Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Good Letters

Home
Catholic
Waiting for the Blessing

Waiting for the Blessing

Last updated on: December 10, 2015 at 1:00 am by Guest Contributor

Waiting for the Blessing 2015-12-09T11:51:54-07:00 Guest Contributor

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

By Lisa Ampleman

On Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, my church blesses expectant families. Rejoice, rejoice, we sing, Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel. A whole people waiting for a savior, families who are waiting for the birth of their baby. The rite is called the Blessing of a Child in the Womb, a small curled-up body in warmth and darkness.

For many years, though, the message to wait, to rejoice meant something very different to me: the lack of a child in the womb. Disappointment month after month.

I began to doubt that my husband and I would ever hold a baby in swaddling blankets. I clutched his hand more tightly as couples walked up the center aisle to be blessed in front of the congregation. Our hands formed the shape of the nursery rhyme: Here is the church; Here is the steeple. I pursed my lips and willed my stinging eyes to stay dry. Or, knowing it was coming, I asked my husband if we could attend another Mass, without the blessing.

Others in those pews, huddled in their winter coats under stark blue banners, have their own yearnings: for employment, for a spouse, for an end to pain or illness. Not all will see fulfillment by Christmas when the church fills with pines and poinsettias.

One of my favorite Psalms says, “I believe that I shall see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living,” not in heaven, but here on earth. Some difficult days, I could hold that phrase like a warm heating stone in my cold torso. Many times, it felt like self-deception to say such things.

Wait for the Lord, whose day is near, the choir sings. The harmonies hug each other in thirds and then go dissonant: Wait for the Lord, be strong, take heart. The Advent candles at our parish look almost blue in their violet-ness, and pink. Boys’ and girls’ colors.

The community is named for the two parishes that joined to create it: St. Monica St. George. A nagging mother, a slayer of dragons.

Last year, my husband and I were sixteen weeks pregnant on Gaudete Sunday, ready to announce our good news. My stomach was starting to look more pregnant than fat, and I’d bought my first maternity jeans.

I held my husband’s hand as we walked up the marbled aisle, and my eyes stung again, this time because I couldn’t believe we were finally here, ready to celebrate in the church where we’d met. We stood in front of the brightly lit altar, the day outside gloomy and chill. Four other couples joined us, one with a two-year-old son who wiggled away and wanted to stand on his own with his parents. “That’s what we’re all in for!” I joked with the people next to us.

“God, author of all life, bless, we pray, this unborn child,” the priest said with hand raised. “Give constant protection and grant a healthy birth that is the sign of our rebirth one day into the eternal rejoicing of heaven. Lord, who have brought to this woman the wondrous joy of motherhood, grant her comfort in all anxiety and make her determined to lead her child along the ways of salvation.”

I expected to cry but felt calm. It was a nice change from the anxiety I often had about this baby who took so long to conceive. Even well into the second trimester, I tried to avoid stories of miscarriages. I avoided the news because a woman in Colorado, not much further along in her pregnancy, had been assaulted, her baby cut out of her womb. She survived; the baby died.

I’d started to touch my belly unconsciously, cupping the little avocado sleeping inside me.

When we returned to our pew after the blessing, I noticed that the woman in front of us held her husband’s hand a little tighter. Her face was blank. They didn’t congratulate us later during the Sign of Peace when we shook hands.

This year, as my six-month-old son lies sleeping in his baby carrier, strapped to my husband’s chest with his arms and legs splayed out like a starfish, we’ll bless those anticipating their own babies’ arrivals. But I’ll think of those still waiting for their blessing.

I’ll think of my friends waiting to adopt, their Facebook page showing holiday celebrations that the baby could join (lopsidedly grinning snowman, hot chocolate with homemade marshmallows). I’ll remember that for some, Christmas will not mean the end of waiting.

Advent is a season when we join them in their limbo, even if for a few short weeks.

Lisa Ampleman is the author of a book of poetry, Full Cry (NFSPS Press), and a chapbook, I’ve Been Collecting This to Tell You (Kent State University Press). Her poems have appeared or forthcoming in journals such as Poetry, Image, Kenyon Review Online, and 32 Poems, and her reviews and prose in Diagram, Pleaides and Southeast Review Online. She is a Mullin Scholar at the Institute for Advanced Catholic Studies at USC from 2013-15 and lives in Cincinnati.

Previous Post

December 9, 2015

Why We Donate: Two 24-Year-Olds on Meaningful Support

Next Post

December 11, 2015 Poetry Friday: "Annunciation" by Katharine Coles

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category A. G. Harmon Alissa Wilkinson Allison Backous Art Authors Brad Fruhauff Bradford Winters Bryan Bliss Caroline Langston Chad Thomas Johnston Chris Hoke Christiana N. Peterson Culture D.G. Myers D.L. Mayfield Daniel Bowman Jr. David Griffith Elizabeth Duffy Faith Film Greg Wolfe Guest Contributor Interview Jan Vallone Jeffrey Overstreet Jessica Eddings-Roeser Jessica Mesman Griffith Kelly Foster Lindsey Crittenden Morgan Meis music Natalie Vestin Nick Olson Peggy Rosenthal Personal Reflection Poetry Friday Reflection Relationships Review Richard Chess Richard Cole Sara Zarr Shannon Huffman Polson Sonya Bilocerkowycz Tania Runyan Tony Woodlief Topical Categories Uncategorized Vic Sizemore Writing

Select a Month October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 February 2008

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

What were the first man and woman’s names in the Bible?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Joseph and Mary Jacob and Rachel Samson and Delilah Adam and Eve