Pro-Life Advocacy

There are days when Pro-Life advocacy is hard. The days when I'm overwhelmed by the real, human tragedy being played out constantly all across the globe. The sheer magnitude of all the lost, the injured, the unwanted... It can crush the heart. None of the days I've experienced so far come close to the days I feel like I've failed in my work to care for women in crisis. Failed to give all the support needed to enable someone to make the choice they want most, but are pressured to deny. Days like that I do the only thing I can: pray and love. Love unconditionally and endlessly. There is no room for me to judge, but there is always room for more support and more love.

Our culture is so hostile to life that it clouds the view of intelligent, educated and loving women and men. It teaches them to avoid parenthood at any cost. It teaches that our sexuality is only a tool for our pleasure. It teaches that our inability to scientifically measure personhood in the womb gives us license to strip our children of their humanity. It teaches us that our children are commodities that can be refused or sought after, again, at any cost. Our society, which accuses me of being too "faith-based" in my opinions, has been busy, quietly selling its own narrative and set of values. People have been sold the lie that they have no dignity unless they are independent and in a position of power. They have been taught to believe that their position of power over another being gives them moral impunity. They have been taught that their bodily autonomy trumps the bodily autonomy of the life they participated in creating.

The truth of the matter, the truth that science hints at but can't fully explain, is that each life is precious from conception to natural death. The innate dignity of each child, a gift we cannot demand but are blessed to welcome, exists from the start. The sad juxtaposition is that our culture is happy to see each born child as the unique and beautiful beings they are, but denies that uniqueness and beauty because of geography and dependence on an unwilling parent. Our culture is struggling to hold apart this opposite vision and it is so incongruous for those of us with eyes to see. On the one side, we see Tiger Moms, Helicopter parents, pinterest parents. Parents so convinced that their children are incredibly special and worth every excess imaginable. On the other side, we see our culture convinced that babies are only worth our effort and a future of bento box lunches, themed parties, expensive photo shoots, if we decide to ascribe dignity arbitrarily.

I have been blessed with 5 pregnancies and in turn 5 incredible children. I know so deeply how difficult pregnancy can be either through my own breadth of experience or through that of many friends. I can't begin to imagine the taunting and cruelty some young women carrying unplanned pregnancies endure on top of physical symptoms. A young pregnant woman I know was physically assaulted at her school and also endures constant insistence from grandparents to abort. She stands tall and brave, guarding her pregnancy with enough love to break a thousand hardened hearts. I can understand the temptation to run away from that pain. When I asked her how she reacts to people telling her to abort, she told me that she focuses on the fact that Mom's protect their children. Period.  Our society is broken. Many are too busy judging these women to give them what they need: support to endure the 9 months of loving sacrifice while being constantly pressured and insulted.

If you need to see the face of Christ, look in the eyes of one of these brave mothers. Look at her face and see the truth: Life is sacred. Sacrifice has purpose. Those who make brave, life-giving choices are often fighting a battle every moment of their pregnancy. And if they do give in to the immense pressure to escape it and choose an abortion, don't leave your love at the door of the clinic. Don't ever stop loving these women. Say yes to their innate dignity and keep supporting and loving them.

Leftover Soup

When we started getting farm fresh vegetables and fruit from our CSA I found myself frequently puzzled by what to do with all the stalks, leaves and general leftovers of certain veggies. Swiss chard leaves are great tossed into a quick stir fry, but I don't have the patience to wait for the stalks to get tender. Celery leaves smell beautiful but I was mystified by them. I didn't even know garlic had scapes or stalks. This dilemma repeats itself ad nauseam with every new box. After months of putting more of these extras in the compost than anywhere else, I started a freezer bag and began tossing things in. Whenever the bag gets full or the mood strikes me I take my humble cast offs and make them into a flavourful and hearty soup! Here's a recipe for today's leftover soup, but you can heavily modify with whatever you have:

1 frozen turkey leg (bought on sale)
1 frozen broccoli stalk
1 bunch Swiss chard stalks
1 garlic stalk
1 bunch celery leaves
4 medium carrots (only fresh veg. All others are frozen)
1/2 cup pot barley (that was lingering in my pantry)
The end of a container of chicken stock (because I had it)
Spice to taste (I used s&p and some curry powder for some kick)

Leave it on medium heat all day. You'll need to strain it to pull out the bones and chop up the veggies. It'll be hot so give yourself some time. It'll taste even better if you let it rest overnight and cook it all day the next day.

Mental Strength

As I sit here reflecting on the past few weeks since the latest (partial) diagnosis came down for my husband, I am left crushed for the weight of it on him and awed by his strength. He was recently diagnosed with anxiety disorder and some form of depression. Both have been cunning demons, lurking in dark corners, pouncing on him when he least expects it. Since long before I've known him, anxiety has stolen his peace for months at a time.   I can theorize on the whys and hows, but what matters most of all is that after years of fighting in the dark, he is finally getting the help he needs.

When I first met him, the monster hid under the disguise of diabetes. He was just tired, the Doctors surmised, from his blood sugars being too high. The weakness he felt even when his sugars were normal and he ate with precision were the price of years living with chronic illness.

Later as he had spells of muscle weakness and forgetfulness, they sent him for a battery of tests. He saw neurologists, cardiologists, gastroenterologists, and many more ists, each ordering tailored tests that would surely show the underlying cause. Everything came back clean, although his heart rate jumped on several occasions. So the Docs each dropped him. He wasn't their problem. For a while the symptoms subsided, and no brilliant Dr. House showed up to pursue his case. He was handed back to our baffled family doctor. Everyone simply told him to get his blood sugar and diet under control as though he wasn't trying. As though he wanted to endure the progression of his chronic illness without fighting and railing against it.

Then the spells started up again. He'd fall down. He'd be too weak to get up. He had awful hallucinations. He would wake up in a panic repeating the same thing over and over again, covered head to toe with sweat and tears. This would happen in cycles as stresses came and went, often lasting for the better part of the day for weeks. Then one morning as he was clearly overwhelmed, his leg shaking rhythmically, I saw it. I recognized it in his eyes. How had I missed it? Anyone who has had a full blown panic attack or seen someone have them knows the look I mean. Complete helplessness. The look of a person drowning. That same day we went to our family doctor and told her what should have been so obvious: he suffers from some sort of anxiety disorder. I could see the light turn on for her too. How had we missed it?

Since then he has started some meds to go along with therapy he was already getting. He is also going on a silent retreat to work on strengthening his spirit. Despite all the drama and struggles, all of this has left me in awe of him. Looking back he has been fighting an impossible battle alone for years. While I could easily tag him with label the of mental illness, what I see more than anything is mental strength. Since before we met he has been battling a chemical imbalance that was swallowing him up alive, and yet he has been the most giving, loving and forgiving man I've ever met. He has been an incredible father and husband. I look forward to sharing this part of our journey (with all its hills and valleys) with him.

Already we have been blessed to see the change in his heart as he labours to chip away at the darkness. God is with us and God is with him. His suffering is not without purpose. So, please join me in praying for him as he works towards finding the right balance.

One Year

Tuesday is the one year anniversary of my Mom's breast cancer diagnosis. I am so proud of the year she's had. We had lost nearly all hope in September and October, only to see her bounce back so fast we were left breathless with awe. I am grateful for all the compassionate doctors and nurses, and my dearest friend, a talented physiotherapist, who helped Mom steal back her mobility and energy.

All our carefully carved out schedules were thrown out the window and instead became (by choice) consumed in the journey of this year. Which meds? How much metastases? Is the oxygen tube pinched? Every visit is precious even when kids are wild. The kids remain partially oblivious to the darkness that was gnawing at her bones, which, oddly, showed up as blinding brightness on scans. As the light fades to pinpoints on scans, the darkness retreats from her bones. Hope for more months. Hope for more years. Hope that the baby who was a newborn this time last year will get to visit and laugh and remember his Grammie too.

So here we are. Twelve months so far of snatching moments with her, struggling to create memories for the smallest ones, and working always to push down the burning, aching feeling that threatens to steal the joy we are squeezing out of each day. We have shared birthdays (some of which she was too sick to remember), witnessed my parents renew with poignant truth their vows of nearly 40 years (in sickness and in health...), and even watched her walk down the aisle with my oldest brother at his wedding in PEI. We have attended plays at the local theatre (whose closing anthem still carries us out the door with smiles on sun filled days), shared stories about bees, attended Mass for Christmas morning (after they said she'd never see another Christmas), saw my eldest daughter read at Mass twice, relaxed on a bench while the kids played in the yard and kept watch on a blooming blueberry bush.

I don't know where we will find ourselves this time next year. That's for God to take care of. What I do know is that He and my Mom will keep surprising all of us. I know that this journey is one worth walking because the company is great. I know that in the years to come when things get harder again, we will look back and see the incredible miracle that every moment has been since August 19, 2013. We will be grateful that God is gentle with our hearts and plans the manner and means of all things. Most of all, we will cry out that He is good, He is our one defense and righteousness, and bless His Holy Name.

Recipe: Potato Zucchini Waffles

In a fit breastfeeding hunger I had a craving from the depths of my soul for potato pancakes (breastfeeding me wants ALL THE CARBS). I'd read on the Twitters that they can be made in a waffle iron and felt that now was the perfect time to try out that method as my pan fried ones were a sloppy mess. I knew I had some new potatoes from our CSA looking to be used so I was pretty jazzed to get started. I am nothing if not an improviser in the kitchen, so what started out as potato pancakes quickly became a savoury meal for 6 (poor Dad is at work and missed it. Based on the kids reception we'll be adding this to our menu regularly). So here's the recipe:

Makes 6-8 waffles depending on how thin you ladle themaw

6-8 shredded medium potatoes
1-2 shredded medium peeled zucchini
4 minced garlic scapes (I used my magic bullet)
6 eggs
Salt and pepper to taste

Start off by turning your waffle iron on to the highest heat. It'll take a while to warm up. Next shred up the potatoes and zucchini. Rinse them and either pat them thoroughly or, if you have one, spin them out in a salad spinner. Next mince the garlic scapes up as small as you can. They're going to add a burst of savoury flavour and make your breath pretty stinky. Whatever. Worth it! Add them to the zucchini and potatoes and add salt and pepper. Lastly stir in the eggs and make sure everything is evenly coated. As it sits the eggs will fall to the bottom so stir before you ladle it out each time. By now your waffle iron should be ready. Mine has a great non-stick coating so I didn't need any oil. If you use oil or butter try as small an amount as you can. Ladle it on and spread it out nice and thin. The eggs will fluff around the potatoes giving a more even exterior so if you lay it on too heavily there may be some egg run off at first. Let it sit for 12-15 minutes. The outside (especially the bottom) should brown up nicely and the inside will be tender.

The kids had theirs with ketchup because they're... well... kids. Baby and I ate them unadorned. They were delicious and flavorful. The babe ate a half of a huge waffle without throwing any on the ground, which is something of a miracle for our tiny food critic!

Enjoy!

TV Detox

When we have a new baby or are sick, I find we really lean on television to make those hard days go more smoothly. In the moment I am so grateful for Netflix, but after even a few days of reckless bingeing on super hero shows (our latest favourite), I can already feel the consequences. For me, TV encourages me to be sedentary. I don't have to entertain anyone and, honestly, I get drawn in by the flashing lights and drama of their shows. For the kids, it becomes their sole focus. "What can we watch today? Just one more? I didn't get to pick MY favourite!" It gets exhausting and honestly tempting to just give in and watch all our waking hours just to keep the whining down. The thing is, TV loses its value as a treat when it's being watched all the time. So, we're left with a bad habit we need to break.

In my experience the best option is to go cold turkey. I try not to make a big deal out of it. When they ask I just say "not right now" and offer another activity instead. They need to be eased back into self directed play. With that in mind, I get involved as much as possible. Besides just turning them outside (an obvious choice in the warm weather), I make sure I have an arsenal of activities ready. Sometimes I find a project they can look forward to over a whole week is a great distraction. For example, this week we're making a papier maché volcano. We've already made the structure, so now we're waiting for it to dry (may take a while as preschoolers are of the more is more school of thought when it comes to paste use). Once it's dry we'll paint it and once that dries we'll do the baking soda and vinegar eruption. In between I've stocked them up with lots to colour, some easy science projects and things like modeling clay. I'm also adding more reading chapter books out loud for restful moments.

It takes a lot of patience, but all of that is worth it to see the fog lifted off their brains. I love TV as much as the next person but there is such a thing as too much.

A Long Year

It's hard to believe it, but my baby is going to have his first birthday at the end of the month. It has been a joyful, wild, and at times difficult year. He has been a source of constant delight to our whole family. The darling of his brothers and sisters, he is full of smiles at almost all times. He seems days away from starting to walk, although I suspect like his older brother he will wait as long as possible to actually take his steps without a walker. My baby, if I can still call him that, spends most of his day getting into mischief and tearing around the main level with the help of a variety of walking devices and anything he can stand upright with and push for a distance. Just the other day he stood up and pushed the kids' little table clear across the room. We're constantly having to pull things up out of his long reach. A delightful conundrum to see him so mobile and curious.

During the first year of his sweet life, the greater life of our family has been turned on its ear. Our usual routine has changed dramatically and certain things, like our housework, have fallen completely apart. Our once moderately untidy home seems almost beyond reprieve. We're still co-sleeping (a first for us for this length of time) so his nursery has become the de facto storage room (that and every other closet, empty corner and flat surface). Our project will be to re-claim that, hopefully before his first birthday. Already this week we've re-organized the girls' room, adding back in the dressers we left out when we moved into our townhouse. We did that primarily to keep the kids from tossing all their clothes on the floor. With their bunk bed and newer laminate flooring their room looks brand new. All it needs is a coat of paint and baseboards to complete the effect. Next on our list is to re-organize baby boy's room so we can slowly get him in his crib. We want him used to sleeping in the crib before we move it down the hall to his brothers' room. That'll happen once we lay the new laminate in there and set up their bunk bed. Another year of big changes ahead.

Not to say that all the changes are due to our wee baby boy. Although his birth caused the usually fog of exhaustion, that wore off somewhere around the 4 month mark. While we were dealing with new baby love, my husband has been doing battle with his chronic illnesses (diabetes and gastroparesis). Of late he's been fighting the most persistent and long lasting case of cellulitis in his leg. Poor man works so blessed hard for us, and despite all the setbacks his health causes, he can't be kept down. God continues to bless us and we're fighting hard to keep our joy. The other reason for our topsy turvy year has been my Mom's terminal cancer diagnosis. She is daily doing battle for her health and despite an early prognosis of only a few months, she has been steadily improving her health and her prognosis. It has reminded our little family how precious every day is with our loved ones. We have been trying to spend two or more days a week visiting her, providing as much entertainment as exhaustion I suspect. The bonus has been of course more time with my Dad and brother (beloved and doting Uncle). The kids are being blessed with lots of fond memories they can treasure for their whole life.

What should have brought our family down has been a season of miracles, both big and small. God only knows what the second year of our baby's life will bring, but I trust in His mercy. He is good, and while circumstances may not always seem bright, I feel His loving care surrounds our family, protecting us.