Two Saints. Twice the love.

We thought for sure this time was going to be different.  My beloved wife and I now have two little saints in Heaven.  We had our second miscarriage on September 16, 2011.  The first saint is named Maria Jose Villalobos.  This one we named Jesus Salvador "Chavita" Villalobos.  Much like the first time, we had visits to the emergency room, but this time we were more vigilant so that meant more visits to the emergency room.  We weren't taking any chances, in case there was something that they could have done to help carry out a successful pregnancy.  I am not sure what makes this time seem more painful.  Is it seeing my wife in physical and emotional pain?  That always rips my heart.  Is it the fact that this has now happened twice?  God has a plan.  Mathematically, that is now two saints in Heaven translating to twice the love from above.  Still, though, the hurt has to be processed.

I am the kind of person that needs to put certain things on the outside, hence the reason I made this blog account.  I know that for some, that might sound counter-intuitive to meet my pain directly, but ignoring my thoughts or suppressing them is just not my style.  I am aware that it might hurt, but that's just part of my healing.  So here it goes...

• The first Sunday after the miscarriage, my wife was too much in pain to move so I took the kids alone to Mass.  To my surprise, my parents joined me at Mass.  Ever since I got married, I began to attend Mass in English.  My parents until that Sunday, had always attended Spanish Mass.  I was quite moved that the notion to attend English Mass came from my Dad - "Quiero ir a Misa con mi'jo (I want to go to Mass with my son.)."  I was deeply moved especially during the Liturgy of the Eucharist when I have a special moment to talk to my babies in Heaven.  I introduced them to their grandparents.  "Your daddy loves you very much, and 'Buelo & 'Buela are here with me."
  
  
• Some people have asked me if things are okay without knowing the story.  Or if they see me alone, they want to know where my wife is and how she's doing.  At that point, I ask them for prayer, tell them what has happened, and I tell them how we're truly doing.  Saying what happened still waters up my eyes.  For some people, it might be bothersome.  For me, my reaction is an expression of love for my little saints, and I gladly accept the opportunity to express that love when given the chance.  Having that frame of mind doesn't keep it from hurting any less, but it does make it worth it.
  
  
• Seeing babies can be a challenge sometimes when you have gone through a miscarriage, or more.  This is especially true for the moms, but also for the dads.  Dads suffer as well.  Or at least for me, it can be challenging.  My recent hurdle was a failure.  I am ready to see babies, but I decided to take it to the next level and see them with a musical element.  Music is very powerful.  It has the ability to bring back a ton of emotions to the surface.  I thought I was ready to do this with music.  I clearly was not.  I don't think I will share the songs with you, but all you have to do is search YouTube for "child in heaven" and hang on for the emotional roller coaster steep drop.  And don't forget your favorite brand of tissue paper.  Grab the whole box. 

My consolation again is my faith.  I told myself that maybe Maria Jose needed a little brother to play with in Heaven.  I can live with that.  One day, I will embrace them.  Being in October is also a blessing.  October is Respect Life Month in the Catholic calendar.  That will bring many thoughts of my babies in Heaven.  Being members of the Kingdom of God and believing in the communion of saints is a special bond between us on Earth with those in Heaven.  That brings great peace.  Nonetheless, I still pray and ask for prayer.  Saint Joseph, pray for us.  Blessed Virgin Mary, pray for us.

One month ago today, on May 19th, my wife’s life and mine changed forever.

On May 13^th of this year, 2011, my wife and I confirmed our long awaited suspicion that we might be pregnant.  Someone asked me what that felt like.  It was something that I had never experienced, so naturally people wanted to know my reaction.  I described it to them like a warm hug from Heaven; it is something indescribable.  A few days later, we had her doctor confirm our drug store revelation.  We were very happy!

A couple of days later, we had to go to the emergency room.  Our fears became reality when the doctor told us that our baby was gone; known in the medical world as a miscarriage.  We were in both physical and emotional pain as we mourned our loss.

Patroness of the Unborn

That unforgettable day was one month ago today, and now today is Father’s Day.  It was very difficult in the following days after May 19^th.  My consolation was my faith in God and the most perfect prayer of all, Mass.

The height of Mass is when Heaven and earth meet during the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  In that special moment in Mass, my baby and I can be together.  My baby is in Heaven, first held by our Blessed Mother and taken to Jesus Christ to share in His Glory with the Innocents and Saints.  And every time I can find time to go to Mass, I get to be with her in a truer sense.  Gotta love daily Mass!  The following prayer that helped me is found in a Father’s Manual I bought at a Catholic store:

To a Child in Heaven

My dear little saint, now alive in Heaven, you have gone home to God to be eternally happy and are now in joy in the company of the Holy Innocents there. It was a thing hard for me to understand when you were taken from us, for parting with you has caused me grief that few can fully understand. Yet in all my grief I am happy, very happy for you, because I know the joy that is yours.

Your joy is now my joy too because I can always feel that I had a part in bringing it to you; and, now that you are in heaven, I realize that you are mine in a truer sense than you could ever be on earth. I cannot lose you now through sin. While parting with you was hard, I would not wish you back because I know that you are happier than I could ever make you were you with me still.

Help me, as you now can with your intercession, that I may be completely faithful to all my duties here below and merit to join you in eternal joys where there will be no more sorrow or parting from those we love. Amen.

St. Joseph, Patron of the Unborn

So today in Mass on Father’s Day 2011 and being the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity, I received one of the best gifts a Dad can have -  a hug from Heaven.  In my heart my baby is a girl, so, family members of mine and JoVann, when you get to Heaven and a little person comes to welcome you to Heaven and says "Hi Tia / Hi Tio," that’s our little Saint Maria Jose Villalobos.  I can’t wait to be greeted by her one day, God willing. :')

What I believe...

As a Catholic and in being Christian, I believe in God.  I believe He has created everything there is and everything that will be, done so through His Will and inspiration.  God has created all, with His Word, and sustains it by the power of the Holy Spirit.  The Nicene Creed and the Apostles Creed say it best.  I also particularly like the last part of the Apostles Creed:

"I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting."

The communion of saints is very meaningful to me, especially as we ponder the cycle of life.  When we leave our earthly existence, we find ourselves in a new spirit existence.  God made us to one day return to Him and have everlasting joy.  The road to Him is not easy, but Jesus came to show us in person how it can be done.

We are born a certain way.  By that I mean that before we can learn any habits, we typically, very early on, begin to exhibit certain innate traits.  I'm sure you've heard people make comments about babies like, "she's always happy, he's very high-strung, etc."  Our essence is God-given.

I got to see this more so with my Grandmother in her last days.  Throughout her life, she was not a fan of being sick.  She was a very strong lady, physically and spiritually.  In her later years, she would get scared if she got sick because she did not want to die.  She would say that she loved living too much to die!  Some might say that she thought that because she did not receive the proper catechesis (faith formation), but I think there are plenty of people with proper formation that are still scared of dying.  Grandma saw herself as young for a long time.  I think her years snuck up on her one day.  It was probably the day she had to rely more on her cane to walk.  It probably happens to everyone.  We have an image in our minds of what we look like and we probably don't update that image too often.  I know that for me, one day I looked in the mirror and I wasn't a kid anymore.

Recently, my sister sent me a picture of Grandma that I had requested from her.  Along with the picture I wanted, the file came with another picture depicting a younger "Grandma."  When I saw it, I saw the person that was inside Grandma.  She was probably 19 years old when the picture was taken.  This young lady in the picture depicted everything my Grandma exhibited after her stroke.

Bertha Ramirez Celestino. 1941.

In my Twitter updates, I mentioned three scares that she gave us.  She would begin to breathe a bit startled with her eyes open.  In her face, there was a will to live and a fear of dying.  This was the girl who laid in the bed scared.  This was the girl who fought and resisted the "call" to go Home to God.  This is whose hand I held.  This is whose face I kissed.  This is whose bed I stood by and prayed for.  This is who I spoke to, hoping that she could hear me.  And I am certain that this is how she now looks like in Heaven.

To me, those scary episodes were my Grandpa and family coming to her to escort her to Heaven.  To me, her reactions (her breathing, etc.) were caused by, dare I say(?), her stubbornness to "die."  Days later, her face changed to a peaceful, more accepting expression.  You could almost see the transformations going on in her as she came to terms with things.  She found Peace.  Monday, February 7, 2011, was a beautiful sunny day.  Peace was in the air that morning.  She offered up her soul to God as we prayed for intercession, as we prayed continual Hail Mary prayers.

I will see her again in life everlasting.  We will communicate through prayer through the communion of saints.  This is what I believe.

Who was my Grandmother to me?

I was given an opportunity to say some words at the conclusion of her funeral mass.  I had no idea of what I was going to say, but being in God's house, I knew that it would come from the heart.  I spoke in Spanish, as is my first language and mostly those in attendance, but here's a rough translation of what I said:

I had the honor and the privilege to have been taken care of by Grandma in the first days of my life.  Every since then, she was always a part of my life.  I learned from her how to approach life and not always in the big things, but in the simple details of my time with her.  Even when I went away to college and was away for almost seven years.  I did come home for summers, but during the semesters I strove to see her at least once a month.  And when I moved to Austin for almost three years, I still came home to visit.  I took care of Grandma recently at home, but She did not like to be taken care of; she was a strong person.  I had to do so from afar so I wouldn't hurt her pride or affect the strength of her will power.  It hurt me the times she fell and I had to pick her up from the floor.  I thank God that I was able to be there every time she needed me.  It was only through God's grace that I was able to help her.  As she had taken care of me during the first days of my life, I thank God that I was able to return the favor and take care of her during her last days of hers.

Grandma was definitely another mother to me.  I inherited from her what a son inherits from a mother - her time, her love, and her wisdom.  The word "grandmother" has two parts.  We are all so used to the word, that perhaps many of us never quite think about it.  It's just another title.  Well, the operative word is "mother" in the word "grandmother."  It describes the relationship that should exist - the relationship she seeks to have with all of her family (not just some).  Too many times, family is too busy or unwilling to sacrifice some time to see, or even call, their grandparents.  This is sad.  Sigh.  Before I go off on a tangent, that's all I will say on that, so I will keep focusing on "mother."

The word "mother" gave me the direction as to the nature of the relationship I should have with my grandmother.  Once this is established, you will feel there exists a need to take care of your "mother."  How could you not??  How could you cause your grandmother tears??  Grandmothers are very special.  Mine was to me.  I had several family traditions with her.  I always hugged and kissed her on every Christmas Eve night at midnight and again on New Year's Eve at midnight.  For as long as I had her on this earth, nothing was more important to me.  I got to do this 37 times.  I gave her flowers (roses) for Mother's Day and on Saint Valentine's day when I had the money.  Every time I got up from the table after a meal, I made sure I kissed her in gratitude.  I kissed her in gratitude if all she did was share a meal with me or give me a napkin, because she did it with love.  Love is responded with love.  If I left the house, I made sure that I kissed her goodbye because I did not want to live with an emptiness of missing an opportunity of showing her the place she had in my life.

Who was my Grandmother to me?  She was my other mother.

'Buelita Bertha R. Celestino

Bertha Ramirez Celestino

On February 7, 2011 at 9:15AM, my grandmother awoke to Eternal Life in Heaven.

Before her death, she laid asleep for several days as a result to a stroke during the morning of January 20, 2011.  She had bleeding in her brain and never was able to recover from the damage.  She remained, for the most part, in a peaceful state.  This was part of our consolation during these of her last days with us.

We had about two and half weeks of being at her side.  We began with hope that she would wake up, then we hoped that she would not be in pain, and finally all we hoped for was peace.  During this time, I had lots of reflections and meditations about who Grandma was, why I was by her side, and how God and His Angels and Saints were ever present.  And who knows??  Perhaps there are a few others that will come out throughout this blogging experience.

The following blog entries will try to unravel these thoughts from my head to the screen.  Who are these entries for?  These entries are for anyone who can find meaning in them.  And to some degree, these entries will attempt to express my love for my beloved 'Buelita.  God Bless you.