I am humbled by the verses in scripture the royal couple has chosen to be read during the ceremony. I’ve picked out powerful verses and listed them below. These words stand out and remind me why I married the God-fearing man who has chosen to remain in this marriage for better and for worse.
"Let love be genuine. Hate what is evil. Serve the Lord. Persevere in prayer. Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Live peaceably with all." (Romans 12:9-21)
In my heart of hearts, I believe my marriage will be forever if and only if we remain steadfast and true to these biblical standards. With all that my husband and I have endured and enjoyed, I have faith our marriage will be blessed by God as long as we choose to remain in this together.
In marriage, we must each grow into the man and woman God intended us to be. As long as we help each other spiritually, then an unending love will surely be.
Friday, April 29, 2011
The Royal Wedding
I woke up to feed the baby at 5:45 this morning and was thrilled to see live coverage of the royal wedding. It was magical and so romantic in its dignity and traditional honor. Kate Middleton did her own makeup on her wedding day. I admire her integrity in that she wanted to most closely resemble herself on her wedding as the girl Prince William fell in love with.
I was more of a traditional bride on my big day. I was not over the top nor was I too simple. I felt like a princess adorned in my hand-sown veil and satin white gown.
I went for simple elegance and remained emphatic yet poised throughout the nuptial mass service and evening reception. My hair was down with loose curls and partly pulled back. I wanted to look like myself and not terribly made up. I did have a talented makeup artist for my wedding day. She was the best in her craft. She created a naturally flawless look accentuating my facial features. She did an incredible job complementing what God gave me. I have never felt more beautiful than on my wedding day. That’s how every bride should feel on her wedding day. Whether royalty or not, every blushing bride is a princess bride.
The only two things that we did that strayed away from the conventional were the father-daughter dance and our surprise tribute to our friends and family. Again our wedding day was such a joyous occasion. We partied the night away and put on a show for our beloved in attendance. We created a moment both my husband and I will forever remember and hopefully for those who were there will also never forget.
Now please don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to compare myself to the incomparable Kate Middleton, but I wanted to share just how special simple elegance can be for a blushing bride on her big day. To you ladies who are about to be married, I believe you will look your best by looking most like your everyday beautiful selves. Basque in the honorable beauty embodied in the nuptial ceremony. Remain poised and confident throughout. After all is said and done, you will look back truly cherishing every fleeting moment when all eyes are on you and yours will be on the perfect man you're going to marry.
I was more of a traditional bride on my big day. I was not over the top nor was I too simple. I felt like a princess adorned in my hand-sown veil and satin white gown.
I went for simple elegance and remained emphatic yet poised throughout the nuptial mass service and evening reception. My hair was down with loose curls and partly pulled back. I wanted to look like myself and not terribly made up. I did have a talented makeup artist for my wedding day. She was the best in her craft. She created a naturally flawless look accentuating my facial features. She did an incredible job complementing what God gave me. I have never felt more beautiful than on my wedding day. That’s how every bride should feel on her wedding day. Whether royalty or not, every blushing bride is a princess bride.
The only two things that we did that strayed away from the conventional were the father-daughter dance and our surprise tribute to our friends and family. Again our wedding day was such a joyous occasion. We partied the night away and put on a show for our beloved in attendance. We created a moment both my husband and I will forever remember and hopefully for those who were there will also never forget.
Now please don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to compare myself to the incomparable Kate Middleton, but I wanted to share just how special simple elegance can be for a blushing bride on her big day. To you ladies who are about to be married, I believe you will look your best by looking most like your everyday beautiful selves. Basque in the honorable beauty embodied in the nuptial ceremony. Remain poised and confident throughout. After all is said and done, you will look back truly cherishing every fleeting moment when all eyes are on you and yours will be on the perfect man you're going to marry.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Peace be with you
In her Lenten devotional blog post, my dear friend reminded me of a simple and necessary effort. How sweet and simple it is that we share peace with those that we love. During mass, the congregation spreads peace to each other prior to receiving the Holy Eucharist. With a neighborly handshake, we greet our friends, families and nearby strangers warmly by expressing, “peace be with you.”
Mass is a time of prayerful meditation for me. During mass, I am most peaceful in mind and in my heart. Although I conjure up my troubles and temptations or joys and praises, my soul is uplifted knowing that His house is my peaceful sanctuary. I talk to God anytime and everyday but of course, it’s so different while kneeling in my pew.
I realize the necessity of peaceful acceptance with the hand I’ve been dealt. Peace can come in the form of accepting my current life situation. It can also come in the form of accepting a broken relationship. But I feel the most rewarding and daunting attempt could be peace in the form of forgiveness.
Sharing peace with others can be a silent effort in your heart when lifted up in prayer. Only God knows what’s truly in your heart when it comes to others. Only God will judge your true intentions and knowing this, I’m reminded of the power of prayer. I keep telling myself that prayer doesn’t change God’s perfect plan. Prayer changes me.
I’ve recently come face to face with former friends. As a result of past mistakes made between myself and another guilty party, certain people have publicly and privately turned their backs on our friendship in one way or another. It was bound to happen that these former friends and I would one day meet again. To my surprise, our anticipated reunion was completely peaceful. I didn’t get the silent treatment and thankfully it wasn’t too awkward. I somehow found it in me to genuinely smile and lovingly embrace a particular individual despite the reality we now face of no longer being “friends.”
Although I was the one who initiated communication after so many months of creative avoidance, I believe the peace I found in my heart to approach her was God working His way in and through me. God’s perfect plan was to let each of us go our separate ways despite that pride was the overriding reason. But my prayers to Him helped me change who I once was towards her. The encounter could have been dramatic and unproductive if we let prideful unrest get the best of it. But again, I dug deep within my soul to offer peace despite the past. For me, this peace was beautiful and transcendent. In this peace, I found acceptance of our current friendship status (or lack thereof). In this acceptance I found closure and contentment.
At this point I would have it no other way, and I praise God for how it all turned out in the end.
As I sit and think about friends who have come and gone and those who have withstood the test of time, to each of them I bring peace. As I would do in church, I offer each of them peace in the silent form of prayer, acceptance and forgiveness for whatever will be will be.
“Peace I give to you, my friends…my friends
And I will love you ‘til the end.”
Mass is a time of prayerful meditation for me. During mass, I am most peaceful in mind and in my heart. Although I conjure up my troubles and temptations or joys and praises, my soul is uplifted knowing that His house is my peaceful sanctuary. I talk to God anytime and everyday but of course, it’s so different while kneeling in my pew.
I realize the necessity of peaceful acceptance with the hand I’ve been dealt. Peace can come in the form of accepting my current life situation. It can also come in the form of accepting a broken relationship. But I feel the most rewarding and daunting attempt could be peace in the form of forgiveness.
Sharing peace with others can be a silent effort in your heart when lifted up in prayer. Only God knows what’s truly in your heart when it comes to others. Only God will judge your true intentions and knowing this, I’m reminded of the power of prayer. I keep telling myself that prayer doesn’t change God’s perfect plan. Prayer changes me.
I’ve recently come face to face with former friends. As a result of past mistakes made between myself and another guilty party, certain people have publicly and privately turned their backs on our friendship in one way or another. It was bound to happen that these former friends and I would one day meet again. To my surprise, our anticipated reunion was completely peaceful. I didn’t get the silent treatment and thankfully it wasn’t too awkward. I somehow found it in me to genuinely smile and lovingly embrace a particular individual despite the reality we now face of no longer being “friends.”
Although I was the one who initiated communication after so many months of creative avoidance, I believe the peace I found in my heart to approach her was God working His way in and through me. God’s perfect plan was to let each of us go our separate ways despite that pride was the overriding reason. But my prayers to Him helped me change who I once was towards her. The encounter could have been dramatic and unproductive if we let prideful unrest get the best of it. But again, I dug deep within my soul to offer peace despite the past. For me, this peace was beautiful and transcendent. In this peace, I found acceptance of our current friendship status (or lack thereof). In this acceptance I found closure and contentment.
At this point I would have it no other way, and I praise God for how it all turned out in the end.
As I sit and think about friends who have come and gone and those who have withstood the test of time, to each of them I bring peace. As I would do in church, I offer each of them peace in the silent form of prayer, acceptance and forgiveness for whatever will be will be.
“Peace I give to you, my friends…my friends
And I will love you ‘til the end.”
Saturday, April 2, 2011
I'm a mom!
I haven’t posted an entry in quite some time. Obviously, I’ve had much bigger priorities on my plate. I’m blessed to share that Isaac Neil Ignacio was born on Monday, Feb. 14th at 3pm. Isaac was born at a healthy weight of 8lbs 12 oz. He’s a big beautiful baby boy!
Scheduling a last-minute cesarean delivery definitely had its tradeoffs. It’s remarkable to realize my amazing doctor safely delivered my baby in about 15minutes. But recovery has been slow and at times quite painful. I am forever grateful to God for giving me my helpful family and friends and my ever so helpful husband. He definitely played Mr. Mom while I lay helplessly in bed for the first few weeks after bringing home baby. My husband went above and beyond in every aspect for mom and baby.
My baby boy is nearly 7 weeks old and I still pinch myself every time I look at him. Am I really a mom? Am I really his mom? Is this beautiful baby really mine? Motherhood is quite a concept to fathom. I praise God for the motherly instincts He designed to kick in on demand. I never knew I had it in me to be a mom, but I apparently was cut out for this amazing gig.
But I must admit that while it’s been heavenly bliss raising this baby, I’ve had my tumultuous spats of postpartum depression. It’s hard to admit this, but there were times I was completely miserable, angry, frustrated and helpless when it came to sustaining the life of my newborn. I am going on seven weeks of breastfeeding. The first three weeks were absolute hell. Bloody scabs, a fever coupled with an infection welcomed me to the wonderful world of breastfeeding. Not to mention, I was recovering from major surgery. The first few weeks were the biggest challenge I have ever faced physically and emotionally.
Although my husband and I were ecstatic to have this healthy baby, we got into some of the most vicious arguments. My postpartum depression involved emotionally berating my husband with hurtful words. Each time he lovingly tried to pacify my frustrations, I became enraged. In one particular instance, he attempted to calm me down with good intention. He said, “We’re in this together.” I lashed out hatefully saying, “No, I’m all by myself on this!”
That retort crushed my husband. To him, it was demeaning, hurtful and made him feel like a useless counterpart in our early stages of parenthood. Sadly, I meant to hurt him because at that intense moment I truly felt ALONE. He had no idea what it was like to nurse a child while recovering from surgery while managing heightened emotions. My self-inflicted negativity brought about jealousy and envy towards my beloved husband. I was so jealous that he didn’t have to go through the torture of child birth and breastfeeding. I was so jealous that it was only me feeling the agonizing pain after my body had been surgically mangled to bring about this new life. I was so jealous that he didn’t have to go through anything physically and that he could do nothing to take the pain away. I was a jealous beast…and although I could completely blame it on postpartum depression, there truly was more to it.
Being the strong Christian believer that he is, my husband would routinely remind me that every postpartum internal conflict I lost was another victory for the evil one. He made me realize that postpartum depression is not clinical…it’s spiritual. He believes these symptoms were a psychosomatic manifestation of a spiritual battle. He would remind me not to let the devil in…not to let the devil win.
Did I listen? Not at first. It was hard to. I was in too much pain to get out of my heart and into my head. But as humility would demand of me, I had to deny everything negative about each conflict. I didn’t want to constantly face defeat for the sake of my marriage and for the sake of my precious baby. When I felt distressed, the baby could feel my stress. I hated that. So I decided to forcefully shake off the postpartum depression symptoms as best as I could. I’m only human so naturally I would weaken here and there. But it took everything in me (along with my God-fearing husband) to realize that I wasn’t fighting myself on this…I was fighting the lesser of powers, aka, the evil one. Note to self -- it’s spiritual, not personal.
Now after nearly seven weeks of being a mom, things have truly taken a turn for the better. I’m excited to share that both baby and I have mastered breastfeeding and it’s virtually painless. Yes, there is hope for you soon-to-be-breastfeeding moms out there!
It’s amazing what patience, persistence and most importantly, prayer can miraculously do. I do still experience fleeting moments of sadness or negativity. But in these times, I’m now better equipped to face the struggle. Each time I look down at Isaac’s beautiful face, I’m reminded that it’s all totally worth it. Pardon the euphemism, but I believe the juice is definitely worth the squeeze. I love being a mom and am reassured that this most amazing gig is meant for me.
Scheduling a last-minute cesarean delivery definitely had its tradeoffs. It’s remarkable to realize my amazing doctor safely delivered my baby in about 15minutes. But recovery has been slow and at times quite painful. I am forever grateful to God for giving me my helpful family and friends and my ever so helpful husband. He definitely played Mr. Mom while I lay helplessly in bed for the first few weeks after bringing home baby. My husband went above and beyond in every aspect for mom and baby.
My baby boy is nearly 7 weeks old and I still pinch myself every time I look at him. Am I really a mom? Am I really his mom? Is this beautiful baby really mine? Motherhood is quite a concept to fathom. I praise God for the motherly instincts He designed to kick in on demand. I never knew I had it in me to be a mom, but I apparently was cut out for this amazing gig.
But I must admit that while it’s been heavenly bliss raising this baby, I’ve had my tumultuous spats of postpartum depression. It’s hard to admit this, but there were times I was completely miserable, angry, frustrated and helpless when it came to sustaining the life of my newborn. I am going on seven weeks of breastfeeding. The first three weeks were absolute hell. Bloody scabs, a fever coupled with an infection welcomed me to the wonderful world of breastfeeding. Not to mention, I was recovering from major surgery. The first few weeks were the biggest challenge I have ever faced physically and emotionally.
Although my husband and I were ecstatic to have this healthy baby, we got into some of the most vicious arguments. My postpartum depression involved emotionally berating my husband with hurtful words. Each time he lovingly tried to pacify my frustrations, I became enraged. In one particular instance, he attempted to calm me down with good intention. He said, “We’re in this together.” I lashed out hatefully saying, “No, I’m all by myself on this!”
That retort crushed my husband. To him, it was demeaning, hurtful and made him feel like a useless counterpart in our early stages of parenthood. Sadly, I meant to hurt him because at that intense moment I truly felt ALONE. He had no idea what it was like to nurse a child while recovering from surgery while managing heightened emotions. My self-inflicted negativity brought about jealousy and envy towards my beloved husband. I was so jealous that he didn’t have to go through the torture of child birth and breastfeeding. I was so jealous that it was only me feeling the agonizing pain after my body had been surgically mangled to bring about this new life. I was so jealous that he didn’t have to go through anything physically and that he could do nothing to take the pain away. I was a jealous beast…and although I could completely blame it on postpartum depression, there truly was more to it.
Being the strong Christian believer that he is, my husband would routinely remind me that every postpartum internal conflict I lost was another victory for the evil one. He made me realize that postpartum depression is not clinical…it’s spiritual. He believes these symptoms were a psychosomatic manifestation of a spiritual battle. He would remind me not to let the devil in…not to let the devil win.
Did I listen? Not at first. It was hard to. I was in too much pain to get out of my heart and into my head. But as humility would demand of me, I had to deny everything negative about each conflict. I didn’t want to constantly face defeat for the sake of my marriage and for the sake of my precious baby. When I felt distressed, the baby could feel my stress. I hated that. So I decided to forcefully shake off the postpartum depression symptoms as best as I could. I’m only human so naturally I would weaken here and there. But it took everything in me (along with my God-fearing husband) to realize that I wasn’t fighting myself on this…I was fighting the lesser of powers, aka, the evil one. Note to self -- it’s spiritual, not personal.
Now after nearly seven weeks of being a mom, things have truly taken a turn for the better. I’m excited to share that both baby and I have mastered breastfeeding and it’s virtually painless. Yes, there is hope for you soon-to-be-breastfeeding moms out there!
It’s amazing what patience, persistence and most importantly, prayer can miraculously do. I do still experience fleeting moments of sadness or negativity. But in these times, I’m now better equipped to face the struggle. Each time I look down at Isaac’s beautiful face, I’m reminded that it’s all totally worth it. Pardon the euphemism, but I believe the juice is definitely worth the squeeze. I love being a mom and am reassured that this most amazing gig is meant for me.
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