This past year has been tremendously busy with ministry, family, self-care, growth, and basically raising 3 helpless humans (and finding out another is on the way). Personally, it’s been a huge lesson in learning how to listen to God’s voice and trusting that what He has planned for me is GOOD – a concurrent lesson in humility and utter surrender. I honestly didn’t think this would be such a difficult lesson for me. I’ve always considered myself as easy-going and adaptable, usually willing to bend and follow others’ leadership. I’ve always told God that if He ever just told me what to do, I would drop everything in a second and do it, no problem, no questions asked. Yeah. Right. This year has proved me wrong and discovering the stubborn, immature, untrusting parts of myself has been a tough pill to swallow.

It was through these readings that I felt God telling me He wanted Paul to finish his duties at the event and that the people there needed to hear what he would have to say. I knew that God entrusted Paul with the task of sharing the Gospel, and specifically sent him, even in the midst of a major family life moment. God assured me that in our own ways – with each word coming out of Paul’s mouth and with each contraction my body was feeling – we would be doing our parts and God would use it all to spread the Good News and further the Kingdom of God. And in prayer, I felt deep comfort. The Lord promised me that the baby and I would be OK. He promised that I would be taken care of and that I wouldn’t go through this alone. And I surrendered. I said OK, God. I believe you. I told Paul to stay at the event and fly home as soon as it was over. Everything went smoothly. I tucked Audrey and Aiden into bed and kissed them goodnight. My mom stayed home with them and my sister took me to the hospital just in time. Remy was born 2 hours later. It was a beautiful and special experience that Remy, my sister, and I shared and it brought me so much joy to watch my dear sister cut my baby’s umbilical cord. I knew from that moment that they would always have a special connection. I smiled and took a picture of my sweet newborn baby and texted it to Paul as he slept 1000 miles away, knowing the first thing he would see when he woke up would be his brand new baby daughter. All was well. Or so I thought.

Vows and commitment seem to be a thing of the past in today’s society. I’ve heard many people justify cheating by saying humans are “not meant to be monogamous creatures”. That sexual drive is a natural instinct that cannot be contained or controlled. Some couples are even delusional enough to believe that cheating on each other is “good” for their relationship or marriage. Let’s take a look at what the Bible says about infidelity and adultery:

But a man who commits adultery has no sense; whoever does so destroys himself. Proverbs 6:32

Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral. Hebrews 13:4

“Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female,’ and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’? So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” Matthew 10:4-6

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. Matthew 5:27-28

God makes it pretty clear that sexual immorality and cheating is toxic, not only to our relationships but also to our souls (This also includes sexual immorality prior to marriage – cheating on one’s future marriage). And so why has society accepted infidelity as such a “normal” experience? Why are so many marriages ending up in divorce? Why are more and more people finding it difficult and terrifying to commit to one person, in dating, and in marriage? I believe it is because the enemy (i.e. the Devil) has taken what is good, beautiful, and true – the love and covenant between a husband and wife – and twisted our minds to believe that a happy, holy, and faithful marriage is simply unattainable.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:2

While I was a teenager watching my parents divorce, I had a first-hand experience of how infidelity and broken promises can destroy a family. It also shaped my view of men, relationships, and marriage. I’ve been cheated on in my past relationships. I’ve been that insecure, insanely jealous girlfriend. I had seen enough men and women cheating on their partners to believe that it would happen to me in my future marriage.
There was a time I was working for a consulting firm in Los Angeles, and occasionally, we would go out for “company dinners” (basically a professional way of saying “drinking and partying with your coworkers and then going into work the next day, pretending we didn’t do all the stupid things that we did last night”). I saw how my boss would clearly cheat on his wife, in front of his colleagues and subordinates, and how he would brag about the fact that he had a wife at home in the suburbs and a pretty girlfriend in the city. He would encourage my coworkers, who were in relationships or marriages, to go and hook up with strangers at the bar. I would watch as he would call an escort service and have girls shuffle in and line up in our private lounge rooms, and select the ones he wanted as he moved down the line: “I’ll take you, you…not you…you…the rest of you can go.” It was disgusting.

This same boss would constantly tell me, “99.99% of men will cheat on you. It’s just a fact of life. Better to face it and accept it now, than to be surprised and hurt later.” I heard it so many times that I began to believe it. It was so hurtful and degrading to hear this message over and over again – that women are merely things to be used to satiate the uncontrollable desires of men. I was so tired of hearing his ugly mouth repeating those words. I didn’t want this to be my fate and I wanted to respect myself enough to choose a partner that would respect me the same. One day during a conversation about dating and marriage, he told me again, “99.99% of men will cheat.” I finally spoke up for myself and said, “Well, you know what? If 99.99% of men cheat, then I’m going to marry the 0.01%.”

He didn’t believe me. But I didn’t believe his statistic either. I refused to believe that almost all men are cheaters and I refused to put that standard on men. Because the reality is, I know LOTS of men (and women) who are faithful, honest, and who choose to die to themselves every day for love of their spouses and families. People are capable of resisting temptation and controlling their sexual desires. People are capable of choosing love over lust. People are capable of monogamy. We just haven’t given this message to society enough for people to actually believe it in themselves.

It is God’s will that you should be sanctified: that you should avoid sexual immorality; that each of you should learn to control your own body in a way that is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God.  1 Thessalonians 4:3-5

If you’re feeling hopeless about finding a faithful partner, maybe this can give you some encouragement. Start by looking for a partner in the right places. Sure, I believe God can work anywhere – but I probably wouldn’t recommend a club, a frat party, or the Tinder app. Just saying. Don’t bother wasting your time sorting through the boys and girls who just want to use you and reduce you to a one-night stand.

Secondly, make your intentions and values clear when you begin to datesomeone. “I’m not looking to mess around.” “Trust and honesty are important to me.” “I want to seriously date you and discern marriage with you.” You get the idea. If you don’t make your expectations clear, you will end up confused, misled, and heartbroken.

If you are in a relationship, set clear boundaries with your partner or spouse. Define what is cheating and what is not (FYI: sexting, kissing, and using pornography IS cheating). It’s important to define what is emotional cheating as well. Are you emotionally attached to someone who is not your spouse? Are you withdrawing from your partner while getting emotional fulfillment and sharing intimacy with someone else? (For more information about emotional cheating, check out this article here). It’s also important to define what makes you uncomfortable, even if it is not technically cheating. For example, early on in our marriage, my husband and I decided that we would inform each other of who we are hanging out with, especially if it includes a member of the opposite sex, and absolutely when it is a one-on-one meeting. We also decided we would not call/text/message people of the opposite sex late at night. We decided we would not watch movies or TV shows if it caused one or both of us to have lustful thoughts.

I understand that people from all walks of life still face temptation. Nobody is free from sin. Just because you’re married, a Christian, a pastor, priest, or nun doesn’t mean you aren’t attracted to other people. But it’s what you do with that attraction that determines if you have broken your covenant or not. When I feel particularly attracted to someone who is not my husband, I pray, “Lord, thank you for creating men and women the way you did. Thank you for creating this brother in Christ who is charming, attractive, talented, etc. I pray for him and whatever vocation You have called him to. And if it is Your will for him to be married, I pray for his future wife and his future marriage. May they love each other and hold their promises to one another, the way my husband and I strive to do every day. Amen.”

I know that even some of the most well-intentioned people can cheat. I understand that the divorce and infidelity rates are extremely high, even among Christians. It’s scary to take that leap of commitment and to promise to be faithful to one person until death do you part. I can’t tell you exactly why and I don’t have all the answers. My husband travels a lot for work, stays in hotels, and meets all kinds of new people every week. Even I have moments of insecurity and doubt when I’m feeling particularly weak or susceptible to spiritual attack. The enemy will use anything to lie and distract me from the truth that happy and holy marriages exist. But I can tell you that my husband and I have entrusted our marriage to the Lord and we work really hard to cultivate trust, transparency, and open communication. I see the way my husband works really hard to persevere in chastity and purity, even in marriage, by filling his mind with what is good and rejecting what is filth. I see that he surrounds himself with good friends who can keep him accountable. I see how he centers his life on Jesus – in prayer, the Sacraments, and the Church. And I can’t tell you how good it feels to be married to a man who seeks the heart of Christ and whom I can completely trust. I can live in freedom knowing that he would never do anything to jeopardize the family he loves and helped to create. I know that I married the “0.01%”. You can, too. More importantly, you and I can be a part of that “0.01%” for our spouses.

Invisible Sun by Julie Mehretu

I’ve always been an anxious girl, ever since I can remember. Some of my earliest childhood memories are of fear and uncertainty. I would say I had a mostly happy and privileged childhood, but it also included a lot of pain and suffering that I didn’t know how to address as a kid. Even in my early toddler years, I began to self-soothe with destructive behaviors.

I believe my anxiety stemmed from a need for perfection. I feared making any tiny mistake that would result in me being unloved or being a disappointment. It was a belief that I was not good enough, that I could never be good enough, and therefore, I was unworthy of love. When you’re a little kid who doesn’t know how to verbalize what’s going on in your interior world, these feelings can become internalized and end up being something you have to fight every day, possibly for the rest of your life.

As a teenager, I fell into depression without even realizing it. I had a lot of friends and I considered myself a pretty happy person. But I had not developed a good sense of self-awareness or emotional maturity to even realize how depressed I was until I tried to take my own life one day. I didn’t get psychiatric help or counseling at the time because I was a minor and the adults in my life believed I just “wanted attention” or that I needed to just “snap out of it”. Because this made me feel even more ashamed about my attempted suicide, I didn’t even tell my closest friends about what had happened.

After years of self-medicating and feeling like there was a constant dark cloud hanging over me, I took some psychology classes in college and felt determined to get some help. It was a decision I will never regret and I have no shame in saying that I see a therapist regularly, to this day, in order to address my struggles with anxiety. It’s also something I bring up in confession or ask prayers for quite often.

As a wife and mother, I’ve struggled with postpartum depression, feelings of inadequacy, and a lack of control over my thoughts and emotions. Sometimes I have irrational fears that I am traumatizing my kids, that my husband will suddenly leave me, that I was never meant to be a mother, and that I don’t deserve my family. Sometimes I get tempted to revert back to those self-destructive behaviors to cope with my feelings. It is a daily reminder that these thoughts are truly irrational, that all the evidence points against them, and that I need to pray more than ever to fight the temptation of these anxious thoughts. There are days where I make great progress. There are days where I feel like I am starting from Day 1 and it is incredibly frustrating. But with each day I decide to try again, I am filling up my toolbox with coping strategies that work for me. And instead of fear and anxiety, I hope that it is perseverance and healthy habits that I am passing onto my children when they see my willingness to work on becoming a better version of myself.

I’m sharing all of this to say 4 things:

1.  If you struggle with anxiety and/or depression, know this: you are NOT alone. Many people also deal with this, whether they are diagnosed or not. Anxiety and depression look different in every person and can manifest in a myriad of ways. Even the most seemingly happy person in your life or the person who has an incredible relationship with God can be fighting anxiety and depression. We are all on this journey together.

2.  There is no shame – ABSOLUTELY NO SHAME –  in seeking help. It is the best thing you can do for yourself. The notion that seeking therapy makes you a “crazy person” or “weak” is so far from the truth. There is no benefit in stuffing your feelings down and refusing to be vulnerable. Yes, prayer is absolutely instrumental in your healing process. Yes, the Sacrament of Confession can renew and free you from the bondage of sin and temptation. But sometimes, seeking professional help from a counselor, therapist, or psychiatrist is necessary in taking concrete, practical, and medical steps to making yourself whole again.

3.  If you have a friend that confides in you and tells you he or she is suicidal or hurting him or herself, the best way you can love that person is to tell someone. A trusted adult, your school counselor, his or her parent, just tell someone. I know it sounds counterintuitive, especially when this person is trusting you with extremely vulnerable and sensitive information and is even asking you to keep it a secret. Keeping it a secret is not having their best interest in mind. Show this person how much you care by praying for him or her and supporting them as they get help.

4.  I am praying for you. Please pray for me. Please know that you are a child of God, loved beyond measure by The Perfect Father. You are worthy of this perfect love because Jesus Christ decided you are. He decided to die on a cross for you, so that you would know how worthy you are. You have so much good to give to the world and the devil will try to pin you down and snuff out your light by distorting the truth and whispering lies into your ear when you are alone with your thoughts. Don’t let the devil win. Live your life in joy and hope and freedom, confident of your place in God’s kingdom and the legions of angels who fight for you, the Saints who pray for you, and the people in your life who love you.

This is the last art installation I saw that day at the Broad Museum: The famous Infinity Mirrored Room – The Souls of Millions of Light Years Away by Yayoi Kusama. As I stepped into this room alone, I was immersed into another world – a world of hope and peace and wonder. A little taste of heaven. To me, every single dazzling light represented a soul who loves you, in this world and in the next, connected through One Body of Christ. They are the ones who are right next to you cheering you on, and the Saints who are an endless number of miles away, praying for you. Don’t give up. God is with you. You are not alone.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7)

 I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. (Psalm 40:1-2)

Resources:

Catholic Therapists  –  http://www.CatholicTherapists.com

Find A Therapist – https://therapists.psychologytoday.com/rms

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline – https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

(Call 1-800-273-8255 Available 24/7)

Imagine the horror when I realized I would lose all my hair while pregnant with my son.

Halfway through the pregnancy, my scalp started to itch like crazy. I mean raking your head until it bleeds itchy. I thought I was going insane. I would smack and scratch my head so much that my daughter started to model my behavior and smack her own head (that almost made me stop, I still couldn’t help myself). The itching was followed with severe hair loss. I was pulling out chunks of hair every day, multiple times a day. It seemed as if hair covered every surface of our home. My daughter would play and run back with my hair stuck on her fingers and lips. Every time I showered, I created wild, imaginative art murals with my hair on the shower wall, and afterwards collected hair balls the size of my whole palm.

This is me at 5 months pregnant. Believe it or not, I was losing hair at this point already but not enough for anybody else to notice.

This is me at 6 months pregnant. You can see how much my hair had thinned out on top in just a month.

My OB doctor referred me to a dermatologist. I spent over $600 on blood tests trying to figure out what was happening to me and I was actually disappointed when all of my results came back healthy and normal. I wanted something to be wrong with me, just so I could have an answer, and therefore, a cure. Every week, my hair thinned drastically. My hairline was receding and the part in my hair was splitting wide like the Red Sea. I bought all kinds of expensive steroid treatments, wigs, special shampoos, and hair products, praying that my hair would stop falling out.

7 months pregnant

It was then that I realized how much value I had placed on my looks, and especially on my hair. It’s funny how a woman’s hair can become her security blanket, relying on it to feel any sort of confidence in public. As long as I had my hair, I felt ready to face the world. When that was taken away, I didn’t know how to love myself. I spent a lot of nights crying. Every time I walked past a mirror, I felt ugly and ashamed. Every night, I would look at myself and think “You’re disgusting. You look hideous. How can anyone love you when you look like that?” It took a long time before I realized that it had been the devil whispering that in my ear every night.

I was depressed and miserable, and really angry with God. Why was this happening to me? I didn’t want to talk to Him or have a relationship with Him until my hair came back. My husband encouraged me to use my hair loss as a prayer and said, “You’re going through this so you can pray and intercede for people. Who do you want to pray for?” But I didn’t want to pray for anyone. I only wanted to pray for myself. It got to a point where I had such little hair, I looked like Gollum from Lord of the Rings (that’s the second time I’ve compared myself to that character, by the way) and I mustered up the courage to shave my head. I cried and laughed in the bathtub while my husband went at it with the clippers. I felt scared, liberated, horrified, and relieved all at once. I had a flurry of emotions that night and I think I finally understood Britney’s meltdown in 2007.

I realize there are women who suffer much greater trials during pregnancy and that people have far worse reasons for losing their hair. I always knew that looks aren’t everything and that beauty goes beyond the physical. But I didn’t truly believe it for myself until I was forced to find the beauty in my balding head. Talk about a lesson in humility. It was the cause of many spiritual attacks and it was a daily fight to keep from hating myself. As I struggled to keep my appearance from dictating my worth as a person, God used the people in my life to show me that I am still beautiful. My husband would rub my head and kiss me even though I didn’t want him to look at me. My daughter didn’t see me any differently; I was still her mommy who loved and provided for her. My friends reassured me that I could pull off this new look, and my family reminded me of how brave I was to sacrifice my hair for my son. Through these people, I realized that I am loved beyond measure. They helped me to see that I am wanted most of all by Jesus. That He delights in me and who I am, despite how I look and my imperfections.

I had to ask myself, “What is beauty?” We see plenty of beautiful people everyday in public, on the television, magazines, and computer. But when you strip away the big hair, the makeup, the toned bodies, and pretty clothes, you realize those are not the things that make one beautiful. It may be harder to recognize but there is beauty in each of us. I realized that beauty is joy. It’s about not taking yourself too seriously and finding humor in your life everyday. It’s about believing that you are good and that you are loved. Beauty is kindness and sacrifice. It’s about the way you treat people and make them feel important and cared for. It’s about the big and little sacrifices you make that may or may not go unnoticed. Beauty is confidence. It’s about knowing and believing you make a difference. It’s about being kind to yourself, and being YOU in all of your uniqueness, knowing that there is no one else in the world like you. Beauty is understanding your gifts and talents, and using them to become the best possible version of yourself while lifting up others to do the same.

During the last few weeks of my pregnancy, my hair started growing back slowly but surely. Now my son has entered the world (with a full head of hair, ironically) and the second he was placed into my arms, I knew it was all worth it. I still stare longingly at women with long, luscious hair (I apologize if I’ve done that to you recently) and I get a little sad when I look at pictures of myself with my old hair. I never thought I’d have such a drastic look when it comes to my appearance, but I’m learning to like it with every passing day (no tangles and 5 minute showers are game changers). Most of all, I’m learning to love myself and see myself the way God sees me: full of dignity and beauty, worthy of his love in all of my imperfections, which are made perfect through Him. The pursuit of loving oneself is a daily journey and I pray that you will read this and know that whether you are a woman or man, young or old, with hair or no hair, you are beautiful. You are worthy. You are loved. And Aiden, my dear son, if one day you are reading this, know that you owe me big time. But for now, here’s a picture of us with matching haircuts.

Because we’re not doing anybody any favors by being hush-hush about this thing that is shoved into our faces every single day. Parents, pastors, youth ministers, and anyone else who has young ones looking to you for guidance and answers, this is especially important for you to know. Kids need to talk about sex.

When was the first time I asked about sex? I was 4 years old. My older sister had come home from school, bragging that she knew what sex was, but she wouldn’t tell me! I had to know. So when my dad came home from work later that night, I asked him, “Daddy, what is sex?” …Now, it’s probably important to note that in the Korean culture, it’s taboo to talk about sex. And talking about sex with your kids (especially for my parents’ generation) is absolutely unheard of. But I think this is pretty common across many different cultures. Even in America, where sex is plastered on practically every billboard, commercial, movie, and music video, parents will just pretend like it doesn’t exist. So when my dad looked back at me in horror, I asked, “Isn’t it when two people get naked and start French kissing?” Totally innocent question, right? Well, maybe not totally innocent. I had peeked through my fingers enough times when my mom would say, “Cover your eyes!” during certain movie scenes. (C’mon, I know I’m not the only one.)

Now, parents, if you’re ever in this situation, your next answer could greatly impact your impressionable child. This could set the path for their view on sexuality way into their adulthood. This is your opportunity to give age-appropriate, truthful answers that tell your children how God designed sex and that they are made for true, authentic love. Feeling the pressure, yet? I wish I can say that my father responded in this way, but instead, I was met with rage and fire. I got a spanking that night (so did my sister, because she obviously had such a bad influence on me. Michelle, it’s all your fault!) and I vowed to never speak, hear, or even think about sex ever again.

For the next few years, I continued living my innocent life, running away from any sexual image or thought, trying my best to shut it out in fear of another spanking. I still didn’t know what it was. I just knew it was powerful and somehow involved naked bodies. But what happens when you repress your feelings and pretend they don’t exist? Anybody have passive-aggressive family members? Know someone with alcohol or drug problems? Anger and violence issues? If you repress your feelings long enough, you’re going to snap. Those feelings will find a way to get out, and most likely, it will be in the most unhealthy of ways.

When I was in 3rd grade, we finally got a computer with Internet in our house. It was glorious. We would use our landline to dial-up to the Internet, gleefully listening to those screeching, robotic sounds that assured we would soon have the world at our fingertips. The first couple months were a joyful blur of computer games like Snake and Oregon Trail, but it didn’t take very long for me, as a child, to access chat rooms with perverted strangers, erotica websites, and pornography. I went from repressing my sexual thoughts and feelings to being exposed to sex in the most carnal and grotesque of ways. I felt horrified, but curious. I wanted to turn away, but I was infatuated. I was like Smeagol from the Lord of the Rings. I was hooked.

I knew it was wrong. My dad had made that abundantly clear. But this was a time before parental supervision and Internet search histories. I dove deep into a secret addiction to pornography and masturbation that lasted for about 12 years. And what did pornography teach me? It taught me that sex was the only way to feel loved and valued. It taught me that I had to perform sexual favors for my boyfriends to keep them happy. It taught me that I had to have sex with a guy on the first date to thank him for dinner. It taught me to hate myself. It taught me that I was never worthy of true love.

With all these sexual, lustful thoughts clouding my mind 24/7, I went into middle school never being told anything else other than what I was being taught by pornography. I never received any other messages from my parents, my pastors, my youth ministers, or my teachers. Simply because it was never talked about. Those conversations were avoided like the plague. Then came 8th grade, where everybody got to take a Sex Ed class and openly talk about sex. We all shuffled into the room, pretending like we were too cool to care about the class, then trying to stifle our giggles at words like penis and vagina. And this class proceeded to show us image after image of every STD you can imagine, as we groaned and gagged at the warts, blisters, and oozing pus. Then we had a lesson about what happens when girls get pregnant, which was basically a traumatizing and bloody video of a woman giving birth to a purple, alien-like baby.

This was the message of our “comprehensive” sexual education: DON’T get STDs and definitely DON’T get pregnant. Never once did we talk about the emotional, psychological, and spiritual ramifications of sex. Never once did we talk about the benefits and beauty of sex within the context of marriage. Never once were we told that the Pill is a class one carcinogen (i.e. cancer causing agent) as reported by the World Health Organization [2005]. Never once were we taught about any alternatives, such as Natural Family Planning (i.e. Creighton method, Symptothermal method, etc.) as an effective and 100% natural means to plan pregnancy and track fertility. Never once were we told that our bodies are treasures, that our sexual desires are good, or that sex is a beautiful expression of one’s true love and commitment to one’s spouse in the most vulnerable and intimate of ways. Instead, we were told that some people choose to abstain from sex until marriage, but in reality most wouldn’t. So the class ended with the instructor tossing out free condoms in various fun colors and flavors. Some were even glow-in-the-dark. Can you believe it? She was like Oprah, giving out free candy. YOU get a condom! YOU get a condom! EVERYBODY GETS FREE CONDOMS!!!

So, imagine a young teenage girl, with a twisted sense of sexuality, now handed free neon-colored condoms (and free birth control pills from Planned Parenthood at every annual checkup). I felt invincible because I was led to believe that condoms would make me “safe” from STD’s and that the Pill would keep me from becoming a teenage mother.

It wasn’t long until I lost my virginity and went down a dark, downward spiral into a world of sexual promiscuity, drugs, and untreated depression. I didn’t care about my body, my heart, or my soul. For a large part of my adolescence, I used sex as a tool to receive what I thought was affection, attention, and love (coincidentally, I was lacking these things in other areas of my life). But I was deeply mistaken. Instead, I was receiving false promises, pain and hurt, and ultimately the message that: I was only worth what my body could offer.

It has taken many years of prayer, therapy, and communication (and it’s still an ongoing process) to reverse those messages, to heal from the spiritual and emotional traumas, and to undo those knots that choked me for so many years. Now, I’m not saying that if you don’t talk to your kids about sex, they are going to become sex addicts. I’m just sharing my story to give an example of what could happen when you a) completely avoid the topic of sex or b) just tell them, “Don’t have sex because I said so.”

Priests and pastors, talk about sex with your parish communities. Talk about it in your homilies. Discuss it (in length) in marriage prep meetings. Draw inspiration from St. John Paul II and his writings in Love and Responsibility and know that people can and will learn about sex from unmarried, celibate men. Youth leaders, invest in good, solid Theology of the Body programs and chastity speakers (i.e. Paul J. Kim, Chastity Project Speakers) to come speak at your church or event. Talk about it with your teens even if they pretend like they don’t care. Spread awareness of the addictive and damaging nature of pornography and about resources (i.e. Covenant Eyes, XXX Church) that can help people break the cycle. Married couples, don’t just have sex, talk about it, too. Open communication can open up a whole world of sexual healing and discovery. Check out this great book called Holy Sex!: A Catholic Guide to Toe-Curling, Mind-Blowing, Infallible Loving by Gregory K. Popcack.

And finally, parents, know that it all has to start in the home. If you’re not teaching your kids about sex, the world is teaching them. And the world is unfortunately filled with lies when it comes to this topic, cleverly and cunningly planted by the Enemy. When your kids ask questions, and they will have questions, take those opportunities to give loving, honest, and appropriate answers without making them feel ashamed or intimidated. Do your homework. There will also be opportunities to use their mistakes and turn them into teachable moments. Pray for wisdom, patience, and guidance. Pray for your children, their sexual purity, and their future vocation in life. But most importantly, live chastity and purity out yourselves. Your kids may not remember exactly what you teach them or the carefully thought-out answers you give, but they will remember your actions. More is caught than taught. So strive for chastity in your marriage, kick that porn addiction, be mindful of the movies you watch, the music you listen to, and the books you read (moms, put down the 50 Shades), use those parental controls on the computers and smartphones, and remain close to the Lord through prayer and the Sacraments.

And for those who have already lost their virginity and now feel like there’s no point in waiting anymore, I totally get it. I’ve been there. We all have sexual desires and sometimes, it seems easier to give in. But I’m challenging you to start over and try again, not just for your future spouse, but for yourself. Because I know you are capable of living up to the challenge. Because I know you deserve better. It wasn’t until my early 20′s when I finally met a man, named Paul, who didn’t want to use me for my body and just have sex with me. WHAT?! I was confused. There I was, expecting to give it up by our 3rd date (I made him wait long enough, right?), and he was sitting there, telling me that he was waiting for his future spouse to show her the utmost dignity and respect, to sacrifice his sexual desires for the protection of her heart and soul, and to love and honor her the way she deserves to be loved so they can finally consummate their vows of marriage on their wedding night. I was floored. And by God’s good grace, I married that man. Not only because he was charming, intelligent, handsome, and hilarious. But because I knew he would love me the way Christ loves His Bride, the Church: through sacrifice and suffering, with strength, nobility, and humility. And that’s what I deserved. That’s what every person deserves.

~ Maggie Kim

But as the weeks went on, I started to think of baby names and found myself glancing at newborn clothes. Our baby was due in February 2016, just two months after my daughter’s 1st birthday, and I imagined my daughter playing with her little sibling, growing up together close in age and being best friends. And as my husband and I prayed each night for our little growing baby, praising God for the gift of life and learning to trust Him with our family, I felt more and more excited to welcome this baby. And then came my first prenatal checkup.

One of the greatest moments of your prenatal checkups are getting to see your little peanut on the ultrasound screen and hearing that rapid heart beat. And you look forward to hearing that heart, beating strong and purposefully, at every checkup until you deliver your child. But when I sat back, anxiously anticipating that sound, I heard nothing. I willed the machine to start emitting the sound, but there was nothing. And after some tests and another ultrasound, it was confirmed: we had lost the baby.

I can’t exactly remember how I felt getting the news. A part of me felt horrified, another part of me was slightly relieved. A bigger part of me felt like I was in a dream. I didn’t know if I should tell anybody because we hadn’t announced the pregnancy, but at the same time, I wanted our baby’s presence to be known. It was a very confusing time with plenty of mixed emotions. And then, I was consumed with anger.

I was angry at God, angry at my husband, and just angry at the world. I wondered why God would take away something so special, why He wouldn’t want a child to meet his or her mother, and why He was punishing me for initially feeling reluctant about the pregnancy. I was angry at my poor husband, who basically wasn’t allowed to touch me or even breathe without me snapping at him and then running back to sob on his shoulder. I was angry at the cruel world, especially because the undercover videos of Planned Parenthood were released around this time, and I couldn’t bear to hear any more sad news. Most of all, I was angry at myself. I wanted to go back in time and just jump for joy at the news of our unexpected pregnancy. I wished I had never wasted any time worrying or feeling anxious. I felt like a horrible mother, like it was all my fault. I felt so foolish, so selfish, so unwilling to trust God. Hearing about other people’s pregnancies was especially hard. I wanted to be happy for them instead of envious. I wanted to ask questions about their pregnancies and babies without feeling sick to my stomach. I didn’t even want to sit in a hot tub, tired of the realization that I wasn’t pregnant anymore. All I could think about was my empty body and my empty heart.

My husband and I began to pray. I didn’t want to pray because I was still angry, but I honestly didn’t know what else to do. We prayed a special novena asking God for some sign to tell us whether our child was a boy or a girl. And we prayed a very specific prayer, asking for a slingshot to confirm a boy, or ballet slippers to confirm a girl. And though I had doubts in my mind, I looked to my husband who prayed with utter faith, and hoped we would get a clear answer so we could give our child some sort of identity. Then one day, as we were leaving a department store, we came upon a display of children’s clothing that I was immediately attracted to. “Ooh-ing and Ahh-ing” over a cute onesie that I pictured our daughter in, I glanced over to the little boy’s shirt next to it, and there on the shirt was a big graphic of a slingshot. And there we took it as God’ sign that we had a son in Heaven. We named him Francis Nathan Kim.

I wrestled with the idea of sharing this story because I am normally a private person. And this has been a very vulnerable and difficult time in my life that I wasn’t sure I would want posted on a public forum. But I chose to share this story, not because I want attention or pity, but because pregnancy and infant loss is an unfortunate reality that is more common than we think. Miscarriage is the most common type of pregnancy loss, according to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG). Studies reveal that anywhere from 10-25% of all clinically recognized pregnancies will end in miscarriage. That’s up to 1 in 4 women. And there are plenty of women who also experience multiple miscarriages, stillbirths, or infant loss. Most of these women and their families suffer in silence. Perhaps it is because they don’t want others to feel uncomfortable or burdened talking about dead babies, or maybe it’s just the way they choose to grieve. But for those of you who want to share your stories and feel that you can’t, I hope you are encouraged to find healing and consolation from your friends and loved ones. I hope you are able to mourn and go through this emotional process by talking to somebody you trust. And I want you to know that your children deserve to be known, no matter how short their time on Earth. You don’t have to suffer in silence anymore.

I love my son and think about him every day. I am still heart broken. I have to fight the urge to feel sad when I see a pregnant woman, and I try to pray for her and praise God for the life in her womb. I don’t know how I’m going to feel as we approach what would have been our son’s due date in the new year. Coping and healing is still an ongoing process, one that I will be on for the rest of my life until I finally get to meet my baby in Heaven. Until I can scoop him up into my arms and hug him so hard to make up for all the hugs we couldn’t have. I have to remember that all my children are ultimately God’s children, and while I am responsible for raising them here in the world, I have to place them and trust them in God’s hands.

Lastly, I want to share a moment with you that constantly reminds me that joy can come from suffering, just as redemption came from Jesus Christ’s crucifixion and death. One evening, my husband and I took a walk around our favorite lake in our neighborhood. It had been a particularly rough week, experiencing intense cramping and bleeding, and scheduling the procedure that would separate my baby from me for good. I saw a little duck swimming across the lake alone, and I was immediately overwhelmed with sadness. My heart sank at the thought of my baby being all alone, crying out and searching for his mother. I wanted to hug and console him and tell him, “There, there. Mommy is here and I will never leave you.” But then I looked up and saw this strikingly breathtaking view of the sunset that just seemed to emanate the Lord’s majesty. And as the little duck joined his group of little duck friends, I knew that my son is not alone. He was never alone when he was with me in my womb, and he will never be alone now in the company of Saints and Angels. He used to be a part of me and my body. But now he is in Heaven, happier than he could ever be, and he is still a part of me through the Body of Christ. One of our missions as mothers is to help get our children to Heaven. And I’m proud to say that my little Saint is in the arms of Jesus, exactly where he’s supposed to be, exactly where he belongs.

“So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.” Matthew 18:14