St. Gianna

Today is the feast of St. Gianna Beretta Molla. I have a special devotion to St. Gianna and so I thought it appropriate to post the origins of that devotion today.

Almost seven years ago, our first daughter, Therese Joy, was diagnosed in utero with a fatal neural tube defect called anencephaly. In the days and weeks following Therese's diagnosis, I literally survived on the prayers of hundreds of friends. Some of these friends I have never met, and others I have had the pleasure of meeting after the birth and death of my daughter. One such woman mailed me a relic of then Blessed Gianna Beretta Molla. This woman wrote me a letter, promised to pray fervently for our intentions, asked me to read St. Gianna's book, and to wear the relic.

I don't wear jewlrey (other than my wedding ring), and this relic was huge! Yet after reading Gianna's book, I felt very drawn to her life, and could very much relate to the suffering she must have felt during her last pregnancy. I drew great strength from her story, and began to pray for her intercession. I wore the relic daily for the remainder of my pregnancy. I even wore it during my labor and delivery of Therese.

After the birth and death of Therese I prayed fervently for the gift of another baby to love, and this time to keep. All the suffering of my pregnancy, all the pains of labor, were so worth it to hold Therese in my arms--even for just a few hours. I wanted to do it all again, and this time to have a baby to take home.

As the weeks and months passed, my grief over losing Therese grew deeper, and my prayers for a child grew more and more desperate. Each cycle brought about new feelings of hopelessness and sadness. I was consumed with doubt that we would ever have another baby, let alone a healthy baby. I grew more and more depressed. I felt sorry for myself, angry at God that my daugther had died, and frustrated that it was taking so long to be blessed with another baby. I felt like I had done everything God asked of me, I even gave him my only daugther. I never once asked God to heal Therese, because I felt very strongly that this was not His will. And yet there I was, feeling totally abandomed and alone.

I was self-consumed and full of anxiety. I cried almost every day. I felt totally helpless. Friends announced their pregnancies to me, and every time it was like a knife in my heart. Why were so many women blessed with multiple healthy children, and yet my baby died and I wasn't getting pregnant! I then felt guilty for not rejoicing in their news. What a terrible friend I was! It was a vicious cycle.

At just about the lowest point in my grief--and my life--my spiritual director called me out on being self-consumed with my own problems. He challenged me to start thinking of other people and how I could, even in my own grief, serve other women. He assured me that I was not going to get out of my funk and depression if I kept thinking about myself.

Right around this same time, I heard the sad news that one of the couples we knew at the law school had just had their adoption fall through. Kristen worked at the law school library, and her husband attended the school with me and my husband. Kristen always greeted me with a big smile when I walked into the library. She and her husband had been struggling with infertilty for years, and doing so in strong Catholic circles where pregnancies are announced on a very regular basis.

The news of their failed adoption hit me very hard. I suddenly felt this intense sadness for someone other than myself. I remembered Kristen, who didn't know me very well, crying when she heard the news of our daugther's illness. It was the week after Therese's diagnosis, and Kristen approached me after Mass with tears in her eyes as she told me how sorry she was about Therese. She promised to pray, and I knew she would. That moment in the past was suddenly clear as day, and I found myself crying tears of sorrow for her. I thought, she must feel like me, empty, lost, confused, and hurt. I began to pray for her immediately, and I helped to organize a spiritual bouquet for her. The roses we gave her lived for weeks, and I later discovered that she was very moved by the gesture.

Kristen responded to their failed adoption with a novena to St. Gianna. She asked for a baby girl, who she planned to name Gianna. Very shortly thereafter, in miraculous fashion, she received a call that a baby girl had been born and that they were chosen to be the adoptive parents.

I never remember feeling such joy at the birth of a friend's baby. Kristen's suffering had been so great, and it was a great blessing to know she had a beautiful baby girl to love and cherish. Ever since the death of Therese, I had to run and hide from the babies of friends and family. Each new child seemed to remind me so poignently of my own loss and suffering. But Kristen's Gianna was an answer to my prayers, and every time I saw her I was reminded that God was indeed good, and that sometimes he does say yes to the intentions of our hearts.

Soon afterwards, Kristen informed me of her novena to St. Gianna, and she challenged me to pray the same novena, asking for a healthy baby girl who I would name Gianna. While it took me almost two months to feel ready for another novena, I eventually did as she advised. The next month, I discovered I was pregnant, and nine months later we met our own baby Gianna. And in typical Divine fashion, then Blessed Gianna was canonized just weeks after our Gianna's birth. It was a joyous time indeed!

The life of a new baby brought great healing to my very broken heart. While the pain and sadness of losing Therese will always remain a part of who I am, much of the bitterness, anger, and fear disappeared when I heard our Gianna's first cry. Gianna is always a reminder to me that life's greatest joys are indeed accompanied by deep suffering. She reminds me daily of the sweetness of life, and that even amidst suffering, God hears our cries and answers our prayers.

You can read Kristen's story here, and do check out her beautiful blog. She is an amazing writer, and just a beautiful person. When I came across her blog I cried tears of joy as I read about her Gianna. Through the intercession of St. Gianna, we both have beautiful young girls to love. May God Bless you all today on this great feast!

Happy Birthday Baby

It was raining softly this morning as we all awoke and headed to the cemetery. It was damp and cool, but the weather just felt right—it matched my mood. Somehow, it is harder to cry when the sun is brightly shining. Tears streamed down my face as we walked toward her grave.

Another year has passed.

The pain is still there, but it is a dull distant ache. Six years have made certain things hard to remember. The once very sharp memories are fading. Certainly there are things I will never forget, but certain details of her brief life have left me. I once mourned the loss of these memories. Today I thank God for the gift of passing time.

We all placed flowers on her grave and we prayed. We asked for her intercession and we thanked God for the gifts of our healthy children. I will hug them all very tightly today, praising God for the gift of each precious life. I prayed silently for all mothers who have lost a child, and all families that are experiencing grief during this holiday season.

It is Thanksgiving week and we are all very busy readying our homes for family and other fun celebrations. I always feel a bit guilty to be grieving during this time of year. The end of November is always difficult, as I remember my baby and many emotions of the past come flooding back. Yet I am not alone in my grief.

There are many, many families grieving the loss of loved ones during this time of year. Cards, notes, phone calls, and prayers go a long way in healing their aching hearts. While we all sit around and plan our Thanksgiving, and soon Christmas, dinners let us also take a moment to plan how we can serve someone who is grieving the loss of a loved one. A small note, a dinner invitation, or simply taking the time to pray can go a long way toward healing hearts and building our church communities.

It is the Joy and the Sorrow that makes us Christian mothers. Today I am thanking God for Therese Joy, the baby girl who taught me both.

Girl who defied myths on Anencephaly dies in Brazil

I have been following the life of baby Marcela de Jesus Ferreira for several months. Baby Marcela was born with anencephaly. (My daughter Therese, and Kat's daughter Lucy also had this fatal birth defect.) Yet unlike most babies with anencephaly, who live for hours or days after birth, baby Marcela lived for almost two years. And she was loved for every minute of her amazing little life:

Rio de Janeiro, Aug 5, 2008 / 04:44 pm (CNA).- During her short life of one year, eight months and twelve days, Marcela de Jesus Ferreira made more friends than any other child of her age. Some 1,500 attended her funeral and accompanied her casket to the cemetery of Patrocinio Paulista, her hometown, where a street will be named in her memory.

Marcela de Jesus Ferreira was born on November 20, 2006. At four months of development, doctors diagnosed her with anencephaly, a birth defect in which the baby is born with a partial or non-existent brain. Babies born with this condition usually survive for only hours or days.

Marcela’s birth and struggle for life coincided with a heated debate on the legalization of abortion in Brazil in cases of anencephaly. Abortion supporters, who for months insisted that the condition only causes pain and suffering to babies, were not able to stifle the testimony of Casilda Galante Ferreira, the 36 year-old mother of Marcela.

“Everybody suffers, but she doesn’t belong to me, she belongs to God and I am taking care of her here,” she told journalists who interviewed her after giving birth. “Every second of her life” is precious, she said. “I consider her life to be a miracle so great that I am going to wait until God decides when to take her.” That moment came on August 1.

According to Brazilian media, Marcela died of cardiac arrest from complications due to pneumonia. Hundreds attended her funeral, and her parents decided to carry her casket to its final resting place. Prayers and songs of joy accompanied the procession, as friends and family members took turns respectfully carrying her casket to the cemetery.

Casilda said she tried to be the best mother she could. “God came to get her. It was her time. I am happy because she didn’t suffer much and she lived surrounded by love,” she said before saying her final goodbyes to little Marcela.

Our prayers are with the Ferreira family during this time of intense grief.
Baby Marcela, pray for us!

Kindergarten in Heaven

We are planning to homeschool Gianna (age 4) and lately I have been spending a lot of time researching curricula. During my research, I have had a strong desire to purchase a kindergarten curriculum for Gianna. The only problem—Gianna is a little too young for kindergarten. She will be 4.5 come September, and while mature for her age, she will definitely struggle with some of the material because she is too young.

Despite this fact, and regardless of my otherwise relaxed attitude towards homeschooling, I have had a strong desire to plunge forward and buy a kindergarten curriculum. Is this because I want my daughter to succeed academically? It is because I am a pushy parent, already putting pressure on my 4 year old to attain academic greatness? Is it because I think my child is mature for her age? Or intelligent for her age? Is it because I’m excited to be a “real” homeschooler?

No. I just want to have a little girl in kindergarten. But why?

This desire has been so strong that I spent last night lying awake thinking about why I want her to be in kindergarten. The label was somehow important to me. I look back with nostalgia at my own kindergarten experience. It was a real milestone in my life, and a time of great joy, learning, and independence. Was this the reason?

No. It was deeper than that. And then it hit me.

Therese.

Our baby Therese would be starting kindergarten this fall. Therese is my first baby, who was stillborn due to a fatal birth defect called anencephaly. If Therese were here, I would be ordering a kindergarten curricula for her.

“If she were here…”
“What if…”
“If only…”

These are the words of grief that ruled my life after Therese died. Grief has a funny way of rolling in when we least expect it. And last night it was back and I missed my daughter terribly. I thought of the dreaded day we heard the news that Therese wouldn’t be here with us for long. I distinctly remember crying until my entire body hurt and my eyes could barely see. I thought of all the great moments in life that would never be for Therese and me. And at the time, one of those moments was the first day of kindergarten.

Last night, as I laid silently in bed holding back the tears, with an aching chest and a large lump in my throat, I just closed my eyes and prayed. And God answered. I pictured my daughter, with long curly brown hair, running through a heavenly kindergarten playground, straight into the arms of Jesus. I had peace that my job was already done. Therese was there, in heaven. And the next thing I knew it was morning.