Miracle babies and the pain of infertility

By Patricia

The Birth of John the Baptist by Tintoretto (Wikimedia Commons)

While my husband was checking out at Sam’s this afternoon, I took a seat in the snack area nearby.  And it was there that it captured me….a tiny, delicately sculpted foot with dimples and miniature toes….a perfect work of art.  I always marvel at that fresh beauty of a baby’s little fingers and toes, appearing almost too perfect to be real…like a masterpiece of purest wax.

This tiny, kicking foot was kissed and cuddled by an adorable little girl of about four, no doubt sister to whom I later saw was a baby boy of a few months, peacefully nursing from his bottle.  And, I didn’t cry.  Those of you who know my story might have expected that.

But not this time.  As I watched the husband and father of this trio gather his family together, I was lost in thought over the wondrous power they possessed.

Do they ever think about such things….these life- bearers entrusted with clothing in flesh the very children of God?   I know that we, the infertile, the barren, probe this mystery in breathless and unending fascination, turning it round and round, in wondrous contemplation.

But what of us?  Are we forgotten, somehow cursed by God, disgraced and covered in shame as once believed not so long ago…and surprisingly, somewhat in our own day.

Continue reading at Patricia's blog I Want to See God.

A story of mother praying for her children

By Lora Goulet

Three Women in Church By Hubertus (photo
credit: Wikimedia Commons)

My mother recalls that when she was a little girl, there was a woman at Church who she always saw quietly praying her Rosary~before Mass began, and again after Mass. My mother described the woman as being serene and focused, only occasionally glancing to smile briefly at others. My mother often wondered for whom this woman was praying so intently~perhaps she was praying for her children.

So impressed by this story, I've had my mother tell it to me again. I can almost visualize the quiet praying woman. 

Recollection of this story occupies my mind more frequently with time. Whenever friends at church converse asking each other to lift our loved ones in prayer, the woman in my mother's story comes to mind. I never actually saw her, yet I have a perception of her~quietly kneeling and completely focused as she devoutly prays her Rosary.


Lora blogs at  mommynovenas.

The mother of all parenting books

by Anabelle Hazard

Catholic Mothers of the world, drop whatever book you are reading and read this one, The Mother of the Little Flower by Celine Martin. 

Here are some of the 7 quick things I’ve learned from Blessed Zelie Martin:

1. She encouraged her children to perform acts of self-denial for heaven and had them slide rosary beads or fill a drawer with nuts for each good deed.  I was so inspired that I sprinted off to Hobby Lobby with a project.  My flower-picking girls placed baskets on our altar and decorated it with a flower for each good deed/self-denial.  The bouquets will be offered up when we renew our consecration to Our Lady.

 

2. Bl. Zelie “was constantly busy with lace-making, housekeeping, working for her children and correspondence.”  I note the ‘correspondence’ with glee because what remains of her letters have been used as evidence for her canonization and gives me justified permission for the time I spend online. It’s certainly possible that if Bl. Zelie were living today, she’d be e-mailing, blogging or face-booking to keep her friends and family inspired.

3. She was vigilant at correcting her children’s faults: from poutiness, to selfishness, to vanity. But did her children call her a nag?  No!  Pauline, her oldest praised her:  “My parents always seemed to me to be saints.  We were filled with respect and admiration for them. I sometimes asked myself if it were possible to find their equals on earth.”

Read the rest of this guest post by Anabelle at her blog  Written by the Finger of God.

The orchid resurrection

by Caroline

An orchid in Costa Rica (Photo Credit, Jose Manuel Lopez Pinto, Wikipedia).

There’s an orchid that sits on a green table on my porch. It was a Mother’s Day present from my son several years ago, which he has no memory of.

When he first gave it to me, the purple and white striped blooms had this delicate magical beauty, but unsure of my limited green thumb skills, I was concerned. Could I mother such a delicate plant? I put it on the porch and followed some basic orchid care instructions for dummies I found on the internet.

Next to the green table is the chair where I often sit to pray the evening office; where day after day, week after week, the orchid blossomed and thrived and gave me such joy. While praying there, I offered up the many concerns I had about my son; prayed when there were days I didn’t hear from him, prayed when I knew with that motherly instinct that something was wrong, but I didn’t know what.

Then one day, I could see the blooms dying off. One by one they dropped away, until all that was left of those purple veined beauties was a plant with thick green leaves.  The flowers were gone mirroring almost simultaneously a dark time in my relationship with my son.

Read the rest of this special Mother's Day post at Bell of the Wanderer.

A mother's prayers

by Terry 

I stood by helplessly and watched as a text message received by one of my older children instantly transformed a situation that showed much promise into a state of uncertainty.  My child was visibly disappointed and frustrated.  All I could do was give a reassuring hug and offer some words of consolation.

Throughout my work day, I prayed for my child, my heart heavy at seeing my child’s sadness.
Before they are born, we pray for our children.  Our prayers are full of hope and promise as well as petitions to safeguard the nine months of gestation.  As our newborn is placed in our arms for the first time, we praise with rejoicing and thankfulness.  We implore God to give us the strength, courage and wisdom needed to mother our babies and we ask Jesus and His Blessed Mother to make up for what is lacking in our imperfect motherhood.

As the children grow into toddlers, school children, teens and young adults, our prayers reflect the different stages. We intensify them as we see the spark of independence that will one day carry our offspring to lives of their own.  I think the most urgent of a mother’s prayers are when our children start to venture forth,  away from our protective gaze and helping hand.  Our worries and our need to let go bring us to our knees begging God and all the angels and saints to love and protect them in a way that we can’t.

Continue reading Terry's post at  8 Kids And A Business.  

(So sorry the link was wrong again this morning! I changed it last night and for some reason, the change didn't take. Please click through to Terry's blog! Thanks!)