Let Me Introduce Myself

Hello.

My name is Catherine.  Catie, for short.  I'm 36 years old, married to the best man I've ever known and the mother of his five children.  I'm a nurse, a Catholic-school mom, a chauffeur at least seven times a week, and an avid browser on Amazon.  And, once upon a time, I had a blog.

For months and months, I've mentally prepared posts I wanted to write.  I've wanted to document major life events, chronicle the little ones that are sure to be forgotten, and keep up what was once a great past-time for me.  And then, I didn't.  I got really busy.  And that is sad and unfair because a lot of good stuff happened this year, and now nobody will ever know.

Ok, that's not true.  But it's not written and that sucks.  Especially for Eve, who is now the second of our kids (second only to Patrick, who was born before this blog existed) to not have her entire existence documented, even in utero.  But I'll get back to her.

When this blog first started, I had a lot to write.  I was 28 years old and I knew a lot.  Or I thought I did.  Rather, I had opinions and beautified memories to share and, as time has gone on, I've second-guessed those instincts.  I know less now than I did then.  I've made more mistakes.  I've learned a lot about myself.  And, though good, that set me back a bit.  My confidence has wavered.  I'm not who I was.

I took a new job in leadership last year.  I didn't want to, and I turned it down twice before I eventually said yes.  (That doesn't seem like enough to change a person, does it?  Maybe I'll look back on it and think the same thing one day.  I hope.)  At first, it was terrifying.  And then too good to be true.  And then terrifying again, too much stress and time.  But I loved it.  I felt good about myself, like I was finally figuring things out.  I was learning a lot about potential and passion and strengths and growth and I felt like a million dollars.  But I worked like crazy and I missed my kids.  And then, it seemed my world came crashing down.

I stepped down from that job.  It wasn't meant to be, I told myself.  I wanted to be with my kids.  I didn't want to stress about who was watching them or how I was missing another sick-kid pick-up.  It probably was the best opportunity I've been given (career-wise), and I turned it down.  I told myself it would be better for everyone if I passed on that job and let someone who was ready for that commitment go for it.  I wanted to be true to the self that I knew, not the one that I was just meeting.  And, so that's what I did.

And that made me cry.  I hated my job.  Hated it.  I cried some more.  All the work I had done was undone, I felt.  I was black-balled, in a sense, and kept out of things I once had a strong handle on.  And nobody cared but me, it seemed.  Maybe that's true, maybe it isn't, but I couldn't approach the job the same after that. It hurt me to my core.

I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted, but I wasn't sure.  I'm always sure about decisions, but not now.  Now is different.

And then came a reassuring whisper.  God wasn't subtle, but He was quiet.  In a silent breakroom on a sunny day in May, I found out that I was pregnant.  I wasn't supposed to be, we weren't planning on it, and we had relied on reasonable Catholic-approved methods to make sure we weren't going to be growing our family again.  Despite that, God gave us another child.  And that solidified my path.  It was a reminder of what I was really meant to be doing.  Maybe the work I had done made me feel good about myself, but maybe it wasn't about me.  Maybe it never was.  And so, I surrendered to that.

That brings me to Eve.  Eve Cahill Walden was born January 27th at 8:22 in the morning.  Her delivery was beautiful and brisk.  Her arrival was joyful and calm...anticipated for months.  Her existence was a surprise, but her being here...it's magic.  I tell her all day how much I love her, and yet, that doesn't really seem to describe how I feel.  This is what I was meant to do...to be with her.  With all of them, really.  My five children.  My dream team.  They brought me back here - back to my little, simple blog with the outdated layout, made back when we were just three.  When I was just getting started, that is where I want to be again.

This blog brings me a bit of peace, like writing letters that my children will one day read.  I miss keeping up with it.  It may be painful to pick it back up, and maybe I'll struggle with the writing, but I'll stick it out if you will.

Bless.