![A New and Improved “COEXIST” Bumper Sticker]()
by Catherine | May 14, 2013 | Faith
I think we’ve all seen the other blue “COEXIST” bumper sticker. You know, the one that borrows symbols from various world religions and uses them to spell out the word “COEXIST”?
I’ve always disliked that bumper sticker because, well, I think it sends the message that: 1. it’s enough just to tolerate living next to other people of different beliefs, and 2. that moral relativism is the way to go — we’re all on different paths to the same goal, so just back off if you don’t agree with me.
Thanks to Simcha Fisher, I learned that there’s a new and improved “COEXIST” bumper sticker. 17-year-old Isabel Pope from Ann Arbor, Michigan created it last summer, and here it is:
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| “COEXIST” Bumper Sticker Image from Isalife Pro’s Facebook Page |
From the “Isalife Pro” Facebook Page:
Last summer, at age 17, Isabel had the idea for COEXIST bumper sticker when, stuck in sweaty, going-no-where Ann Arbor traffic, surrounded by a sea of “COEXIST” bumper stickers, she mentioned, “I don’t think they mean COEXIST. Planned Parenthood is right down the street. Not too many people seem to care that babies are NOT coexisting here.”
Out loud, Isabel imagined what a REAL co-exist bumper sticker would look like. Voila. Her imaginings are the design you see on this page.
The bumper sticker finally saw the light of day this past winter, just in time for Father Pavone’s Roe v Wade anniversary visit to Isabel’s parish, St Thomas in Ann Arbor. Father Pavone said of the sticker, “It really challenges the liberal to live up to their own beliefs.”
Now you know what they say: the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to NOT buy the bumper sticker….. so….. order one today!
1 sticker: $3.00
2 for $5
isalifeproductions@gmail.com
If you’d like to order your own new and improved “COEXIST” bumper sticker, contact Isalife Productions at isalifeproductions@gmail.com or via Facebook by searching “isalife pro.”
![From "should have been" to "exactly as it should be"]()
by Catherine | May 9, 2013 | Faith, Family
When we found out we were pregnant in August and due May 20, 2013, I started daydreaming about what May 2013 would look like. Mother’s Day would be a week before my due date, and our son, Walt, would turn 2 the day before my due date. May 2013 would be a month full of celebrations and excitement!
Daydreaming about Baby came to an abrupt end when that pregnancy ended in miscarriage in November. I was twelve weeks along when I started to miscarry, and I ended up having to have an emergency D&C from severe blood loss. We named the baby Thérèse (after St. Thérèse of Lisieux) since we thought she was a girl and thought of her as our own “Little Flower.”
Just as we were beginning to process our emotions, the grieving process was truncated when we found out a month to the day after we lost Thérèse that we were pregnant again. Of course, we were thrilled, but I lived in constant fear that we would lose that baby as well. A few episodes of bleeding and an incident around 11 weeks when my OBGYN couldn’t find Baby’s heartbeat on the doppler didn’t help matters! A few months later, I’m 25 weeks pregnant, and Baby is due August 17–just three months after Thérèse’s due date.
The pain of losing Thérèse is still very real, but it doesn’t take my breath away or reduce me to tears like it used to. During that in between month before we knew the kind of roller coaster ride God had in store for us, I experienced what I’m sure a lot of mothers who have suffered a miscarriage experience. I would be going about my day, trying to lose myself in the ordinariness of laundry, dishes, and changing diapers, and I’d get caught off guard–I’d receive a formula coupon in the mail, an e-mail saying how large my baby was compared to a vegetable, or a bill from the hospital from my emergency D&C. It was tempting to think about how things “should have been.”
I used to dread Thérèse’s due date and thought it would be one of those “I don’t know if I can get out of bed” days. Other moms that are due around Thérèse’s due date are having their babies. Instead of preparing to go into labor with Thérèse at any moment this Mother’s Day weekend, we arranged for her burial in November. We added “Baby Thérèse in heaven” to our family bedtime prayers, and I’m nearing the end of my second trimester with “New Baby.”
This “New Baby” in no way replaces Thérèse, but I’d be lying if I said getting pregnant so soon after losing Thérèse didn’t help with the healing process. I tell our family and friends that having our faith throughout this last year sometimes “feels like cheating.” Without our faith, I don’t know how we would explain the kind of pain we experienced. Instead of falling into despair and constantly thinking about how things should have been, we are confident that things are exactly as they should be. After all, if we believe what we say we believe as Christians, Omniscience knows what He’s doing, right?
Philip and I are confident that God wouldn’t take our precious baby Thérèse from us unless a greater good would come of it. Countless unexpected blessings have already come to fruition that never would have been possible had things gone how they “should have.”
Jeremiah 29:11-14 took on a whole new meaning in light of what we experienced with losing Thérèse.
“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me; when you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you, says the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.”
God knows well the plans He has for us, and I now know that they are plans for my welfare and not for woe. Sure, it hurt like heck when we found out in that ultrasound room that Thérèse had died, and I’ll never forget the emotional trauma of having to miscarry and have an emergency D&C, but I know God allowed it to happen so that I could become an even better wife and mother and bring other countless blessings to our family through it.
Now, we are doubly blessed. We get to have our precious baby Thérèse as our family saint interceding for us from heaven, and, God willing, we will get to meet “New Baby” in August. Obviously, I was excited to meet each of our babies with each pregnancy, but anticipating seeing “New Baby” face to face has a whole new level of drama. I simply cannot wait to look into the eyes of the baby that never would have been had things gone how they “should have” with Thérèse. Now that I know the pain of losing a child, I anticipate the opportunity to try my darnedest to love a baby the best I possibly can from his or her very first breath.
So, I’m not dreading Thérèse’s due date anymore, and I’m excited to celebrate Mother’s Day with our family exactly as it is. I’m sure Thérèse’s due date will be bittersweet when I think about wanting to hold her in my arms. By God’s grace, any sadness I feel will be softened when “New Baby” kicks and I remember that things are exactly as they should be–because He made it so.
 |
| From left to right: 23 weeks with Jane, 27 weeks with Walt, and 25 weeks with “New Baby” |
![From “should have been” to “exactly as it should be”]()
by Catherine | May 9, 2013 | Faith, Family
When we found out we were pregnant in August and due May 20, 2013, I started daydreaming about what May 2013 would look like. Mother’s Day would be a week before my due date, and our son, Walt, would turn 2 the day before my due date. May 2013 would be a month full of celebrations and excitement!
Daydreaming about Baby came to an abrupt end when that pregnancy ended in miscarriage in November. I was twelve weeks along when I started to miscarry, and I ended up having to have an emergency D&C from severe blood loss. We named the baby Thérèse (after St. Thérèse of Lisieux) since we thought she was a girl and thought of her as our own “Little Flower.”
Just as we were beginning to process our emotions, the grieving process was truncated when we found out a month to the day after we lost Thérèse that we were pregnant again. Of course, we were thrilled, but I lived in constant fear that we would lose that baby as well. A few episodes of bleeding and an incident around 11 weeks when my OBGYN couldn’t find Baby’s heartbeat on the doppler didn’t help matters! A few months later, I’m 25 weeks pregnant, and Baby is due August 17–just three months after Thérèse’s due date.
The pain of losing Thérèse is still very real, but it doesn’t take my breath away or reduce me to tears like it used to. During that in between month before we knew the kind of roller coaster ride God had in store for us, I experienced what I’m sure a lot of mothers who have suffered a miscarriage experience. I would be going about my day, trying to lose myself in the ordinariness of laundry, dishes, and changing diapers, and I’d get caught off guard–I’d receive a formula coupon in the mail, an e-mail saying how large my baby was compared to a vegetable, or a bill from the hospital from my emergency D&C. It was tempting to think about how things “should have been.”
I used to dread Thérèse’s due date and thought it would be one of those “I don’t know if I can get out of bed” days. Other moms that are due around Thérèse’s due date are having their babies. Instead of preparing to go into labor with Thérèse at any moment this Mother’s Day weekend, we arranged for her burial in November. We added “Baby Thérèse in heaven” to our family bedtime prayers, and I’m nearing the end of my second trimester with “New Baby.”
This “New Baby” in no way replaces Thérèse, but I’d be lying if I said getting pregnant so soon after losing Thérèse didn’t help with the healing process. I tell our family and friends that having our faith throughout this last year sometimes “feels like cheating.” Without our faith, I don’t know how we would explain the kind of pain we experienced. Instead of falling into despair and constantly thinking about how things should have been, we are confident that things are exactly as they should be. After all, if we believe what we say we believe as Christians, Omniscience knows what He’s doing, right?
Philip and I are confident that God wouldn’t take our precious baby Thérèse from us unless a greater good would come of it. Countless unexpected blessings have already come to fruition that never would have been possible had things gone how they “should have.”
Jeremiah 29:11-14 took on a whole new meaning in light of what we experienced with losing Thérèse.
“For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me; when you seek me with all your heart, I will be found by you, says the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.”
God knows well the plans He has for us, and I now know that they are plans for my welfare and not for woe. Sure, it hurt like heck when we found out in that ultrasound room that Thérèse had died, and I’ll never forget the emotional trauma of having to miscarry and have an emergency D&C, but I know God allowed it to happen so that I could become an even better wife and mother and bring other countless blessings to our family through it.
Now, we are doubly blessed. We get to have our precious baby Thérèse as our family saint interceding for us from heaven, and, God willing, we will get to meet “New Baby” in August. Obviously, I was excited to meet each of our babies with each pregnancy, but anticipating seeing “New Baby” face to face has a whole new level of drama. I simply cannot wait to look into the eyes of the baby that never would have been had things gone how they “should have” with Thérèse. Now that I know the pain of losing a child, I anticipate the opportunity to try my darnedest to love a baby the best I possibly can from his or her very first breath.
So, I’m not dreading Thérèse’s due date anymore, and I’m excited to celebrate Mother’s Day with our family exactly as it is. I’m sure Thérèse’s due date will be bittersweet when I think about wanting to hold her in my arms. By God’s grace, any sadness I feel will be softened when “New Baby” kicks and I remember that things are exactly as they should be–because He made it so.
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| From left to right: 23 weeks with Jane, 27 weeks with Walt, and 25 weeks with “New Baby” |
![Not-So-Grace-Filled Moments]()
by Catherine | Apr 29, 2013 | Family
“Terrible twos”? Puh-leeeeeeeeeeeeeease!
In my book, the “terrible twos” have absolutely nothing on the neck-throttling threes.
No, no, no, put down the phone! You don’t need to call CPS! But, seriously, this mama needs a safe space to talk about what’s been going down around here with one particular three-year-old.
The last few months with our three-year-old, Jane, have been a wild roller coaster. Within the same day (or hour), we reach the highest highs and the lowest lows. One moment, I feel like my heart is going to burst with love, and I can’t catch my breath because I’m overwhelmed with love for my little sweetheart. There are so many wonderful things that I love about this stage: Jane is delightfully affectionate, and her “love language” is most definitely physical touch. She fills my tank with her sweet squeezes and kisses throughout the day. Her imagination and sense of humor helps me to take myself less seriously and look at life through her innocent eyes. Her excitement to learn about Christ and His Church, and her attempts to live her faith well encourage me to be a better person on a daily basis.
Then, there are the not-so-grace-filled moments–for her, but mostly for me. I started saying a little prayer before my feet hit the floor everyday. (I know, I know, I should be getting up before the kids and starting my day in prayer, but I’m just not there yet. I’m working on it.) Usually, my prayer before my feet hit the floor goes something like, “God, please help me to be the wife and mother you want me to be today. Blessed Mother, please give me a sprinkling of your perfect patience and tender love for my children and all those that we meet. Amen.”
The day gets started, and I put forth my best effort from the get-go. I’m like this lady with the chocolate cake.
I’m lovey dovey, I do all of the little things that only moms know about that make the kids’ day start out right. We sing songs as we get dressed, I make their breakfast just how they like it, and then, it begins–all of those things that make me refer to these times as the “neck-throttling threes.”
What gets my blood boiling? What could my sweet, little, perfect Jane be doing that makes me want to put myself in a time-out? Well, let’s see…among the usual suspects these days are: purposeful dawdling, selective hearing, blatant disobeying, hitting Walt, emotional manipulation, and the whhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiining. Oh, the whining! It’s mostly the whining!
I pull out all of the tricks in my mom tool belt to keep those blood boiling moments at bay: we plan lots of outings/play dates, maintain our routine whenever possible, eat well-balanced meals, build in individual playtime and cuddle time, shine a light on their good behavior, etc., etc. Nonetheless, I’m reaching my breaking point faster and more frequently these days, especially with Jane.
I’m convinced it all boils down to one thing: Jane shows moments of self-control, patience, and making good choices. In those moments, I know that she can know better, and sometimes she even chooses to do the right thing. She’ll put her arm up to smack Walt when he hits her, and she’ll stop. She’ll offer Walt the last bite of her Oreo. She’ll do something I told her not to and say a sincere “I’m sorry” before I have a chance to process what happened. She’s learning. She gets it–sometimes. These moments make me fall into the trap of thinking that she is capable of making those good choices on a regular basis, and they make the moments when she makes the bad choices more frustrating.
Logically, I know she’s just doing her job as a three-year-old. As my pediatrician says, she is “developmentally appropriate.” Jane is doing all of the things a three-year-old is supposed to be doing: testing limits, asserting her independence, and questioning everything. Knowing this doesn’t make the day-to-day any less infuriating. At 3, Jane isn’t supposed to do everything I ask immediately, maintain perfect emotional equilibrium, or exhibit patience and understanding when things don’t go her way. Come to think of it, I don’t do all of those things on a regular basis…
Nonetheless, as a mama, I know I need to rise above the neck-throttling threes and get some strategies for the blood-boiling moments. I have a fiery temper that I’ve struggled with since childhood. When I’m at my wit’s end and we’re having one of those days (and it’s only 9 a.m.), I can go from 0 to 60 in seconds. After pulling out all of the stops and having my patience tested to no end, I feel invisible unless I’m yelling.
Yesterday morning, I was still bummed that Philip had to work unexpectedly, but I decided to make it a productive morning and go to the grocery store. Getting out the door with a 3- and a 2-year-old is a battle anyway, but the kids really battled getting out the door for a solid half an hour. They didn’t want to have anything to do with getting ready–brushing teeth, combing hair, putting on shoes, zipping jackets, getting buckled in the car seats, etc., etc. Oh, and the whhhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiining! (Why does the whining get to me so much, anyway?) Anyway, by the time I had gotten them restrained and myself into the driver’s seat, I had had it. I turned around, looked at the kids, and yelled, “STOP! STOP!!! STOP!!!!!! No more whining! Mommy needs you to be good listeners and use nice voices.” (Yes, the irony isn’t lost on me that I was asking my toddlers to use nice voices as I was yelling at them…) Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I heard the good angel on my shoulder saying, “Ohhhhhhhh, Catherine. You shouldn’t speak to your children like that.” Yet, I still did it. Then, I looked forward, said a little “I’m sorry for being such a jerk” prayer in my head, and turned back to the kids. “Mommy is sorry for yelling. Mommy shouldn’t yell at you. I love you very much. Can you please use nice voices and be good listeners?”
Jane responded in her sweetest voice possible, “Yes, Mommy.” Ugh, if yelling itself didn’t make me feel like a jerk, hearing her little voice and seeing her smile made it even worse. She has a way of doing that. Jane will throw me a one-two punch of the worst of the worst toddler behavior, I’ll want to yell like the crazy mom that I can be (and sometimes I do), then she’ll take my breath away with her sweetness.
I asked Philip for a little quiet time tonight a
fter dinner because I needed a break from the kids. Minutes later, the doorknob to our bedroom jangled and Jane walked in. I was a little bummed that my quiet time was being interrupted so quickly, but I mustered up my sweetest voice for her. “Hi, honey. What are you doing?” Then, she hit me with the sweetness. “I’m just loving you. Can I come and sit with you?” She ran and grabbed her little LeapFrog computer and sat in bed next to me while I wrote most of this post.
So, I’m a work in progress. I’m doing the best I can as a mom. I’m working on the yelling. I’m trying to be a good example for the kids. I’ll keep working on the waking up before the kids for prayer time. I’ll keep messing up, and I’ll keep asking the kids, Philip, and God for forgiveness on a daily basis. I’ll never stop trying.
God called me to this vocation because He knew it would be the most sanctifying for me. He knew I needed to prune a lot within myself. Philip and the kids uniquely help me to become a better person on a daily basis. The process isn’t always pretty, and some days what I see in the mirror is downright terrifying, but that’s what purgation is all about. Marriage is the vocation for me because it purifies exactly the areas that need it most. Here’s to tomorrow’s tests!
![Warning: Be Careful With Pity Parties. God Might Give You a Reality Check.]()
by Catherine | Apr 27, 2013 | Family
I was chatting with some gal pals at a MOPS meeting this morning about our weekend plans. I said I was excited because Philip had the entire weekend off and that we were going to enjoy a quiet weekend of family time.
On his way home from work, Philip got a text saying that he needed to come in on back-up to work at the hospital from 7 a.m. Saturday to 10 a.m. Sunday.
Goodbye, weekend plans!
Philip shared the news as gently as he could. He said we would make tonight extra special, rent a movie, and get some ice cream after the kids went to bed. He suggested we stop at a nearby park and that we pick up dinner so that I could have a night off from cooking.
Philip was doing a great job of cheering me up, but I couldn’t help whining for a bit. I decided throwing myself a little pity party on Facebook with a “woe is me” status update about our ruined weekend plans was a good option.
Cue the violins! Goodbye our quiet little weekend as a family. Philip just got called in on backup to work 7 am tomorrow to 10 am Sunday. Residency, I am officially over you!
Waaaaaaaah! Waaaaaaaah! Waaaaaaaaah!
We drove to a nearby park, and the kids had a ball. Our kiddos were the youngest ones there by a long shot, and Philip and I probably looked like helicopter parents. While the other parents sat on the nearby benches and chatted, I stood in “spotters ready” position behind Walt as he went up the steep ladder, and Philip kept an eye on daredevil Jane as she went from one obstacle to the next.
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| Janie & Walt on the slides |
Eventually, the other families left for dinner, and we were left with the playground to ourselves. Without Jane trying to imitate the big kids’ moves and with Walt exclusively using the toddler-friendly stairs to get to the slides, Philip and I decided to sit on one of the nearby benches while we watched the action.
Then, it happened–one of those terrible slow motion moments when you know what’s going to happen next, but you’re too far away to do anything to stop it. Walt had been sitting on the top platform of the jungle gym and turned himself around to go down the slide like he had 50 times. At the last second, while still scooting backwards, he changed directions. His little foot caught the edge of the platform perpendicular to the slide. Naturally, this was the side of the platform with an opening for a spiral pole like this:
Only, this particular drop-off was 6-feet high. One of us, I can’t remember who, was mid-sentence when Walt changed directions and he caught his foot on the edge of the platform. “Philip! Philip! Philip!” I said as I pointed and stood up. I knew I couldn’t stop what was going to happen, so I prayed as I watched it happen that it wouldn’t be too terrible.
Walt didn’t realize he was scooting himself off of the platform. He fell backward between the platform and spiral pole. By some miracle, he didn’t hit his head on the 6-foot descent, and the poor guy landed with a big “thud” on his back. Philip picked him up instantly. Walt was murmuring quietly and the color drained from his face. He straightened his back like he wanted out of Philip’s arms. Then, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went limp.
This, my friends, is when you’re glad your husband is a pediatric resident. Walt came to in a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity, especially because we weren’t sure if something more serious was wrong. After he came back to, he didn’t act hurt or concussed. After holding him for a bit, Philip suggested we let him try to play for a few minutes to observe his movements and check for signs of a concussion. Per usual, Philip remained calm and collected, and I was so glad he was there.
Children are so resilient! Within minutes, Walt was climbing, laughing, and wanting to go back down the slides. We remained helicopter parents for five more minutes before we decided Walt was ok, and Philip announced, “It’s time for dinner! Let’s get in the car!” We knew Walt was back to his regular old self when he said, “Hungry! Hungry! Hungry!” and made a beeline for the minivan.
Since he’s still rear-facing in his carseat and has a tendency to space out during car rides anyway, we kept asking him questions to check on him.
“Walt, who’s your favorite choo-choo?”
“PERCY!”
“Walt, are you hungry?”
“FRENCH FRIES!”
The little guy ate a great dinner, and he seems to be doing just fine, so hopefully the scary moment has passed.
While I’m still bummed that Philip has to unexpectedly work a 24-hour shift tomorrow, I’m grateful for the reality check that our trip to the playground provided me:
- We all have our health.
- Philip is employed, and we’ve found a way for me to stay at home with the kids.
- Philip’s job as a pediatric resident provides him with the medical know-how to take care of kiddos when these crises arise.
- He had tonight off to be there when we needed him.
- He’ll be able to take care of other kids at the hospital whose families desperately need his help, and he’ll give them the peace of mind that he gave me tonight.
I suppose life isn’t all that bad.
I suppose I can share Philip tomorrow.
I
suppose it’s not the end of the world.
I’m probably still not going to like it, and that’s okay. I don’t have to like it because, well, it doesn’t matter if I like it. I’m not the one who matters. When Philip is able to provide his patients and their families with top-notch medical care in a crisis situation tomorrow, through the night, and into Sunday morning, it won’t matter that I’m bummed he’s gone.
Tonight taught me that I don’t have to like Philip’s absence for his presence somewhere else to matter. After tonight, I realized that his absence from us makes his presence for families in crisis possible. And, you know what? That’s pretty cool.
