A Crazy Idea
“James, can I talk to you for a bit?” I asked my husband one warm July evening.
Our family was resting in our Florida room, an enclosed porch with windows looking out to the backyard. In the summer months, when our perennials were blooming and our lawn shone a bright emerald green, it felt like sitting in an enclosed garden. A light summer breeze swept through the open windows, stirring the wind chimes dangling from the ceiling.
The kids were playing nicely at the patio table, eating bowls of dry cereal and sending multicolored balls down the marble run. James and I relaxed on the room’s carpeting.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now,” I continued excitedly, “and I wanted to talk to you about it.”
James set down his phone and smiled. “Sure, Mary. What is it?”
“I would really like to have a bigger family,” I announced.
Battlefield of the Mind
“Before I started taking this medication, having more children felt almost impossible,” I admitted. “Almost every day, I felt overwhelmed and stressed out.”
This was true, even before I started having symptoms of PMDD. By the evening of each day, my mind succumbed to racing thoughts, worries about the children, and a nagging sense of dread. My anxious flow of thoughts might go something like this:
If my son doesn’t get enough sleep tonight, then this bad thing and that bad thing will happen.
If James doesn’t help me to get my son to bed on time, then he must not really care about our family.
And if James doesn’t really care about our family, then I will have to do it all myself, and I will do a bad job.
This is how the thoughts usually ended: in Mary doing a “bad job”. I was inadequate, not a good enough mother for my children and my family. And, according to my worries, my caring, responsible husband was now thoughtless.
I knew this way of thinking was both inaccurate and unhelpful. Surely the Lord could make up for everything I lacked as a wife and mother. He was always watching over our family and providing for us – even when I was “doing a bad job”.
Once upon a time in a convent, I had given Jesus everything I had. How could the King of Kings possibly be outdone in generosity? No, He would take care of everything. There was no reason to fear anything at all.
Still, I couldn’t get those fears and worries to go away. With relentless determination, they continued assaulting my peace of mind.
Into the Light
This all changed when I started taking my new medication. Once the first few weeks of adjustment had taken place, my thoughts grew quieter, and my worrying decreased.
In the evening hours and throughout my day, my mind was now free. I began enjoying time with my family, and dreamed about a better, brighter future for us.
“I’m feeling better now,” I confided to James with a big smile. “Like I can do more. We are learning new ways to help our son, and getting him the support that he really needs. Also…my PMDD may actually be a sign that my fertility is changing—perhaps in a positive way. If we wanted to try for another child now, he or she would be 3 years apart from Elizabeth.”
After the difficulties of my last pregnancy, I’d told James that I wanted to wait three years before having more children. I wanted to make sure I had the energy to care for my first two children while they were small, before growing our family.
“Wouldn’t it be so much fun to have more kids?” My eyes glowed bright with excitement. “Our house would be filled with mischief and noise and laughter. There would always be something going on. Sure, it would be chaotic at first, while the kids are little. But our lives would be fuller. Richer.”
“Wow.” James sounded surprised. “Are you sure you’re ready to try again, Mary? I remember how hard it was for you last time. You don’t think this is just your new medication talking?”
I shook my head. “No, although the medication is helping me to think more clearly and positively about things. Before, I didn’t want to try for more children yet, because I didn’t feel I could handle it mentally. But now I have this medication to help me stay focused and calm.”
Fearing Our Fertility
“And…I’ve been listening to Jen Fulwiler’s podcast on my phone. She’s been talking a lot about how women in our secular culture are afraid of their own fertility. Jen says she used to be like that, too, in her early twenties.”
Jen Fulwiler is an author and stand-up comic that I’d been following for a while. She had six kids in 8 years, and still managed to write a memoir during that time. Now she tours around the country as a stand-up comedian, social media influencer, and podcaster.
“Jen Fulwiler says women don’t need to be afraid of their fertility. They can be good wives and mothers, while also following their passions and dreams. In fact, their God-given talents – she calls them ‘blue flames’- can help them to be even more joyful and loving women and mothers.”
James nodded. He knew all about the “blue flame” idea. I talked about it all the time.
According to Jen Fulwiler, each person has at least one passion or talent that makes them come “fully alive”. She calls this a person’s “blue flame”—something that brings a person energy and excitement, while also blessing the world with something creative and good.
After I read Jen’s book, “Your Blue Flame”, I began to see other people’s blue flames everywhere. My mother-in-law has a blue flame for shopping and for caring for small children. My mom makes beautiful craft creations, and my dad is an excellent speaker and writer. My husband James has a gift for helping others—especially our children—relax and have fun.
My blue flame was writing stories.
What About My Writing?
“What about your job? And your writing?” James asked.
In the past, I’d been afraid that if I had children, I would have to give up my writing. But I knew now that I could find time and ways to write even in the most stressful family circumstances.
“Well, I started blogging for Lisa when I had no time for it.” I began posting on Monastery in My Heart with two kids under three, under quarantine, with virtually no babysitters or outside help. “I’m sure I can find a way to keep writing, even with more children in the house.”
James and I talked about it more, strategized about timing and work and our son’s schooling and where the baby would sleep.
In the end, we decided to go for it.
The “Surprise” Pregnancy
When I took my first pregnancy test a month later, I prepared myself mentally for disappointment. It took us a year to have our son; 8 months for our daughter. This time I wasn’t taking a progesterone treatment, so it might take even longer.
After waiting a few minutes, I glanced at the test. The first faint lines of a blue plus sign appeared in the window: the sign of a positive pregnancy test.
I stared at the test for a while, thinking it must be a mistake, or a figment of my imagination. I just wanted the test to indicate I was pregnant; we couldn’t actually have succeeded during our first month.
The blue plus sign did not go away.
I was shocked. Stunned.
This third pregnancy felt like a miracle. A precious gift.
“Wow,” I told James later, as we both marveled at the speed of our success. “I guess God really did want us to have a baby—like, right now!”
His will seemed written all over this occurrence. For once, it seemed, I had acted upon the Lord’s inspiration at just the right time.
“It’s very flattering.” James came beside me and held me close. He was proud to be a father again.
“We’re going to have another baby, my love,” I whispered.
“Baby number three,” he added.
“Maybe we can have a big family, after all.” This thought made me so happy, I almost cried.
Out of the Darkness, New Life
I spent the next week reflecting over the tremendous news. The evidence indicated that my condition of PMDD marked an increase in my fertility – or at the very least, my sensitivity to it. My symptoms of anxiety and depression had only begun after I reached adolescence, and were almost always linked to my cycle. In other words, my anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideations were directly linked to my fertility.
The very thing that caused me so much suffering, was also the very thing that could produce new life.
What I’d felt inside for so long was death- but what was actually happening was the creation of a new human being. Out of the darkness, the Lord had brought about new life.
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Thank you so much for reading! Please check again soon for a post on parish life and building a “convent of the heart”, right here in the world! 🙂
