Story of Pushing Taisia into the World

(It's a bit detailed because I want to remember everything.)

October 8, 2006 around 5a or earlier, I got up to make another bathroom run. On the way I felt a very small, wet gush. What the..? I threw on the lights and "Andrei! I think my water just broke!" Now fully awake, excited and a little confused, we debated on whether it was my bag of waters trickling down my leg or something else (moms, ladies, most of you know what I'm referring to here). In the end we decided that it was a false alarm as I was not sure that I had lost my mucus plug and had no bloody show later, plus I was still 3 weeks from my due date. We had heard stories about couples so excited to have their baby that they misinterpreted the signs, got themselves worked up, and called the doctor/midwife way too early. We didn't want to provide another silly story for them to tell. We tried to go back to sleep, but strong waves of adrenaline rushed over me and I had light, regular contractions for an hour. That was a long hour. Eventually everything died down and I slept another hour or two.

It was a Sunday, also our wedding anniversary, so after stocking up on feminine products (to contain a drastic increase in secretions) we headed to church. I was pretty sure I'd have the baby in the next 24-36 hours.

At 1:30p I felt another little "pop" and subsequent trickling, and this time I was more confident (but still not totally sure) that my water had broken. I think around 2p contractions started coming every 7 minutes, so I called Angela, my sister-in-law/doula, to discuss it. From her I was searching for confirmation of my suspicions and "permission" to call my midwife Tracy. When I did call her, I remember talking a little louder and faster than usual and being slightly out of breath from excitement. Both ladies told me to drink, eat and take it easy. They agreed I could go for a walk.

Beaming and looking forward to each contraction, we went for a long walk during which Andrei faithfully timed the contractions. I was a little disappointed that they were so light and that the longer we walked, the less frequent they became. Not true labor, I decided. Shoot.

By the time we arrived back at the house, they had all but disappeared. Tracy called around 6:30p to check in. When I told her that they had stopped, it didn't seem to faze her and she again told me to drink, eat and try to relax, even sleep if I could. She said she'd keep checking in and that she expected me to give birth by the next morning. I was encouraged. If I remember correctly I spent the next couple of hours dinking around and preparing a bag to take to the birth center with fresh clothes, food, icons to focus on during labor, a compilation cd I made for laboring, and other little things I thought I might want.

After dinner we decided to watch a movie to get my mind off things and to begin winding down so I could get a little sleep. We didn't have many choices, but Pride and Prejudice (the new one) seemed like a good, low-key choice. So I took a seat on my trusty exercise ball, had some tea and began watching with Andrei at my side--such a trooper. My contractions were still far apart, but I was generally uncomfortable and the movie became so dang annoying: I couldn't hear the dialogue for one thing, and the music was shrill, and I just was not into it AT ALL. At that point I'm sure that any movie would've been hard to watch. Around 9p Angela called and suggested that I take a bath and then go to bed. She said to call her once the contractions came every 4-5 minutes.

I finally did lay down, and very soon after that the contractions became regular and their strength slowly increased. I stayed in bed on my left side and breathed through them, closing my eyes and trying to fully relax between them. After an hour or so of pretty light contractions, I asked him to provide counter-pressure on my lower back as they got harder--and so began his marathon. It really seemed to help, mostly as a distraction...similar to how I push on bug bites with my finger nail so that the pain overpowers the itching, helping me not to scratch at them.

Early labor is a sweet memory for me. It was the beginning of the end of being just the two of us, and I felt such a strong bond with Andrei as we started on this new path together. When I look back and see how dependent I was on him throughout the labor process, I realize that I was clinging to him not just for support through the pain but for assurance that we are in it together physically, mentally, spiritually.

By 12:20a the contractions were coming every 3-4 minutes and lasting about 90 seconds. It was getting "pretty serious" (I'm hearing Kip's voice as I type that). Still, I hesitated to call Angela because I didn't know if we really needed her to come. I didn't know what kind of support I'd need and I didn't want to make a big deal out the whole thing :) I hated to think that I'd pull her out of bed after her particularly long week without adequate reason. Obviously I had no idea what to expect. Andrei finally decided to just call since she did say to let her know when we got to this point. So he called and voiced our hesitation, and she said that she'd come and if we didn't need her she'd just lay on the couch. (Angela, you're so sweet.) Soon she arrived and Andrei sighed with relief. Turns out he was getting a bit nervous and was glad to have a someone else around to ensure that we're all ok. By 1:45a the contractions had been 3 minutes apart and lasting 90 secs for an hour, so we paged Tracy and made plans to meet her at the birth center in 20 minutes.

It was a cold night (was it snowing?) Anyway, I had a little pink nightie on and I almost walked out as is until Angela suggested I put on some pants. Before getting in the car, I had to walk out a contraction. This is when I realized the beauty of home births. No car rides while in labor. Definitely a plus. When we arrived I practically ran up the stairs to the center, trying to beat the next contraction. I barely made it. This is when the fun began.

Tracy checked my progress and I was 5 cm dilated, 100% effaced and baby was at zero station or "engaged". Pretty good, I thought.

Andrei and I labor-danced for a while. I was really hanging on him, letting him hold a lot of my weight as I rocked my hips back and forth. Tracy can vouch for his hard work because at one point she relieved him for a bathroom break. Standing felt good, but I wanted to sit in between contractions to rest and getting up and down was too distracting/painful. So I tried the rocking chair for a while. That wasn't so great. The birth tub was getting warmer by then, so I stripped and got in on my hands and knees. (Now, I wondered how I'd feel about being naked during labor/birth, but at this point I couldn't have cared less about modesty. This was the last I'd have clothes on until Taia was born and I had taken a bath.) I was in the tub for a couple hours: on hands and knees, leaning over the side, sitting with my legs floating out in front of me. To help with the pain Andrei was still providing hard counter-pressure and helping me take slow, deep breaths, either moaning and/or pursing my lips on expiration. I had great support as the labor increased in intensity. Andrei was my rock, and I wanted him next to me every moment. And I was very grateful for Angela. She was a quiet presence and knew just what to whisper in my ear exactly when I needed it. Tracy kept assuring us that all was going well, and she gently and firmly guided me through the process. Everyone was great.
There are a few particular things that stick out in my mind from this time.
-My legs were shaking uncontrollably (which is normal) and it was really bothering me because it made it hard to relax.
-I withdrew into myself and grew a bit melancholy. I didn't put on my cd nor set out my icons and candles. Nothing I brought got used.
-The thought did cross my mind that there was pain medicine for this sort of thing; but I immediately decided that even if I could have it right now, I didn't want it.
-At one point I was having so much trouble with the pain and even more so with emotional/mental endurance, I started praying in Russian: Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy...I couldn't think of any other way that I could get through it.
-I couldn't imagine doing this for a second child.

At 5:10a I had progressed a measly 2 cm for a total of 7. I couldn't believe it. Everyone was telling me that this is good and that I'm coming along. I wanted to believe them.

Soon after, I got out of the tub and lay in bed for a while. According to Angela's notes the contractions were "very painful" at 5:40a and I felt like I couldn't do it at 6:00a. An hour later I was 9cm dilated. I'm getting a little tense just remembering it--so much anticipation and frustration. I remember having my face buried in pillows for a while and when my head finally emerged, it was light outside. I was so disappointed that the night was over and I still hadn't had the baby.

I started feeling "pushy" by 7:45a. I was totally dilated, except for a pesky lip. I got up to labor dance and sit on the ball. Around 8:30a Tracy got me on the bed again to check me, and as I lay down I had indescribable pain. Something about the movement or position...Anyway, it died down once I got settled, but then there was no way I was going to get off that bed. Finally I started pushing at 9am in a semi-sidelying position. By this time I began to think that Taisia was never going to be born. Even so, I decided to still give it my best shot. I pushed with all my might. I was instructed to push like I was having the biggest bowel movement of my life and to not be afraid of the burning when she crowned. But it was totally natural to push "there", and honestly I wasn't afraid of any burning--I was more afraid she wouldn't come out if I didn't push harder. So I pushed and pushed. My cheering section told me that they saw her head coming. I was frustrated every time I had to take a break from pushing because she'd slide back up slightly. I wished I could just keep pushing constantly. Later my voice was hoarse from all the vocal pushing :) At 9:40a Andrei (with Tracy's help) caught her sweet little body as she slid out, and he put her on my tummy. Whew. I wasn't surprised to see her, wasn't crying with joy, nothing like that. For a moment, it just was a fact that it was over and here she is, praise God.

Taisia was a healthy little newborn: crying, moving, pink, and 6 lbs 4 oz. She was warm on my belly and she smelled amazing. The longer I held her, the more I grew attached to her. Our little Krasavitsa (Beauty).

The last thing to do before I could relax in bed with my family was to deliver the placenta. I pushed and Tracy provided mild traction to help it out. The next thing I knew, Tracy was holding the other end of the cord, placenta still inside me. Andrei and I simultaneously thought OH NO and expected that we'd have to go to the hospital (I should've known better, but, hey, I just had a baby). Very calmly she simply clamped the cord so Taisia wouldn't lose any blood through it, I stood up, and she told me to push just like I had been pushing Taisia. So I pushed hard, and the placenta came flying out. Luckily it landed in the bowl they'd placed on the ground to catch it, but Tracy exclaimed "my shoes!" and half the floor (I'm exaggerating) was sprayed with the splash of blood. Turns out I had a velementous placenta; basically the cord was weakly attached to the placenta and so it tore away at the slightest tug. The other thing to note is that I didn't have any tears, unless you count a few "skid marks". Excellent!

Finally I crawled back into bed to rest with our baby on my chest, husband at my side, sister and mom smiling on.

Now I could admire my baby. Her frowning lips were bright red, her body covered in sweet-smelling vernix, and her brow was furrowed just like her papa's can get. She was a beautiful newborn. She didn't have any "unique" features that distracted the eye--everything was proportional and cute. Definitely the cutest newborn I've ever seen :) After all that work, she was exhausted and was determined to sleep. She was not interested in nursing nor in getting measured and checked by our wonderful nurse, Aubre. I was content to have her just rest in my arms.

The next couple of months were magical, and I quickly forgot about the pain of labor and decided that my labor was relatively easy compared to how it could have been.

CHRIST IS RISEN!

CHRIST IS RISEN FROM THE DEAD!
TRAMPLING DOWN DEATH BY DEATH,
AND UPON THOSE IN THE TOMB BESTOWING LIFE!

ХРИСТОС ВОСКРЕСЕ ИЗ МЕРТВЫХ!
СМЕРТИЮ СМЕРТЬ ПОПРАВ,
И СУЩИМ ВО ГРОБЕХ ЖИВОТ ДАРОВАХ!

Holy and Great Friday

"Today there is hung upon the Tree, He that suspended the earth upon the waters. A crown of thorns is placed upon Him Who is the King of the Angels. With false purple is He wrapped about, He that wrappeth the Heavens with clouds. Buffetings did He receive, Who freed Adam in the Jordan. With nails was He affixed, He that is the Bridegroom of the Church. With a lance was He pierced, He that is the Son of the Virgin. We venerate Thy Passion, O Christ. Show also unto us Thy glorious Resurrection."

Order of Services in the Orthodox Church (taken from OrthodoxPhotos.com):

The services of Great Friday are dedicated to the commemoration of the sufferings on the Cross of the Saviour, His death and burial. At Matins, which is served on the evening of Great Thursday (as all services of this week are held the night before the actual day), the Reading of the Twelve Gospels takes place in the middle of the church. These readings are selections from the four Gospels which proclaim the Passion of the Saviour, beginning with His final conversation with the disciples at the Mystical Supper, and ending with His burial in the garden by Joseph of Arimathea and the setting of the military watch over His Tomb. During the readings, the faithful stand with lit candles, which are symbols both of the glory and magnificence which the Lord did not lose during the period of His suffering, and of the ardent love we should have for our Saviour.

On Great Friday the Royal Hours are served, but Liturgy is never served, since on this day the Lord offered Himself as a sacrifice.

Vespers is served at the ninth hour of the day (3 P.M.), which is the hour of the death of Jesus Christ on the Cross. In this service His removal from the Cross and His burial are commemorated.

With the chanting of the troparion, "The Noble Joseph, having taken Thy most pure body down from the Tree," the clergy take up the Burial Shroud (an icon) of Christ lying in the tomb (called "Plaschanitsa" in Russian, "epitaphion" in Greek), from the Holy Table as it were, from Golgotha, and carry it from the Altar, into the center of the church, preceded by candles and incense. It is placed on a specially prepared stand that resembles a tomb, and the priests and all those present prostrate themselves before it and kiss the wounds of the Lord depicted upon it, the pierced side and the imprint of the nails in the hands and feet.

The Burial Shroud is left in the church for three days, from Friday afternoon through Saturday and until the first moments of Sunday, in commemoration of the three day entombment of Christ.

Taisia's song

In the movie "Ostrov", the monk Fr Anatoly sings the following song from the bottom of his heart and with gusto. It is short, catchy and rhymes (in Russian). Andrei and I started singing it and it has become THE tune which calms Taisia, particularly when life is being unkind to her in the carseat. It is often in my head which is particularly fitting this Lenten season.

Lord have mercy,
Lord forgive!
Direct me, God, on my way.
My soul is so weak,
and so is my flesh.
And to sinful passions
I'm a criminal slave.

Господи помилуй,
Господи прости!
Помоги мне, Боже, на моем пути.
Я так слаб душою,
Телом так же слаб.
И страстей греховных,
Я преступны раб.

template

Ok guys, I'm having a template crisis. Do you like the look of this one or the previous one better?

Begging

Generally my encounters with panhandlers here in Denver would go something like this: I drive up to a red light and see a guy in his thirties holding a sign, big bag of stuff sitting beside him. Of course he's standing on my side of the road, and of course I pull up right beside him. I don't read his sign because I'm busy adjusting the radio, searching for some essential (like chapstick) from my bag or otherwise averting my eyes and attention. It takes every ounce of my will to NOT look at him and to NOT think about giving him a buck. I sit there quite uncomfortably until finally the light turns green and I can drive off, leaving my conscience behind.

When I lived in Russia it was a different story. For one, I walked everywhere, so when I encountered someone begging I couldn't adjust the radio or pretend I didn't see them and drive away. Besides that, I don't think I was asked for money by anyone younger than 65, and it was almost always a woman. It is my understanding that the city is strict with keeping homeless kids off the main streets, but I guess babushka's are not so easily swept under the rug. It was a no-brainer to give the elderly woman whatever I had in my pocket when she asked. Periodically, though, I would still just walk by or refuse her change, and my conscience would kill me until the next time I had a chance to give.

While over on that side of the pond, we visited Prague. Oh Prague...the beggars really beg there. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw for the first time a man prostrate on the cold cobblestone road with only the palm of his hands looking up at me. It was uncomfortable to see him so low, waiting for help. In Prague I realized that what it takes for me to give unquestioningly is for the person to be on his knees. It's sad sight, yet so inspiring for my ego.

So am I waiting for the people of Denver's street corners to fall prostrate? To publicly humiliate themselves (even more)? From my moral Mt Olympus (where I play god) one important point has escaped me: I am not responsible for his actions (how he spends the money), but I am responsible for mine. If I am asked for something and I have it, I should give it freely. If I do not give and he goes another night without food, it is my fault. If I give (no strings attached) and he chooses to spend it on getting drunk, the consequences are his.

I've also reasoned that, well, there are shelters. Why don't they go there? I don't know all the facets of this debate on panhandlers, but I think that it is not as simple as sending them to the neareast shelter. So do I think we should all give a dollar to anyone who asks? I really don't know. We all have to make that decision for ourselves--what is the best thing we can do for our society and for that person.

The following passage by Shmuley Boteach has inspired me to see that the issue is actually quite simple. It is from his book 10 Conversations You Need To Have With Your Children. Everytime I see someone on the street corner and have a mental debate to give or not to give, I think of his chapter on "Bestowing Dignity" where he gives an example of an encounter he had with a homeless man asking for money:

As we were making our way along, a black man approached me, and I noticed he had a brown paper bag in his left hand. I could see a bottle peering out from within the folds.

'Hey, man!' he said. 'Got some change?' I stopped walking, reached into my pocket for a dollar, and gave it to him. As I put it into his hand, I said, 'Listen, please use it for something good.' And he said, 'Oh, I will! I will!' And I said, 'No, seriously--you're way too smart to blow it on booze, you're way too smart to throw your life away. Try to get back on your feet. You know this isn't who you want to be. I can see that you have a gentle heart.' And he said, 'Thank you, man! Thank you! God bless you!' And I said, 'God bless you too.' Then I rejoined my family and we were on our way.

As soon as we were out of earshot, my daughter said to me, 'Why did you give him a dollar when you know he's going to spend it on liquor? You are corrupting him. You know your words aren't going to help him at all.'
And I replied, 'I didn't give him a dollar to buy him food or to buy him booze or anything like that. I gave him a dollar because when a man is reduced to asking, he has lost his dignity. None of us, God forbid, should be reduced to asking. There's a Jewish prayer, 'Please help us that we never have to ask anyone for our daily bread.' I gave that man a dollar to show him that I wouldn't walk by him as if he didn't exist, which would have robbed him of his last shred of dignity. I wanted him to know that he wasn't invisible, and I wanted to acknowledge him as a fellow human being. By giving him a dollar, I bought myself the chance to confer dignity on him. And when people feel dignified, they sometimes shape up their lives--they feel as if they have betrayed their own dignity.

'He's probably buying a drink right now,' my daughter said.

'It's possible,' I said. 'And I can't control that. But I did the best I could. I asked him from the bottom of my heart not to waste the money on drink; to stop squandering his life. in taking the time to tell him he had value as a man, I was trying to inspire him to change. I spent less than a minute talking to that man, but who knows? That brieftalk might be the catalyst that prompts him to try to get back on his feet.'

Man cannot live without dignity, nor should he live without making every effort to confer it on others.

I tell my children: 'Every human being has value, and every human encounter is a fresh chance to let him know it.'

To me it couldn't be simpler or more right. Now I can't say that I'm going to give a little speech every time I hand over a dollar, but I will smile genuinely, ask God to bless him, and perhaps ask the guy to spend it well. Hopefully God will be pleased to bless others through this simple act.

recipes please

Hi everyone! I need some vegetarian recipes (preferably vegan: no cheese, milk, eggs) for meals and/or desserts. I have some good cookbooks, but it's hard to go through them and try to decide what might be good. We like just about anything.

I'll get things rolling and post a couple:

Borscht

5.5 cups vegetable stock or water
2 Tbsp sugar, divided
2 cups thinly sliced or shredded green cabbage
3/4 cup diced carrots
1/2 cup chopped celery
1 cup chopped onion
2.5 cups diced, peeled raw beets
1.5 cups diced, peeled raw potatoes
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 cups tomato puree
2.5 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1 Tbsp chopped fresh parsley
1 tsp chopped fresh dill
1.5 tsp salt
pepper to taste

Bring 1/2 cup stock or water and 1 Tbsp sugar to a boil over high heat in a large soup pot. Add the cabbage, carrots, onion, and celery. Cover and cook over high heat, stirring frequently, until the vegetables are crisp-tender. Uncover and cook until the liquid boils out and the vegetablesbegin to brown and stick a bit, stirring almost constantly. Add the beets, potatoes, and garlic and cook and stir for about 30 seconds. Add the remainder of the stock and the rest of the ingredients. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, partly cover, and simmer 45 minutes to 1 hour or until the vegetables are tender.
Serves 4-6.


Carrot Cake

2.5 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
2.5 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp ginger
2/3 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
1 cup warm water
2/3 cup vegetable oil
2 tsp vanilla
2 cups grated carrots

variations to add: 1/2 cup raisins or 1 cup flaked, sweetened coconut

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour a 13x19 pan. To further ease removing the cake from the pan, line the bottom of the pan with parchment paper.

Combine the flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger in a medium bowl. Set aside. In a large bowl, combine the sugars, water, vegetable oil, and vanilla. Stir in the carrots. Add the dry ingredients and mix until well blended. Pour the batter out evenly in the pan. Cover with aluminum foil. Bake for 30 minutes. Remove the foil and continue to bake for an additional 15 to 20 minutes. Cool for about 10 minutes, then turn out carefully onto a rack and cool completely. If desired, frost. (I haven't tried the frosting yet.)

Citrus Frosting
8 Tbsp margarine
2 cups confectioner's sugar
1 to 2 Tbsp lemon or orange juice

Cream the margarine. Sift the confectioner's sugar and gradually beat into the margarine. Add enough lemon or orange juice to give the frosting good spreading consistency.

I got these recipes from the cookbook "When You Fast...Recipes for Lenten Seasons" by Catherine Mandell.

be informed

This video was posted today on Google and was so popular on Digg that we couldn't view it right away because so many people were watching it at once. This evening as soon as we finished watching it, we went back to Digg to rate it and couldn't find it. It had already been pulled off Google Video and therefore is also unavailable on Digg. This is weird because these sites like popular videos because they bring a lot of traffic.We'll see if it stays on LiveLeak.com.

as we fast

O Lord and Master of my life!
Take from me the spirit of sloth, faint-heartedness,
lust of power, and idle talk. (prostration)
But give rather the spirit of chastity, humility, patience,
and love to Thy servant. (prostration)
Yea, O Lord and King!
Grant me to see my own errors and not to judge my brother;
For Thou art blessed unto ages of ages. Amen. (prostration)

O God, cleanse me a sinner. (x12 with prostrations)

--prayer of St. Ephrem the Syrian

Ancient Faith Radio
thanks for the link, Xenia!

Humility, part 2

I just want to revisit my post on humility because I found a couple more quotes relevent to the post.

“Those who seek humility should bear in mind the three following things: that they are the worst of sinners, that they are the most despicable of all creatures since their state is an unnatural one, and that they are even more pitiable than the demons, since they are slaves to the demons. You will also profit if you say this to yourself: how do I know what or how many other people's sins are, or whether they are greater than or equal to my own? In our ignorance you and I, my soul, are worse than all men; we are dust and ashes under their feet. How can I not regard myself as more despicable than all other creatures, for they act in accordance with the nature they have been given, while I, owing to my innumerable sins, am in a state contrary to nature.”
-- St. Gregory of Sinai, Philokalia, Vol. IV.

"Humility is above everything else the victory of truth in us, the elimination of all lies in which we usually live. Humility alone is capable of truth, of seeing and acepting things as they are and therefore of seeing God's majesty and goodness and love in everything. This is why we are told that God gives grace to the humble and resists the proud."
--Fr. Alexander Schmemann

This quote really put to words some original thoughts I had about the previous quote. The deep, pure humility of St Gregory is not destructive nor depressing. It is just the recognition of reality. As Fr Alexander says, recognizing the truth about ourselves and where we stand before God then allows us to fully feel the joy of God's grace and goodness and love. We then are encouraged and motivated to work toward holiness, toward existing in harmony with our true nature...which brings me to the next passage:

"but it is also our natural duty [to obey His commandments], for since we were originally created by God as 'very good' (Gen 1:31), we owe it to God to be such. Although sin entered us through our negligence and introduced into us what is contrary to nature, we have been reclaimed through God's great mercy, and renewed by the passion of Him who is dispassionate. We have been 'bought with a price' (1 Cor. 6:20), namely by the blood of Christ, and liberated from the ancient ancestral sin. If, then, we become righteous, this is nothing great; but to fall from righteousness is pitiavle and deserves condemnation."
--Philokalia (Vol.2, pg 14)

Our present state is not hopeless. Everytime I repent and renew myself with the Eucharist, I am freed and can continue my work toward holiness. I believe along with the Fathers that we can achieve holiness in this life. It's said that it is no great thing to become righteous because that is our true nature; it's how we're supposed to be in the first place. Many may disagree with me here, but I ask where is the power of Christ's blood and why would he tell us to be holy if it weren't possible? This is why the saints are so precious: Christ showed and told us how to live as recorded in the Scriptures, and He has also given us His saints who continue to show us the way with their own lives as examples.

But the journey to holiness must begin with absolute humility before God and our fellow man.

someday

I miss the mountains. I'm thinking that one day I'd like to have a small place in or near BV ('cause that's where my beloved ones live) and live there for a while. Admittedly I am a city girl. But it's getting old not seeing any natural nature. Sure there is a big landscape of cleared land, planted trees trying to grow a little taller, and a resevoir nearby. I'm thankful that we have at least that. But it's not the same. And it's hard to get out of town for a trip. When we have free time, we just want to rest at home. BV has WiFi right? See, I can't totally leave behind the conveniences, plus my man's gotta work somehow!

I'm planning it out as I type. He'll work at his leisure, keeping his businesses running. I'll begin taking midwifery courses. Taisia will have play-dates with my favorite adopted niece/nephew (who will it be?!). We'll go on walks all the time. I'd miss my church so we'd make trips to Denver every other weekend. Maybe come down on Saturday evening, stay with Grandma Jo, go to church on Sunday, have coffee with friends and then head back up in the evening. OK. That's the plan. I haven't even told my husband yet, so keep it quiet. :) I think he'd agree with me, though.

our future

Had another wake-up call last night. It's all stuff I already pretty much knew, only I never thought about it long enough to look at the big picture. Basically because of the way our country has chosen to conduct business, we're on the way down.

We are a militant nation feeding our captialist appetite in the name of democracy. We stand alone, do not follow international laws, and you better accept it or else. We rule the world, or didn't you know? In our country, everyone is equal, but some are more equal than others. Right to privacy, a speedy and fair trial, freedom of speech and free press say goodbye. Don't worry it's for the best...for our country's mighty 1%.

Sound extreme? It's not. One terrorist act and suddenly the nation willingly gives up the above rights out of fear of the unknown. (Don't get me wrong, it was a massive, terrible tragedy to say the least.) It even gives up its power of reason and discernment. Outright lies are not noticed or just plain ignored. We support a war for which we are given no good reason, only ideas. What will we agree to if one more bomb goes off in America?

I know many people will think that I'm just getting all fired up when really things are going fine--that I need to stop watching these liberal videos. But as I said, they talk about things that anyone could figure out for themselves if they thought about it for 5 minutes. I don't want to naively think that my dreams will come true in magic America no matter what the government is up to. When a government falls, we all suffer. What will the fall of America look like? Probably economic. There goes the Dream. I don't know what I can possibly do about it at this point, but I figure I want to be an informed citizen so when an opportunity arises I'll notice it and take action.

You should watch Why We Fight or go to the website. I know there are different ways to view all this, and I certainly don't have a great political mind so let me know what you think.

Conspiracy Anyone?

So I've been super anti-9/11 conspiracy theory all these years. Just ask my husband. Why should I think such horrible thoughts? It's unimaginable. Disgusting.

Then I consented to watch 9/11 Press for Truth off the internet. It's well done and more of a documentary that makes you ask questions for yourself--it doesn't shove a theory down your throat. Then I watched Loose Change 9/11 and had some discussions.

Now I'm reeling and upset. For good reason, too. I consider myself to be pretty rational about most things and not easily duped. Well I was duped, but not by these shows. It's hard to imagine that our country is actually NOT that much different from all the other countries of the world who've experienced the corruption, deceit and plain wickedness of a government. I secretly was hoping we lived on a utopic island.

I'm not going to go into what parts of these so-called theories I do and do not believe. To me, at this time, the main point is that something dark is lurking behind the public lies and, frankly, I'm still nervous to find out what it is.

Slava Bogu!

Saint Taisia

Taisia is named after Saint Taisia of Egypt (4th century) who is celebrated October 8, the day before Taisia's birth.

Brought up by her mother in a spirit far removed from Christian piety, Venerable Taisia led a wanton and depraved life. Renowned for her beauty, she enticed many to the path of sin. Word of the harlot Taisia spread throughout all Egypt and reached the Elder Paphnuty, a strict ascetic struggler who had converted many of the lost to Salvation. Attired as a layman, Paphnuty came to Taisia and asked her to meet him someplace where neither people nor even God Himself would see them. Taisia responded that this was impossible, for God is everywhere present, and sees and knows all things. Seeing this glimmer of the fear of God in her, the elder revealed his identity to her. He showed her the full severity and vileness of her sins and told her that she would have to answer before God for the souls of those she had seduced and destroyed. St. Paphnuty's words so touched the sinner that, gathering up all of her riches acquired on the shameful path, she burned them in the town square, and went with the elder to a monastery, where she spent three years in seclusion. Turning to the East, Taisia unceasingly repeated this short prayer: "O My Creator, have mercy on me!" Before her repose, Venerable Taisia told the elder, "From the moment that I entered this cell, all my sins were constantly before me and I wept remembering them." The Elder Paphnuty answered, "Because of this, and not for the strictness of your seclusion, has the Merciful Lord shown you His mercy." (http://www.stjohndc.org/Russian/english.htm)

Infant Baptism

We are excited to baptize our lovely Taisia this month.

I've been asked to clarify what is the expected outcome of this baptism. I am no theologian, but I do my best to understand everything and I'll do my best here to explain the Orthodox perspective. I welcome comments.

Baptism is wonderfully mystical. I'm going to use a bunch of quotes to explain it (and more). But first it may help to note that the Orthodox believe that the human body is very important since Christ's incarnation-- he is fully man and fully God. We believe in a strong soul-body connection. Therefore when we profess a faith, it is very important to make deliberate actions with our bodies that equal/parallel our words and thoughts. Also, Orthodoxy is not a 'once saved, always saved' faith. Every day we either choose Christ/choose to live by the Grace we received at the baptism, or not. But baptism is the important beginning. It gives us a clean start and allows us to receive the gifts of the Spirit in order to work toward holiness. Infants should not be excluded from baptism as they too are guilty of original sin (many do not believe this); and why keep them from spiritual rebirth until they are older when it is that much more time for God's Grace to work in them! My baby is not guaranteed a free pass to Heaven by this baptism; but by it she is welcomed into the folds of the Church, is given a new life free of original sin, and is enabled to partake worthily in the Divine Mysteries (sacraments) through which the Spirit's Divine Grace or Energy flows into her.

There are a few important verses:
"Verily, verily I say unto thee, except a man be born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of God.That which is born of flesh is flesh, and that which is born of spirit is spirit" (John3:3-6).
"Repent, and be baptised every one of youin the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit"(Acts 2:37-38).
From these verses I get the idea that baptism is very important to our salvation.

"We are buried with Him by Baptism into death, that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life" (Rom. 6:4).
The following is from the book 'Orthodox Dogmatic Theology':
"Holy Baptism by the Holy Spirit, again unites him with the Divine Nature as it was when he was created by the hands of God, restores all the powers of his soul, renews them and brings them to the condition in which they were before the transgression of first-created Adam; in this way it leads him into the Kindgom of God, into which no one unbaptized can enter, and enlightens him with its light and grants him to taste its joys. Thus each one who is baptized becomes again such as Adam was before the transgression, and is led into the noetic Paradise and receives the commandment to work it and keep it--to work it by fulfillment of the commandments of Jesus Christ Who has recreated him, and to keep it by the keeping of the Grace[Divine Energy] of the Holy Spirit which was given to him through Holy Baptism, confessing that the power of this Grace which dwells in him fulfills together with him the commandments of Christ."
Also this:
"Baptism is not only a symbol of cleansing and washing away the defilement of the soul, but in itself is the beginning and source of the Divine gifts which cleanse and annihilate all the sinful defilements and communicate a new life. All sins are forgiven, both original sin and personal sins; the way is opened for a new life; opened is the possibility to receive the gifts of God. Further spiritual growth depends upon the free will of man. But since temptation is capable of finding sympathy in the nature of man, who from the day of his first fall into sin has had an inclination to sin, therefore spiritual perfection cannot be accomplished without battle."

If you're interested here is a nice article discussing baptism into the Orthodox Church.It also describes what will be done at the baptism.
Infant Baptism.

the Crucifix

I recently realized that I have an aversion to the crucifix. That bothers me.

I need a new cross to wear around my neck. I really liked my previous one, it was a plain and simple three-bar Orthodox cross. It seems to have been the only one of its kind, though, as I cannot find one without the crucifix. I don't want one with the crucifix. This is how I have come to realize my enduring aversion to Christ depicted on the cross.

Since I can remember Catholicism, with which I associated the crucifix, has been portrayed to me as wrong and icons as tools of trickery and idolatry. I accepted this without ever looking into either.

For a long time I also had this general line of thought: Christ died on the cross. But then He conquered death, arose and ascended into Heaven. He died so I wouldn't have to. Death (and the ultimate sacrifice) is behind us, and now I must focus on my personal relationship with God and rest in His loving, protective arms.

I still agree with this, but I find that I added some feelings and attitudes between the lines which I am now questioning. Between the lines is an even sunnier outlook on my spiritual walk. Forget the sorrow, forget the pain, forget the (real) sacrifice.

To look at a man dying a horrible death on a cross every day is just as disconcerting as taking an honest look at my soul and describing it's ugly blackness aloud, for all to hear (and oh it will happen someday...before God...before the saints and angels...before the smirking demons). Actually, isn't that what happens when I look at the crucifix? My soul is exposed and I am the guilty one watching the innocent, beautiful One suffer my fate. To read about it is one thing, to see it is quite another.

To be honest, deep down I'd rather encounter this once a year, like on Good Friday, with the buffer of sing-songs and sermons that point one big finger at everyone's sins, not just mine; makes me feel like I belong. And I like to remember that the one dying is God--He can handle it, plus He knew that He'd be alive again soon. It's an insolent thought.

What I'm saying is that my soul doesn't totally grasp the reality of my place before God and what happened at the cross. I don't think I'd handle the situation with such ease of spirit if my innocent neighbor did this for me, died in my place. I'd be devastated and not a moment would go by without the vivid remembrance of what happened. Eventually I might move from devastation to determination to live a worthy life, but I'd be a changed person forever.

The irony is that I was in love with the symbol of the cross (I say "was" because I have new thoughts and feelings about it all now). I put it after my name, I doodled a million of them in my notebook in class...But it's the cross without Christ on it that I loved. Now I wonder, what's the point? I do think that the cross in any form has been made a powerful symbol because of how God has used it. However, why prefer an empty cross to one that depicts the very reason it is important and powerful?

I naturally want to forget the extreme, painful parts of my faith, or at least remember them minimally and with a grain of salt. At the same time I want to celebrate the wondrous, salvific results. I want to have my cake and eat it too.

Well, I have to change. I need to find humility. I need to face Christ on the cross, let it move me, and learn to accept His saving grace and love for such an unworthy soul.

I'm going to buy myself an Orthodox crucifix to wear constantly. Perhaps it is God's plan for me to be particularly conscious of it so that its purpose is not lost in routine. So that I remember His sacrifice and why He had to do it. So I remember that it is by God's grace alone that I live.

Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal have mercy on us.

Mother Theresa on Forgiveness and Humility

Someone found this video and posted it in my bulletin on myspace. I want to share it with all of you. Sometime I will write about Humility myself, but at this point all I can do is try to absorb some of the wisdom and let it do its work on my soul.

Invalidating

Recently I have become more intolerant to the unsolicited advice and opinions I receive concerning the health and development of my child. However, here's what I've come to realize about this phenomena of unsolicited advise being given to a mom:

If you really think about it, it makes no sense to try to tell a mom about her child: she's got the intuition, time with the child, and, generally, the paranoia and curiosity to keep her busy reading and seeking out advise on her own.

I think the true driving force behind these comments is the need for validation. Most advise-givers are parents themselves and seeing a child just brings it all back...They want, even need, to prove that they've "still got it". They want to prove it to themselves, but they also need to prove it to me so I can validate it back to them.

Fact is that I want validation as well, that's why I get upset. I want to be acknowledged and respected as the one who knows, loves, and cares for my child best. I get defensive and ready to challenge anyone willing to question my position and abilities as a mom. I want you to validate the fact that I'm a good mom by trusting me to ask all the right questions myself, not needing your prompting.

So the cycle goes: You (my dear reader, please realize that I'm NOT talking about YOU here...am I? haha) give me unsolicited, unwavering opinions and advise about, say, my baby's sleep habits. I say that they're normal, I've looked into it (but I say it with an attitude, like how dare you even ask/say that!). You reitterate your opinion because you're afraid I don't understand the implications of what you're saying. Then I dismiss the whole conversation because I'm ready to bite your head off. We're now both a little on edge and ready to do the whole thing again next time my little one has a bad night.

Now I realize the problem on my part. I intend, starting from today, to break the cycle of invalidation. Why not validate the other person? Why deny them that simple pleasure?--it doesn't hurt me or my baby to do so. By "validate" I don't necessarily mean follow their advise. I mean thank them for being concerned and for sharing their knowledge and assure them that I will look into it. Easy cheesy. Surprising I don't already do this. Honestly it's the mature thing to do. Being prideful sure makes life more difficult and emotional.

Humility

“Those who seek humility should bear in mind the three following things: that they are the worst of sinners, that they are the most despicable of all creatures since their state is an unnatural one, and that they are even more pitiable than the demons, since they are slaves to the demons. You will also profit if you say this to yourself: how do I know what or how many other people's sins are, or whether they are greater than or equal to my own? In our ignorance you and I, my soul, are worse than all men; we are dust and ashes under their feet. How can I not regard myself as more despicable than all other creatures, for they act in accordance with the nature they have been given, while I, owing to my innumerable sins, am in a state contrary to nature.”

-- St. Gregory of Sinai, Philokalia, Vol. IV.

What do you all think of this quote? Is all this necessary to be truly humble?