One year ago

One year ago yesterday I celebrated my 45th birthday. When I turned 40, I still had small children; by 45 it seemed I was definitely in that mid-life stage of children growing older and no little ones coming up behind. I had accepted that much as I would have loved a larger family, my two precious daughters were as big as it was going to get. A few months earlier we had got rid of assorted car seats and pushchairs. That stage of life was gone.

One year ago today I began to suspect I might be pregnant. Over the next few days it became much more than a suspicion - though I put off doing a test, partly out of disbelief, and partly out of fear of disappointment. Finally I plucked up the courage. Sure enough, the test was positive. I asked everyone I knew (and many I didn't) for prayers. I have reason to be very grateful to those friends, both known and unknown, who prayed for us. Pregnancy never comes with any guarantees, and at 45 there was a significantly higher risk of miscarriage and complications. I made it to 12 weeks and a scan showed a perfect, tiny baby. The miracle began to seem real. Morning, evening and night sickness (fortunately afternoons were better) was replaced with a nasty asthmatic cough and breathlessness. I don't normally suffer from asthma but it is triggered by pregnancy. I had it mildly with Star. This time it was a six month battle, trying to keep ahead with an ever increasing pile of inhalers. People continued to pray. Our Little Cherub grew despite my poor health.

Two weeks before my due date I had a routine appointment with my community midwife. My blood pressure had begun to rise. The midwife felt the breathlessness was taking too much of a toll. Worse still, she was not happy with Little Cherub's heart rate. She sent us to the hospital for monitoring. During a brief stop at home to collect my bag I sent out emails asking for prayers. And they were answered. Little Cherub's heart trace wasn't good. Worse, she wasn't moving. The obstetrician decided on an emergency c-section. Within 15 minutes, Little Cherub was out and being resuscitated by a team of paediatricians. I discovered later she was born with an Apgar score of 2. After a short but heart-stopping wait the doctors started to smile ... and Little Cherub cried. Within a few minutes we were able to hold our new daughter. She was tiny - only 5lbs 7lbs - but in perfect health. All those prayers had been answered. Our miracle baby was with us.

What can I say about mid-life motherhood? Simply, it is a joy. I am aware in a way I wasn't with Angel and Star that every day with this little miracle is precious and I savour each one. Even after four months I have to pinch myself to believe this is real. My heart melts each time I look at my Little Cherub; I snuggle her and I'm warmed to my toes. Even looking at the baby paraphernalia scattered round the house is a thrill. I have learned gratitude. I thank God constantly for this precious, unexpected gift. Having a new baby after an eight year gap is in some ways like being a first time mother again - I have that same sense of wonder and excitement - but with the benefit of experience. For Angel and Star, their baby sister is a wish granted. Both had longed for a new sibling. To see them cuddling, comforting and playing with their sister is an added joy.

I try to say Evening Prayer daily (though I'm afraid I miss it too often) and each time Our Lady's great prayer of praise resonates in my soul and hones that spirit of gratitude.
My soul glorifies the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour
... the Almighty works marvels for me, Holy His name ...

Deo gratias! And if you were one of those friends who prayed for us, thank you more than I can say.