I have a nice little story to share:
I went to the OB’s office today to schedule the induction date. (Because of all the blood thinner/clotting disorder issues we’ll have to induce labor. I don’t love that idea, but agree with my doctors that it’s the most reasonable route.) I knew from the beginning that we’d have to do an induction, so I was delighted when back in April I looked ahead on the calendar to see that the baby was due near the feast days of my confirmation saint, St. Monica (August 27), and her son, St. Augustine (August 28). In my crazier moments I’ve even wondered if it wasn’t more than coincidence that this surprise pregnancy would come to term around those dates.
As I’ve said before, I feel particularly close to St. Monica and believe that I have seen proof of her intercessory prayers on multiple occasions this past year. I’m also enchanted with the writing of her son, St. Augustine, one of the greatest minds in Western history, and feel like I can particularly relate to him and the deep regret he felt for his life away from God. I’m always touched whenever I think of the heavy sorrow he felt for making fun of a friend who became Christian (who died shortly thereafter). I’ve done so many things like that, and it’s somehow comforting to know that even the great Augustine of Hippo made those mistakes. Addressing God, he refers to himself as “I who once did not blush to profess before men all my blasphemies and to bark like a dog against you.” Oh yeah — been there, done that.
Not only can I relate to St. Augustine and admire his greatness as a Christian and as a thinker, but the fact that he his the son of my confirmation saint always serves to remind me of the beauty of my vocation: not only can I try to be a saint myself, but I can try to help my children become saints as well. Without the beautiful witness and tireless dedication of his mother, the man we know as a powerful force for God and Doctor of the Church, the great St. Augustine, may very well have lived out his life in anonymous debauchery.
Anyway, back to the induction: in my prayers over the past few weeks I’ve thrown in a few shout-outs to Sts. Augustine and Monica to ask for their prayers for a healthy baby and smooth delivery. I also made it known that I would really like for the baby to arrive on the feast day of St. Augustine, the 28th, and asked for help making that happen. While the feast day of St. Monica would be great, I thought the idea of having a child on my confirmation saint’s child’s feast day was incredibly inspiring.
So I was disappointed when my doctor and I sat in front of the calendar and, for a variety of reasons, he recommended dates later in August or early in September. We chose a random date in that range that had no significance to me, he noted it in his calendar, and we moved on to the exam. During the exam I had a fleeting thought that it was a bummer that my saints didn’t come through for me this time.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind when I heard the doctor say, “Wow, you’re already two centimeters dilated and seventy percent effaced.” He thought about it for a moment and announced, “We need to change the date.” The only downside, he explained, was that by moving to a closer date we wouldn’t be able to choose it ourselves. He’d just have to call the hospital and have them squeeze me in whatever day they had available.
He left the room for a while, came back in, and said, “It’s going to have to be August 28th. Does that work for you?”
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