Tuesday, September 15, 2009


Today, I am feeling grateful. Grateful for my wonderful husband, who smiles and asks me about my day when he walks in the door. Grateful for Christopher and Maria, who are full of life, giggles, and curiosity, and healthy at the moment :) Grateful for our little saint in heaven, Lucy Rose, whose intercession we ask for every day in our family prayers, and whose intercession I evoke very often for the intentions of those who I know especially need it. Grateful for friends who have offered to help my pregnant self if I ever need it, and for my great, super-helpful in-laws who are coming into town this afternoon for a visit and to help me take care of Maria.

I am in a lot of pain today - I can hardly sit or stand up, bend over or lean forward, without wincing in pain, and I must admit that I'm a bit anxious about what this means for the remaining 23 weeks of this pregnancy. But in this moment, I am just feeling very grateful for my many blessings.

Isn't it funny how sometimes, in the midst of pain (be it physical or emotional), we can be so acutely aware of the many gifts in our lives? It's a gift of our faith, I believe, and I remember being struck by it at other painful times in my life: when our daughter, Lucy Rose, was diagnosed with a fatal birth defect, after her birth and death when I missed her so much that it hurt, when our family moved and it was so very difficult to say those good-byes. During these times and others, I am aware of both the great suffering and the great joy that often exist most vividly when they exist together.

I'm sorry to be so melodramatic on this Tuesday afternoon - you can blame it on the pregnancy hormones :) - but I appreciate that here at Building Cathedrals, we can share little pieces of our experiences in this way. This morning, I was moved to pray the Memorarae, a beautiful Marian prayer. Perhaps you will feel moved to do the same:

Remember, O Most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession, was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence I fly unto thee, O Virgin of Virgins, my Mother. To you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. O Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen.


AWOL Mommy said...

Friend, you inspire.

Thank you for your candor - I know that the easing of your pain is going high on all your loved ones' prayer intention list.

Juris Mater said...

Kat, your words are beautiful and very comforting... I usually am so afraid of suffering, but I take SUCH comfort in this wise reminder of how joy and sorrow exist most vividly when they exist together. You and the others who have suffered through the loss of children especially remind me of this... you've all said this very thing in one form or another. What a source of courage for the future. The Christian life is THE Great Adventure.

Prayers for your back pain, Kat. I'm so sorry it's getting worse.

Mary Alice said...

I have heard of a tradition of praying a daily Memorare for whoever in the world needs it most -- and I know that there are people who have felt bolstered by prayer at times when they could not even pray themselves.

I am so glad that in the midst of your pain God has given you this joy and peace.

JMB said...

When my father died suddenly and unexpectedly last year, the Memorare was the only prayer I could say for months. I remember just sitting in my kitchen staring at the Mass card and repeating the prayer over and over again. Somebody once told me it is the "last resort" prayer for the living. I'm so grateful for our faith.