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I wish more people could experience a resurgence of their faith.
I wish more people could experience a resurgence of their faith.
I’ve got to read the whole story to find out if she learned to say the Rosary rather than just sleep with it around her neck......not exactly what you do with a rosary!
Autumn came. I fell pregnant, and was in equal measure ecstatic at having a baby and terrified at the possibility of losing another child. Going to Sunday Mass had become a habit. My husband and I still wished we could partake fully and receive the Eucharist and so had signed up for the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) process through which adults are gradually introduced to the Catholic faith and way of life. Last year a record 891 adults took part in the RCIA in London alone. Our first Monday evening class had close to 20 participants, aged between 25 and 65, though the majority were, like my husband and I, in their 30s. There were three Catechists, lay people trained to instruct others in the ways of the faith, to guide and help us. As the weeks passed we grew into a tight-knit group, prone to laughter and to an openness that I had never encountered elsewhere.
As the months progressed, we took part in several ceremonies that make up what the Church calls the “Rite of Election and Call to Continuing Conversion of Candidates”. This spring, my husband and I observed Lent for the first time ever. We read, prayed and, among other things, stopped watching television. The Lenten period, which coincided with me entering my third trimester of pregnancy, ended up being an incredibly peaceful yet intensely spiritual time. Without television to distract us in the evenings and with a focus on faith, we found ourselves having some of the best conversations of our marriage. When it was finally time to be received into the church during the Easter Vigil we were both as excited as we had been before our wedding, or the birth of our first child.
In the candle-lit church on Holy Saturday we stepped up to the altar in the company of 17 of our RCIA friends, plus our sponsors or godparents. As Fr Howard said the words and performed the rituals that meant that we were now Catholics most of us had tears rolling down our cheeks.
The Easter Vigil Mass went on until late. My husband and I walked home through the unusually balmy April night, feeling more at peace than we had for years, perhaps ever. Certainly since Elspeth’s death 15 months earlier.
A friend once asked whether we had had grief counselling. We have not, bar one session offered by our hospital. But the path that our life has taken since that grey January day 18 months ago has provided enormous comfort.
I wish more than anything that it hadn’t taken the death of my child to make me discover my faith. Nothing can give us back our daughter or erase the sorrow in our hearts. Being received into the Catholic Church is clearly not a cosmic consolation prize. But in the space of two amazing months I became a Catholic and gave birth to a gorgeous baby boy. Both felt like happy new beginnings.