In the midst of all our usual flashy pictures of cute little children picking Easter eggs and making crucifixion scenes out of Lego with a certain Iscariot "hanging" out nearby, it must be admitted that such images, though a fun and real depiction of family life, do not fully illustrate what has been happening in our lives of late. I share the following for the purpose of obtaining some prayers. There is no attempt at over-sensationalizing events. Everyone has ups and downs. Life is good. We are very blessed.
After a particularly trial at work at the end of January, Becca and I prayed a novena to our beloved St. Joseph. The intention did centre around a move to be closer to the Latin Mass in Saskatoon. Perhaps the novena was partially motivated by selfishness, or feeling sorry for ourselves, though perhaps as well there was a deep down a wholesome and pure motivation; nevertheless, St. Joseph is a saint who can be trusted to work God's will. Near the completion of the novena one thing became quite evident, Becca was pregnant! She was feeling crummy and such. The good Lord replied to us with a "Here's something to keep you preoccupied for a while." And so a new chapter begins in the Millette family history book.
But again, Becca was feeling crummy and such. To the extent of it not being how she usually feels while pregnant. We soon figured something was the matter. I'm sure many of you have experienced this trial. And so, one sunny day in March, Becca went to nearby Melfort for an ultrasound. I remember walking home from work that afternoon. It was a rare warm and sunny day. Though it seemed like all was lost, that the baby wouldn't make it, the air seemed so right and happy. I had a moment of hope that things would turn out fine.
I walked in the house and could tell immediately by Becca's face that it was not so. The ultrasound apparently didn't detect any heartbeat, and there was something wrong with the images on the screen. The doctor was being sent the results, and would call back within an hour. Such news always makes one a little shaky. Why did I have to have that sunny moment of hope a few minutes prior? Always a roller coaster. Soon Becca got a call from the hospital. There was a nurse on the other end. The nurse began with, "You'd better sit down for this..."
In the kitchen I waited while Becca talked in another room. Finally she came out. She was smiling, but... but... looked completely shell shocked. It took a minute or two before I finally was able to understand what Becca was saying. The ultrasound was actually showing two sacs. There was no detected heartbeat because, you see, two babies at this stage would still be too small to have heartbeats register. And, just to top it off, this surprise made the nurses day. I'm so happy this life-changing news "made her day" and all.
I gripped my hand on the oven door handle. My legs went very weak. Suddenly there were two shell shocked faces in the kitchen. One for each baby! This was the biggest surprise either of us have ever had in our life. Words truly fail me. We were too shocked to be excited or emotional. This roller coaster just took a crazy turn. While spiraling ahead. Needless to say, I didn't eat much supper that night.
I often hear people say: "Once the shock wore off..." Yeah, the shock. It lasted over a week. Twins?!? Double the diapers. Double the car seats. And we'd need a new van? It was, honestly, overwhelming. But the shock did wear off. And I remember pondering on St. Joseph's feast day how he never shied from his shock of hearing that Mary was pregnant (with the Lord no less). And the shock started drifting into visions of two little babies, lying on the floor, talking to each other in a language only twins can understand. Two little kids running together around the house, laughing and screaming. Two young hockey players to join the older three siblings for a family game of hockey. The shock was wearing off indeed. Life changes. It's not our own anyway.
At that time Becca had just finished a book, and I was well into it, titled: "Come Rack! Come Rope!" Written by Msgr. Benson, it is a historical fiction taking place during the Elizabethan persecution of Catholics in England following the Reformation. The rack was the choice instrument of torture employed on Catholics, and particular Catholic priests, to gain knowledge of other priests as well as any Papist sympathizers. The rope was the choice instrument of death, though truth be known the martyr would always be taken down from the rope just a little bit early so that he or she could experience one final sensation, that of being maliciously severed. "Come Rack! Come Rope!" puts one in the mind of a martyr as he lives this agony. A martyr who, though preparing for this his entire life, turns out to be eerily similar to you or I. Just a person. A Catholic. One who is afraid. One who experiences abandonment. One who experiences great and intense suffering. Yet such martyrs persevere. While we often cry out that we are too weak.
You see, hearing of twins means changes. No, I don't think a move to near Saskatoon would be possible. Nor even frequent drives at 6:30am to the Latin Mass. Not with five little children aged seven and under. It would mean no free time. No energy. Perhaps ridicule from others. Feelings of abandonment. Of being afraid. Of experiencing great and intense suffering. In my mind I called out like St. Thomas More: "This is not the stuff of which martyrs are made of." Not me. Not yet. Well, there is no choice, save that of choosing to embrace this cross. The cross is joy when, and only when, embraced out of love. "This is God's path for me to be a saint," I thought. I'm doing a lousy job of becoming a saint on my own accord anyway. Come Rack! Come Rope! We will embrace this new life. And it will be more abundant than I could ever imagine. Come Glory!
The doctor wanted another ultrasound. Becca drove to Melfort again on the Wednesday morning of Holy Week. I came home from work at lunch. We hadn't told our own kids yet! I just wanted the assurance of another ultrasound. Again, I walked into the house and could see from Becca's face that something was wrong. She told me that the babies stopped growing. There were no heartbeats. The doctor said she would wait a few weeks to let nature take its course on the miscarry. Hopefully this would go safely. We'll just have to be patient. Again shock. A roller coaster we have never experienced. I somehow made it through the rest of the day at work. Our minds would not stop trying to process the past two months. How? Why? What?
"Becca! Look at this!" That very evening I received a message. There was the announcement that we had a new nephew! Our hearts surged. What happy news! Within a couple of hours we were staring at the picture of little Anthony. What a cutie. For the Christian there is always life with death. Sometimes even literally! Though Becca and I didn't sleep much that night, there was still a peaceful sense of comfort in hearing of our new nephew.
And so we entered the Triduum. Becca spent most of it on the couch. By Holy Saturday afternoon we made a bold decision. We had a hotel reserved in Saskatoon, and by gosh we were going to get there and use it and then, most importantly, be at our beloved Latin Mass for Easter morning Mass! We frantically packed. Made some sandwiches, and hit the road. It was a bright and sunny, and windy, day. Oh yeah, the wind. We still have a few feet of snow around here. The wind was intense, and blowing the snow on the road. The sun hit the snow on the road and ever so slightly melted it. And then it froze. Becca said she wasn't feeling great either. Long story short, we had a lovely drive of nearly an hour before common sense kicked in. I turned the van back to Tisdale. The boys in the backseat were upset at the lost swimming. Becca and I were upset thinking of the Mass we would be forced to endure the next morning in Tisdale (seriously, how does a choir not pick a single Easter song for Easter morning Mass?). Oh Lord... this is... difficult... but that's ok.
We wait now. The worst is yet to come. This is why I ask for prayers for Becca. We told the kids about the babies. They were a little shocked. Kids are resilient though. Even right away if need be. We even snuck in a trip to see baby Anthony. Emilie is in love with this little man. She speaks continuously of him. It makes us happy. We continue to wait. Becca lays on the couch much of the time. The worst is yet to come. God has placed a peace within us though, and especially in Becca. We must not run from this cross. Only embrace it. We are not the "stuff" of martyrs. But deep within I can find the words echoing forward: Come Rack! Come Rope!
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| "Baby! Baby!" A joy to behold. |
