We're Pregnant!

Today I have been leaping for joy! You are coming into our lives! How special it is to announce our new little Valentine on this special Valentines Day! Today, this Valentines Day, I learned that I was to be your mommy, and I began the labor of love that is this journal that will be held close to my heart as long as I live. How I wish my mom made a journal like this, for there are so many things over the years that, although more precious than gold, are still forgotten.
Brian and I have been trying to get pregnant for only two months now. Because it had taken mom six years (albeit, she was drinking lots of coffee every day, though) we tried to be realistic in that we would have the same type of trouble. Trying not to be pessimistic but at the same time trying not to get excited every month only to be let down yet again.

So began the devout prayers of my mother’s daughter, me, a devout Catholic. Each day I said the Memorare so religiously because in the words of that prayer was a promise, “Remember, Oh most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it know that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, we fly unto thee . . .” I have deep faith in this prayer. What a better way to ask for a child than to ask the holiest mother of all to intercede?

In addition, my ninety-year-old friend Sr. Mary Matthew from Sacred Heart Academy told me a heartwarming story last year about her own mom . . . who prayed and prayed to St. Gerard for a girl in a family of all boys. Sure enough, Sr. Mary Matthew came along! So, she sent me some information and I prayed the special prayer for St. Gerard to “take my fervent prayer to the creator of all life.” Well, he did, Lord bless him, and I REALLY want to name this child with the middle name of Gerard . . . as long as Brian changes his mind. (He thinks the name sounds too French.)

And, of course, there’s my precious St. Therese, the little flower who has sent me flowers in answer to this prayer with me wondering on the other hand when, in which month exactly, this prayer would be answered. It seemed all of heaven was interceeding for me: Grandma Staggers, Grandma Henel, Ree, . . . and of course my heaven on earth: my mom, whose prayers I suspect shoot up to heaven so fast that God stops what he’s doing and listens.
So a few days ago, Brian and I received a suspicious package in the mail declaring “Live Plants! Keep Upright!” We were expecting a phone book, so this large box was a surprise. Upon opening it, we found the most beautiful rose plant we had ever seen with three roses already blooming and four more about to open. I found it peculiar that the roses were so very happy being kept up tight in a box, yet there they sat smiling. An answer from a prayer from Mom and St. Therese. . . . but I must not have been ready or confident enough in faith to fully understand the answer those few days ago.

As the roses continued to bloom, I had begun to feel a bit . . . “different.” I felt a bit flighty sometimes. I was incredibly thirsty quite a bit, in fact, once I felt faint for lack of water . . . that there was no reason for me to really need at that moment. My abdomen also felt strange. I remember cleaning the tub a few days ago, leaning far over my abdomen, and felt for the first time that it didn’t feel like me. “Have I gained more weight?” I thought, exasperated. Then there was the strange sensation of one big cramp-like sensation about once a day. I was used to getting cramps this time of month. My cycles were going 28 days, 31 days, 28 days, 31 days . . . and today was the 31st day: Valentines Day. I couldn’t seem to tell whether what I was feeling was cramps or intestinal trouble or what. I was quite a bit burpy. I kept feeling around my abdomen trying to distinguish what I really thought were cramps. Finally, I decided that my intestines were in a strange sort of uproar where they weren’t really distressed, but something different was going on.

Still, I refused to see the truth for fear of being wrong, until I learned the most definite sign yet.
Yesterday at daily mass I learned that Maureen Woodstrom had died. I had seen her a few times and, although she was never really nice to me, I knew that she was a special lady . . . and I had overheard that she had cancer. Ironically, she seemed bright eyed and ready to help when she came to RCIA (which I was currently helping with also) and to daily mass. Then one day she stopped coming, and Father Phil implored us to please pray for her, that Maureen had been instrumental to his early priesthood. I began praying for this woman, this pillar of the Catholic Faith that I didn’t know. And when I learned of her death, that this pillar of our faith had passed into Jesus’ arms, I just knew . . . and I finally allowed myself to suspect that “when the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.” That somehow this wonderful Catholic lady had been taken to Jesus’ arms as you have chosen to enter ours in Jesus’ sight. And for that reason, little sweet one, I think that you are a girl.

So, last night I woke up twice under the sheer possibility that there was a baby sent to us from our Lord. And I came home from daily mass this morning in the midst of Lent, saying the Sorrowful Mysteries instead of the Joyous against my better judgement. (I had wanted to say the Joyous mysteries until we got pregnant because of Mary’s wondrous Annunciation.) In a trance, I walked in the door and put on my special music that I sang in the Newman Club at college, specifically “Unto the House of the Lord.” I went into the bathroom and took the test. I watched the line of water move slowly to the right . . . with no line in the first window. So I left the bathroom and sang. I sang the whole first song of the tape in praise to God as I tried to relax. As the song ended and I rewound it, I pressed play for a second time and entered the bathroom to find a distinct two lines in the windows!!! Our Lord had blessed us with you, sweetheart!

I ran around the apartment trying to sing the song, but I sounded more like I was under water. I set a timer on the camera and took a picture of myself at that moment and tears streaming down my face I rushed back to church to fulfill the promise I had made to God, “If you have blessed us with child, I will return today and say those Joyful Mysteries!” I sat there, the only person in church, clutching the pregnancy test that proved the Lord had blessed us with you and said those Joyful Mysteries as best I could, for my mind was racing with new joys. And, at the end, I walked right up to the altar, put my hand where you were growing inside me and said, “My Lord Jesus Christ, I offer this child up to you.”
Now to tell your dad!

Thank goodness I had so many things to do today, or I wouldn’t have been able to make it until Brian came home. Thank goodness he simply sent me a little Star Wars: Episode II Valentine via e-mail, and I responded with a quick love note with little substance on purpose, hoping he didn’t suspect anything. He didn’t. (I mean, I had already told him I felt cramps as usual, so he probably put the whole possibility out of his mind. I sincerely didn’t want to ruin the surprise or deprive myself of seeing his reaction. So, before I left the house to tutor my fourth graders, I wrote a special poem for Brian: one that I had begun months before, but I changed to include the appropriate Valentine theme:

Our Little Valentine

Our early summer burns within
As winter swirls outside,
And how we’ve longed for parenthood
As selflessness abides.

And what a blessed time of year,
This holy feast of Love.
St. Valentine, his soul for Christ,
Martyred, looks from above.

Heaven has heard so many prayers,
They could no more deny.
So, on this very day next year
We’ll have our Valentine.

It makes me smile a secret smile,
Our Valentine to be, . . .
A Child is Born, a Mother’s Heart,
A Father’s Legacy.

I also had a desire to frame it and give it to Brian as a Valentine card (along with the most recent Star Wars book he wanted). So here I was, rushing around Wal Mart trying to find the perfect Valentine frame, which I finally found. I rushed home, printed out the poem and framed it surrounded by a few of St. Therese’s special petals that were one of the first signs of this precious love baby.

Brian came home as usual, except today he was particularly interested in one piece of mail that revealed a maturing three thousand dollar CD. I could hardly contain myself at this point, saying periodically, “Can you open your Valentine present now?” and “How about now?” He was confused to see two gifts because he was only expecting the Star Wars book. I told him, “The second gift beats the heck out of the first one.” That confused him even more. He told me later that he thought it was some cool Star Wars thing at first, but it turned out to be something so much better. . . .

Finally, he opened the framed poem. I was determined not to take my eyes off of his face. He read the title, and his eyes immediately skipped to the bottom, that cheater! : ) I quickly said, “Read it in order, Brian!” He did, but he had already figured it out. He turned to be and said, “Lovie! Are you pregnant?!?” I nodded, and we kissed long and soft.

Now to tell your grandparents!

After we had finished our quiet celebration together, we picked up the phone and called my parents. Mom literally squealed with delight over and over again, . . . exactly the special reaction that I expected from my special mom. And Dad could only say, “This is a great day. . . . This is a great day. . . . This is a great day!” The biggest difference between my parents and Brian’s was that my parents couldn’t wait for this to happen and had no aversion to becoming grandparents, but I heard Brian’s dad mumbling just a few months ago, “I’m just not ready to become a grandfather, yet.” I told him to get ready. Brian’s parents to our great joy reacted in similar jubilation, and we were surprised to find out that their best friends were going to become grandparents in the same month! (I’m sure that helped cushion the blow.)