Recuperating

Yesterday, October 3, was what would have been the due date of the second child I conceived, Lily.

I surprised myself by how well I handled it. She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up. I felt sad that I never got to hold her. That I never even got to see her on a sonogram. I felt so very, very sorry--sorry that she died, but not that she existed. If she had never been I wouldn't have gone through the pain of losing her, but even having her those few short weeks was worth any price. I felt the hurt and the disappointment all over again, but I didn't let it control me.

I prayed for her at Mass instead of asking God why. Is this what acceptance feels like?

The past few weeks I have been feeling the presence of God in strange and wonderful ways. The most jolting was last Friday. After rolling out of bed I went to daily Mass. Without why it was on my mind or how it got there, before the Mass began I was contemplating the phrase "I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made". I am not one to memorize or quote scripture, so it was very out of character for me. I suddenly realized that although there may be something wrong with me that will prevent me from becoming a mother naturally, I am still fearfully and wonderfully made. My little saints, though they could not continue to live, were also fearfully and wonderfully made. God took care with us. He took care OF us. I felt more loved that I had in a very long time.

When the lector proclaimed those very words as part of the Responsorial Psalm, I about fell off the pew in shock.

Then, at Mass yesterday, St. Paul tells Timothy that "God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather of power and love and self-control. With God, I can be strong. I can be brave. I will not lose heart.

God isn't doing anything extra. It's just that, now that I have laid aside my hurt and anger I am finally able to listen.