The Vocation

I have always known that my vocation was to be a wife and mother...even before I knew what the word vocation meant.  I dreamed of a houseful of sweet babies.  

Joy came into our lives.  We were pregnant after many, many months of praying, "Please God, please let me get pregnant!"   My Honey, though squeamish, injected me with hormones because my levels were low.  I gave up coffee...sat gently...avoided lifting anything heavy.  I was so happy and content and dreaming of the sweet smell that would come from my cooing little one. Weeks of happiness came to an end with a quiet ultrasound. Martha Delaney had died.  I was given a choice of a D & C or to let things "happen" naturally.  I chose the latter so that we could have a chance to bury our child properly.  The hormones that I had been given to help keep me pregnant had to wear off so that my body would quit being fooled into thinking that a miracle was actually going to happen.  I kept hoping that the doctor had been wrong & that we would go back in and he would say, "Nevermind! There she is!"  That didn't happen.  After several weeks of walking around with my little, lifeless baby inside of my womb, I labored for a day and delivered at home.  We were able to hold her.  Ten perfectly tiny fingers.  Big, sweet eyes.  I had prepared a white cotton cloth to put her in.  My husband said seeing me with her reminded him of The Pieta.  I did feel Mary's sorrow.  I was holding in my hands my lifeless child.  I turned to the Blessed Mother for strength and understanding.  How?  Why?  I blamed myself incessantly.  I blamed others for their hurtful reactions to our pregnancy announcement.  I was mad and hurt and I even yelled at God.  Not to...at.   Going to Mass was hard.  I didn't want to participate.  I didn't want to pray.  I didn't want to pretend I was ok with what had happened.  I finally decided that I was either going to lean on God or be against Him.  I knew that turning my back on Him wouldn't bring Martha back.  It wouldn't heal my family.  It wouldn't be a solution to any problem.  I went to adoration and cried and yelled and hugged the kneeler as if I was hugging my heavenly Father.  I think He was embracing me at that moment.  I think He was healing me in the presence of the Holy Eucharist...in the presence of my husband and kids.   Romans 8:28 reads, "We know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose."  

I have been on a road of healing.  It's bumpy & windy & like a roller coaster...but, I keep moving forward.