A Woman's Choice

            I read a fact the other day on the Internet: Eight percent of all babies in the womb who test positive for Down syndrome or a genetic anomaly survive and are born¹. That means 92% of all babies who test positive are aborted. Ninety two percent never get a chance; reading that fact shook me to my core.

            It reminded me of a story I had been told: In the late 80’s a woman found out she was pregnant on her 40^th birthday. She was surprised, but thrilled. At sixteen weeks the infant was tested for Down syndrome and the mother was shocked to hear that her baby tested positive. The doctor told her that according to the numbers, it was one of the most severe cases he had ever seen. He said she would need around the clock assistance just to care for her child’s basic needs. He insisted that she seek an immediate abortion. The mother refused, she said “I want to have this baby”. The doctor replied “No, ma’am, you see I only deliver perfect babies”. The woman looked at him and said “I have five children at home and not one of them is perfect. I am having this baby”. 

            I think of her situation, and the stress of having a big family and knowing the amount of time, resources and attention that would need to go into raising her youngest, but she stayed resolute.

            On September 11^th, 1987 she gave birth. The pediatrician in the delivery room picked up the baby, examined it and said “What are they talking about? This baby is perfect.” I think of the stress, the fear, the uncertainty that mother endured for those months of her pregnancy and I am so thankful for her decision. This is the story of my mother and her pregnancy with me. I am so thankful for her courage, her strength and that she wanted me. I am so thankful that she was willing to sacrifice for me, as she has throughout my life. I am happy I have had the chance to live, to go to college, to get married and to be a mother myself, when all of that could have been wiped away  in a moment if she had decided to go with the doctor’s direction and abort me. I am so grateful for my life and I don’t think I would feel any different or any less grateful if I had been born with Down syndrome. 

            I have heard that story probably a hundred times throughout my life, yet I have never thought of myself as a survivor. The real implications and danger of my situation never really struck me until I read that fact. I feel a sense of grief at my fellow 92% who tested positive and didn’t get the chance to live like I did. I also feel angry and indignant at those who insist, preach even, that no life is better than a difficult one. I wonder, would they feel so strongly if the life in question were their own?

            It is humbling to consider that we are all here because someone said “yes” and wanted us to be here. Not just our mothers, but our God. This week in the Church it is Pentecost and I feel I have a new lease on life. What is going on in our culture is sobering and we need to speak up for those who don’t have anyone to defend them in the womb. Testifying to the Truth in the world and that Jesus Christ is Lord is our mission and I want us to succeed. Christ has revealed Himself to the Apostles and revealed His Power in our lives and we must choose to spread this Good News. Just as the Holy Spirit gave the Apostles power at Pentecost It will also empower us. After all, Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit in Mary’s womb, so who better to help us protect the unborn of today?

1.       http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/(SICI)1097-0223(199909)19:9%3C808::AID-PD637%3E3.0.CO;2-B/abstract

The Beauty within the Church

         Recently I have heard many iterations of the same sentiment, especially in the social media world, that the Church is “failing” us. Sometimes in the Internet realm, as a Catholic, I feel like a stranger in a foreign land. When I read these articles I feel like being Catholic is something laughable or outdated. It seems like it is better and more acceptable to identify yourself as practically anything other than Catholic and pro-life.  I see people using these secular sources and media outlets to understand what the Church is saying on matters. Yet would anyone go to the United States Catholic Conference of Bishops’ website to see how the Phoenix Suns are doing? Even if the USCCB did comment on the Suns most people would go straight to the source to get their information.

            

         I see so much confusion and anger towards the “Church” in the world, yet primarily the Church is made up of us, her members. In the Catechism of the Catholic Church it says “’The Church’ is the People that God gathers in the whole world. She exists in local communities and is made real as a liturgical, above all a Eucharistic, assembly” (CCC 752). The Pope, bishops and priests lead us but the people are the tangible manifestation of the Church in the day to day realities of life. If people are disappointed in the Church, it is up to us as Catholics to show them Love and Charity, “This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). The sacraments, from which we constantly draw strength and grace, aid us in this endeavor.

            Priests are the face of Catholicism to many people. We all know the tragic stories of priests who have fallen into sin. But what never makes the front page of the paper, or even page 15, what no one mentions in their Facebook statuses, are the faithful priests who are doing their best and glorifying God every day, who sit in the confessional for hours every week, who visit the sick, sit with the dying, sacrifice time with their families and friends to be with their parishioners; priests who wake up early every morning to start their day in prayer and stay up late to end it in the same way. Yet they rarely have someone to witness and write about these daily heroic acts of love.

            I know that priests are human, I lived with one. My big brother became a priest two years ago. We expect priests and the church to be made up of perfect, sinless members, yet they are human. I have heard it said many times – if you want better priests, pray for them; they are praying for you.

            There are so many good, holy, Catholic people I encounter the more involved I become with my parish. People I see patiently waiting in the confession line every week. The couples faithfully using Natural Family Planning instead of contraception, who love it and talk about how it is helping their marriage thrive. I see men and women who have experienced the pain of divorce but continue to lead holy lives, going to mass every Sunday and being embraced by our community. The other day I saw a lovely woman from our parish waiting for the bus so she could take Holy Communion to the people in a senior living community, when she herself lives in an assisted living home and doesn’t even have a car. All of these people are trying to live the faith not because they feel oppressed by it but because they love it, because it is making their lives better, and because they have a sincere love for Jesus. They see goodness and the message of Jesus Christ being faithfully spread by the Catholic Church. It is hard not to stand in awe of convicted people doing their best every day and living lives that are pleasing to the Lord. So much beauty is found in those who fill our churches.

            The Catholic Church has provided such joy and truth in my life. The teachings I have struggled with understanding the most, once looked into (using the Catechism, Scripture, talking to priests and other reliable sources) I have come to find make the most sense in a truly beautiful and completely rational way. The sacraments have been a source of grace, aid and joy to me throughout my life. Yes, it is hard sometimes, “How narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to life” (Matthew 7:14), but like any commitment or worthwhile relationship it requires work and dedication. As G.K. Chesterton said “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and left untried,” No matter where I have been in the world and no matter what day it is I have always been able to find a church with open doors, and for that I am eternally grateful. The Church is not failing, it is alive and well, and if ever we feel it is then we should look inward and discover what it is that we have left untried.

The Smallest Gift

Lately there are many things in the media speaking about women’s rights and women’s freedom. In my short lifetime of 24 years there has always been the controversy around abortion and now we are freshly confronted with the HHS mandate disputes. Now, even though I am tempted to confront the issues themselves I am sure there are others who are much more qualified to write about them and my views can also be found primarily in the truths outlined in the Catholic Catechism. But I like to stick to what I know and as a young wife and mother I know what it is to be daunted by the prospect of a not-so-planned pregnancy.

At 21 I got married and a month later we moved to Italy together. We both had jobs working on an American campus about 45 minutes outside of Rome. We of course were open to having a baby at any time but I was also very nervous about having a baby in Italy. I didn’t know if pregnancy would jeopardize my employment and I was wary of the Italian healthcare system, being totally ignorant of it.

I remember going to confession shortly after marriage and telling the priest that I was lacking faith in the Lord with my fear of pregnancy. I didn’t know if he would think I was a bad Catholic when he heard this, but instead he looked at me with love and said “I want you to pray to our mother Mary and pray that she reveals to you the consolations of motherhood”.  I thought about that for a long time and today I still do think of that advice. In prayer I would repeat to myself “the consolations of motherhood… what is that?” I knew what it felt like to babysit other children and to dote on them, but I had no idea what having a child of my own would entail. One of the most terrifying things is the unknown. And at the time, pregnancy and motherhood seemed very unknown.

We arrived to our new home in Italy in July and we were presented with a positive pregnancy test in September, the weekend after my 22^nd birthday. Steve and I were so joyful, but I would be lying if I didn’t say we were also shocked. I didn’t know so many things: what pregnancy would be like, giving birth, being at the mercy of an Italian hospital, how my boss would take the news after I was a new hire, and how much the necessary healthcare would cost—I was overwhelmed with unknowns. But the great thing about being Catholic and Christian is the complete certainty that the Lord knows. Every little fear I had, I knew the Lord not only knew intimately but also had a plan for.

The birth went well and we had a perfect, beautiful baby girl and now all those fears that I had pale in comparison to the greater gift of life that they surrounded. Now I think of the consolations of motherhood and instead of drawing a blank so many things come to mind—seeing the actual face of my child and holding her in my arms for the first time, the joyful exclamation of “Hi Mama!” I receive every single morning when I walk into Abby’s room, the unexpected little hug or kiss or smile given when most needed on a bad day. I also think of the privilege of motherhood and pregnancy and feeling a baby kick that not all women are blessed with and remind myself to be thankful for it. These are things not to be treated or prevented like a disease but things to remain in awe of, that our Lord would trust us with them. I gave up complete control for the greater gift of joy. To me, there is no right or freedom that could compare to this gift.

Holy Week

Holy week is a serious time for us Catholics. It is considered the most holy, solemn week of the liturgical year. We know priests are having a purifying and sanctifying week, we witness their hours spent in the confessional, marching down the aisle night after night for holy week services, kneeling before altars of repose, leading the stations of the cross, presiding over masses, and who knows what else they may be doing when not surrounded by parishioners. I have visions of various forms of corporal punishment, bread and water and other holy and pious things.

Then there is me. As Christ aptly reminds us, the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, and my mind and level of focus are daily reminders of this. As a young mother of a nearly 2 year old mass can sometimes be a challenge. The more engrossed I become in prayer and the more I ignore my daughter in mass the more those around me suffer her disturbances. Sure, I have fantasized about ditching her in the cry room and taking some alone time to pray in mass but I don’t think the unsuspecting public in there would be so keen on me unleashing my exuberant 2 year old on them. Yet as many excuses as I have for laziness in my focus and prayer life, I somehow know that just because I am not an ordained person doesn’t mean that I am not still called to be holy and close to the Lord. I want to love the Lord and be his dear friend but the perpetually nagging question is—how?   

            In some ways the most difficult part is being still, being still and attentive before the Lord. Forcing my mind to be still and not to worry about my daughter or what I’m going to make for dinner or what errands I need to run but to focus on the gravity of the presence of Christ in the mass and in my life. My husband and I just finished a Jeff Cavins’ Bible study on Acts with the parish in which he spoke of entering into the Lord’s rest on Sunday at mass. Cavins impressed upon me how much the Lord desires us to truly enter into His holy, renewing presence and to rest there. As an inexperienced mom still trying to grapple with succeeding in this vocation of motherhood sometimes the hardest call I receive is the call to slow down and stop, to stop and praise the Lord and give Him my time, which I am in the habit of dividing and guarding so fiercely.

            I know my limits. And I know that just because I am not an ordained religious doesn’t mean that I am not called to the same level of holiness in the sacrament of marriage. Creativity needs to win out. If Christ could focus in prayer in the garden of Gethsemane on the eve of His Passion and death, can I not find a way to praise Him with just one small child and a house that I am attempting to run? Holy week is upon us and I have such a desire to enter into it. But these things don’t just happen. The sacredness of my time depends on the preciseness of my planning. I need to plan out confession, stations of the cross, mass and prayer time just as our priests do. And most importantly I need to show up. Not just in flesh but in spirit and in mind. Just as we look for the priest’s presence at holy week events I know the Lord is looking for me.

Luckily, I am not without direction, the apostles leave us great examples in Acts of the power of prayer and fasting. As Mother Theresa said “There are no great acts only small acts done with great love”. It is the daily battles of clinging to the Lord and trying to be patient even when my daughter Abby is throwing a tantrum or when I don’t want to wake up for morning mass that I need to fight. The path is bumpy and imprecise but I look to the holy people God has put in my life as examples of warriors, fighting the good fight in small ways, and hope that I will use the grace God gives me to make a sincere effort at having a prayerful holy week this Lenten season.