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A Mary Moment Monday post

I was pregnant to bursting and worried.

In fact, I was battling worry in a way I can’t really express without tears in my eyes.

The midwife wanted another ultrasound. There hadn’t been movement in a while and she just wanted to make sure.

We were scared. My husband’s been through this before. We carry the weight of a small white casket very close to our hearts.

But, oh, we did not want another one. No. No. NO!

So we went, early afternoon in the hazy, snowy New Year’s Eve afternoon, a young couple pregnant with their first baby, and had the ultrasound.

The ultrasound doctor said something that seemed strange to us at the time.

“Get a lot of rest,” he said. Things were fine, as far as he could tell.

I went home and took a nap on the couch, curled beneath a pile of blankets. Bob went outside and chopped wood, working himself into a sweat that burned through the worry. I think his prayer was purely physical.

When I woke, we decided to go out to eat.

I was battling weepiness. My baby! My baby! My baby!

While we were at Max and Erma’s, eating and trying to be normal, out of nowhere a small girl, probably around three, ran over to us. She looked right at my husband and smiled.

I couldn’t help it. I saw it as a sign.

I thanked my guardian angel, Mama Mary, and God himself. And I did my best to let go of the worry.

We went to the special midnight Mass our parish had, and I lectored. I remember wearing my silky bright red shirt and hugging a number of people. It felt magical, intense, and exhausting.

The next thing I remember from that night eight years ago was around 3 a.m., when I got up to go to the bathroom.

“Bob!” I said as I got back in bed. He didn’t quite sit up, but he was awake.

“I think my water broke!”

Then ensued the hilarity of us not realizing our daughter’s head was blocking the flow, us not taking the contractions seriously (they weren’t regular! we couldn’t chart them in a perfect line!), and us barely getting to the hospital before she made her grand appearance.

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On January 1, feast of Mary, Mother of God, our girl was born. She made her entrance quickly, wasting no time and getting it done.

She made us family in a way we weren’t before.

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And she makes us smile all the time.

Tonight, we’ll go out to Max and Erma’s, just like we do every year. We’ll take her with us and talk about how we sat there eight years ago, worried and nervous and suddenly, not.

We’ll look for other little girls and we’ll keep busy with the other kids and we’ll smile over the table at each other.

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Eight years of blessings and challenges and all sorts of joy, all under the mantle of Mama Mary. It’s a day where I’ll have tears in my eyes, because I can’t help it, and when we’ll go to Mass, and we’ll eat pork and cake and drink champagne.

I’ll say a few prayers, because I’ll be remembering eight years ago and marveling at the joy that’s filled our life in that stretch of time.

 

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  • http://motherofnine9.blogspot.ca/ Melanie Jean Juneau

    well written- I just wrote a post about fighting for the lives of the unborn in a neonatal unit—nothing more terrifying

  • Nancy Ward

    Thank you, Sarah, for a heart lifting story every mother can relate to!
    Blessings

  • Kerri B.

    Happy Birthday to your daughter!

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sarahreinhard

sarahreinhard

Catholic convert/wife/mom/reader/writer enjoying the idiosyncrasies of life on a farm with critters and kids

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