Young, naive, scared, poor, marginalized, alone . . . That’s how I was when I became a Mom . . . First to Marley Grace and only a year later to Mahala. In the absence of congratulatory remarks, people asked: Don’t you know how *that* happens? What’s your plan? A close relative even exclaimed, “Oh no!” and groaned upon hearing the news of my pregnancy.
For nine months that felt like an eternity, I carried her in the sanctuary of my womb, 6 of those months with hyperemesis gravidarum and the last three with a pinched sciatic nerve.
My ob/gyn was a terrible woman. She cared more to spend nine months persuading me to use contraception so “this” doesn’t happen again than she cared to treat my like a person, deserving of dignity. She talked a lot and listened so little. Good for her. This is breaking the glass ceiling? This is feminism? Not once did she praise the remarkable job my body was doing sheltering another body, another soul.
That’s part of the problem with the secular feminist movement today. It rejects and suppresses our femininity, seeking to take control and make us the *same* as men, rather than embracing our beautiful bodies (God’s masterpiece, ladies) and encountering us IN our incarnated form to support and empower us as life-bearers, persons with the power and authority to determine the characters and the values of the next generation.
Rather than being empowered by our unique differences, the secular feminists want us to fear and suppress what makes us women and what empowers us. Contrary the call of the saints to “Be who you are!” the secular feminist decries “Be who you are NOT.”
Use and be used. Objectify and be objectified. As if by ignoring the soul’s home in the body, women will somehow be better off. The secular feminists twist and warp your perception of what is beautiful and what is in fact feminine. They open us up to be objectified in the name of some faux equality rather than demanding we be treated with reverence in the name of our God-given dignity.
Mahala was born on All Souls’ Day, and her name, “Mahala” means “feminine strength.” Because she was born by feminine strength and because she embodies TRUE feminine strength. From conception on, she taught me that it was worth it to sacrifice my comfort temporarily for the LIFE of another human being. She taught me about the reality of the soul and the unique value of each human person.
Mahala is sweet, nurturing, competitive, smart, graceful, compassionate, diplomatic, strategic, artistic, athletic, funny, fun. I could think of hundreds more positive adjectives for Mahala. But I’ll leave you with the adjective “unplanned.”
To those that look at children or unplanned pregnancy as a burden, I know from experience that children are THE greatest wealth and unplanned pregnancy (while certainly not without its inconvenience) is the GREATEST surprise gift. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying to you.
Mahala once said, “Mom, I’m so glad you were pro life when you were pregnant with me because otherwise I probably wouldn’t have been born.” And you know what? She’s right. And I am so so soooo glad too. Mahala fills my life with joy and our family would be so empty without her. Mahala fills the world with light and the world would be so dark without her too.