hung out with had stronger messages for us than others. You need to stay at home, you need to homeschool, you need to coupon, you need to clean with vinegar, you need to bake your own bread, you need to not have a job, you need to have a side gig that contributes to your income, you need to remember all the liturgical things, you need to pray the rosary every day with your children, you need to keep a lovely home…these messages and more swarmed, faster and faster, louder and louder. Some of the messages contradicted other messages entirely.
Now, not all the moms I compared myself to were actively recruiting their lifestyle as the absolute only way to be a Catholic or Christian mom, they were often just sharing from their passion and joy, which is a lovely thing to behold. Some, however, were. Some of the messages were more implicit in the church or online community, but still there.
And I think I get why we as humans are sometimes tempted to take what works for us and prescribe it for others, especially in motherhood. Motherhood is so intimate, so vulnerable, and so personal. We don’t want to mess it up. It isn’t comfortable to look around us and feel like we’re the only ones doing what we’re doing. The moms I know, myself included, are often questioning our decisions on a pretty regular basis. Is it the right call to stay home? Is it the right call for me to work? The right call to homeschool/private school/public school? And the list goes on.
It can feel a lot less lonely to be part of a pack. Finding or recruiting people with likeminded philosophies says “You do what I do, and that affirms that I picked the right thing. Then I’m doing it the right way.”
A Different Path
My suggestion isn’t that we stop talking about or sharing the things we’ve found helpful, or the mothering style that brings us joy. My suggestion is that we avoid saying that the way God has asked us to live out this vocation is the way that God is asking all women to live out this vocation. And, for those of us on the receiving end, that we reframe how these messages impact us.
Turns out, St. Zélie didn’t stay home full time. She also had in-house help. She ran a business. Her kids began their education at home for a time. Learning about St. Zélie’s life helped me see that she didn’t live like any one cookie cutter Catholic mom box, and she became a Saint. Her life helped me feel free to live the unique Catholic motherhood I am called to each day.
For me, that has looked like staying home when a new baby is very young, but eventually returning to work. My jobs are usually in education, and allow me a similar schedule as the kids. The professional fulfillment makes me a better wife and mom at the end of the day. I am a creative person, and I need a creative outlet. Mostly, that outlet comes in finding time to write. I write short and long essays for the web, and I write fiction books for young readers. Sometimes I play with watercolor markers. Sometimes I read. I am also an introvert. That means I need to carve aside time to be alone. My family can tell if I’ve gone too long without a little stretch by myself, and it is okay that some alone time is important to me. When those things are in place, all the family stuff…the family dinners, the bedtime stories and prayer, the request for a push on the swing, all of that is better and richer and more vibrant because I am embracing and respecting who God made me to be as a person and therefore as a mom.
This realization, that we have never been meant to do it one specific way, completely changed my view. I was able to admire and respect the Catholic moms with particular approaches or particular strengths. Hooray for the liturgically awesome mom! The aesthetic home mom! The daily rosary mom! The homeschooling mom! And hooray for me and the mom I am too!
It was incredibly freeing to be able to separate the idea that I have to do what other moms do, and to celebrate the diversity of Catholic motherhood that exists. It was exciting to realize that doing Catholic motherhood in the way that matched the way God made me and my unique family was not going to look like a carbon copy of another family, another Catholic mom, but that all these things could be very, very good.
Some Questions For The Journey
As mothers, we can too often absorb the message of unhealthy self-denial. Yes, of course we are supposed to deny ourselves in terms of offering ourselves up for the good of another. But we also are meant to become fully who God made us to be, and the things God has put inside our hearts are intrinsically good. Intrinsically unique. And they are meant to shine.
Here are some questions to consider as we all continue on the journey toward embracing and growing into the person God made us to be.
When do you feel most alive as a person, woman, and mother? Under what circumstances do you see the world in full color? When does your heart feel so full it might just burst? When are you most grateful? What things do you long for, and what might those longings teach you about yourself? What might a life look like for you and your family that integrates your uniqueness? Whether your have felt pressure from yourself or from others, what steps can you take to let go of that now?
None of us are meant to be copies of another woman, another Catholic mom. We are all meant to be glorious and beautiful in our uniqueness. We are meant to celebrate each other, to lift each other up.
Like snowflakes, no two of us are the same.
St. Zélie, pray for us.
Amen
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Historically, I have struggled when the young people in my care make poor choices. I have tended to take their decisions personally, and to see those moments as a failure on my part, thinking that their choices reflect badly on me.
As a parent, this has caused me to turn inward on myself, ruminating on how I am failing my kids and students, because, obviously, if I weren’t, they would be perfect little saints.
Even writing that sentence, I have to smile. Because removed from the heat of the moment, I can see how silly it is to think that. But in the moment itself, that is exactly the kind of thinking I have tended to engage in. If my children or students choose poorly, then, to me, that means I am somehow failing as a parent or teacher.
However, in doing this, I make my place in the grand scheme of things distorted, larger than life, out of proportion. As if me doing everything right (an impossible task) will somehow result in the people in my care doing everything right as well.
When I set myself back down in my proper place amongst the bigger picture, and zoom out even a little bit, I can gain a better perspective.
For example, it isn’t God’s fault that we choose to sin. It isn’t a bad reflection on God, and it doesn’t mean that God is anything less than a good, good Father to us.
In fact, our ability to choose is a reflection of His goodness to us.
Those opportunities to choose—even if we choose wrongly, are chances to learn and carve away those parts of ourselves that are not yet fully conformed to love. It allows us to choose love in the first place. We need to see the difference between where we are now and where we have the potential to be so we know how to orient ourselves moving forward. Our failures are a beautiful opportunity to learn and to move closer to Him.
The same applies to me and my relationships with my children and students. As a person entrusted with young people both in my home and in my classroom, I am learning to view these opportunities as a gift. When they make poor choices, I can get a good look at areas where my children and students have an opportunity to grow in character and holiness. And I have the honor of helping to guide them on that path.
Those moments have, in some ways, very little to do with me at all, other than the fact that they are opportunities for me to step up in my role as one who guides young people, and to help them turn back to love. To grow their virtue muscles. To help them see the difference between who they are today and who they can be, and to spur them forward. To encourage them. To help light the way.
When I view things like that, I put myself in my proper place. I put their choices in their proper place. And I can even rejoice at this thing called Free Will, and the opportunity it offers us to be sanctified throughout our lives so, when the time comes, we will be ready to meet God, Love itself, with arms wide open.
And so, in the end, it isn’t a poor reflection on me when the youth in my care make the wrong choice. In fact, it is an honor to be present, and to be ever at the ready to help.
-Lorelei
Note: This article originally appeared on Catholic Mom
As an introvert mom to four and Catholic school teacher, I know two things to be true. I love working with youth and being a mom. I also know that I am often overstimulated, and that in order to do my job and my parenting well, I need to set aside regular time to rest.
Easier said than done in the day-to-day hustle and bustle, but when I don’t rest, many of my less-than-amazing traits shine through. The impatience, the feeling overwhelmed, the irritability. The need has always been there, but rest has looked different at different phases of life for me. There hasn’t been a magic rest recipe that has worked well all the time. There have been times when I have tried to rigidly schedule rest, but I found that certain days I need certain things more than others, and sometimes the scheduled “rest” didn’t match what I needed at all, and therefore it felt more like a burden than anything else.
So I let go of the rigidity, and recently, here is what I’ve done that I’ve found helpful. And I hope some of you may find it helpful, too.
I started by making a list of things that recharge me. Things that, for me, constitute as rest. Some items on the list were a hot bath, reading a book, enjoying a nice glass of wine with my husband, writing or creating something, taking a walk, prayer, journaling, just sitting in a quiet space, taking a nap, doing a workout, and so on.
And then, rather than sticking to some regimented schedule of predetermined rest activities, I allow myself the freedom to choose what would best help me in that given moment. I do this by taking care to be mindful throughout the week of how I’m feeling. Am I overstimulated? Maybe I need to let my husband take care of making dinner so I can go enjoy a quiet bath when he gets home from work. Am I low energy? Some days, I might cure feeling tired with an energetic workout. Others, I may shut my eyes for a little while for a nap.
I’ve learned that right now a lot of my rest involves accepting the introvert inside me and stepping away from people for a little while, whatever that looks like. When I do that, I’m much better for everyone when I return.
One thing that remains relatively constant is setting aside regular time to pray. This often happens early in the morning, before the rest of the house has stirred. It’s not natural for me to get up at 5:00 AM, or even 5:30, but it is the best chance I have at quiet before the day begins for everyone else in my home. I do this four or five times per week, and it acts as an anchor to my days.
It can be very easy for us moms to push aside our need for rest, to put the needs of others above our own. I often smile when I think that even God rested, and I feel the value of rest in my soul when I see how much better I am for those I love and serve when I prioritize resting too.
Rest will not look the same for every person, and it probably won’t look the same every day, but if we can take time to recognize the things that recharge us, and allow ourselves to take the time when needed, then I trust that we are better equipped to live our calling in whatever phase of life God has us in today.
(Note: This article originally appeared on Catholic Mom)
I think how we raise our kids in the faith is likely formed, at least to some extent, by how we were raised in our own. If we had a good experience that developed a rich faith life, or if we encountered struggles or poor examples or formation in some way still lingers in our minds and in our hearts.
There are moms who do an amazing job at liturgical living, or who are faithfully and frequently found with rosary beads in their hands. Moms who take their kids to Adoration often, to Confession often. Moms who homeschool and love it.
Since converting to Catholicism in 2016, I have tried on many different Catholic-mom hats. We do love celebrating liturgical days and feasts, but not all of them. We do love praying the Rosary, but it’s not my most frequent devotion. We love going to family Adoration, and would love to do that more often than we have. There were many parts about homeschooling that I loved, but in January of this year we enrolled our kids at a local Catholic school and I am beginning work there as a teacher. That particular move has been better for our family in many ways.
At first, I think I felt like I wasn’t a complete Catholic mom, in some ways, because I didn’t fit neatly into one of the boxes I had created in my mind about what a Catholic mom should be. But over this past year, that has changed. I am realizing that Catholic moms come in as wide a variety as the women who embody that name.
And, for me, I have come to accept that the thing that I lean most into as a Catholic mom is encouraging my kids to think deeply about the faith, to ask good, rich questions, and then to walk them down a path of knowing that there are deep, good, rich answers to be found. I also want them to love the liturgy, to see the beauty in ritual and tradition, and to know that we are connected profoundly to the Christians who have come before us.
This is likely formed by my childhood growing up in a fundamentalist-leaning but also somehow charismatic evangelical church. I was taught that faith and science are sometimes at odds with each other. I didn’t know there was depth to be found past the basic tenets of the Gospel, and when I became an adult my despair that there may not be deep answers to be found lead me towards agnosticism.
My husband had similar experiences within the Catholic Church, where he grew up knowing the rules but not understanding why they were there.
So, together, it has become very important for us to let our kids ask questions, to explain the whys of our faith, and then to hope and to trust that when they go off on their own some years from now, that they will find they have a firm foundation to stand on. My prayer is that they will feel safe at home.
I am the It’s okay to wonder and ask deep questions kind of Catholic mom, along with a sprinkling of the other kinds too. And that’s one of the beautiful things about our faith: that rich diversity is what makes the Church. God has given us each unique passions and gifts and calls, and we can all be ourselves fully within our Catholic home.
As someone who has spent most of my life in the Evangelical world, and who has spent the last few years in the Catholic world, ‘homemaking’ is something I’ve heard often in both places. There are books written about homemaking and podcasts about it. People talk about it—and we seem to all know what the idea of homemaking means.
When I think of the word homemaking, it conjures up images of throw pillows, and softly slung blankets across the arms of chairs. Fresh baked muffins and clean floors. Cute little artsy things on the walls and mantel that were probably purchased from Target or Hobby Lobby. A friend and I were talking recently about how even those more ‘surface’ level connotations are kind of difficult to swallow sometimes, especially if there are stains all over your pillows and couches from grubby little fingers, or if you don’t enjoy hanging cutesy things on the walls.
But there are some deeper connotations, too, and I wonder if other women feel the same way.
It’s not that I don’t want to make my house a home, it’s that I don’t want to feel like ‘home’ has to look a certain way for me to fit my identity as a Catholic Christian woman.
We stopped homeschooling in January, and that has been the best thing for our family. I haven’t always been a stay-at-home mom. I’m currently the owner of a mobile children’s bookshop and an author of middle-grade novels, but I’ve also been a teacher. Our home has looked different in all of those seasons, but I don’t think that at any point it has been any more or less a home.
Sometimes my husband does the laundry. Never do either of us iron any of our clothes unless we’re going to a wedding. I can’t sew anything more than a button. I am horrible with yeast. Do not ask me to make anything that requires ‘rising’ because it will not work. But these are all things that I’ve felt, at one time or another, has been presented as the proper way to make a home by women in faith communities, both Evangelical and Catholic.
I think it may be helpful for us to reframe our idea of what homemaking means. To broaden it, and give it room to breathe. To create space for the diversity of women of faith, our unique gifts and strengths, and the different phases of our lives.
What about leaving the floor for later and going outside to play with your kids? That’s homemaking too. Really, really good homemaking. What about letting the grubby little fingerprints on the fridge go so you can sit down with a coffee and read a book? That’s homemaking, because our peace of mind impacts everyone else. What about letting go of the expectation that we need to entertain our kids all the time to the point that we burn out, and accept that creating a stable home with a predictable routine is also making a home?
While I personally love a good throw pillow, having seasonal throw pillows does not make a home. I am a big fan of creative ways to display pumpkins in the fall, but having decorative pumpkins is not in any way the essence of homemaking either. I’ve seen too many situations that look amazing on the surface, but when you peel back a few layers, you see a lot of brokenness and hurt. A pretty house can be an indicator of a true home, but it also can cover up struggle. And when we equate these superficial, first world Christian Woman expectations with being a Good Catholic Mother, then I think that leaves room for us to hide the struggles, or puts pressure on us to do things that may not be our strengths.
In the end, true homemaking is about a safe, and joy-filled, and peaceful home where hearts are safe to grow into what God made them to be.
That’s it, that is homemaking. That is making a home.
I’d love to hear what you think about homemaking—if it’s a concept you’ve embraced (which is great, if that’s you!), if it’s a word that you also struggle with, or if you just have never carried the emotional burdens like I have (haha). I’d love to know your thoughts.
My mom, Linda, is an amazingly strong lady. She’s known for her hospitality and service to the community. She’s fought many battles and won them. And she’s being asked to fight a familiar battle once again.
We found out recently that she has breast cancer for the second time, unrelated to her first cancer from 9 years ago. She will soon be undergoing surgery and weeks of radiation following.
I’m sending this out as a prayer request for all the surgery and treatment to go well, for things to be simple and straightforward, and for her recovery to be swift and complete. I had the honor of being my mom’s confirmation sponsor a few years back as she became Catholic, and Mom’s spiritual foundation is strong. I know it will help her through, especially with the prayers of others joined in with our own. Unless something changes, surgery is scheduled for Sept 1.
I’m also sharing an additional need. Her and my step-dad are owners of The Astor House Bed and Breakfast in Green Bay, Wisconsin. They receive so many five star reviews about their welcoming home, and they serve the most amazing homemade breakfasts to guests each morning. Many of Mom’s baked goods have won ribbons at the County Fair :).
Because of this diagnosis, they will have to operate on a limited capacity as Mom undergoes treatment. The unexpected loss of revenue from this, on the heels of recovering from Covid closures, will be a challenge. My brother and I set up a GoFundMe for her, to help bridge the income gap. If you are able to share or donate, we would be so very grateful.
This letter is free for you to read, but it wasn’t free for me to produce. If you’re interested in supporting the work of This Catholic Family, I would be honored if you would prayerfully consider upgrading your subscription. Or, you can always throw a little change in the tip jar here.
The topic of contraception has been very much in the spotlight lately, perhaps more than usual, and it seemed like a good time to share a bit more about how we navigate family planning in our marriage in the hopes that it will be helpful. It feels especially fitting to share this during NFP week this year!
Please note that nothing in this article is meant as a substitute for official training in NFP methods. It is intended as an introduction and brief overview. If you’re interested, please reach out to me or connect with one of the resources below to learn more. I will also be using the terms NFP and fertility awareness interchangeably in this post, since they are both terms to describe the same thing.
Why I Don’t Use Birth Control
To start, I utilized hormonal contraception, as some of us are prescribed to do for other things, long before I used it for contraceptive purposes, and long before I ever imagined I’d be Catholic. There are religious reasons that contributed to why we decided to stop using this form of contraception, but I’m going to steer clear of those here and focus on the other reasons why I stopped, which are plentiful as well.
You don’t have to do more than a simple Google search to get a list of side-effects of hormonal contraception. The list is long. I had a lot of the side-effects. It wasn’t great.
I also started to question the concept of hormonal contraception in the first place. My fertility is a healthy, functioning part of my body, and I couldn’t think of any other heathy, functioning parts of a person’s body that we artificially and long-term suppress. We usually treat conditions in which our bodies are sick, or not functioning like they are supposed to. Why was I acting like my fertility was something that needed treatment vs. something to be understood?
This is all not to mention my general discomfort in putting artificial hormones into my body on a consistent basis for years at a time. Or the fact that hormonal contraception puts the responsibility for not getting pregnant squarely on the woman’s shoulders, which didn’t feel equitable.
I kept questioning why there wasn’t anything better out there? Something that was, perhaps, respectful of my fertility, and let me understand my body so I could make effective decisions on when I did or did not want more children?
Good News
Turned out, there is something better out there. Fertility Awareness, or as it is also known, NFP.
(I will immediately add the disclaimer that I am not going to be talking about an app that tracks your fertility. You can use an app if you want to help record your data, or you can do it on paper, but apps themselves cannot tell you accurately when you are and are not fertile. More on what you can do to know that information below.)
A bit of background. My husband holds a PhD in biomedical science. I have a Master’s degree, and work as an author. I am of the opinion that fertility awareness is something that would benefit so many women, but is not discussed among family planning options nearly as much as it should be. It’s also incredibly easy to do for most women. Once you learn it, it becomes part of your routine and doesn’t take much time at all.
A bit of data. When used accurately, fertility awareness is statistically as effective as an IUD or perfect use of the pill. Sources at the bottom of this post.
Fertility Awareness teaches a woman to understand her body, which can help her achieve pregnancy or avoid it. Anecdotally, we have been utilizing Fertility Awareness since 2016, and have had 2 children intentionally and have avoided pregnancy the rest of the time with success.
How Does It Work?
We use a combination of sympto-thermal and Marquette methods for tracking my fertility. Here’s a sample month, starting on day 10 of my cycle until the end.
A sample partial month of fertility charting
3 Things To Note:
At the very bottom you can see the letters L, H, and P. I use the Clear Blue Fertility Monitor starting a few days into my cycle (the monitor prompts you on which day you need to begin to test). It reads L for low, when it does not detect estrogen. It reads H for high when estrogen is detected, and this lets me know that my body is preparing to ovulate and I’m potentially fertile. It reads P for peak when it detects luteinizing hormone, which means that ovulation is imminent. This is wildly helpful for family planning purposes whether or not you are hoping to get pregnant, for obvious reasons.
The information in the middle of the chart (The colored bars, circles, etc.) relate to cervical fluid changes and other related pieces. Cervical fluid changes in consistency leading up to ovulation, and you can see peak cervical fluid (the yellow bars) just before my monitor reads peak, which is wonderful corroboration.
And finally, my favorite piece, are the lines and dots at the top, which track my BBT or basal body temperature. You can use an actual thermometer for this, or there are rings and wristbands you can use to digitally track this for you. Basically, your resting temp (after 3-4 hours of sleep), taken before you get up and move around, can help confirm if you’ve ovulated. In this sample chart, my temp is consistently below a certain point until just after peak. That rise lets me know that I’ve ovulated, and it is caused by an increase in progesterone after ovulation. I am past fertility on the evening of the 3rd day of the temp rise in this chart because the unfertilized egg is gone. If you are pregnant, this temp will actually stay high, and can be an early way to know if you’ve conceived. If you are not, it will drop back down as progesterone drops and your period approaches. I can not only confirm ovulation via my BBT, but I can also know with a high level of certainty when my cycle is about to start and I’m never caught off guard.
Fun fact- The amount of time between a new cycle starting and ovulation can vary greatly! It can be impacted by travel, sickness, interrupted sleep, stress, etc. With Fertility Awareness you never have to stress out if your period doesn’t arrive on its usual schedule. You can know from the data that you ovulated late, and therefore that it will be a longer cycle overall.
But, the other part of that fact is your luteal phase- from ovulation to a new cycle starting, doesn’t vary much. It’s pretty consistent within a day or so no matter what. If you have a really short luteal phase (shorter than 10 days often), it may be time to check with your doctor though to make sure that your progesterone levels are normal.
If this is something that you are interested in learning more about, please feel free to message, comment, or email. Or check out the resources below for training. Paying attention to my body and recording this data has become such a natural, small, easy part of my daily rhythm. I have pretty regular cycles, but Fertility Awareness can also be for those who have irregular cycles too. It can even be a tool to help you figure out what’s going on in there instead of putting a band-aid on the problem.
Why Check out Fertility Awareness/NFP?
And now, a bit of my personal story. Since using Fertility Awareness, I feel like I know my body better, and that I am respecting how my body works, which is very empowering. There is nothing wrong with my body and my fertility, and changing from suppressing it to understanding it has been amazing.
This is a team effort. If you have a partner or a husband, they can get involved in many ways, from recording the data, to running the monitor each morning. It also increases communication between couples on a regular bases about their family planning goals, which is a beautiful, healthy thing.
I also have friends who, through Fertility Awareness, were able to identify hormonal issues that would have likely led to miscarriage if they were not addressed (often, low progesterone). They were able to get medical care and remedy those issues and not lose their children from a preventable cause.
Now that I’m here and have seen the benefits, I would never in a million years go back. I’m happy to answer specific questions too if you have them! Feel free to get in touch.
Book: Taking Charge of Your Fertility (Not a Catholic book, I skipped over the portions that dealt with areas that would be in conflict with my faith, but the overall book was very helpful.)
This Catholic Family: Catholic Womanhood, Family, and Conversion 