Stephen is three and he believes he’s Superman. He won’t answer to anything else. He has given everyone is the house a super friend name and we are all expected to answer accordingly. My husband is Fatman because Stephen doesn’t yet articulate his "B’s" quite right. Fortunately, I don’t have to answer to "Fatmom." I am "Supermom." It’s an endearing title coming from this very sweet child but it does raise eyebrows in public and its implications could be a bit disturbing if I gave them any credence.

Every time I get pregnant, it seems God has a particular lesson in mind for me to learn. Even when I get pregnant thinking that I 've pretty much got my act together, there's always something. This time, it appears, is no exception.

I’m finding that morning sickness is an understated misnomer and that there are days I can't get vertical at all. I thought I had things so well laid out this time that we could have a baby and it would barely blip on my RADAR screen except for all the warm snuggly things after he (they are almost all "hes") arrived. I was going to continue to get up at the crack of dawn and walk five miles. I was going to keep a commitment to speak four times this weekend at a conference in Pennsylvania, six hours away. I was going to continue to co-op with my homeschooling neighbor. I was going to charge on, full speed ahead. I was going to be "Supermom." Not so. In my desperation to solve this all-day-long sickness problem, I ordered a bunch of herbs and a book by Shonda Parker on naturally healthy pregnancies. The following passage really spoke to me:

"Another cultural attitude that may need changing, if we are to fully experience pregnancy and childbirth as God intended, is the belief that pregnancy is not a special time. In fact, many today view pregnancy as a downright nuisance and inconvenience. I am certainly not advocating we return to a time of not allowing women out of their homes during pregnancy and treating pregnancy as an illness. I do firmly believe that we should look upon pregnancy as a unique opportunity to mother in a quiet, gentle way."

"Even the natural childbirth movement, which has been positive in that it has been responsible for educating and advocating a return to non-invasive birth, has promoted the idea of ‘Pregnancy does not have to change our life. We can live as usual; stop for a moment to give birth; and get right back to business.’ We, as mothers, will never again have such an opportunity to get to know and protect and nurture our children as during the time of pregnancy and the immediate postpartum period. Life must not go on as usual. We must submit to the changes of our bodies and live quieter lives. This is how we parent our pre-born and newborn children; by parenting in this manner, we serve God."

The herbs haven't helped much but this quote really gave me something to think about. A visit with my midwife yesterday gave me something else. I asked for a remedy, a way to drive six hours to Pennsylvania this weekend to speak, and she said, "Find someone to take your place. There is no one to whom you are indispensable except the baby you are carrying. If you go, it's against medical advice." I've done things against medical advice before, but this advice echoed, almost verbatim, the talking to I'd gotten in the confessional recently.

Fortunately, I am raising my children and educating them in a community of Catholic women who share a common vision of children and family life. I have friends here at home and I have an internet support group of over 800 women around the world. Though they are flung far and wide across the country (and I am often frustrated by that), I draw support from them and my children benefit tremendously from that support. I returned from my midwife appointment yesterday and made some key phone calls, seeking counsel, seeking wisdom. I found these faithful women to be full of wisdom and full of grace. And I discovered that when you have friends flung all over the world, you have a friend in Pennsylvania.