Friday Quick Takes: Sacred Music Edition

In this edition of Friday Quick Takes, I'm presenting you with the best versions I can find of a few of my favorite sacred music selections. I offer these in thanksgiving for our recent good news, with the hope that they will provide an avenue through which you can pray and praise Him. Thank you, Jen at Conversion Diary, for the chance to share these with a wider audience.

I love sacred choral music, as you probably can tell from some of my previous posts. I think sacred music is one of the best ways to pray. In college, I was in three choirs, and much of this music comes from those days. I was blessed to go to a school that celebrated sacred music, and I always felt the prayer of the music so strongly when we performed. 

Anywho, without further ado, I give you seven of my favorites. *Note: I did not choose these videos for their video content. I chose them based on the quality of the music in them only.

1. Hear My Prayer O Lord: Henry Purcell
Hear my prayer, O Lord, and let my crying come unto thee.

2. Ave Verum Corpus: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Ave, verum corpus             

natum de Maria Virgine,            

Vere passum immolatum

in Cruce pro homine,

Cujus latus perforatum

unda fluxit et sanguine,

Esto nobis praegustatum

in mortis examine.

Hail, true body

born of the Virgin Mary,

Who truly suffered, sacrificed

on the Cross for man,

Whose pierced side overflowed

with water and blood,

Be for us a foretaste

in the test of death.

3. Sicut Cervus: Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina

Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum, ita desiderat anima mea ad te, Deus.

As the hart longs for running water, so longs my heart for you, O God.

4. Crucifixus: Antonio Lotti

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato; passus et sepultus est.

He was crucified for us also, under Pontius Pilate; he suffered and was buried.

5. There is no Rose of Such Virtue: Olde English Traditional Carol (circa 1420)

There is no rose of such virtue, as is the rose that bare Jesu.

Alleluia.

For in this rose contained was heaven and earth in little space.

Res miranda.

By that rose we may well see that He is God in persons three.

Pari forma.

The angels sungen the shepherds to: Gloria in excelsis Deo.

Gaudeamus.

Leave we all this worldly mirth and follow we this joyful birth.

Transeamus.

Alleluia, res miranda. Pares forma, gaudeamus, transeamus.

6. O Vos Omnes: Pablo Casals

O vos omnes, o vos omnes qui transitis per viam

attendite, attendite, attendite et videte:

si est dolor sicut dolor meus;

o vos omnes, o vos omnes qui transitis per viam.

Oh all ye who pass by the way,

attend and see 

if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow.

7. The Lord is My Shepherd: Psalm 23 (Arranged by John Rutter)

The Lord is my shepherd; therefore I shall lack nothing.

He shall lead me in a green pasture, and lead me forth beside the waters of comfort.

He shall convert my soul and lead me forth in the paths of righteousness for His Name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.

For Thou art with me; my rod and my staff, comfort me!

Thou shalt prepare a table for me against them that trouble me.

Thou hast anointed my head with oil, and my cup shall be full.

But thy loving kindness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Lift Thine Eyes

Sometimes, I can only express my gratitude with song.

Lift thine eyes, o lift thine eyes to the mountains

whence cometh help.

Thy help cometh from the Lord,

the maker of heaven and earth.

He hath said, "thy foot shall not be moved,

thy keeper will never slumber."

***

The Lord has seen me through thus far; we have a strong heartbeat of 160 bpm! The nurse practitioner said that of all the things she checks for, each one was perfect. She said that this ultrasound went as well as it could possibly go, and our chances of miscarrying again are down 70%. She gave us a picture of our new little one, and he or she looks exactly like the pictures in the textbook. 

I'm so overwhelmed with relief and gratitude. 

Thank you, thank you for all your prayers and intercessions. What power they hold! 

Anticipation

My heart is a-flutter with anticipation. And not the peaceful kind either.

Tomorrow is our viability ultrasound, the one where we will either see this baby's heart beating, or we won't.

I feel that we won't ever be out of the woods unless this baby is born alive and placed in my arms. But then, we're never really out of the woods, are we? We do not know the day, nor the hour, for us or for any of our children. I know in my heart that this is why I am so relieved to know Jesus, to know His victory over death. Because if I didn't, boy this life--especially a life with children--would be so hopeless.

Yet, even though I know this, and trust it, I am still anxious for what is to come tomorrow.

I have striven, over the course of my writings here, to align my will with God's, to trust His will, and to abandon myself to it. But I'll still pray that my baby will live. I pray that God's will be done unto me; but I also pray that I will see a heartbeat. Is that putting a condition on my prayer? Is that wrong? I'm still trying to figure that out.

In any case, it is humbling to ask this, but will you please pray for me and my husband, and mostly for this baby? I need your prayers so badly.

***

Lord, you know my heart; You know I am anxious. Please, Lord, grant me your peace. I pray that Your will be done, and that whatever the outcome, You will give me the grace to appreciate the time I have had with this baby, and the maternal heart You've given me. I pray, Lord, if it is Your will, please let this baby live and be born healthy and alive. I know this is a familiar prayer to You, from me. I ask it because I believe in You, and I trust in you.

Little Romeo Gerard, please intercede for your little brother or sister!
St. Frances de Sales, on whose feast day this ultrasound falls, and patron of writers, pray for us!
Saints Gerard and Gianna, pray for us!
Mary, my mother, I beg you to intercede for this little baby!

Give Me Jesus

My friend, H, had her baby boy sometime in the last 24 hours. I found out on fac.ebook.

H's baby was due at the same time Romeo Gerard would have been born. I love her dearly, and I'm thankful the birth went (apparently) smoothly.

I just don't know what to feel. I feel sad; I miss RG. I wish he were being born. I feel blessed; my womb is not empty. I feel joyful; her baby is safe, he is born, and I'm sure he's just darling. I feel afraid; please, God, let this new baby live. I don't know if I can do it again. I feel guilty; I don't want the birth of her baby to be clouded by my sadness. I feel embarrassed; I'm crying at work and I want to go home. I feel emotionally exhausted and confused.

Right now, I just need the Lord. I need Him to walk with me, and help me to get through this day.
Give me Jesus.

I just want to say one thing:

I was reading around the blogs I usually follow, and I came upon an "about me" page by a blogger which spoke beautifully of openness to life and the beauty of the Church's teaching. It was a beautiful witness, and I love this woman's blog. But, I'm about to complain a minute, so that is why I'm not linking up to her blog here. The point is, this page, this wonderful witness, could have been written by any one of a number of faithful Catholic women out there who blog about their large families. I love to read these blogs about large families, and I love seeing pictures that prove the blogger and her husband's openness to life.

However, at the bottom of this blogger's page, a person commented that he was having a hard time convincing his wife as to why a family of "3 is not just as good as a family of 8." It is with this mentality that I take full issue. In fact, a family of three is just as good as a family of eight, if that family is open to life, and if that number of children is the number God gave them.

Now, I know this statement was written innocently enough, and people who say these things are really just trying to convey how wonderful they think big families are--which is great! Nevertheless, this kind of thinking is not only insensitive to those struggling to grow their families, but it is also just not true.

I admit, I come from a defensive standpoint, because I remember all too vividly the moments when I thought I would only have one living child. And I still live that fear. I still fear that I will not have as many children as I would love to have, and that we'll never be able to afford adoption (if I could get my husband on board). And I admit that I am part of a parish and broader community in which it is common to have large families (read: there are many Mormon families here, and the Catholic families at my parish are VERY open to life). It is not uncommon to see families with six children. One family at my parish has ten. If you have less than three children here, you actually do not fit in. This, of course, is exceedingly wonderful, and I am not bitter about it, but I have certainly struggled to find peace and acceptance in this community, having so few children.

Yet this is exactly the problem. My family, which only--at the present moment--includes one living child looks very small compared to families of eight and twelve. Some people in our parish may even think we are contracepting. Well, I don't really care about what they think of me, so much as what they think of my family.

You see, women with small families that are not by choice do not fit in to very many social groups. I don't fit in with secular society (which would think my single child was just great!) because I don't want to, and that isn't who I am. I don't fit in with the women who have eight children because (understandably) their lives are just so different from mine, and sometimes (just being real here) it's because they don't see me as an equal. I don't fit in with the newlyweds who don't have any children for obvious reasons. (Maybe I'm just complaining that I don't have any friends!)

Regardless of the accompanying circumstances and emotional accoutrements, what I need to express is that my family has just as much worth as any family, no matter how large. There, I said it. And if you know me, and understand what I've been through, then you'd know I have a family of five!

I love a large family. I want to be the matriarch of one. But my little family is enough for God. After all, He made it this way.

Shrine of the Holy Innocents: a Beautiful Ministry for Grieving Parents of the Unborn

I just received this from Fr. Thomas Kallumady, director of the Shrine of the Holy Innocents ministry at The Church of the Holy Innocents in New York city.

If you have experienced a pregnancy loss at any stage, you can have your child's name inscribed in their book of life, and you can receive a certificate of life like the one I received. I was so touched to receive Fr. Thomas's personal email to me last week which was utterly sensitive and beautiful.
Thank you, Lord, for such a ministry!

Hold These Things in Your Heart

"But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart." Luke 2: 19

I have told very few people in real life that I am pregnant. I haven't told my boss. I haven't told my dearest friends, except for one. I haven't told my bible study group, even though I could use their prayers. I haven't told Father G.

I have felt the strong inclination to hold this baby in my heart, at least for a while longer. However, I'm having trouble understanding my own feelings about this.

"And when you pray, you are not to be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on the street corners so that they may be seen by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. But you, when you pray, go into your inner room, close your door, and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you." Mathew 6: 5-6

I have always had an extremely adverse reaction to postings on face.book of people's ultrasound pictures and pregnancy announcements. Even before miscarriage. Even before I ever fathomed that I could have trouble conceiving and carrying a child to term.

I always told myself that it was because those pictures would never go away--they would now be owned by the internet, or because the child in question didn't have the choice to put those pictures out there, or because it was tacky.

But now I realize, it wasn't because of those things, really. It was because of the connected themes in the two passages above.

Our culture is so confused; it treats children like accomplishments--commodified accomplishments. (It treats marriage this way too). Married? check. House? check. Kids (ahem, one boy and one girl only)? check. Ok. life is all checked off; good for me! Look what I've accomplished!

I'm not saying that it is not ok to be proud of your children and that one ought not share them with the world. Especially as little witnesses of the gift and blessing of them. And yes, I do post pictures of little A on faceb.ook. I don't say these things because I think I am perfect. Or because I forbid posting pictures online. There will be a time that I proclaim loudly the joy of this new baby. But I am sure you have felt the sticky self-involvement that goes with some pregnancy announcements. And the lack of "praise God!" in them. I say these things as a defense really, an explanation as to why I do not yet shout this good news from the roof tops.

The thing is, children--if they are accomplishments at all--are not our accomplishments. We co-create them with God, we love them into existence, but not on our own. And we know (many of us all too painfully) that if God didn't breathe His love into him or her, no amount of human love would create a child.

All this is to say that just because I haven't told anyone about this baby doesn't mean I am not excited about him or her. Of course, part of me will always be afraid this baby will die. But I do not keep the news secret for fear that I would have to explain another miscarriage to those who know. On the contrary, I would want people to know I was pregnant if this baby doesn't survive. I want him or her to be recognized as a person.

Rather, I hold this baby in my heart, for now, as a means of protection, and as a means of prayer. It's just that I think the things we hold most dearly (the awe of shepherds at the sight of the infant Jesus, the intimate relationship and faith we have in God, my little tiny baby--so fragile) ought not be projected as an extension of our own selves, but as that which God created. Perhaps they ought not be flaunted in public, but celebrated quietly and piously in the home.

"For you formed my inward parts;
You wove me in my mother's womb.
I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Wonderful are your works,
And my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes have seen my unformed substance;
And in your book were all written
The days that You ordained for me,
When as yet there was not one of them."  Psalm 139: 13-16

There were times when Mary might have proclaimed loudly and publicly that her son was the Messiah, that she had bore Him and raised Him, that she was having a baby (!). And indeed, she joyfully proclaimed her pregnancy to Elizabeth, one who would understand the sacredness of such a revelation. She proclaimed God's Magnificence (the Magnificat) and then, when he was born and when he was found in the temple, she "treasured all these things, and pondered them in her heart."

***

Lord, you have designed this pregnancy in such a way that I could not take it for granted. You have made it so that I recognize Your hand in this; Glory be to You. Please protect my baby from the hands of death, that he or she may glorify Your Name on earth.

Mary, mother of God, and my mother, pray for me, that this pregnancy, this child, and all my children will glorify the Lord.

***

The following are some posts which I found helpful in formulating my thoughts for today, and I think they are worth sharing:
Wait, Do You Only Have Two Kids? by Lisa Cotter, and
Where's da Proof? by Ecce Fiat

Viability Ultrasound

I have a "viability ultrasound" on the 24th.

Just before falling asleep the other night, I asked my husband, R, if he would go with me. I need him there. No matter which way it goes. He said he will definitely get the time off of work to go with me, and he sensed my anxiety over it, knowing that this was the same kind of appointment we had when we found out that RG had died. I am finally finding out how nervous he is about this too. It is comforting to me to know he is nervous because I have never known how RG's death really affected my husband. He is very quiet with death.

We talked at length about our anxiety and our fear over this upcoming appointment. I said, "I want to get attached to this baby, but I'm afraid to."

R said, "You already are, you are already attached. How could you not be?" Then he held my hand and said "You know, if we spend all this time worrying and not letting ourselves bond with the baby, and we get to the appointment and find out that he is dead, we will feel worse than if we had allowed ourselves to love him and become attached."

He is so right.

And if healing is about trusting in the Lord, and if it's about Hope, and if it's about small acts of faith, then I have to let myself love this baby without fear.

After that conversation, I went out and bought some maternity jeans.

On Suffering

We spent Saturday at the doctor's with little A. Turns out, she has RSV. And, because of her history with RSV and pneumonia (she was hospitalized for three days last year due to a bout with these two illnesses), we and her doctor wanted to be very cautious. Poor A had to spend the day in the ER getting chest X-Rays and blood draws.

The blood draw was the worst because I had to hold her down. The last time she needed  a blood draw, I cried. She was so little and innocent, and it was physically painful for me to watch, let alone hold her down. This time, I didn't cry, but I held her so tight, it probably scared her more than the needle itself. I realized as I was trying to let her go afterward that I was holding her with so much tension, you would have thought I was the one getting blood taken.

And then, I thought, maybe this is what our Father in Heaven feels like when we suffer?

I really don't like to speculate on what God feels or does, because it feels like I am constructing Him in a very limited way. However, I think this particular meditation helps me to remember that when He allows suffering, it isn't because He is relishing in it. And it isn't that He necessarily wills our suffering, but that, as I did with little A, He hopes we will become better for it. A needed the blood test to make sure she didn't have bacteria in her blood--to keep her healthy. We sometimes need to suffer, even innocently, in order to restore or purify our relationship, our faith, in God.

Maybe, when RG died, the Lord just wanted to scoop me up and hold me, just as I wanted to hold little A until she stopped crying. And maybe, in His Wisdom, he knew I would be ok in time, just as I knew little A would be ok in a few days.

In the beginning, we weren't created to suffer; the Lord did not originally intend that we should feel pain in our hearts or bodies, and He didn't intend death. Thus, it is only due to Satan and sin that we feel these things and do these things. It is only due to Satan that we would need to be purified or to restore our faith in God's promises in the first place. Sometimes we suffer innocently; that is, we haven't personally sinned to cause our own suffering; innocent suffering can be due to the sins of others, or at the hands of death. However, in all cases, suffering comes through sin (Satan) or through death (original sin....still Satan).

Consequently, each time we suffer, whether innocently or not, we are presented with an opportunity to grow closer to the Lord. It is always an opportunity to reject the evil that is the root cause of suffering.

Moreover, it is an opportunity to continually, in each moment, reject the Evil One, whose temptations are so great during times of suffering. Satan knows when we are hurting, and uses those times of vulnerability to tell us the same lie he told Adam and Eve: "God does not really love you, and you can't really trust Him."

Just look at Job. In the book of Job, we are allowed such insights into God's ways of interacting with us and His ways of loving us. Job also teaches us to remember the faithfulness of God, and how much He entrusts to the righteous. As far as I'm concerned, the book of Job is a testament to God's love for us in the face of the devil's lies.

And so, even in times of fear, such as now, I must trust in the Lord. Writing it here helps me to make it true. I must trust in His compassion, in His Love for me; I must trust that the remedy for suffering and fear is closeness with Him.

Then Job answered the Lord and said:

I know that you can do all things,
     and that no purpose of yours can be hindered.
I have dealt with great things that I do not understand;
     things too wonderful for me, which I cannot know.
I had heard of you by word of mouth,
     but now my eye has seen you.
Therefore I disown what I have said,
    and repent in dust and ashes.

Quick Takes: the minutia of early pregnancy edition

I write these quick takes, with thanks and prayers for Jen, and in the spirit of hopefulness and joy in this pregnancy. Praise God for His provision. Today, I offer up my anxiety for Jen and her baby.

1. Little A is sick. :( Fever since Wednesday night. Luckily I work from home on Thursdays and Fridays so she's just hanging out with me with nary a bump in our routine. I feel terrible for her though. It's hard to look at the joy in your life and see her kind of joy-less.

2. On the upside, A still had the energy/humor to remark that Tigger says "whoo hoo hoo hoooo!" while watching the Winnie the Pooh movie.

3. Went to see Marybeth at St. Catherine's Pregnancy Resource Center yesterday, and she did an ultrasound for me. I was so happy that she was willing to do this--she actually offered to--because it is sooner than my doctor was willing to do it. The gestational sac is measuring at three weeks which is perfectly consistent with my chart, so while we have to wait to see a heartbeat (hopefully), at least we know where we are and where we should be.

4. She also advised me to take a B complex vitamin with my prenatal; let's just say my life is a little more neon because of it. :)

5. When we did the ultrasound, Marybeth pointed out my blood vessels twitching, which is an indicator of good circulation, and she said my womb looked like a beautiful environment for this baby. Praise God!

6. I am feeling very rare morning sickness, which is the same as it was when I was pregnant with A and RG. Thank you, Lord, for sparing me this small suffering.

7. This prayer, published by the USCCB  has been helpful so far.

Baby Romeo

Oh, baby boy.

I think of you so often now. I think of you often, everyday. But now that we have another little soul to follow your own life, I think of you, my son.

This baby in my womb? Please, baby boy, please pray for him or her. Please beg the Lord, in whose arms you play and laugh, to let this baby be born alive. I already love this baby as much as I love you and your sister.

I think of you, and I am sorry. I am sorry because, very often, when I think of you my mind goes to places that are not pleasant. Most of the time, I see you, but not in the way I want to. Not in the way I wanted to remember you. And most of the time, when I think of you, I feel guilty. And I remember the insensitive things people said (still say) to me. Because I can't remember you in any tangible sense as a boy, as a snuggly infant, as a happy memory at all.

Writing this, I feel so guilty.

I remember you as a little bitty body. As a horrible whooshing sensation, as tears, as anguish, as tiny, and dead. I remember that they covered you up too fast with the burial dirt and I wanted to dig up the dirt and take you out of that box and put you back where you belonged, in my womb. And I remember realizing those thoughts racing through my mind in rewind fashion, faster than I could process or control them, and thinking to myself, "you're crazy. Stop it, crazy."

But I still feel crazy. Because in order to force these things out of my mind when I think of you, I have to put something there that never actually existed, like the image I have of you as an 18 month old toddler, with curly red hair and blue eyes like your father's. Or, I have to think of things that are real, but that I cannot see; I have to imagine you as a perfect soul in heaven adoring the Lord in His Glory and praising His name with your every little breath and motion.

It is, perhaps, part of this cross; the fact that I must wait to see you in Heaven, the Good Lord willing. That I must trust that the Lord is holding you, and holding me. That not having any good memories of you is ok. That memories are not the important part, but the gift, the giving you up, is.

It's just that I don't know if I can take any more of feeling crazy. So, baby boy, please pray. Please ask the Lord to spare me the feeling of crazy. Please ask Him to protect your little brother or sister. Please ask St. Michael the Archangel to defend me against the devil, who is desperately trying to get his hands on this baby and on your mamma.

On Fear and Hope

As another blogger puts so well in a recent post, "I didn't know how...to get rid of the fear."

When I was first going through the horror of losing RG, I thought to myself, "if this ever happens again, I will go completely insane. I will not be able to handle it." And now, now that I face the real possibility that this baby could also die, I feel....well, actually sort of blank. I feel a blankness in the face of that thought because I cannot let myself go there. Every time my heart starts down that road, it stops, and turns around.

I think the reason it turns around is that, while I have fear that this baby will die, fear that I will bury two babies in six months, I do not--at least right now--fear the Will of God.

If you look back in the archives of this blog, you'll likely find traces, if not blatant statements, questioning God's Will and fearing that He is not here with me. I had so much fear of what He had planned for me because my heart was so broken when Romeo Gerard died, so so broken. And though, somewhere, I knew that fear was not from God, I had allowed the devil to make me afraid. Afraid of God, and afraid of His gifts.  Afraid of abandonment, afraid of His plans for me. So afraid.

But the Lord comforted me; He let me know that RG's death was for my salvation. And everything in His Will is for my salvation. And he assured me that fear does not come from Him; it is of the Evil One because it's intent and result is to separate me from the Lord.

Herein lies Hope. The hope of the resurrection, and of our salvation. And the virtue of hope, which is the "sure and steadfast anchor of the soul" and the source of our rejoicing: "Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation." (Catechism, P. 1820). Hope that the Lord knows what is best for me in this world, and provides it--even if painful--in order to get me to the next world.

Now, we're not out of the woods yet. We won't be, as far as I'm concerned, until this baby is in my arms, alive and well. And it's not that I don't have a constant anxiety about whether my baby's heart is beating. Our first ultrasound is going to send me to the top of the nervous chart. If I weren't pregnant, you'd have to put me on a sedative. And, it is a possibility that God wills more sorrow in order for my salvation.

But hope prevents me from despairing now. Because He has seen fit for me to become pregnant. And so, today I am pregnant and I love my baby. Praise God; He hath done great things for me.

After announcing the pregnancy to my parents, my dad and I spoke about the fear. My dad said, "None of this belongs to Satan. NONE of it. Do not let him steal your joy, your anticipation, your trust in the Lord. Even your pain does not belong to him." And he is right. Even the negative that could come out of this, whether there might be complications, or if the baby is unhealthy, or even if he or she dies, these things are not for Satan. They are not his victories.

I know I'm putting on a brave face now. And all of this will be so difficult to look at if things turn for the worse. But a brave soul is a hopeful one.

***

Lord, please protect the child in my womb. Please allow him or her to be healthy and alive. I beg you to let him or her live to glorify You on earth. Above all, oh Lord, let Your will become my hope.
Lord, I accept ALL things; good or bad, bitter or sweet, joys or sorrows, and for all these things I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
St. Gerard, pray for us. St. Gianna, pray for us. Blessed Zelie, mother of the Little Flower, pray for us.

Volta Indeed: A Hopefully Sensitive Announcement

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about Volta. I wrote about a sudden moment in which I really felt the Christ's Peace and consolation come into my heart.

That very day was the day we conceived the child now in my womb.

I have waited to make this announcement because with the positive indicator on the HPT came a sense of overwhelming, well, everything. I literally fell to my knees, realizing I had read a positive test, and prayed with words from the Magnificat; I had taken the test on the morning of New Year's Day, the Solemnity of Mary the mother of God.

I have been hesitant to announce this at all, here on my blog, because I know my wait has been so much shorter than many of yours. And I know, though I don't know very many of you, that this announcement will feel painful, especially because I had been wondering if we would be dealing with secondary infertility, and now here I am, having only waited and prayed for seven months, while many of you have dealt with this for years. I feel incredibly guilty for that.

And I feel incredible fear.

I know how many of you have had multiple miscarriages and long long periods of IF, and failed adoptions; the pain of your stories has been my comfort, your strength in carrying on has been my inspiration, and my prayers have been and still are with you. The pain of my own struggle is still very heavy.

I have so much conflict in my heart when I think about this pregnancy.

And that is why I decided to go ahead and announce it, hopefully sensitively, because whether anyone reads this blog or not, I have to be able to write through my fear and hope and anxiety and joy.
A positive pregnancy test after miscarriage is one of the scariest things I can consider; I am so afraid this baby will die too. (The doctor has already prescribed me a progesterone supplement because my levels are low--anyone have experience with this?)

But I know that fear is not from God, and whether this baby lives or dies, He will make it for my salvation.

Today I am pregnant, and I love my baby. God will see us through. I do, for the first time in a long time trust in that Truth, and I am going to cling to Him, the one True Good.

Magnificat: The Solemnity of Mary Mother of God

My soul magnifies the Lord
And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior;
Because he has regarded the lowliness of His handmaid;
For behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed;
Because He Who is Mighty has done great things for me,
and holy is His name;
And His mercy is from generation to generation
on those who fear him.
He has shown might with His arm,
He has scattered the proud in the conceit of their heart.
He has put down the mighty from their thrones,
and has exalted the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich He has sent away empty.
He has given help to Israel, his servant, mindful of His mercy
Even as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his posterity forever.

This day, I pray in praise and worship, Oh my God. He hath done great things for me.