Don't you love it when that happens?

Depends on what you're talking about.  There are lots of things that happen that I love a lot, and lots that I don't love at all.  As I spend more time on this journey though, I've become more and more aware, sometimes painfully, of who is really in charge, and of who wants to be in charge.  It's been a battle for sure.  I know after I publish this post, my hubby will say, "you didn't tell me that happened!"  And he'll be right, because usually it takes me a while to process through things in my own head before I can share in whatever way. 

Mother's Day, as I've written was difficult and blessed at the same time.  I think I'm beginning to realize even more, and this probably comes from me talking a lot to someone close to me about their need to return to The Church, that I am so in love with everything about being Catholic.  I love all of it.  So because of that love, I don't feel half as crazy as I would if I wasn't fully aware of what our God is truly capable of.  If He can forgive me of my sin of abortion, He can do anything.  Who am I to say something isn't possible because I can't prove it or see it or hold it in my hand?

So, let's get to the crazy part.  Whenever I am really struggling with things, and this is more of a chicken or the egg argument - I start to wage real warfare in my head which then starts to manifest itself physically in some ways whether it be fatigue, anxiety, depression, anger, fear, etc.  I'm getting better at recognizing this and stopping it with a quick prayer, a silent cry for help, an imaginary stop sign in my head.  More and more recently though, there have been positive outside influences that make themselves known - like last weekend at Mass when I heard that little voice.  I spent a good part of the week dismissing it, and then I'm reminded that this is not the first time that kind of thing has seemed to happen to me.  I'm not claiming to the be the "Long Island Medium," or some spirit conjurer.  I'm too chicken for any of that.  But, who I am to dismiss what He might be trying to get through my thick skull in a way that He knows will work?  So, as I accept it for what I believe it truly was, it settles into my soul and gives me strength. 

My Dad loves to tell the story about the time he saw two angels in a graveyard.  Clear as day they were and he will swear to it on his life that they were real.  And as he has sometimes walked away from the Church - always to return - he never, ever, lost faith in those two angels that he saw. 

Everyone has a story to tell that's similar, of something supernatural that they can't explain.  And I suppose I'm no different and perhaps my stories are just the same as everyone elses'.  I do have some doozies that will make the hair on your neck stand up or make you laugh out loud at me.  But I don't care.  I will take them for what they are and hold on to them and allow them to do whatever good they are supposed to do. 

So I can't help to think that last evening, another reassurance came to me and truly settled my soul at a moment where my mind started just to wander a bit to the would have, could have, should have, if only... thinking.  I was waiting for a concert to start where both of my children were participating.  As I saw them up on the stage and was filled with pride at their confidence, brains, and beauty... my mind started to go down the familiar path... there should have been three.  At that very moment, I felt a touch on my shoulder.  And it was a substantial tap, almost a slight squeeze, enough to make me turn my head to see who was trying to get my attention - there was no one.

Don't you love it when that happens? 

In a matter of a few more seconds, I turned back toward the stage and felt that it was okay, completely okay... for me to sit there and relish my two beautiful girls here on earth.   I had permission to enjoy the concert without a negative thought to be found in my head at all.

So, I don't know who it was that touched me, real or imaginary.  Grace?  My guardian angel?  A child in the audience playing a prank?  I don't know.  I don't care.  I got the message loud and clear. 

It's okay.

"But if these beings guard you, they do so because they have been summoned by your prayers." ~Saint Ambrose

The Grace to Forgive...

Well, halfway through Mother's Day and I'm still here.  I keep wavering back and forth between fully engaged and fully detached without the ability to find a comfy in-between.  I don't have a lot of clear thoughts or words for today, I'm sure they will come later. But, a few things I think I've come to know for sure over the last day or two.

I think I may need some help that I don't like asking for.  I think maybe a lot of what I've been feeling the last few months may be either half or even more than half of some kind of hormonal or chemical disconnect or whirlwind inside of my body and my mind.  I know for sure that the harder I try to pray, to hope, to love, to not stifle my own laughter, the harder someone tries to keep me from doing any or all of these things.  No one talks about the "devil" anymore and it sounds silly as I even type it here, but I have to believe that not all of what goes on with me is of myself entirely, whether good or bad.  But I seem to have only two states as of late, 90% of the time I feel nothing. I'm numb, no sadness, no joy, nothing.  The other 10% - well let's just say it's not a happy place either. 

No time to think about some of this right now or for the next few days, but my focus will be on keeping the darkness at bay until I'm able to address it full on.  The nights will be long the next few days as my hubby has some traveling to do.

At this morning's Mass - the Good Father spoke of love and love and more love and it was a lovely homily and parts of it touched my heart as I sat with one child on either side of me poking at me for attention or tugging at my skirt.  After communion, I knelt there with my eyes closed for a long time and asked for help, nothing specific, just, "help."  Another Good Father reminded me last week or so that I will not, ever, be able to free myself from any of this, or do anything at all by myself.  I need Him.  So, the last few days my prayers have been simple, just, "help."

My thoughts then went to my Mom who I had just talked to on the phone before Mass.  My mind wandered as I knelt there and I thought about how to ask for the grace to forgive her for her part in my abortion for this has been a huge impasse for me.  And then I heard a little voice say to me, "but, I forgive her Mommy, so you can too."

I never know when I hear these things if they are my own thoughts or what.  I try not to think about it too much - but rather focus on what happens inside of me when I "hear" them.  The tears started to fall and I figured, okay, that I can work with.  Like the flowers I received from my two children here on earth, that I can physically plant and tend to all season, perhaps this flower of advice I received from Grace can be planted in me and take root all the same.  If I can forgive my Mom then maybe I can go down the list and forgive all the others who hurt me over the years.

Thank you Grace, for my Mother's Day gift, I just have to figure out what to do with it. 

Stepping outside of my head...

I wrote a similar post a couple of months ago called, "What Brings you Here?" - about analyzing the stats from my blog.  In all honesty, I don’t understand 90% of the reports that Google Analytics provides, but keywords I do understand.  So, I look them up and review them from time to time out of curiosity.  This activity has proven also to be a bit self-serving, because every so often, a keyword or series of keywords is listed that, for lack of a better term, just blows me away.  Some that I see listed make me sad and others give me hope.  Still others give me reason to keep writing.

With Mother’s Day approaching and stirring up a lot within me, I’ve been trying to figure out what to do to prevent a day-long pity party.  One thing I will be doing is praying outside of the abortion clinic the day before Mother’s Day.  I’ve prayed outside the clinic a few times, but the day before Mother’s Day will be most difficult.  I feel it will be a good thing for me, it gives me something reparative to do and I'm not as inclined to focus on myself when I'm there.  I’ll recite the rosary with the group that gathers there and offer my prayers for each little soul, that they find their way to Heaven and I will ask Grace to intercede and help them along.  It’s an eerie feeling outside of that place with my full knowledge of exactly what is going on inside, but the little souls lost there are much more important than my uncomfortableness.   

I’ve been struggling lately with feeling quite stuck and though I have this blog and I believe it’s reaching people, I feel like there isn’t a lot more I can do to help the pro-life “cause.”   My hope is that in the future when my children are older and can understand that I’ll be able to talk to people, even groups of people, openly about my experience and perhaps help someone that way.  I’m hoping in the meantime to maybe find some people to speak to or help that don’t compromise my anonymity, but we’ll see what happens on that front. 

In looking over the long list of keywords that people have typed into Google and then landed on my Blog, I realize that I have an opportunity to pray over my Blog, if that makes sense.  So, I invite my readers to join me, if you could, and say a few prayers with me over the next week leading up to Mother’s Day.

One of my earliest posts included an ultrasound picture of an 11 week old baby.  This “11 week old ultrasound” and different variations of those keywords has driven the most organic traffic to my blog.  So, I offer prayers for all of those people who Googled “11 week old ultrasound.”  Prayers that if they are pregnant, that they have a healthy pregnancy and joyous occasion when they hold that new baby in their arms.  I’ll offer prayers for those that may have Googled “11 week ultrasound” because they may be contemplating an abortion and now have seen what that baby looks like and they change their mind.  More prayers will be offered for those who searched for “face abnormalities ultrasound 11 weeks” and
“crappy ultrasound at 11 weeks,” that whatever the meaning behind those searches, that it did not lead to an abortion or heartache and if it did, I’ll pray that you found mercy and peace in the time since.

I’ve mentioned my screwed up anatomy before and how my two living children are quite the miracle babies and we did not realize this until afterwards when I had a hysterosalpingogram performed and there, on the screen, was the reality of what was actually going on inside me and explained so much.  I’m told this is a relatively rare condition and most of the time goes vastly undetected.  I offer prayers of thanksgiving for knowing that I do have this condition and that it is indeed hereditary so I will be able to let my girls know, when the time comes, that they too may have difficulty conceiving, but we know why. 

I offer prayers for all those who searched for information on this condition with words like, “uterine horn, unicornuate uterus, 2 horn womb,  double uterus, rudimentary uterine horn, non communicating uterine horn, banana shaped uterus, anatomy unicornuate uterus, blind uterine horn…”  I pray that you have found help for your condition and for whatever outcome you wanted to have after having found the information you sought.  I pray that those who searched for the information while trying to conceive – that they continue to have hope because I have two healthy children, conceived with no artificial assistance at all, despite this rare condition.

Finally, for all those who came across my Blog after typing the following into their search bar…

repentance prayer for abortion
abortion spoils marriages
the Miserere prayer of repentance
post abortion, get my confidence back
repentance prayer for a abortion done
stories of abortion repentance
husband cannot handle abortion
6th pregnancy contemplating abortion
I’m looking forward to the healing from the guilt of three abortions this retreat can provide
mothers day and abortion
my mom wanted me to have an abortion how do i forgive her
forgive things from the past
god help me
Eucharist as recognition of god's presence
will confession absolve me

I offer prayers, and ask my readers to do the same, for, whoever these searchers are, wherever they may be, prayers that if you have had an abortion that you find mercy, forgiveness, love, healing and happiness.  That if you are contemplating abortion, that my story will give you pause and change your mind.  That if someone is coercing you to abort, that you find the strength to resist and someone to help you do just that.  I offer prayers for those searching for forgiveness or wondering if it’s even possible - it is.  I offer prayers for those searchers who may be Catholic and have not been to Mass in a long time for whatever reason.  I pray that you return and experience the fullness of what our Church has to offer.  I pray that something spurs you to just take one step toward the journey back home – there is much mercy and forgiveness to be found and so many people willing to help if you just simply ask for it.  I offer prayers that those who are postabortive and seeking healing that they look up the information on their local Project Rachel ministry and have the courage to call.  I offer prayers for those who think they are unforgivable.  No sin is bigger than His mercy – seek him out.  Find a Priest to speak to – there are so many kind and holy priests among us, they will not turn you away, I promise. 

Lastly, a prayer for myself, that in hopefully stepping outside of myself this week, that I’m helped along in my healing journey.

The Thin Line that is Mother's Day

The last few weeks I have felt like a hamster in one of those little plastic balls that you put them in to run around the house, like I'm running here and there but not really getting anything accomplished.  I just keep bumping up against things and the impact catapults me in some other dizzying direction where I have to refocus my attention and then start running furiously again.  A poor analogy I realize, but it works because sometimes I feel like I'm trapped in a cage, a cage of secrets, shame, sorrow, confusion, depression, but I can see what's out there just beyond my reach and I am powerless over the little latch on the door that if only I could figure out to unhinge it, I would be free!  And when I'm not trapped in the cage, I'm in my little plastic ball, running "free," but still trapped and not able to engage fully with this fabulous life that He has blessed me with.  The difference between me and the hamster?  I'm not actually powerless to my confinement.  I have a way out.  The problem is feeling worthy enough to set myself free.

In all the business of the past few weeks of normal life around here, I could feel a little tugging at me starting to surface, that little voice in my head starting to take up more space.  I figured out why as I sat down to fill in the family calendar for May... it's Mother's Day.  I circle the day with a heart on the calendar and then make a note to get cards, have the kids make cards for my mom and my mother in law.  Thinking about my Mom leads to other thoughts, which lead to other thoughts.  If you are a parent you probably are familiar with the series of books, "If Give a Cat a Cupcake," "If You Give a Pig a Pancake."  It's kind of like that.  There's a book idea.  I digress.  So, it dawns on me that Mother's Day is trigger for me emotionally and as each of these dates come and go, the battle begins with how am I going to handle it now.  It was so much easier when I had this all locked deep inside me.  How can I handle it with Grace in my heart and only a few people who I can talk about her to and the secret that she remains to be?

Mother's Day is no different.  I started to think about how often I write "mother of two" or when someone asks me how many children I have and I answer, "two," but somewhere inside I'm screaming, "three! I have three, but let me explain..."  I wonder when I will be able to answer those questions or identify myself in that way without the need for explanation either because it's nobody's damn business really and because I don't feel the need to explain it in the first place.  I am a mother of three... period.  I'm not able to do it yet.  The thin line of Mother's Day is celebrating my own motherhood and accepting cards and presents and whatever concoction is presented as "breakfast" in bed with the guilt and shame and sorrow I feel over the one who isn't here to help with breakfast.  Grace would be 25 this year... I imagine breakfast would vastly improve were she here.

The thin line exists between thoughts like those above, when I'm able to think about Grace in that way and not fall to pieces... and the falling to pieces.  Mother's Day is also a reminder of what I did, what my mother did, what we can't undo.  I've been harboring a lot of anger and resentment towards my own mom lately and now I'll have to buy a mushy card to give her and the words I really want to say will never but uttered.  I have to balance the fact that in most other ways and for my entire life, my mom was a fantastic mother.  She taught me so much, she was tough but I'm the better for it.  The thing I'm most grateful for is that she taught me that I can do and be anything I set my mind to and not to take crap from anyone.  My Scotch/Irish tenacity is both genetic and very much a nurtured quality.  But, I fight the urge to flip the card over and begin to write on the back, "so, do you ever think about the abortion that I had, yeah, the one you paid for?"

The good thing is I've figured it out far enough in advance hopefully ready myself for the spiritual battle now.  In helping my one daughter with her religion homework the other day, she had a whole page on how "Jesus," just saying his name over and over can be a prayer! I always miss the obvious since I'm looking for some grand, sweeping, gesture, but thank You for hitting me over the head with the simplicity that it can be.  Just Your name.  So, I'm taking the hint that simple is better.  Simple doesn't mean shallow.  The prayers of a child are no less significant than some grandiose one chanted high on a hill in some monastery somewhere, right?  And Mary, please Mary, help.  Please help to me realize that you understand the line that I tread and help me to find peace in it.  Nothing I have ever suffered in my little life can compare to what the Mother of God endured, surely she can understand and give me hope.

So maybe, just maybe, armed with some spiritual warfare weaponry and braced for battle, I'll be able to enjoy this Mother's Day and be thankful for the blessings I've been given.  Thankful that I have two healthy children despite all the physical odds against it.  Thankful for my husband, without whom I wouldn't have them in the first place.  Thankful for my own mother who gave me lots of things to reflect on positively and I pray for the grace to understand the other choices.  And somehow, just somehow, please, I'll be able to be thankful for Grace, despite the circumstances of her every existence.  I hope to be able to think about her when someone wishes me Happy Mother's Day without the further noise, of "yeah, but you killed one."  Be with me Grace, this Mother's Day.  I hope and pray that I weather the storm and learn to hear the thunder in the distance but remain focused on the here and now and not retreat into a room of my own until the Mother's Day flowers wither and it's safe to come out again.

Soul of Christ, sanctify me
Body of Christ, save me
Blood of Christ, inebriate me
Water from Christ's side, wash me
Passion of Christ, strengthen me
O good Jesus, hear me
Within Thy wounds hide me
Suffer me not to be separated from Thee
From the malicious enemy defend me
In the hour of my death call me
And bid me come unto Thee
That I may praise Thee with Thy saints
and with Thy angels
Forever and ever
Amen 

Not an elephant, but the Monster in the Room.

Over at the Lumina blog, another entry that hits all too close to home, especially for those whose abortion histories are so intertwined with their own mothers and others who coerced, forced, and otherwise convinced them to have an abortion.  It's a fine line between worrying for their souls as well as your own and harboring  anger and resentment that eats you alive.

The Monster in the Room