Racheli's Thoughts

BH

My Sister Geula Miriam's Birth

- By Devorah Leah, Age 12

It was the first day of Pesach. Everything was totally normal, and so was Mommy - or at least it looked like that.  

I went down to rest so that I would have the energy to stay up late for the second Seder. 

The house was quiet. Everyone was either resting or outside chilling. It almost felt like the whole world became silent just for this. Just for Geula Miriam to come into this world.  

Probably a short time after, I woke up from my rest and came upstairs. 

It was really quiet, and I found my older sister Chaya reading to my younger siblings, Avraham and Eivy, on the couch. I sat down, and Chaya said, "I didn't tell anyone yet... but Mommy might be having a baby soon... or it could also be next week..." For some reason, I wasn't so shocked, maybe because of the casual way she said it. 

Then, she gave me a list of random things they would need if Mommy was going to be having the baby.  

That's when it started becoming real. 

I was running around the house, gathering things from the list. I was on such a high, but then Chaya said, "Wait, double check with Tatty. I don't think we need it anymore."

I was so confused. Was Mommy having the baby or not?!?

Then I did something really smart, and I'm happy I did it. I said "Chaya can we switch jobs?" And that's when I sat on the couch to read to Avraham and Eivy, my heart thumping wildly.  

Tatty and Chaya were running around the house.

 "Where are all the towels?" called out Tatty. 

So she WAS having the baby... or was she?!

I smiled, thinking about the story of my birth. Mine was the first homebirth in our family. And this was going to be our new baby's birth story!

Avraham went to rest, and Eivy was playing with my Savta. So I went down to my room. When I came up, more of my siblings were there - Menucha, Moti, and Bracha Leba.  

Chaya came up and whispered, "She had the baby!" I was so shocked and happy. "Already??" 

Chaya asked me to run and tell our sister Yaffa and her new husband Mendel. who were staying next door.

And run I did!

Mendel opened the door. 

"Should I tell Yaffa first?" I wondered.  

I asked, "Where's Yaffa?" But she was in the other room, and Mendel was right there, so I just blurted out, "Mendel! She had the baby!"

He literally screamed. It was so cute. Then I heard Yaffa screaming, too.

Mendel was like, "Yaffa, hurry up! I wanna go already!!" I was so happy to see how excited he was. He's already so much part of our family, even though he married Yaffa only three months ago!

Then I ran back, and everyone was waiting upstairs.

That's when it got really exciting. We were all waiting for Mommy to be ready for us to see her.

Mendel and Yaffa came, and we were all jumping and laughing and talking. 

Bubby came upstairs and asked, "What's the surprise Chaya was talking about?" Then Tatty was like, "Mazel Tov!" Bubby's reaction was so cute, I can't even describe it! 

They opened the door, and there I saw Mommy with a glowing, happy face and a little baby cuddled up on her chest. It made me so happy, after all the stress and excitement, to see a fresh new baby!

Everyone was genuinely happy, and Mommy was acting so chill. My bucket was overflowing. Eivy and Avraham were acting so cute, and I was just fascinated by everything. 

The coolest thing was that we didn't even know the baby's gender yet- but it didn't matter. We were all too happy to care. 

Then Mommy lifted the baby, and Tatty announced, "It's a girl!!" 

Everyone cheered. Everyone was shocked, but I knew it the whole time. 

Then we all went downstairs to give Mommy some space. 

I went on the porch and davened mincha, 'cuz it just felt right. I was feeling so happy, I needed to tell Hashem and, of course, thank Him.

Then, all the boys left to Chabad for Mincha. We went back upstairs - just us girls and Tatty. We did all of the fun stuff like weighing the baby, cutting the umbilical chord, and asking the midwives all sorts of questions. I loved how it was just girls, 'cuz Mommy was being so open, and it was normal and warm. The midwives were so cute and friendly. It was such a good atmosphere. Who could believe that just a little baby girl could do that!

Then the boys came back - I went down to freshen up and get dressed for the Seder. Then I went to light the Yom Tov candles.  

When I lit candles, I thought a lot about Mommy and Baby, and I asked Hashem that they should both be happy, healthy, and calm. 

The Seder was so calm and cozy. I'm so happy that we had planned to have the second Seder at home.  

Mommy was in her room with the balcony doors open, and it felt like she was part of it. But not enough for kids to complain to her. It was so perfect.  

It was fun to go up once in a while to bring Mommy the next step of the Seder. It was fun to hold Miriam and even just to be near her. I feel like she just brings good energy wherever she goes. Like when she came down during the Seder - everyone became calmer and more relaxed. When I held her, it felt like my whole life paused, just for baby Miriam.  

I feel like the birth dropped a certain energy to the whole rest of Pesach. 

I love Geula Miriam.

I love Mommy.

I love Hashem and the Rebbe. 

This whole birth story was so perfect - and so is Geula Miriam.  

Everything made sense, and when Moshiach comes, that's how it's going to be! Perfect and making sense.  

That's why I feel like Geula is a perfect name for Geula Miriam.

I'm so excited for Moshiach, and Geula Miriam is bringing it, with her perfect and "making sense" energy. 

MOSHIACH NOW!!!!

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡

Today I went to visit the resting place of Mama Rochel.
Rochel is one of the four mothers who birthed the Jewish nation.
Rochel is our Ima, our mother.
Rochel was buried in Bais Lechem, by her loving husband Yakov.
She was buried on the side of the road, for she died in childbirth while the family was traveling.

We drove outside the border of Jerusalem, with towering cement walls topped with barbed wire, watch towers, and bullet-proof army trucks, all protecting us from enemies who dream to see us gone.
It seems like such a shameful place for Rochel to be!
No real photo-ops here.
But here is where she is.

Rochel is known as the iconic "Yiddishe Mama", waiting on the side of the road, for her children who - years later - would be dragged into the Babylonian Exile, right past her graveside.
It is told that her children were deeply comforted as they prayed there, in chains.
It is told that she cried for her children and continues to cry.
It is told that Hashem promises her that she will see her children return to their borders.

I came today to pray at her resting place, at the side of the road.
I have a strong desire to emulate her.
They call me Racheli, but truly I am Rochel.

I am an Ima to my children and students, just like Rochel is to me.
I have the ability to give selflessly as she does.
I love to be there for my children in their time of need.... and always.
I pledge to be there for them throughout exile, until Moshiach comes and beyond.

Parenting.  Educating.
The responsibility is tremendous.
My tears are endless, for my children. Raising them can be heartbreaking at times.
Hashem knows the hurt.
So does Mama Rochel.
I cry.
We cry together.
Yet,
These tears will bring reward.
יש שכר לפעולתך
Any moment now, we will all come home, deeply bonded, comfortable, and happy.
ושבו בנים לגבולם

These are Hashem's children.
Hashem chose me to be their mother.
Hashem chose me to be their educator.
I am their Ima.
Their Ima who waits on the side of the road.

I can cheer for my children.
I can have loads and loads of nachas.
I can wait patiently and pray.
On the side of the road.

I take time to unwind after a heavy day.
As my tears flow, I accept support, acknowledgement, appretiation and love from my husband.
It's a LOT that I carry!
A tremendous load.

And when my child sees my tears?
Although I don't plan on it,
If he did see - he was meant to see.
He is meant to be aware of what it takes from his Ima.
Let him see and then join the prayers for Moshiach.
So his Ima will no longer need to cry.
On the side of the road.

The tears flow freely.
Tears over exile.
Not tears of despair.
In Hashem's world there is always hope.
ויש תקוה לאכריתך
I can only imagine how full my heart will be, when these tears will turn into tears of joy.

My child may test me at times, but it's only to see if I won't budge.
He wants to see that I'm not giving up.
Rochel sacrificed resting with her husband, to be there for her children.
Children who sinned, and were banished from their land.
Yet she loves them unconditionally.

My child may need space from me.
Maybe at this time, I need to let go for a bit.
This is most humbling.
Rochel, too, humbly rests off the road, as we, her children, wander...

I am grateful and humbled.
For my children give me the right to call myself Ima.
This child's struggle gives me a chance to make my mistakes, learn my lessons... and grow.

He is my precious gem....
She is my treasure ....
I am a lucky observer of their incredible journey.
Is there anything more rewarding?
יש שכר לפעולתך

There are those who choose to not have children, to not have students.
Sure, that may seem easier.
Yet, it is the most freeing thing to know that I am empty of myself and doing JUST the will of Hashem.
That I am caring for His children.

THIS is the gift of parenting.
THIS is the gift of educating.
This is why I am so fortunate
So fortunate to be their Ima.
Their Ima who is waiting
On the side of the road.

B"H

Dear Lamplighter Students, 

I’m hoping you girls are having a light-filled summer so far.  Here in Oxnard, I haven't stopped thinking about each of you. Rabbi Dov and I were blessed by Hashem to have just welcomed a new Lamplighter to this world… our little princess Yocheved Sara.  

Tonight is Gimmel Tammuz.  It has been 28 years since our world has seen the shining face of our dear Rebbe.  We are in this terribly uncomfortable and confusing  place between Galus and Geula, between exile and redemption.  I hope that this letter I write will bring us some faith… a glimmer of light…

I wanted to share with you a bit about Yocheved’s journey into this world.  You girls played a significant role in her journey- as you'll soon hear.

It started with a typical labor, very light and easy at first.  Yaffa and I were busy packing up her clothing together for her summer leave, as I stopped every once in a while to take some deep breaths through a contraction.  Yaffa asked me a great question.  “Mommy, you always talk about the labor experience being so Moshiachdik… but when Moshiach comes, won’t labor be without any pain?  So how will you have that “high” you describe that comes after all the intense laboring?”  

When the contraction I was in the middle of faded, I let her know that as much as I love the process of labor, I will be THRILLED to see what labor in the times of Geula will look like!  Perhaps it’ll just be these pleasant sensations I’m feeling as we are chatting now, in early labor?  I’d be happy to have the intensity stay right where it is at this time!  I don’t need it to get that tough to feel Moshiachdik!  We continued folding clothing and zipping packing cubes, while I continued to notice the baby's movements.  

Everyone went to sleep for the night and right on cue, active labor began.  Each surge was more intense than the one before.  With Hashem's help, I was able to calm myself into a deep sleep between each one.  The sensations started getting intense and I started doubting what I told Yaffa.  Ummm… what’s Moshiachdik about this exactly?!  Bringing a new neshama, a new soul, into this world is HARD WORK! It can even feel frightening at times!  It is the most vulnerable place one can be!   I woke up Rabbi Dov, I was ready for support.  “Call for the midwives!”  :-)

Suddenly I got a strong desire to have Yaffa around.  I asked Rabbi Dov to wake her up and bring me that little Dance Like Miriam tambourine.  I asked her to play the music track from our performance last year… The “Yearning” song, again and again and again…

That's where you girls joined the scene.  Your sweet and beautiful voices filled my room, filled my mind, body, and my baby’s neshama. Clutching the tambourine, I listened to you girls singing trust into my heart…  With all that feminine energy, I was now certain that this baby was going to be a girl…

There I was, squeezing that tambourine, and hanging on to every word of the song.  I hung onto every nuance, every harmony, each of you represented by the different age voices I was hearing.  I focused on welcoming new life to this world with every one of you cheering me on.  

“It’s hard, to believe….”  I started sobbing… it’s SO HARD TO BELIEVE!!!  I’m experiencing that most awesome feeling of birth at its mightiest moments, and… I'm meant to believe that soon I’ll be holding a baby in my arms???  It feels IMPOSSIBLE!  “That a future so divine… can be possible…” - It’s NOT POSSIBLE, it can’t be.    “While we… are enslaved… body and mind…”  I feel pretty enslaved by my body right now.  Will it really allow this baby to come?

Yes I feel the baby kicking and squirming - yet the intensity and discomfort, it is so loud right now!  I can't imagine the glorious ending at all!

But then I hear you sing “Emunah, yearning for Geula… with our tambourines in hand…”  And my tears are streaming, I’m clutching that tambourine, and I’m trying SO HARD to believe that the happy ending is coming, that it will come without any more pain, that it will come and we will all be happy and healthy to experience it with peace…

I’m staring at the tambourine, the words “Dance like MIRIAM” staring back at me.  I’m suddenly wishing we can name her Miriam!  But no, I am committed to honoring my Savta Yocheved, "Savta Eivy" as we lovingly called her.  

Savta survived the horrors of the holocaust.  She stood up from the ashes, married my Sabba Avraham, in the hope of rebuilding life.  How did she find the courage to bring my Ima into such a dark world?  I always knew I wanted a daughter named for this strong woman in my life…

 Then it hit me - WAIT - Yocheved!!!  I can hear Yocheved’s words, “Miriam, you have taught us ALL how to dance!”  Yes - Yocheved!  Why didn’t I make that connection earlier?  The mother of Miriam, the mother of Moshe, the mother of Moshiach.

Then I thought about Sara, Rabbi Dov’s grandmother that we hoped to honor should we have a girl.  Sara!  A Princess!  The mother of ALL of us!  The one who journeyed through life not even knowing if she would ever cradle a baby in her arms… and then she birthed a nation!

I’m in warm water, I’m comfortable, I take one big deep breath and there she is - cradled in my arms.  I look into her eyes, I look at my tambourine, I look at Yaffa, my “Miriam”... and I call for the other little “Miriams” in my life to come… Menucha, Devorah Leah joined… let's get Chaya and Bracha Leba on the phone… Let's all be here for this precious moment, celebrating new life. 

Baby had such a gentle birth, she seemed to not even realize she was born, seemingly thinking she was still inside of me.  I reminded her that she was born and it was time to start life on the outside.  She needed to take her first breath - which she did so beautifully, as her skin turned a soft pink.  

I’m remembering Yocheved’s words, “I was born by the gates of Egypt… I knew freedom, and yet I am locked into the shackles of slavery…”  Born in the gates between freedom and exile.  What a place to be born!  Right in transition!  

Erev Rosh Chodesh Tammuz will forever be her birthday.  The month with both yartzeits - both Savta Yocheved and Grandma Shirley (Sara).  "Born by the gates to Egypt…"  Yocheved Sara was born at the entrance of a month that seems to be leading to Galus, with the days of mourning approaching.  But this is the month leading to the ultimate Geula!  On this day when there is no light from the moon shining, yet a brand new light is about to be born… days before Gimmel Tammuz, 12-13 Tammuz - let's not forget the ultimate Geula, the whole POINT of all of this!

I keep thinking about Yocheved, gaining comfort from her little daughter Miriam.  Humbly learning from her courage, faith, and clear vision of the bright future….  

Looking into my baby's eyes, I knew she could benefit from seeing the beautiful light we can create in this world.  Hey, it's not fun being torn away from Hashem's radiant light and comfort to come down here.  So Yaffa and I sang Modeh Ani with her and washed her cute little hands neggel vasser.  It was my first time having a baby right in the morning.

And then…

"The house was filled with light." 

Welcome Yocheved Sara… Named for two powerful women in our family, for two powerful women in our history.  

Girls, as we enter the month that seems to transition to Galus - please help us transition to Geula.  Over the summer, let's find opportunities to strengthen our belief, our trust in better times.  Let's inspire others to do the same.  Let's visualize our Rebbe, our generation's Moshe, leading us out of Galus. 

Let us not forget to take that first breath! We are in transition, we are right at the gate - let us enter our glorious future with happy and open hearts, proud of the Emunah and Bitachon, the faith and trust, that we held onto all along.   

Yocheved and I are ready to dance with you all. 

Bring your tambourines!

You girls mean the world to me.  I admire you all so much.  

With love,

Morah Racheli

Nesting

During my ninth month of pregnancy, all I craved was a modest to-do-list, a de-cluttered house, systems in order and a daily swim.  With COVID 19, all of my children at home all day, unknown schedules and future, uncertain summer plans, circumstances shifting daily, lingering fears about the spreading infection, and my local pool closed due to the pandemic - I realized this ninth month would be different than all others.  

Well, every baby - their own journey, I told myself.  Hashem knows the perfect setting for this baby to enter our world.  All I can do is wait and see how His plan unfolds. (Don’t be too impressed with my thought-process, I came to this conclusion only after several inconsolable melt-downs).  

True, I can’t swim - but I can take gentle walks on the beach near my home. Yet I somehow got misaligned, causing my lower back muscles to put pressure on my sciatic nerve, leaving me unable to walk for a week.  Further self-talk, lots of it, helped me realize how the week of my being unavailable helped all of us get into a rhythm of keeping to a schedule without Mommy’s active involvement.  Hashem certainly has a plan for this baby.

I healed, thank G-d, and had some time with more activity. We enjoyed a family hike to a nearby waterfall and created some really special memories.

Despite my desire to let go of all work-related tasks, there was one item I couldn’t let go of: our 12th graders, our beautiful three graduates - our first graduating class at Lamplighters Jewish Academy!  They’ve been with us since we opened our doors.  I felt a strong pull to help them create some plan for the most meaningful closure possible, despite quarantine and virtual schooling.  If I had any doubts on this being something I had to busy myself with - I had some clear messages directing me back to my students.  A letter I learned from the Rebbe, addressed to “Ms. Rochel” stated:  “I am pleased to hear about the graduation of your students.  It is important that you keep in close touch with them, especially since there will be many weeks of vacation now…”  (free translation).  I continued to converse with my students both individually and collectively, hear their thoughts and hopes for their culmination, and had several Zoom meetings with them to figure it all out.  I knew each of them was going to be off on her own journey in life now.  Letting go of them was something I couldn’t wrap my brain around!  I’ve been so part of their journey… each her very own journey...

We hired a professional to help us produce a documentary-style film for our grads, to be released on their Graduation Day.  On my way back from a COVID-style interview with the masked-videographer, I asked Dov, “Can I be done now…?  I think I did my part for the time being, my students will run with the rest…”  I knew that baby was waiting for me to get this final piece in place.  The final touches on my nesting. 

The Journey Begins

The next morning, Thursday, I woke up at 6:20 am wondering if today was the day.  No real signs of labor...  but that suspicion…..  Every baby, their own journey...  

At 6:22 am, a text came in from my mother.  “Any news?  I had a dream that I am babysitting a baby,” she wrote.  If my mother was dreaming at the same time as my suspicions began - I knew that I need to wonder no more.  Last time my mother had this dream was when we first found out that I was expecting, close to nine months ago.

With no solid evidence that labor had begun, I went about my day, trying to conserve energy. At 7:30 pm we had a Zoom memorial planned for our dear Judie Goodman, of blessed memory, a family friend and community member at Chabad of Oxnard.  I was starting to feel some discomfort.  I put on a sweater, and went up to our roof to join the call while watching the sun set.  I felt honored to be able to participate in this event, especially considering that I knew I was about to enter a different phase.  “Auntie Judie”, as we called her, was our long-standing Oxnard babysitter and adopted aunt, and I know she was happy to have me be a part of her memorial.  

As the sun set and the stars came out, it was time for Dov and me to wish the children good night and prepare for the journey of greeting our new baby.  It was 10:00 pm.  

 The Journey Continues

This was all familiar.  What was not familiar was the intense fears that began circulating in my mind and heart.  All kinds of very scary thoughts, the visualization of every worst-possible scenario, the terrible fear of having to land in a hospital.  In the past, as much as I hoped for a natural home birth, I have always kept my mind and heart open to a hospital transfer if necessary.  Yet now, with the COVID epidemic, the hospital seems like the most frightening place on earth!  No! No!  Anything but the hospital!  My mind continued to race.  

I wasn’t prepared for this much fear.  I am not someone who struggles with fear in this way.  I decided to swiftly shift my mood.  Instead of listening to calming relaxation audios, as I have always done, I would watch humorous videos.  We dug up some of our favorites from family WhatsApp chats and the like.  I kept myself distracted by laughing, something I’ve never done during labor.  

By midnight, I experienced another new aspect to this journey.  Back Labor.  I have heard of the concept before but never experienced it.  There was shooting pain to my lower back.  Excruciating pain.  It was time to add a layer of support with the presence of my midwife. 

My midwife encouraged me to notice and acknowledge the pain and remember that this baby has its own journey.  

The fears returned - what if the pain gets worse with each contraction?  What if it becomes so unbearable that I pass out?  How often have I shared with my older daughters that labor doesn’t have to mean pain?  For me, labor was very intense and hard work, but not painful.  This shooting pain didn’t seem to fit in at all with my story.

I began to cry.  My midwife told me that it’s okay to cry.  It’s part of the process.  It’s good.  “Why is it good?”  I asked.  “The release of emotion is part of the perfect design, part of how you release and open up to make room for a baby to come...”

With this new perspective and permission to feel my feelings, I let the tears run freely and felt myself relax, I felt more open to continuing the journey.  I felt myself giving in to the vulnerability.  

I experienced no more pressure on my back from that point.  I was relieved.  I could now work through this process in a more familiar way.  It’s amazing how much effort it takes to truly relax through the journey, as opposed to tensing up and panicking. All my efforts now went to staying calm and relaxed.  

My midwife and I have spoken a lot over the years about the importance of my staying in tune with my baby, from conception through birth and throughout my child’s life.  She has trained me to pay attention, talk to the baby, comfort the baby as often as possible.  She taught me the importance of letting my baby know that I’m okay, even after a tough or weepy day.  She taught me the importance of modeling for my teens how I care for myself during a challenging time.  During labor, talking to my baby in this way was the best way for me to remain grounded.  

At one point I caught a glimpse of that cute baby hat waiting, the tiny diaper - it felt very hard to believe that the end result would be an actual baby in my arms.  How theoretical was that happy climax!  Yet I knew that I must believe it as very real, otherwise I’d lose hope during these toughest moments. 

At about 3:00 am, I told my midwife that I think I’m ready.  Or am I?  Every baby, their own journey.  

Lights off, candles lit, cold washcloth on my face - everything was different now.  

Time to move forward.  

The Journey’s Climax

It’s 3:30 am.  The fear is back.  I’m not ready!!!  

I remind myself that this is not about me.

Hashem is taking care of me, 

and my job is to take care of baby.  

What does the baby want from me right now?  I ask the baby, out loud, “What’s your plan?  Do you want to be born?”  It doesn’t seem like the baby is ready either, so we relax a bit.  Everything is still.  

I suddenly make a very clear decision, and I announce it to myself, my midwife, and my husband.  I refuse to move this process along.  If the baby wants out - let the baby come.  Baby knows what to do.  Things are happening with me or despite me.  I can't bring myself to add extra pressure onto all of that.  

Over the years, my parenting has shifted a lot.  When Rabbi Dov and I opened up Lamplighters, we evolved as parents and educators.  We learned about the importance of having a child lead the way in his or her journey of learning, growing and maturing.  It has become so much a part of us as we watch miracles unfold with each child of ours, with each student of ours, as we support their individual journey.  Every child, their own journey.  

It’s time to take this model of education and parenting into the birthing scene.  I try to get over myself, get over my discomfort, over my fears. 

It’s not about me.  It’s about my baby.  This is such a vulnerable place to be.  Whenever I parent in this way, I feel humbled to the max.  When I feel my child taking a path that doesn’t quite look like the path I thought best, I struggle to swallow my pride…. and I repeat those words “It’s not about me.  It’s about my child.”  To see your child stumble is hard!  To stay committed to the hands-off approach as they make their way is truly humbling.  

But it’s not about me, it’s about my baby, and every baby has their own journey. 

My midwife says the baby is almost here.  I don't believe her. It just seems so theoretical.  I’m staring at one candle that’s at eye level with me, contemplating its flickering flame - like the soul, hovering over me now… preparing to descend.  

Now I feel some progress, and a new wave of fear.  I hear myself saying, “No!  I’m not ready!  I need a little break!”  Again, I remember to ask the baby what it wants.  “Baby, is now a good time for some more rest?”  Baby answers me loud and clear by making its way out and into my arms.  I got my answer - baby knew exactly what it wanted. 

I can’t believe it, I truly can’t believe it, I am holding my baby!  It’s 3:49 am.  

Baby is on me.  Squirming.  Little whimpers.  What an absolutely gentle entrance into this world.  

Baby isn’t screaming, baby isn’t crying… baby isn’t breathing.  You read that right, baby isn’t breathing.  Not one of us is worried in any way.  It is clear that the baby had such a gentle birth, it barely realized it was born and now time to breathe on its own!  The midwife stimulates the baby by rubbing its back, tickling its feet and gently calling out, “Okay baby, it’s time to finish being born”.  She feels its heart rate going healthy and strong, and the umbilical cord is pulsing strongly, indicating oxygen being transferred to its sweet body.  I marvel at how much trust in the process fills the room. "Think good and it will be good" - it's a proven truth.

Baby whimpers some more and is softly breathing on its own.  

I ask Dov to call for Chaya and Yaffa, my 16 and 17 year old daughters.  Let them be here when we discover the baby's gender. They come up in their pj’s.  We’ve all been convinced this baby was a girl.  And now look at those lips!  Yet… every baby, their own journey… Surprise!  It’s a boy!  I had to look three times to believe that. 

Dov and our daughters enjoy those first precious moments with baby while I get settled.  We call for Moti (14), Bracha Leba (12) and Menucha (10).  We made a decision to leave Devorah Leah (8), Menachem (6) and Arik (4) to get a good night’s sleep and share the joy with them in the morning. 

Pajama Party it is!  My adrenaline is rolling, and we enjoy precious moments together.  We call my parents and in true 2020 virtual style, they get to see the baby close up!  (See snapshot of our video call)

My midwife includes the children in the process of weighing and measuring the baby, all in such a gentle fashion.  Still no crying heard from this little one, just sweet little whimpers.  Lots of questions asked and answered, about the vernex, the cord, the color of his feet and hands.   

Everyone goes back to bed.  I lie in bed and can’t stop thinking about how smoothly it all happened.  Moments before it felt completely impossible, totally theoretical.  And then just like that - it was as real as real can get.  That’s how Moshiach will come.  Theory, speculation, yearning, praying… and then - just like that, that "theoretical dream" will be our reality.  

 Now we prepare for a Zoom-Bris.  As strange as it is, I embrace the unique journey of this child.  All the children home all day?  What a blessing! I’ve never had more available hands to love the baby and give me support!  I am rejoicing in this baby’s journey.  

Hashem, thank you for performing miracles through us!  I am committed to be faithful to my role as a mother and wife.  To listen to those around me and see how I can help them grow on their individual journeys. 

Every child of Yours,

Hashem,

Has their own unique journey.  

Hodu La'Shem Ki Tov!

Thank you Hashem, for You are so, so, so good!

I have not slept in seven months. 
No kidding. 
It's starting to get to me. 

Yakov Ariel, my baby "Arik", just didn't seem to fall into a good sleep-routine like the others did. 

After trying some gentle sleep-training methods, I realized I needed to use the approach I was avoiding.  I would have to listen to some crying.

So after much thought and discussion, Dov and I braced ourselves for a few sleepless nights - for the sake of getting normalcy back into our lives.  I lovingly explained to Arik what we were going to do.  "Yakov Ariel, you are big and strong now.  We know you can sleep the full night.  It will be better for you, better for Mommy.  We will be right here in the room next to yours.  And we will play more in the morning... I love you sweet boy..."

Yakov Ariel cried a lot.  It was painful to listen to.  The poor kid!  He just wants his Mommy! He wants me to hold him close, to nurse him. 

As he cried, I stood outside his room listening carefully.  I kept reminding myself - it's either him crying for some time now, or me crying lots later from sleep deprivation!! 

I listened out to hear - is that just fussing... or real crying?  Has he reached hysterics... or is he starting to settle?  Every few minutes Dov and I took turns going in to soothe him, tell him we love him, and help calm him down. 

It is so hard to hear him call for us and refrain from running to him!  Yet I know it's good for him...  Soon he will be able to settle himself and sleep so deeply.  This will be behind us. 

Soon it will be morning and I will scoop him up into my arms and hold him close.

This morning, after my first good night's sleep in ages, I thought to myself: G-d is our parent.

He is good.  He is only good.  Sometimes He wants something for us that is so good, it requires some "training". Sometimes He opts for the Cry-It-Out method with us - His children. 

Oh, but He is listening!  He is keeping it way more controlled than we can imagine!  We may cry and cry at night.  We may be in such deep pain, it is excruciating.  We feel abandoned!  Where on earth did He go???  We want to feel Him close! 

Yet He is mighty close.  He is carefully monitoring this painful process, making sure we are not completely losing it.  He sends us various forms of comfort and layers of support.  And believe it or not, He is crying with us. עמו אנוכי בצרה.

I find it amazing how in the morning - when I come and take sweet Arik out of his crib - he is all smiles, giggles and cuddles, as if nothing happened last night. 

Yes - we also wake up in the morning - and suddenly all is well!  We are in love with G-d all over again.  It seems like last night was just a bad dream. 

But here's the thing:  Hashem has way more resources than us, infinitely more resources.  Hashem has an awesome method to give us the peace we need.  It's a super-gentle method He will use when Moshiach comes.  A method that can bring endless growth to the entire universe - with no tears!  With no pain!  Yes - it is gain, WITHOUT pain!  It's a method He invented thousands of years ago, when He created the world.  This method is not very complicated for Him at all. 

In fact, He plans to begin implementing it any moment now. 

So hang in there.

He's coming to scoop us into His warm and loving arms.

I knew he would be a boy. In my ninth month of pregnancy my eight-year-old asked me: "Is it possible for Uncle Ariel's neshama (soul) to come back down and be in the baby that's inside you now...?"

Hashem sent us another precious neshama.  It was obvious that we were going to name the baby after my brother Ariel ob"m.  Rabbi Dov's Zaidy - Jack (Yakov) Muchnik was an incredible personality who lived a long and healthy life. The combination of those two names seemed perfect to us. Yakov Ariel.

When I hear my brother's name fill our home as we call, chant and sing to our new baby... I get shivers every time. I didn't quite imagine what it would be like to have a new "Ariel" back with us... It's heavy, pretty intense, but so very special.  Like my father said at the Bris: "Our family is now back to the same amount of people we were eighteen months ago..."

My sweet baby, I hope you grow up to have the incredible qualities of your Great-Zaidy and Uncle. I can't wait for you to meet them both!

You are so very tiny... yet you have already brought us all great comfort.

I wrote a song for Yakov Ariel, a lullaby, to one of my brother's favorite tunes.  Click here to hear Menucha (age six) sing it to the baby - she wanted to learn every word of it so she can sing it to him at night.  

They tell me G-d is good.

They tell me that every blade of grass sways by G-d’s command. 

And the movement of that blade of grass is part of the ultimate master-plan for our world. 

But then they told me that my brother passed away suddenly, in middle of the night.

They tell me his wife and young children need to figure out life without him now.

So is G-d really good???

There is something else that they tell me.  They tell me that if things don’t seem good, then my job is to make them good. 

If I see imperfections in His perfect world, it is because He is giving me the opportunity to partner with Him and make it perfect.

Today is Ariel’s first Yartzeit.  I have no idea how to process that.  What am I supposed to think?  Feel?  Say?  Do?  No clue. 

Today I woke up to hundreds – literally – of emails, texts, and voice messages.  Apparently in middle of the night, some “hacker” out in San Francisco got into my email account and sent out a message to my over 5,000 contacts.  In a message so cleverly written, the email was asking each recipient to please open the attached PDF to review some documents.  Some of my contacts notified me that my account was hacked.  But an astounding amount of friends were urgently trying to get a hold of me to find out how exactly they could open the attached PDF as it was asking them for their username, password, etc…. 

Simple solution – I should notify my entire contact list that it was spam.  Sounds simple – but my account wouldn't let me send out a single email because of the suspicious activity.  So here I am, spending the Yartzeit hours responding to people I have not been in contact with for years, via text, phone, and an alternate account. 

Anyone who has had their account hacked into can probably relate to the frustration.  I feel violated!  I feel embarrassed!  I feel so sorry for all of those whose accounts might also be compromised because they tried to open a communication “from me”. 

I am once again reminded about how out-of-my-hands life really is.  How G-d runs the world, and doesn’t quite ask for my opinion about what the next step should be. 

True, in the scheme of things this is a truly tiny frustration.  Yet for me it is a significant reminder about my lack of control…

So – He is good, and all He does is good. 

Where is the good in some trouble-maker out there trying to rob people’s personal information…??  Meddling into my account and contacting my friends for me??

It didn’t take too long for me to find the good.  I got some insight into what His master-plan with this one was.  And knowing my brother Ariel, he was probably orchestrating things from above.

You see, Ariel had one goal in life – to love his family and to bring as many other Jews as he can into his life with the warmth of Torah and Mitvos.  Ariel had clever ways of going about this!  With his humorous and smart way, he would get people who were hiding from Judaism in the door.  People loved him for it!    

Hannah*, a woman who lives in Oxnard, is someone we have tried many times to involve in our programs and classes.  We’ve had many conversations and many attempts to bring her in with warmth and friendship.  But with the “unsubscribe” button on our website, she showed us that she really wanted her space.  So I gave in.

I know my brother Ariel would not have given in.  While most of us are focused on the big picture, Ariel cared more about that one person hiding in the corner.  So perhaps from above, Ariel organized somehow that an email communication should go out, on his Yartzeit, to every single one of my contacts.  How did he reach Hannah??  I thought I didn’t even have her current email address anymore?!  But Hannah called me, asking me how she can download that PDF.  We got into a great conversation, catching up on the last few years.  She said to me:  “I think Someone Above orchestrated this so I should get back into the fold…  He sure works in interesting ways… I went on your website and noticed you have a ladies group on Wednesday evenings – can I join….?”

Only Ariel could have pulled that off - both in his life, and after.  Hannah is joining class!  Mind you, I wasn’t sure if I was having class this week… But Ariel thinks otherwise.  He is reminding me – “Racheli, what can be more important than learning Torah with your friends in Oxnard??”

I give in.  I will. 

Of course G-d is good.  Of course every blade of grass and every email is part of His glorious master-plan. 

My job is not to ask “why?”

My job is not to complain about His ways. 

My job is to partner with Him, and make it all good.    

Ariel, “Hack the Heavens” for us please!  Convince G-d to send Redemption, and return to your family! 

Ariel, help us make this all good!   

*Names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals. 

I felt so abandoned. 

I was standing at the Ferris Wheel at S. Monica Pier, with my three little ones.  I didn't have my phone on me (I had left it behind as I was trying to really focus on my family).  I somehow got separated from my husband and my other children at the park.  Wandering around with my slow-walking three-year-old in search for them was NOT working.  Twenty long minutes were filled with neck-craning to find him, asking favors from passersby to please allow me the use of their phones, and my little ones anxiously nudging "WHERE IS TATTY???".  And then we were finally re-united.  

I was completely not expecting those twenty minutes to affect me to the core as they did.  I had to escape the scene to allow myself a good cry.  Only then was I able to stop and get in touch with why I was so shaken up.

Two weeks away from Ariel's yartzeit, the emotions associated with it are still in my deepest subconscious thoughts.

It seems that above all of the thoughts and feelings... his yartzeit brings up traumatic feelings on how life can turn over in a moment...

How is it fair that Hashem can suddenly rip a father away from his wife and kids?? How can that happen without a moment's warning?!

That seems to bug me just as much as the actual loss of a brother...

My few short moments of feeling abandoned gave me the harshest insight, maybe just a tiny glimpse, on the monstrous emotions that must be experienced by those mommies who lost their husbands in middle of nowhere... Stranded!  Abandoned!  Left with little ones anxiously asking "WHERE IS TATTY???"

That familiar heart-wrenching pain is back. It is a level of grief that humans shouldn't be allowed to experience.

Where is Hashem? Where is our Rebbe?  We have a promise from our leader that we are leaving this bitter exile.  We have a promise from our Creator for a better world. 

WHERE IS OUR TATTY???

We feel abandoned.  Did He forget about us...?!  What hurts more than anything else is the fleeting thoughts that the promises of reuniting were forgotten G-d forbid...

Where is He???

Tonight I paid a shiva call to someone who lost their elderly mom.  Saying the traditional words of comfort made me feel alone.  How many times have I heard those words? But where is Tatty?

It is so very hard to believe,  but He WILL suddenly appear.   As suddenly as a father turning the corner in a busy amusement park, to reunite with his family. 

Oh how hard it is to trust.  How hard it is to believe. 

But what's my alternative? 

Today I had a taste of the future...

It has been over six weeks - 45 days to be exact - since my son Moti left to Camp Gan Yisroel in Montreal.  It is the camp where Dov celebrated his 7th birthday during the summer of 1985, and spent just about every summer there until he was Head Counselor the summer before we got married in 2001. 

This was Moti's first time away in overnight camp, so sending him for two months was a big deal.

I had been missing Moti so much, it actually hurt!  It's hard to describe my longing for him during the last few weeks, without being able to see, hear or touch him.  It's as if a part of me was missing... I think that this pain has been amplified and intensified because of the loss of my brother this year...  There was definitely a similar trigger for me whenever I walked by Moti's room, saw a photo of him, or heard the sweetness of his voice on a recording he made for me.  It was a recording of him playing his keyboard and singing a melody he composed...  A feeling that felt not so different than the longing I have for Ariel ob"m...

Where are you Moti? What are you doing now? Are you happy?  Are your bunk-mates being nice? Do you miss home?

But my "Yiddisheh Mameh" concerns were comforted by the Friday morning 60-second-phone calls I received.  After a quick hello, he'd say "Mommy, I have to go now".  I guess that means he's having fun?

Dov graciously agreed to my wild idea of both of us taking the flight to visit Moti on visiting day.  We also wanted to be there for my nephew Mendy, my brother Ariel's son, who is also in camp.  As we drove down the windy paths of Chemin De La Minerve in the Laurentian Mountains of Quèbec, toward the campsite, Dov shared his excitement to see Moti in "his" camp.  He described how every single turn, bend, tree, and rock in this camp is saturated with memories, of summers filled with fun, friendships, and good-old growing up. 

As we parked our car, though, I could barely hear him anymore.  My heart was beating too loudly.  I'm about to see MOTI!!!!!  I'm screaming inside, trying to control my wild excitement.  I reminded myself NOT to embarrass the poor kid.  Is it his fault I'm a mother overflowing with emotions??? ;-)

We approach the gorgeous lake on camp grounds, with the Camp Flag proudly flapping in the breeze, and hundreds of boys getting into their "Line-Up" positions. My eyes are anxiously scanning the swarms of sweet faces with yamukahs and tzitzis flying.

Where's my Moti???

My heart is pounding with excitement.

I'm about to see my Moti!!!

And then I spot him.  I see his dimples from across the large grassy field....He's ALIVE!!   As we embrace, I am fighting a sea of tears, from weeks of yearning and built-up emotions.

I remain silent, remembering my commitment to not embarrass the boy.  But in my mind I call out, "Oh Moti, please don't leave again!  Stay with us forever.  The day you were born was the last time I held you in my arms with such joy. I don't want to let go!"  But he wiggled away to join his friends again. 

And I took a step back... I think that I just had a teeny tiny taste of what it might be like when Moshiach comes.

There is actually a blessing that is said after seeing someone that you have not communicated with or seen in over a year.  In that blessing of “Baruch... mechayeh hameisim” one is thanking G-d Who revives the dead.  Reviving the dead?  I think I can now appreciate the connection!

One of the Thirteen Principles of Jewish Faith, is the hardest one (in my opinion) to truly believe.  It is the belief in the Resurrection of the Dead.

So I looked up the words of the Prophet Isaiah, to see it black on white.  He writes: "Your dead shall be revived, my corpses shall arise; awaken and sing, you who dwell in the dust…”

It's for real, everyone.  This ain't just a one-day-visiting-day experience.  This is going to be forever and ever! 

All the aching, all the longing, that indescribable pain we experience now - will vanish at that moment.  Not just vanish, it will be replaced with proportionate ecstasy when we embrace our loved ones once again. 

Today I had a teeny tiny taste of what it may feel like - and I can't wait to experience the rest. 

Let us prepare for the happiest tears we have ever shed.  Ever.

 Click here for a short video of Moti at Line-Up on visiting day at CGI Montreal.  

I don’t like being judged.  I don’t like being criticized. 

I have always thought of myself as somewhat of a perfectionist.  I was hard on myself, and wanted things done ‘just right’.  As time went on, I began to realize that just about everyone around me is a ‘perfectionist’ in their own unique way.  Some with achieving perfect handwriting, perfect parenting, perfect relationships, or perfectly clean homes.  Who doesn’t want perfection?

That is because Hashem created us that way!  He created us “betzalmo” - “in His Image” – which is perfect!  And He gave us a very perfect driving force within – our G-dly soul.  So we will forever feel agitated – until we reach perfection, until that perfect space within us is nourished.  And we will forever feel uncomfortable in an imperfect world – for deep within, we know it wasn’t meant to be this way forever. 

When I used to whine to my mother as a child, “it’s not fair!!”  She’d respond with a smile, “Yup, life’s not fair!”  I remember clearly how much that concept bothered me.  I think children know in their gut that an unfair world is not a reality that will exist forever. 

So if I have an unrealistic wish to be perfect, it makes sense that it hurts when someone points out that I am not… It bugs me to be reminded that I am human!  That I am not perfect. 

It’s a funny thing, because on the one hand – G-d wants us to do incredibly huge things – like Him!  He wants us to be G-dly!  To spread light!  To achieve great heights!  Yet He made us human… and humans make mistakes…  So as great as He wants us to be, He also wants us to remember how small we really are in His presence…

When people give constructive criticism with loads of love, respect, and with the full intention of helping me grow – I embrace it.  It still is not easy to swallow – but I do appreciate the opportunity for growth.

“Cherish criticism, for it will place you on the true heights”, said Rabbi Sholom Dov Ber of Lubavitch. 

Yet I have seen that criticism that comes without respect, reproof that is void of love and concern… can really hurt.  My instinctive reaction?  To judge right back…!  “Who says you’re so perfect???  Who gives you the right to correct me?” I throw a tantrum in my mind. 

My brain takes me on a trip, jumping between two types of feelings.  From feeling painfully guilty for the actual mistake I had made that was just pointed out.  To extreme irritation at the person pointing out my mistake. 

Until Moshiach comes - “life is not perfect” - and people will say things the way they do, sometimes lacking tact and feeling. 

Yet in truth – G-d has sent those harsh words my way for a reason: for my good.  

Perhaps G-d is simply trying to remind me that I have lots yet to achieve.  If arrogance is the most un-G-dly character trait, then a dose of humility is a priceless opportunity to welcome G-d in.  My mistakes have been pointed out, to perhaps remind me that I am NOT PERFECT and I have a lifetime to work towards perfection.  G-d’s greatness is infinite – so I really have forever and ever to unite with His perfection.  G-d is protecting me from arrogance that may come from getting no criticism at all. 

I can be thankful to all those who have pointed out my mistakes, for they keep me on my toes and remind me that there is more work to do.  They remind me how small I really am.  They help me stay motivated to strive higher, and deepen my relationship with Hashem and with others.    

So to all those who have felt judged or criticized by me in the past – I am truly sorry for any pain I have caused you.

And for all those who have pointed out my mistakes – thank you for the reminder that I have more work to do.

Am I perfect?  Certainly not!  None of us are – and there’s no need to judge each other for that.  G-d wants us to strive for perfection and for a perfect world - so let’s support each other with this seemingly impossible task. 

We will never be bored of growing!  We are taught that when Moshiach comes, we will go “mechayil el choyil” – from strength to strength.  During that time there will always be new opportunities for growth, exciting content to learn, thrilling heights to reach, and refreshing goals to achieve. 

I look forward to a time when we can celebrate each other’s accomplishments and support each other’s growth – with mutual respect and good-old teamwork.  

Last week I put my phone on Airplane Mode for 48 hours.  It was NOT easy.  I just needed to get away.  True, I warned all parties who needed to know that in case of emergency, they can either call 911, or my good-sport of a husband Rabbi Dov…

Yet knowing that I was missing text messages, notifications, and emails at every moment and I wasn’t available to respond… was quite a challenge!  True, I turn off my phone every Shabbos… but this was different.  This was something I was choosing to do on a typical Wednesday and Thursday. 

Yet suddenly I noticed opportunities opening up that I would have never dreamt of!  Opportunities to reflect, to feel inspired, to truly relax,  and to bond with loved ones in a meaningful way. 

It almost felt like Moshiach-times!

 I think about the clear directive that our Rebbe gave us – to begin to create a "bubble" of Redemption around us as a preparation for the real-deal.  It is something I struggle with, and find myself searching for ways to fulfill it - practically.

Since I was a child, I was taught that when Moshiach comes, we will travel to the Holy Lang on clouds.  Perhaps it was the prophet’s allusion to airplane travel..?!  Will we all take chartered flights to Israel when Moshiach comes…?

There’s nothing like lifting off, (putting that phone away!), and seeing the ground, miles and miles below.

I think I am going to implement a new way to create that “Redemption-bubble”.  Perhaps I can give myself designated times that I literally put that phone on airplane mode - forcing myself to focus on the spiritual, and on those who I love and who are right at my side. 

When I put my phone on airplane-mode, I can visualize what it will feel like to be lifted off of my feet, and away from the current stresses and reality called exile – off to magical heights, and back home to the Holy Land. 

I can start to warm up for that exciting journey right now.

Okay, phone off. 

 Try Dov if you need something :-) 

“Can you imagine wearing a “kick me” sign on your back, and not being able to take it off?”  That was one of the many moving lines that Tikvah Juni shared at last night’s Friendship Circle Garden Party that my brother and sister-in-law hosted. 

Tikvah is a woman with Down’s Syndrome.  She was flown out to speak to all of us – friends, supporters and volunteers at the Friendship Circle in Los Angeles.  Her story moved us all to tears, and climaxed with a long and thunderous standing ovation.

  She spoke about what it feels like to be different.  About the pain and hurt she experienced as a child.  She reflected on the joy she had when she was once invited to a slumber-party by the “cool girls”.  She didn’t think twice when she was told that it would cost her money to attend the party.  She asked us all to stop and imagine the pain and hurt she felt when she later found out that she was the only girl who was asked to pay… 

With a huge smile, she shared:  “Being socially awkward, being in a wheelchair, being different – that’s HARD!  Being friendly?  That’s EASY!”   That got us all really thinking.  It is often hard to be friendly to people that are different.  But to think about how much harder their life is…!

And that’s when she shared what it feels like to wear a label “different” and not be able to take it off.  To wear a metaphorical sign that reads “kick me!” and not be able to rid yourself of it.

We have an incredible member of our Oxnard community with special needs.  He is truly loved and cherished by all.  He brings joy and laughter with his random comments that come from left field at any moment.  See, when it comes to people with outright special needs – in a way it might not be so hard to be warm and kind. 

But Tikvah mentioned people who are simply socially awkward.  How they didn’t choose to be like that. 

I never really thought about it that way.  In every social circle there are those that simply don’t “fit in” for whatever reason.  But it’s not their fault!

Living with Moshiach’s imminent arrival in mind, I hope to take steps towards true inclusion.  Including everyone into the community and making room in my heart for every type of person. 

The ultimate “inclusion” awaits us!  A world where everyone truly fits in!  Where every single person is valued and treasured for who they are.  Forget about “kick me!” I think we’ll be saying “pinch me!” when we see the world the way it will appear during that special time…

Rabbi Dov and I at the Friendship Circle Garden Party. Friendship Circle of Los Angeles, is directed by my brother Rabbi Michy and his wife Miriam Rav-Noy.