Comfort in Sorrowful Times

I delivered our sweet baby girl on Friday, March 18, 2016.

Right in between St. Patrick and St. Joseph's feast days, you'll find what for us will always be Gianna Cecilia's day.

When I faced this the first time, with our son Benedict, I had only found out the day before that he had died, and the entire process felt like an assault. God was there with us, I could feel Him, but the only verse that kept coming to my mind was, "When you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go." (Jn 21:18)

Although I still had to do something I did not want to do, with Gianna's birth, everything was slower and more gentle. I smiled interiorly at the thought that I could tell the difference between the birth of my son, named for two male saints, and my daughter, named for two women saints. Not that I didn't experience God's grace and presence, and prayers, during Benedict's birth. But during Gianna's birth, I felt like those two saints' prayers were with me in the little things, in the kind of things women would think about, even down to the nurse bringing me a chicken salad with dried cranberries when I was finally able to eat. She had just finished telling me there probably wouldn't be any decent options, and expressed her surprise that the meal actually looked good. For someone who hadn't really eaten in a day or so, it was very good!

I was surprised and deeply moved by the mementos given to us at the hospital--things made by other moms who also have lost babies. We got a beautiful teddy bear and knit blanket, which honestly helped me sleep much better throughout my time there. We got a very pretty basket full of a mug and tea, a journal and a pen, Kleenex, flower seeds, and a note saying two women donated the box in memory of their babies Miriam, Josiah, and Luke. I cannot express the comfort that box brought me.

We also received a beautiful rosary made by students at a local Catholic school, for families going through such a loss. The card it came with listed the spiritual and corporal works of mercy, which reminded me that we are in the midst of the Jubilee of Mercy. Not only have I been called to share God's mercy this year, but clearly I also have been called to receive it. Through our suffering, those students were able to "comfort the afflicted." My parents and my friend bringing us dinner tonight have been able to "feed the hungry" (and "comfort the afflicted" as well).

Gianna's actual birth also was more gentle than Benedict's. However, the experiences of holding each of them are very similar in my mind. They are among the most sacred and holy moments of my life. I am in awe of the beauty of God's handiwork that I have seen expressed in each of my children. With Gianna and Benedict though, we knew our moments to actually hold them would be so brief, and there was a special quietness and beauty and a knowledge of God's presence that I don't think I have experienced in that way at any other time in my life.

For quite a long time, I was able just to hold my daughter close to my heart. It felt so simple and obvious, "Yes, I am her mother, and this is where she belongs." We were able to tell her how much we loved her. We were able to pray over her. We will always be her parents, but for a short while, we were able to be her parents in a physical way.

I am so thankful to the medical professionals who honored the preciousness of these moments, and who brought so much reverence and awe to their time helping us as well.

We will lay Gianna to rest at the Angelus Memorial, with Benedict. He was buried wrapped in a handkerchief from his great-grandparents. This time, the hospital gave us a beautiful sleeping bag, also made by a mother who has experienced a similar loss. The inside was a beautiful pink satin, and the outside was a softer pink material, with some pearl-like beads sewn onto the top. It was so comforting to know we could wrap her in there, and she can be laid to rest in something so beautiful that also was made with much love.

Every nurse was supportive, gentle, and so caring. I chose a different doctor and hospital for this pregnancy, based on what I perceived to be my higher risk (because of my age and other factors) and simply because I felt like God was leading me to choose this doctor, who is very pro-life, and very experienced. I believe I definitely benefited from his experience, and from the compassion of the nurses who work with him. I don't think I can express my gratitude enough.

I still want to share some of the Bible verses that have touched my heart and strengthened me through this time. But I am glad I found this chance to share some of the graces God blessed us with, and the kindnesses shown to us by people at the hospital and from those mothers who are reaching out to help others experiencing similar losses. These were all such gifts to me, and I don't want to forget them.