Lord, teach me to be generous.

Teach me to spend the morning with her like we've got the whole day in front of us - luxuriously unhurried, devotedly present. Teach me to linger over first cups of milk and breakfast with baby dolls. Teach me to walk out the door with a smile on my face so that she'll only remember me as happy.

Teach me to serve you as you deserve.

Teach me to recognize you in other people's children when I wish I could be cuddling my own. Teach me to meet each patient with kindness in my voice and compassion in my heart. Teach me to listen, to question, to heal.

To give and not to count the cost.

Teach me to take it one day at a time. Teach me to cherish this breath - to live today without worrying about weekend rounds or overnight calls. Teach me to measure my days in service to you, not in moments lost with her.

To fight and not to heed the wounds.

Teach me to smile when I would rather cry, laugh when I would rather protest. Teach me to leave old hurts where they belong and to face each new challenge with courage and reliance on your grace.

To toil and not to seek for rest.

Teach me to greet her with open arms at the end of the day. Teach me to leave work at work and just be her mother 100%. Teach me to smile, laugh, tickle, and snuggle to the fullest each minute until bedtime.

To labor and not to ask for reward...

Teach me to walk through this life with humility and gratitude for all you have blessed me with. Teach me to savor bath time and story time and last-minute snuggles before bed. Teach me to whisper that I love her each night so that she'll never forget that eternal truth.

...save that of knowing that I am doing your will.

Teach me to be obedient to you. Teach me to lay at the foot of the Cross my feelings and frustrations, dreams and desires. Teach me to discern your will, Lord, and to separate it from my own ideas about happiness, purpose and fulfillment.


This first week back on rotations is hard. In some ways it is easier than when I went back the first time. G was 11 weeks old then. I was pumping and stressed about my milk supply. I still had half of my third year to finish. Now she is 18 months old, no longer dependent on me for physical nourishment. There is no need to drag my black Medela bag with me everywhere or scout out places to pump every 4 hours. I have only a handful of electives and residency interviews left before graduation.

But in other ways it is harder. I had a glimpse of life at home with her this past year (even if it was only part of the time) and it is so very hard to give that up. I am mourning the loss of our slow morning routine - breakfast and playtime, walks to the market, naps in the stroller. I am thinking of all the tiny, insignificant moments with her that I'll miss; all the chances to experience the sublime and mundane realities of her toddler years.

I am trying to take it one day at a time, to focus on this rotation and this rotation only - not my Acting Internship or interview season, not intern year or inpatient services or questions of fellowships. Just today. Just these 8, 10, 12 hours until I see her again.

It will get better, my husband reminded me gently yesterday evening. It always gets better.

And that is probably true. Transitions are the hardest for me - I don't like the feeling of being caught between two realities.

But that is how we live in this life - caught between heaven and earth. Made from dust and returning to it, but knowing that our Creator calls us to something more.

G had her 18-month well child check this morning. Her current stats:

Length: 33 inches (85%tile)
Weight: 25.1 pounds (85%tile)

She is a big girl - but very proportionate!

G was in a very friendly mood and hardly fussed at all during the exam. Her physical and behavioral development is right on track. She is walking and running, talking up a storm (with a growing number of intelligible words), and is interested and engaged in the world around her. The one challenge we have is to cut back on her milk intake - she basically drinks milk ad lib throughout the day, taking in between 28-32 oz (well above the recommended 12-14 oz!) We'll be trying to substitute water during meals and snacks, saving those precious few cups of milk for wake-up and bed-time.

It's always a bit of a strange experience to take G to the pediatrician. I feel like I should know everything about the expected growth and development of a toddler, as well as have a differential ready for any concerns that are raised. If the pediatrician brings up something - a physical finding or behavioral issue - that I haven't noticed, I feel like I've missed something huge on an H&P. I have to keep reminding myself that in that office my primary role is parent, not medical student - I'm there to report how G is doing on a daily basis and to bring up concerns that might get missed during a quick visit. I don't have to have all the answers, and it's okay to ask questions or be uncertain about milestones...I'm not her doctor (nor should I be).

Anyway! G is now happily at daycare, playing with all her pals. Mom hat off, medical student hat on. I am headed to clinic, where I do need to remember those specifics of behavior and development, physiology and pharmacology (etc, etc, etc). But I'll be thinking of my girl all day...I guess the mom hat never quite comes all the way off.

Taking time to stop, breathe, and savor the present moment.

I am sitting in one of our comfy green chairs, with the windows open and the ceiling fan blowing cool air across my face. G is snoozing in her stroller on the porch (yesterday she took a 3-hour nap there...I'm hoping for a repeat performance). There is bread rising in the kitchen and whole wheat dough in the fridge to be used for grilling pizzas later tonight. The dishwasher is humming in the background (an unfamiliar sound), cleaning Ball jars to be used to pickle zucchini from the garden.

This was a wonderful weekend. My parents were in town to drop my sister off for the start of her year with the Jesuit Volunteer Corps. My mom drove in a few days early to spend some time with G and let me tie up the last loose ends from my research year. My dad and sister arrived on Friday afternoon. We spent an hour or so walking around the neighborhood. G was in her element, showing off her running and climbing skills at the playground and her bravery on the big slides. We met K for dinner and ice cream, after which he and my sister took a trip to the garden plot while my parents and I gave G a bath and looked at pictures of doggies on the Internet.

My parents took off after breakfast the next morning, giving us the day to spend with my sister. It was really wonderful to spend some intentional time with her during a regular sort of day. My sisters and I live far apart, so most of the times that we see each other are at holidays or special events. There's a different sort of connection that happens when you get the chance to step into someone's everyday life. That's one of the things I'm most excited about for the coming year - getting to share ordinary moments with my sister in a way we haven't been able to in years.


Monday is my first day back on clinical rotations. I'll be starting with two weeks of outpatient clinics, which is a nice way to ease back in. After that, there will be 7 weeks on inpatient services, which will involve longer shifts and weekend hours. But I'm not thinking about that right now. Right now I am looking forward to making pizzas on the grill, and just feeling grateful for all that I am blessed with.

Linking up with Kelly for 7 Quick Takes dedicated to the awesomeness that is JVC.


My experience in JVC was transformative. I went from working as a research fellow at the National Institutes of Health with my own studio apartment outside of DC to learning the ropes as a Case Manager in a domestic violence shelter while living with six housemates in the heart of Philadelphia. Going from culturing mouse neurons to counseling survivors of domestic violence was about as huge a transition as I had ever experienced. There was a lot of discomfort in those first few months - but also so much grace. I am so grateful for the lessons I learned through JVC - I wouldn't be the person I am today without them.




Another of the JVC values in community. JVC places volunteers in cities across the country, where they live in community with other volunteers, usually ranging from 4 to 8 per house. As if living on a tight budget isn't hard enough, JVC challenges you to do it with a group of veritable strangers, each with unique preferences and personality quirks. This is one of the hardest values to live, perhaps because there's no escaping the very real challenges of community life when living on a small income in an unfamiliar city. Living in community taught me a great deal about myself, and laid bare many of my faults and weaknesses I could keep hidden while living alone. Since our time in JVC ended, the members of my two communities have moved to many states and are pursuing many different paths - but we still share a powerful bond that few other people in our lives understand. There are still group texts and email chains that circulate between us from time to time, re-sending favorite pictures and reprising inside jokes.





The final value is social justice. I think this is the value that draws most applicants to JVC, at least initially. The people I met through JVC were passionate and idealistic, on fire to relieve suffering, resist oppression and remake the world in the image of the God who is just and merciful. Even those did not identify with the Catholic and Ignatian spirituality of JVC were committed to accompanying the poor and marginalized. JVC's commitment to social justice emerges from Catholic Social Teaching, which emphasizes the value of the human person and envisions a society that respects and fosters the dignity and worth of each individual, particularly those on the margins. If I could change anything about JVC, it would be to emphasize even more strongly this particularly Catholic approach to social justice, which is founded on doing all for the sake of Christ. As Pope Francis has said:
JVC's unofficial motto is "Ruined for Life", speaking to the idea that the experience of living simply and in community, immersed in spirituality and social justice, changes you in a way that cannot be undone. This is perhaps a little more pithy than true - JVC can surely transform you, but only to the extent that you let it. And it's a profound challenge to continue living the four values after becoming a former Jesuit Volunteer (or FJV, as we like to say) - just as it's challenging to live the Catholic faith in general. I am certainly not living as simply or intentionally as I was in JVC, but I do believe that my experiences as a JV continue to shape my goals and vision for my life. In particular, my work with survivors of domestic violence is a touchstone for me as I discern my path in medicine. I have never known more challenging or meaningful work than that which I was blessed to do in the shelter, and I hope that I will be able to recapture and build upon some of that experience in my medical career.


Finally, to my little sister, as she begins this incredible journey - I am so proud of you for taking this leap into a year of simplicity, community life, spiritual exploration and the pursuit of social justice. You are moving to a new city far from home (though by God's Providence, just around the corner from me!), to live with new people who may become some of your best friends - or whom you may find barely tolerable. You are embarking on new and challenging work that will draw upon many of your skills and experiences, while also stretching you in ways as yet unknown. You are aligning yourself with a tradition you are not fully comfortable with - and I hope that you will be open with your community members about your beliefs, because there is so much richness to be discovered by meeting each other in the borderlands between faith and doubt (which is, I think, the place we all live most of the time). And whether you call it this or not, you are opening yourself up to the grace of God, which will flow into every crevice and chasm broken open by this experience.

If you're interested, you can check out all my posts written while in JVC. Don't forget to head over to This Ain't the Lyceum to read what others have to say this week. And if you know any idealistic college students looking for a way to spend a gap year, or discern a vocation, or come face to face with poverty and grace...consider pointing them here.

In case you're interested in catching all of my ramblings... follow me on Bloglovin'.

He ran a little late picking me up, giving me plenty of time to stress over whether or not I was "formal" enough.

Baby G is asleep in her stroller on the porch after a long walk around the neighborhood this morning. 9 am is pretty early for a nap, but she woke up at 6 (a full 1.5 hours ahead of schedule) and was pretty grouchy throughout breakfast, teeth brushing and sliding (our normal morning activities), so we shot for an early nap and so far (fingers crossed) it seems to be working out.

So, taking this opportunity to scarf down some breakfast myself and link up with Kelly at This Ain't the Lyceum for some quick takes!


I dubbed this post "The Laudatio Si edition", but full confession - I have not read more than the first few paragraphs. However, I did watch this video from Bishop-elect (!) Robert Barron. And it's definitely on my list of must-reads. Soon and very soon. But in the meantime, in the spirit of Laudatio Si, we are attempting to simplify our lives - trying to move towards a more sustainable, economical and intentional mode of living. We're both feeling really energized by this challenge. It feels like the direction God is calling our family, for financial, ethical and spiritual reasons. We are trying to be better stewards of the gifts we have been given and de-clutter our lives so that there is more space to recognize the sacred in our vocation.

I tried to remind myself this week that we don't toil in this life for earthly gain...our reward is in heaven. But when I am stretched thin and can't quite pull myself back to equilibrium, that is little comfort. I tried praying St. Ignatius of Loyola's "Prayer for Generosity" (Lord, teach me to be generous...), but those words wouldn't hold me after a certain point.

Breaking points this week: Wednesday. Home with G in the morning, frantic portfolio finishing in the afternoon, dinner prep + toddler wrangling in the evening, followed by K's soccer game until dark (which equals very little soccer watching and very much toddler chasing for me). By the time we got home I was just spent. There had been hardly a moment during the day that I hadn't been watching G or working (schoolwork or housework). I blew up at K and we both went to bed angry.

Next breaking point: Saturday. Started off alright. K took G to the garden so that I could work on a manuscript. In the afternoon we had K's brother and his gf over for a mustard and pretzel making/tasting session that K and his brother had dreamed up the week before. It was fine and fun...just really long. An entire afternoon and evening of cooking in a hot kitchen, picking up and putting down G (and sharing half of my dinner with her), and talking talking talking, was more than this solidly introverted gal could handle. By the end of the night, I retreated into the nursery to put G to bed just so I could have a few moments alone. I tried to cope with the frustration in a more adaptive way - went for a short run and did some kettle bells rather than binge on sugar and blogs. But when I woke up this morning, I still felt stretched. I'd dreamed about driving down to the monastery in Ferdinand (subconscious desire to escape this vocation/just really really really need a break??) Then I foolishly drove to the drug store and bought a pregnancy test (which was of course negative). So by the time we left for Mass, I was really not in a good mood. Mass was the usual gauntlet of trying to keep G quiet/in the pew while kind of paying attention to the liturgy. She was actually pretty good today - not too much wandering, just a few quiet babbles, one diaper change mid-way through the service, drank her milk during the consecration. I felt a glimmer of hope and light during Mass, remembering (faintly) that no matter what happens in this life, a Christian should have deep joy and peace because the final battle has been won! Christ has conquered death! And God wills all things for our eternal good (not necessarily our comfort here and now). So if we can only have one child - rejoice! There is another plan. If I can never lose weight or kick my sugar habit - rejoice! Offer it up to the Lord. If I don't match where I want to (or at all), or any number of other things I regularly catastrophize in my mind - say it with me - rejoice.

But...somehow that also didn't stick. Because when we got home I was just tired and mopey and started inhaling food like I'd been fasting for days. And that's how I ended up here, typing this blog in a mid-afternoon sugar slump, empty pint of ice cream next to me (second, full pint in the freezer, to be disposed of before K and G get home), and wondering how I am going to make it through this week.

Maybe I will just type myself these little pick me up posts every day, because they really do help. Kind of in the Xanga spirit of days past - writing about stuff makes it feel less terrible.

I have it in my head that unless I am the exact same weight as when we conceived G, I am going to have a terrible horrible no good very bad pregnancy filled with macrosomia and gestational diabetes and shoulder distocia and fourth degree lacerations and postpartum weight that I will never ever ever lose. But...probably if I am a little bit heaver it will be okay. Trying to focus on fitness rather than numbers.

So anyway - let's seize the week! Offer it up to the Lord for my salvation and K and G's salvation. St. Gianna Beretta Molla, please pray for me that I may follow His will in motherhood and medicine - may I find my salvation in giving of myself to my husband and child and patients. St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle - be my shield and armor against the temptations of the devil. May I cling to the Cross and not give into the lies of the greater accuser. Mary, my mother - please intercede for me at the throne of your Son that I might be obedient and humble in living this vocation which He has chosen for me - may I accept every difficulty and face it willingly for His sake.