Finding A New Mother In Mary

Before I was Catholic, I focused on Mary during the holiday season. I mostly thought about her, pregnant and heavy laden, making the long journey for the census just before her baby was to be born. Tired, searching for a place to rest. Giving birth in a dirty, humble place. Holding the infant Jesus in a night where shepherds and angels and the light of a star paid Him heed. I had the honor of being in late stage pregnancy twice during the Advent season. I was very comfortable thinking about Mary then.

But I didn’t think about her much otherwise. Thoughts about Mary were safe during Advent and Christmas. But, like the tree and decorations we put up in our home, my thoughts of Mary, too, were boxed up and put away at the end of the season, until the following year. Mary belonged in a nativity scene, not in my life.

A Growing Admiration

All of that necessarily changes when one is on a journey to the Catholic Church. Mary plays such a key role in our salvation story, and Catholics aren’t afraid to acknowledge it. I know, based on the Bible and the teaching of The Church, that Mary is in heaven, and prays for us. I also know that Jesus listens carefully to what his mother requests of Him. Her role as the New Eve, the Ark of the New Covenant, her Immaculate Conception, her lifelong obedience and holiness, also are things I worked through as I prepared for Confirmation.

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It became easy to realize there was much more to Mary than what I had previously thought. It became easy to be thankful for how precious a role God gave Mary, from the moment of her own conception. It became easy to admire her.

But, as I am learning, admiring someone is not the same thing as being in a relationship.

Baby Steps

As a teen, spending time with my mother wasn’t as high on the priority list, though that has long since changed. But in some ways, I think I still relate to Mary in that way. I know she loves me and is there for me, but I don’t often make time with her a priority. Some of the Rosary’s I’ve prayed have ended up being the most powerfrul prayers of my life, prayers that were clearly answered, and graces that were abundantly given.

So why don’t I do it more?

Perhaps it’s some tendency leftover from my Protestant days. The Rosary isn’t often one of the first prayers I go to, and even though it doesn’t take incredibly long, I often struggle at the time commitment a Rosary takes. I have been praying Hail Mary’s more often in my day to day life, which I think is a good baby step. But it feels too tiny sometimes, when I know the beautiful graces given to me through Mary on the occassions I have spent time intentionally turning to her.

But I also know Mary has a lot to offer me if I would not only spend time talking to her, but also listening.

I have so many wonderful mother figures in my life. There’s my mom, who has been with me since the beginning. I also have a step-mom, and a mother-in-law, as well as many other women who have been influential in my life.

But as much as these women have allowed me to talk and share my heart with them, I find I often learn the most when I listen to the wisdom they have to give me. And Mary has so very, very much wisdom to offer. Through her example in Scripture, through her presence in the ways she has appeared to many throughout history, offering Truth and encouragement and building our faith as a Church. This weekend, we are celebrating the 100th anniversary of Fatima, and that is just one of many examples of her intervention in our world. And I’m sure she would speak to my own heart, if I only would quiet myself and listen.

Many Mothers

I think a person has room for many mothers. Women who love, guide, and shape us. Who intercede for us. Who listen to us. Who offer us comfort. And I firmly believe Mary should be at the top of the list of Mothers in our lives.

On this Mother’s Day, it is my prayer that as I celebrate the earthly mothers in my life, I would also move closer to embracing my heavenly Mother, Mary. That I would allow her guidance and wisdom more and more into my own daily existence. That I would not take the blessing of having a heavenly Mother for granted. And that I would look to emulate her, and ask for her intercession to become even a small portion of the woman and mother she was to Jesus and is to The Church. For God’s grace to emulate her in holiness. And to know she is there for me, loving me, and waiting for me to spend some time.

-Lorelei

We Want to Know: What is your relationship with Mary like? How do you relate to her as a Mother?

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Laying Down My Rights

Just when ya think you’re in pretty good shape… something comes along and reveals the sin in your own life very clearly.

JP made a mistake this week. A very honest mistake. It ended up costing us $100. Which isn’t the most money in the world. But, it was enough to provoke a reaction in me that I am not proud of.

I got so mad about that $100. I thought some Not So Friendly Thoughts. I wasn’t very nice.

And the whole time I was having the reaction I had, I knew that the root of it all had to be some sin of my own.

I literally was having a conversation with myself in my head (not like a crazy person conversation, but a totally sane inner dialogue) that I knew I was reacting sinfully, and I needed to stop, and then the other part of me was saying I had a right to be angry and offended and to let him know how I felt.

There were a couple of realities at play here.

I know, of course, that my husband is allowed to make mistakes! Neither of our mistakes are going to consistently cost us $100, but this time it did. And that doesn’t change the fact that I have no right to insist on his perfection, because I could be the one making a mistake tomorrow that has a cost to him.

Also, I knew if I had made the same mistake he had, and he had reacted the same way I did (which, by the way, he never would have), I would have been extremely hurt. He wouldn’t have made me feel small. I knew that, and I still felt the desire to assume that I had a right to make my offended-ness known.

The Bigger Picture

Okay, so… here’s the thing.

Here is why I knew so deep down that my reaction was unacceptable, and sinful on my part.

Straight up Truth: My husband is Imago Dei. He is created in the Image of God. And that, in and of itself means he is to be shown dignity, at all times. And it means that he has immense value by virtue of his being God’s Image Bearer.

And I knew that, and I felt myself wrestling inside with knowing that reality and still wanting to claim some right of my own to be offended, and let him know it.

Here’s the other thing.

I have no right to respond in sin, because of my Christian faith.

I believe that Jesus, One who had never made a mistake, had never sinned, who had every. single. right. to claim offense, willingly, and with love, took every. single. sin. of every. single. person. from the entire history and future of the entire world upon Himself.

And he died on that cross, partly because of the sin I committed against my husband over this matter. My sin over this is one of the reasons He hung there. My sin is like one of the thorns pressing down upon His head, and piercing His skull, and causing Him pain.

Jesus never claimed his rights. He who had the most right in the world to be offended, took all of everything upon himself. He never for one moment has given us anything less than the utmost dignity. He never for one moment has given us anything less than perfect love.

Colossians 3 states:

12 So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and [k]patience; 13 bearing with one another, and forgiving each other, whoever has a complaint against anyone; just as the Lord forgave you, so also should you. 14 Beyond all these things put on love, which is [l]the perfect bond of unity.

I know I was anything but compassionate, kind, humble, gentle, or patient over this matter. And I was slow to forgive. But the real kicker, is the part that says “Just as the Lord forgave you.”

And, at that, I have to humbly surrender. At that, I realize I have no rights. I have no claim to offense. And I need to extend the same grace extended to me, to others. Especially to my husband when he makes a mistake.

How Deep The Father’s Love

I am so thankful for the Lord’s forgiveness in my own life, but it is also so convicting right now. I am acutely aware how I tried to claim something I have no right to claim. And it came at the cost of giving my Imago Dei husband the dignity that is his.

I know I’ll be heading to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation this coming weekend, for this, and other things. And I’ll be looking forward to audibly hearing that unmerited forgiveness from Jesus. I’m also looking forward to my penance. I suspect it might be something I can do to show my husband love and dignity. Which will be just the medicine I need.

One of my favorite hymns of all times is How Deep The Father’s Love For Us.

It’s just such a beautiful reminder of the most beautiful Truth. I can’t even grasp how much Jesus took upon himself on the cross. But I know it means my salvation.

And I know I can, once again, receive the forgiveness that is there for me through my faith in Him. And I can be thankful that He promises to shape me more into His likeness, as long as I continue to allow Him to work in my soul.

I am thankful that I know I don’t have to live in guilt. That I can pick up and move on and work towards better reactions in the future … but it just smarts a bit realizing you’re wrong. Humble pie doesn’t always taste super great.

And, finally, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention JP. Because I can also be thankful for a gracious husband, who witnessed my struggle, and accepted the apology of his Much Too Quick To Anger Wife, and for the example he sets of patience and grace within our own marriage.

Lorelei

 

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The Invisible Struggle: My Journey Through Postpartum Depression and Anxiety, Then and Now

One of the biggest things I’ve learned through my own journeys through postpartum depression and anxiety is how good we humans can be at looking like we are okay. That’s partly why if I know you, and you have had a baby recently, there’s a good chance I will do my best to check in and ask you how you are doing. And, based on my own history, I might ask you more than once to make sure things haven’t changed, or to give you another chance to tell someone if something is wrong and you’ve still been keeping it to yourself. And if I’ve missed any of my friends because you seemed to be doing fine, I’m sorry. I know better.

And that’s also why I feel it’s important for me to be honest about my own experiences. I hope that women will be able to talk about postpartum issues easily and without shame and get the help that they need before things get too serious.

You see, this isn’t my first time at the postpartum depression/anxiety rodeo. But, there are some very significant differences in how things are going for me this time, versus how they went for me before.

The first time I had significant postpartum issues that required intervention was after the birth of our son, August. The second, right now, after the birth of our little Mary.

Then, 

I stayed silent. Even after I knew something was terribly wrong, I kept it inside for weeks.

Now,

I started seeing a psychologist 2 months prior to Mary’s birth. She taught me strategies for dealing with depressive feelings and anxiety that I could later put to use if needed. I knew I had a significantly higher risk of dealing with depression/anxiety this time because I had experienced it before. I didn’t want to be silent if it happened again.

Then,

Postpartum anxiety and depression hit me like a freight train. I was having panic attacks, which I had never experienced before. I was driving erratically.I felt like I was stuck behind a wall and couldn’t access my own life. I was spending time thinking about the least traumatic ways to make myself disappear. All very abnormal for me, and all very scary. And I didn’t see it coming.

Now,

We knew exactly what to look for, and didn’t take it lightly. JP and I monitored my mental state regularly after the baby’s birth. I kept my counselor updated. I was honest. When, early on, I had some depression, and now, when I’m still dealing with anxiety, the conversation had already been started.

Then,

My treatment plan included me needing to take Zoloft for approximately 6 months. I also did every. single. thing. that I was told would help me recover. I saw a counselor, I exercised, I made myself shower, I started eating right, I let family help. Looking back, I don’t think if it were up to me doing it for myself, that I would have had the strength to do what I needed to do to heal. But as I read about depression, I learned about the effects of a depressed parent on her children. And so I took the medication for their sake. I did what I was supposed to do to recover for their sake. And, after a few weeks, little bits of my normal self began to peek through.

Now,

My treatment plan started before Mary’s birth with developing a relationship with my psychologist. I still see her regularly. I also began implementing all the things I learned the first time around, and the new tools I’d acquired as early as I could. I’m using a light therapy box and taking extra vitamins. Once I was cleared to exercise, I started to exercise. I journaled so I could track my mood and anxiety levels right from the get-go. We hired a postpartum doula to help with cooking, cleaning, laundry, and baby care. My mom comes to help for 3 days every other week. And when I started having symptoms, I put into place the strategies I learned from counseling. I wasn’t hit by a freight train this time around. I knew what to do, and was already getting the support I would need. So, overall, things have been less scary and less severe.

Then,

I considered myself fully recovered by the time my son was 7 months old. I put a lot of hard work into that recovery. And, thankfully, postpartum depression and anxiety is not a chronic issue. It might be reoccuring, depending on whether or not we have any more children, but it is not something you live with forever. And I held on to that hope that first, long, dark time through. Thankfully, it was true. I was totally back to my normal, functioning self. Morning had broken.

Now,

I don’t know how long I have until I will be fully recovered. I’m hopeful that based on the timing of my recovery the first time, that my body chemistry will level itself out by mid-summer, maybe sooner, especially with all I’m doing to help the healing process. I’m managing right now without medication, but I’m needing to keep things really simple. I know from experience that if I try and do too much on a given day, my anxiety will be worse. I know if I don’t get enough sleep, or can’t make up sleep with a nap my anxiety will be worse. I know if I don’t exercise, it will be worse. And, because of how I’ve been able to manage my symptoms much more effectively this time around with this treatment plan, and because we know that pace of life is a huge contributing factor in how well I do on a given day, we’ve had to make a difficult decision to extend my leave from work while I make sure I continue to recover well. This time I’m able to know that I want to recover fully and as soon as possible not only for my children, but also, for myself.

Beyond The Surface

Having postpartum depression and anxiety has helped me to desire to look more deeply in situations where people that might otherwise appear to be fine. We often put our best face forward for the world to see, and that best face can hide some deep pain or struggle underneath. I want to give a couple of personal examples of that, in the hopes that it can continue to remind me and others to extend compassion, and to encourage vulnerability.

Anyone who spotted me driving in the car last week with the kids would have seen what appeared to be a woman, simply driving. But they wouldn’t have known that I overscheduled myself on that day, and we were running late to get Felicity to theater class. In reality, we were going to be 2-3 minutes late. Which for normal Lorelei wouldn’t be a huge deal. But the hustle of trying to get there on time when I had attempted too much triggered my anxiety. I was working very hard to stay calm with the kids, but I assigned more blame on their lack of speed getting ready than I should have. My mind was racing as I tried to utilize the strategies I had learned to keep from panic taking over. And someone looking very closely would have noticed that as I drove, my hands were shaking.

Also this week, friends of mine on Facebook would have seen this picture of JP and I waiting for a concert to start:

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Don’t we look so happy and excited?!

Cute pic. But what this picture doesn’t show is that not even ten minutes later, one of the opening acts came on, and the way the music was mixed was very heavy on the bass. It was so much bass that my insides were shaking. And my thoughts started racing… I thought the building was going to come down, or that something inside my body would stop working from all the shaking. There were people on all sides of me and I felt trapped. I tried to breathe, and tried to ground myself, and stick it out, but I just couldn’t.

None of those thoughts were rational. But that’s how anxiety works. So I used another strategy. I removed myself from the area, and sat out that act’s entire set in the concourse where the sound was much more muted. I told JP I was worried if the main act had that level of bass that I would struggle to be in there during their concert. Thankfully, their sound mix was very different and we were ok. But… the point is, that picture of me didn’t tell the whole story of the night. I didn’t put nearly running out of the area in a panic as my Facebook status for the evening.

I hope to be able to continue to be honest about what I’ve been through with others. Perhaps it will help someone feel less alone. Perhaps it will help someone make a decision to reach out. Because postpartum stuff is nothing to mess around with. Suicide is way up there with other leading causes of maternal death. But, taken seriously, it is so, so very treatable. And you totally get yourself back after you’ve done the hard work to recover, whether that be taking medication for a while, or excercising, or therapy, or any combination of the many, many tools available that help you get yourself back from the darkness.

Other Resources

Below are 3 resources I have taken advantage of at different points in my own postpartum journey, and that I found to be very helpful.

This Isn’t What I Expected. This is an amazing book that helped to normalize my experiences, and start me on the path of having tools to recover. It also has a whole chapter devoted to helping husbands know how to help their wives.

Postpartum Progress. This website contains stories from women about their postpartum experiences. It also has articles and links to resources for help.

Postpartum Support International. A hotline that connects women to resources for help.

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