The Power of Positive Self Talk

I always find it always funny when one of my friends tells me she is going to call herself for a meeting. I am sure we have all had one of those me, myself and I moments where we need to deal with an issue. One of my high school teachers used to say that neutrotypical minds should talk to themselves more than the mentally unstable people who we see walking around having animated conversations alone. Isn’t it nice though to actually talk to yourself? When everything shuts down and we are left with ourselves what do we actually hear; What is our inner self talk all about?

The words we use to talk to ourselves make us who we are; are we too harsh on ourselves, do we applaud ourselves or are we the first to downplay our own achievements? What kind of self-talk are we having when we are left alone to ourselves? Is it negative or positive self-talk?

I borrow something from my mother’s French – Kuiihuria; meaning you fill yourself …. HAH!! I feel like am having one of those inner talk moments where am the only one who understand what am saying – what I mean is you have to believe in yourself, fill yourself and feel yourself; Get it? Fill yourself and feel yourself.

Okay! Let us break it down;

Believing in yourself is all about self-trust; how much do we trust ourselves; Having self-trust means that you know yourself and you love the person you are. It means you are aware of what works for you and what doesn’t; you know where you are going, you love yourself enough to trust your decisions both big and small. You also don’t fear failure based on your decisions because your sense of worth is not external. Believing in yourself also means that you are consistently rooting for yourself and having the ability to take care of yourself in hard situations with abundant self-compassion that allows you to stand up each time you fall.

Iyanla Vanzant talks about how we treat ourselves; We have to put ourselves first, keep ourselves hale and hearty. Make sure your cup runneth over; what is in the cup is for me what overflows is for other people. Always keep your cup full of love, patience, kindness, self-trust and all a lot positive energy that you can find. When your filled up from the inside then you have the self-assurance to walk gracefully through life trails knowing very well that they exist to make us stronger and prepare us for better days ahead.

Let’s come to Feeling ourselves!

This we need to do every second of our existence and I don’t mean being vain and throwing your weight around. It means to have that unwavering self-confidence; believing in your abilities and who you are. Sounds a little like self-trust doesn’t it? it sure does but this goes and extra mile of being your own cheerleader and taking intentional time and effort to motivate yourself. You know how cheerleaders will say the craziest things to give their team motivation; sometimes unrealistic but it works. Yes, we need to do that to and for ourselves.

Sometimes we meet a lady dressed in jeans a t-shirt and some cute heels nothing special or extra ordinary but she will display a certain feeling of composure that just gives extra something to the way she looks. Feeling yourself is having that internal unexplained overwhelming self- assertion that yes I can and yes I am doing it!

I always remember powerful words that say the mind is everything, what you think you become. Self-trust and self-confidence go hand in hand; it doesn’t matter the odds against us. However, this does not mean that we don’t fail, it just means that we look at failure from a positive angle; we rise up after each fall and we learn with every failure.

Positive self-talk enables us to have self-trust to cultivate the life that we desire and enjoy. Positive self-talk reminds us that we deserve the best; we deserve to be loved; we deserve to be nurtured and cared for; we deserve to be respected and treated kindly. Only when we integrate this into our lives we can also be able to give the same to the people in our lives.

Positive self-talk allows us to Make bold decisions and chase what we want just because we can. It enables us to create a beautiful internal environment where we can enjoy our own company, be ourselves without the need of external validation thus making us Kings and Queens in our own lives.

I hope that everybody who reads this article today leaves here knowing that it all starts with You !
Loving Yourself
Trusting Yourself
Showing Up for Yourself
Standing Up For Yourself
And
Believing In Yourself!

Positive self-talk with help you manifest a beautiful mindset

Just like the phoenix, you Watched me burn, Now watch me Rise!

My name is Mukami,

I describe myself as an introverted extrovert, A lover of life and people.

I am that girl with a loud laugh, I love my books, my writing, my music and a fun road trip with great company will just seal the deal.

I call myself beautifully broken but also rising from the ashes like a phoenix.

I have had love, contentment and Joy. I have seen magnificent sunrises and glorious sunsets. I have travelled to wonderful cities, met beautiful people and experienced perfect moments.

I have also lost, lost to death, to malice, to ignorance and to life. I have had trials and tribulations that have broken me. I have been hurt by love, by death, by family and by friends.

The struggles and dark periods in my life have made me better and stronger; God is working on me and at my lowest point I have found Gods love. He is curing my wounds and healing my scars to help me find the beauty that is beyond human understanding. The seasons of brokenness and confusion is simply God just building me up for something beautiful.

God has been revealing to me the beauty in the hard times, the beauty that can come from the ashes and the beauty of being broken. I have learnt to see in the dark, I have learnt to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel.

I am rising like a phoenix from the ashes, I am emerging from the ashes stronger, Smarter and more powerful. Just like the Greek Mythical Bird I am transformed; letting go of my losses, my pain, my mistakes, worries, sorrows and ways of being.

Change is painful as it is beautiful.

Just like the phoenix, you Watched me burn, Now watch me Rise!

My letter to the Grieving Mum

I shed a tear every time I read a post on social media, or hear that someone has lost a child. The loss of a child in unimaginable and the pain is crushing. Grieving the loss of your child is lonely, it is isolating and terrifying. You feel scared of anything and everything. I am writing you this letter today hoping to reach out to a mum who is feeling alone and terrified, from one grieving mum to another with love.

Dear Mum,

Cry, shed those painful tears,
Scream! Shout! do not hide your pain,
The pain is real and its okay to be sad,
You have lost someone precious,
You have lost someone irreplaceable,
Its okay to feel lost, powerless and helpless,
Its okay to be angry, it’s okay to ask questions;
It is easy to panic, to question God, why would He take my child?

This is a difficult time, it is a time filled with loneliness and confusion. You may not be able to leave your bed, or shower or even talk to your friends; The truth is the sadness and the pain will not end; it will shift and it will change. It will take a while, it will take a while for the sun to shine; and when it finally does you will experience a new kind of strength, you will see the world in a new way; you will feel deeper, you will love harder and you will be beautified by your pain. But then sometimes you will find yourself back in the darkness; a sudden flashback, looking at a new born baby, a child playing on the street or a Facebook picture of beautiful triplets.

Sometimes the painful tears will surprise you.

Then we are back to square one.

But can I tell you something my fellow grieving mum? You will be fine! Your life is different, you will never be the same; because a part of you is missing, but you will be okay. You will have moments where you will break down but despite all these feelings you will be fine. You will be fine because slowly, slowly but surely you will find your healing. Finding your healing does not mean the end of the sadness, it means you will have memories without the current anguish that you feel today,

But Healing takes time,

You will heal in your own way, and on your own time; Healing does not fix the loss, neither does it mean replacing a child with another. Healing from the loss of your child means accepting your pain and taking time to grieve your child; Healing does not mean denial, it means embracing your agony, your sadness and allowing God to take control.

Dear Mum, please go ahead and cry, but remember God is holding your tears, we serve a mighty God. He can move mountains buts sometimes he doesn’t. It is hard to have faith in these doubtful moments and many unanswered prayers; This time of loss presents a time to seek God, a time to have faith that he will carry you through. I am a living testimony, Gods gives overwhelming grace and comfort that surpasses all human understanding. Cling to God during this storm, He is powerful and He is love.

Dear Mum, Remember no child dies without a legacy, it is up to us to keep the legacies of our babies alive; My son and daughter taught me so much, they taught me about endurance, about having a fighting spirit, about grace but most importantly they taught me how to love; they introduced me to a world of genuine love and care , the kind of love that is pure and unconditional . I saw beauty in their eyes, even though we never spent a lot of time with them, their beautiful faces will never be forgotten to me.

Let us find our healing together, let us honor our children, we can never move on from love, nothing including death can take away our love for our children that is why their memories will always be engraved in our hearts.

Let us tell stories of their little kicks that began as flatters in our bellies, their little hands and little feet that we did not get enough of, their beautiful smiles that melted our hearts, let us tell it all.

Great things can happen when we tell stories,

Do you have a story of your angel, Gone too soon ?
Write to me on muqamispeaks@gmail.com
Facebook : Mukami R. Mwaura
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Making a Comeback !

Well, it’s been a few months since I logged on and boy did, I miss you all !! Yes, I am here! I really can’t explain a lot about why I went under, all I can say is that I found myself in a bad place all of a sudden. After having done so well in a lot of months I did not think depression would kick in after the progress I had made. I felt like life was giving me blow after blow and I had to take a step back.

So, I decided to take a step back, to honor my low moments, to acknowledge that grieving does not entirely end. I took time to heal and prioritized on self-care; I took time to lose weight which was weighing me down, I took time to celebrate myself and my wins. I took time to hang out with my family and laugh my heart out with well-meaning friends, I sang and danced in my car (I still do), shopped for and wore clothes that brought me joy, I went for photo shoots, meditated, still journaled and took time to cultivate experiences that were more relaxing, recharging and revitalizing for myself.

I took time to meet me again.

I have meet so many people who told me how much my blog helped them in their time of grief and loneliness, I was humbled beyond words to know hear this. I also realized that a lot of people are going through tough times especially when it comes to infant loss and raising up preemies. I also felt guilty for not being consistent in my writing but I am here now! I am here to hold your hand and help you walk this journey, as I walk it myself.

I have prepared a list of afew topics that I would love to share in the next couple of weeks that I pray will be a blessing to someone out there. This is me reaching out to you my awesome readers. Share on the topics that you would love to read about on this blog. Your kind thoughts, comments and encouragement always give me the strength to share my experiences.

To join in the conversation, write to me on muqamispeaks@gmail.com
Facebook : Mukami R. Mwaura
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Twitter : @MuQami_Mwaura

VALUE OF SILENCE

Most of us don’t like silence, because it forces us to confront ourselves. And sometimes what we find staring back is emptiness.

We’re also afraid of silence, because we equate silence with insignificance. We want to be heard and seen. We want to make ourselves relevant. We want to be somebody in the eyes of others.

The desire to make ourselves feel relevant can be very strong. But in our quest to be heard and noticed and thought well of by others we often drown out our inner voice.

We’re constantly in search of something we already have. We already have everything we truly need within us. The peace we seek is not out there somewhere. It’s in the here and now, in this moment, within us.

If you want to know yourself, turn off the T.V., the radio, the internet and the running dialogue in your head. Go to a quiet place and spend time alone. This is where you’ll meet yourself. This is where you’ll learn what’s truly important to you.

While sitting in silence we can hear and see things we otherwise wouldn’t, and our desires become few and simple. We find our inner voice of contentment and realize that we’re already everything we need to be. Silence helps bring us back to a place of rest and clarity within, away from the noise of the world.

Guard this space in your schedule. It’s more important than anything you do, because it’s from there that you’ll find the strength, purpose and self-composure to be a better person for yourself and for others.

Like sleeping, brushing your teeth, eating, going to work and exercise, we need time for silence in our day. We need time in our day to cultivate silence so we can bring it with us into our daily actions and live with a sense of peace, even in the midst of stressful circumstances.

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The Art of the Kenyan Political Wife Part 1

Last time I wrote I talked about finding my happy place, My Idea of a happy place is accepting life as it is and learning to live with my pain. It was all about recreating a happier mental picture and finding the everyday beauty. Well my days are better, I laugh more, I have travelled and I have been reading more. I still have my bad days but honestly, I am happier. It is always nice to sometimes stop and try to live in the moment; a wise lady recently told me that I should not deny myself the low moments, I should accept them, ride the wave and they soon pass away. When we fight the low moments to force ourselves to be okay we tend to get frustrated. Treat the low moments like a visitor, with acceptance knowing soon they will be gone.

Well, for the longest time people have asked me how it feels to be married to a politician, I feel the like political wives are the most misunderstood people around. Disclaimer though, am not an expert. well it’s been about 4 years now. Any political spouses out there who feel they have an addition or feel some certain way about the topic please do write to me. we can keep it anonymous.

When I met my husband, he was already in politics working as an advisor in the office of the prime Minister. I could tell he was going to be active in national politics but I could never have guessed it would be that soon. We took a break shortly after that and life continued for both of us. By then Working at transparency international for the Governance and Policy Programme meant that politics was part of our core business and parliament was one of the institutions we worked with for institutional strengthening and legislative development.

Fast forward to 2014 when we rekindled our romance he was already very active in national politics and I became a political wife. What I never expected was the attention we got around the engagement, wedding and other activities we did that a normal couple does. However, the worst part was being trolled on social media, the snide comments I got from my friends and even family and of course the uncertainty in people’s faces. Of course, there was the obvious issue of the fact that my husband has albinism. To be honest that was never an issue for me so it is not something I would discuss or explain. I was of course afraid of the expectations that came with being a political spouse, expectations that I was not ready to live with and still working on.

My Oxford Dictionary defines a politician as “person engaged or interested in politics” and politics as “science and art of government; political affairs or life or principles etc.” Politics consists of “social relations involving authority and power”. A politician is defined as one who is actively involved in politics or one who holds or seeks a political office. A politician is an individual who is involved in influencing public policy and decision making in government. Politicians are ideally the voices of the people who work hard to improve the people’s welfare. Since politicians play a major role in our everyday affairs it therefore explains the interest in their lives beyond their offices and this includes their families and of course the person they have for a life partner.

We live in a patriarchal society and unfortunately the rules of patriarchy dominate the family; political couples are not an exception. Based on this a political wife is expected to take the back banner and play the role, of a supportive role. I am happy to know numerous wives of politicians who are winning in different spheres of life; I know auditors, magistrates, awesome lawyers (hi Clare), awesome business people just to mention a few. The expectations that political wives face is an impossible set, be pretty but no too pretty, be stylish but not uppity, quit your job, be a people person but not controversial, support your husband regardless. Sometimes people may associate being a political wife with glamour and wealth, others associate them with living in the shadows of your husband well others associate being a political wife with the scandalous side of life, mistresses and various disgraces. Well some of this is true, most of it is wrong.

One thing I know about political wives is that they are women with inner strength, courage and determination that makes then an awesome partner to a politician. However, there is always the reservation on the uncertainty of a politician’s life and career. The hardest thing about being a political spouse is being aware of the fact the politicians calling of service to humanity will always come first. Something that I have slowly learnt and am trying to accept; being married to my husband; that life with a great man is sometimes life without him. And sometimes most times they never really pretend that you will have special claim to his time and attention but this is not say you are unwanted NO. The greatest thing is that when he turns his attention on you, you will have no doubt in his intentions.

To join in the conversation, write to me on muqamispeaks@gmail.com
Facebook : Mukami R. Mwaura
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Finding My Happy Place

Hallo,

To my awesome readers,

I have to begin by appreciating your wonderful messages of condolences, comfort and love. Many times when I have a bad day I come back to this blog to read all your encouraging words. 2017 was not a very good year, I went in and out of depression a couple of times but I thank God for a supportive husband, family and friends that helped me through those trying times. I had to come to terms with child loss which is not easy.

This year am trying to find my happy place, I use the term ‘trying’ because am not even sure what that really means. I am trying to find my smile again; I am trying to get to a place where I can be my best. I am trying to learn to accept my grief and to live with it.  I am learning to wear my pain and work with it. I am trying to work on me, being better person, a better wife, daughter sister and friend; being an awesome mum to my wonderful son so look out for my motherhood adventures. 2018 is dedicated to following my dreams unapologetically. Learning new things, finding new passions and travelling more 🙂 ….

For the longest time I wanted to do a blog, even before 2017 but I was always afraid of failure. As Paulo Coelho writes fear of defeats is one of the greatest obstacles to pursuing our dreams. He further writes that when we begin to pursue our dreams, it’s difficult because we have no experience so we end up making many mistakes but patience is key. This year am taking that leap of faith to pursue my dreams and hoping I get better while finding my happy place.

Last but not least is send lots of love to everyone who has read this blog, shared it on any platform and for your loving and encouraging messages. Thank you so much. It is my hope and prayer that you will continue to find the blog as informative and as interesting as ever.

Join me for this crazy ride… Finding my happy place…

Baby Mwaura Jr. ; Remembering my brave Fighter

As I approach my son’s birthday my heart is very conflicted. It should be a day of thanksgiving, I ought to look forward to the day my baby turns 1 but I have a lot of mixed emotions. I am so proud of Njiru, for the far he has come and for the way he makes us happy; for all the joy he has brought to our lives. I can never imagine life without my precious little miracle but at the same time I am filled with sadness. Remembering that I delivered 3 children on 19th January 2017. My baby girl and baby boy are already gone. They were too special for earth. Today I choose to talk about my first born son Mwaura Maigua Mwaura Jr. He arrived at 10.10am weighing 1.2 kg. He was the eldest and the biggest in weight. At that time we thought he had the best chances of survival compared to the others. Mwaura Jr lived with us for 76 days; when Njeri passed on the second day we were beyond ourselves with grief…. For the longest time I did not think it was true. I knew people who had lost children but I never thought it would happen to me . Even today having taken a few months off from writing this blog I am still overcome by emotion and my eyes fill with tears as I write.

When my daughter left the doctor who was hoping to get some milk from me decided to put my babies  on a little formula and glucose to give me time to overcome the stress but I knew I had to pull myself together . I had the Cs wound which was super painful; For some reason none of the painkillers seemed to be working for me including the injections; I had just lost a baby and I had two precious boys in the NICU who really needed me. I decided to put all my attention on my two boys … I decided to pull myself together try and get some milk for  them and most importantly have hope .They needed hope and faith from me . One of the things that really help babies in the Nicu is a positive attitude from their parents and faith in them …faith that they will fight and hope that they will leave the NICU.

I eventually got some milk for them and I tried to focus on them. It was very difficult walking through the NICU daily, several times a day and seeing the little children come in …Some who only stayed for a few hours  and watching some graduating from NICU to the main nursery . I honestly feel like NICU nurses have seen a lot. The little babies do not look pretty, they are tiny, veins are visible and they look pale. Sometimes it’s hard to explain what they even look like…

Mwaura Jr lived with us for 76 days; these are days I hate to think about. Baby Njiru was doing well … he was steadily making his steps…. not to say he did not struggle but he seemed to be having an easier time. He was successfully removed from the ventilator with no issues …he moved on quickly to using oxygen and slowly went on from oxygen to just being a cartoon in the incubator. Making funny poses and being in a relaxed mood all the time. At some point he was the fattest in the NICU weighing 1350g …trust me in the NICU this is a big baby….

Mwaura Jr seemed to be having a harder time. All this time he kept developing complication after complication. His lungs were not strong and after some point we were introduced to a condition called the chronic lung Disease. My baby Mwaura Jr was resuscitated over 20 times … by the time all this was happening, he had obtained severe brain damage. Later, after a CT scan at around day 70, we came to realise he had also been born with a brain condition which needed urgent surgery. At this point due to his chronic lung disease, the neurosurgeon and other doctors advised that an surgery could not be done at the moment since his lungs were too weak to hold general anaesthesia. He had been on and off life support for too long …he was not growing … he kept being suctioned several times a day to clear the blockage in his lungs. Mwaura Jr rarely smiled, the few times he did it was just heavenly. I watched him cry a lot…..Struggling with the pipes ….fighting the many tubes and even fighting the doctors and the nurses. Mwaura Jr was a fighter .When Baby Njiru cries…. he reminds me a lot of Mwaura Jr …so I sometimes I just let him cry for a minute longer, maybe two minutes longer for me to see Mwaura Jr ; that his memory is not lost to me.

Waking up on 5th April morning I received a call that I had seen coming …I had expected the call for a while based on Mwaura Jrs’  condition but I could never be ready for it . It was a call asking me to go to hospital ,they could not tell me what was wrong on phone …they were not ethically allowed to …but I knew …I knew my baby had gone to be with the Lord .By now Njiru had come home… so I quickly dressed and started driving towards the hospital but I couldn’t . My mum called me and asked me to stop. My husband also asked me to park by the road side. The 5 minutes I waited seemed to be an eternity but eventually my husband arrived and we went to hospital.

My heart was broken; my baby’s incubator was covered with a white cloth; as we got into the NICU, all the nurses were hugging me and telling sorry. My baby was gone. My little fighter was gone. He had fought really long and tough fights. The only thing I regret was not being with him on his last day…. but I know we gave him our best. All I want is to celebrate the little champion ….he left a big mark in all our hearts….. Most importantly he taught us that sometimes it’s not about finishing first …it’s about giving the race your best.

My baby girl was too Beautiful for Earth

My Dear Readers ,

I am back, sorry for being away for a while; I have been dealing with several issues. See grieving is very personal; there is no formula for how one should grieve. For me coming to terms with reality has been very difficult. Some days I wake up full of energy, full of gratitude for seeing another and full of joy in my heart. On these days I will go out , play with my son , I will meet with my clients ( I am currently running my fashion house) and I will make time to go for a cup of coffee with a friend  or two . Other days I will wake up with a heavy heart, I am sad and overwhelmed with sorrow, on these days I will hardly leave my bed or eat anything. On these days I will hardly have the energy to even have a phone conversation. On these days I will terribly miss my babies , I will remember the doctor trying to resuscitate my beautiful baby girl , I will remember the days I spent on the bed side of my handsome baby boy . I will ask myself if I should have done more for my children , I will wonder if I am doing enough for my baby Njiru ; I will feel guilty for not being able to carry my babies to term . These gloomy days have been more than my happy days of late and that is why I have been away. In the beginning I told you that this blog meant for me heal as well as to encourage somebody else going through a similar situation, I may not write a post every week but I promise to write whenever I have the strength to do so.

I could not sit down to edit this post because it bears very painful memories. There are memories about my time in hospital and the whole experience that I have purposely chosen not to revisit because they are too agonizing. Every time I remember the 21st of January my heart breaks into a thousand pieces. Saying goodbye to my baby girl who I had only met for a few hours crushes me .I remember her beautiful lifeless body on my hands .Even then I knew she would have been a very beautiful baby lady.

Last week I celebrated my birthday , on this day my son decided to be very clingy and at the same time bubbly and I thought to myself it’s not all bad . I have a wonderful miracle who reminds me every day that GOD IS STILL ON THE THRONE.

Having met my children on Thursday night … I was totally distraught. We prayed at the bedside of each baby with my husband before I went off to bed. At this point I just looked forward to taking them home, that is the only thought I could have. They were hooked to so many machines it was hard to see them. I went back to my bed and I was given a sedative to help me sleep. My sister and mum were still at the hospital even at this time My mum was tired but seeing me in tears from the NICU broke her. I could tell she wanted to look strong for me. The following weeks my mother would come the hospital everyday looking tired, confused and helpless. I now feel her pain because it truly hurts to see your child suffering and there is nothing you can do or say to make it better.

 

On 21st January was a Saturday the doctor came to inform me that triplet 2(Njiru) and triplet 3 (Njeri) needed blood transfusion. This was a bit scary though he told me it usually happens for preemies. I went into the NICU to greet my babies and to give a blood sample for the cross matching. I was still in a lot of pain so I did not stay for long. I went into the breastfeeding room to try n express some milk for the babies. The room was full of ladies who were also going through the same; their children were in the NICU. It was encouraging to hear that their babies were improving. Later the breastfeeding room would become my safe haven .A room where we would find so much comfort, where we would cry together and laugh together. A room where I found friends who have become sisters to me .

Like I mentioned earlier Memories of the first days in hospital are a bit lost to me. I was in a state of confusion and disarray. I did not understand what was happening …I would stare blankly for hours without movement sometimes I would walk the hospital halls up and down without being aware I was doing this. At around 4pm my friends came over to visit together with my sister. Then a NICU nurse came in at around 5 to tell me that triplet 3 (Njeri) was not doing well. At this point I asked my sister to ask my friends to give me a minute as I talked to the nurse. My husband was on his way to hospital by then…. I was scared and I began to say a little prayer only for the nurse to come back shortly and ask me to go to NICU. The doctor had asked to see me. At this point I panicked. Now the NICU is not a good place but another scary thing about NICU is having a nurse come to pick you up from your  bed or the breastfeeding room. Usually it meant something is happening, and that something is most likely not good.

So the nurse helped  me to the NICU where I found the neonatologist and a paediatrician attending to my baby. She was so tiny and the machines around her were too many. I can’t explain exactly what was going on but it was a horrific sight. The doctors were trying to stabilise her. At this point they explained that she had bled from the lungs _the doctor gave some other details but up to this day I do not remember what he said. All I know is at 6pm her heart stopped beating. My baby girl had gotten her angel wings. I watched her inhale her last breathe. I never got the opportunity to hold her when she was alive  … or to tell her how much I loved her. I never got the opportunity to tell my baby girl that she was the most beautiful girl in the world. I never got to see my baby gal smile. By now my husband had arrived. We were now holding each other crying. How do you say goodbye to your own child? How do you say goodbye to a baby that you only met a few hours ago. A dark cloud covered the earth to mourn my baby girl. My baby girl was gone. My Baby Girl had gone to meet the Lord. My baby girl was too beautiful for earth.

How Preemie Moms Are Chosen 

by Erma Bombeck

Did you ever wonder how the mothers of premature babies are chosen? .

Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth, selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation.

As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger. “Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew. Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia.
Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint…give her Gerard. He’s used to profanity.”

Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles. “Give her a preemie. ”

The angel is curious. “Why this one, God? She’s so happy.”

“Exactly,” smiles God.

“Could I give a premature baby a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel.”

“But does she have the patience?” asks the angel.

“I don’t want her to have too much patience, or she’ll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she’ll handle it. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I’m going to give her has a world of its own. She has to make it live in her world, and that’s not going to be easy.”

“But Lord, I don’t think she even believes in you.” God smiles. “No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect She has just the right amount of selfishness.”

The angel gasps, “Selfishness?! Is that a virtue?” God nods.

“If she can’t separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn’t know it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see– ignorance, cruelty, prejudice– and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.”

“And what about her Patron Saint?” asks the angel, his pen poised in the air.

God smiles. “A mirror will suffice.”