The Blessed Mother

I've wanted to share my stories for a very long time, but never knew there was a place like this to share them.

It took four years and lots of treatment to become pregnant with our twins. That's why when I became pregnant 12 weeks after the birth of the twins, I couldn't have been more surprised. Nor could my husband. It was April 2000. After the initial shock was over, we settled back into the pregnancy routine, except that now I had infant twins to take care of as well. Also, I had some health issues immediately following the twins' birth, so I was extremely anxious about having a healthy baby. Maybe even more frightened since I was 36 years old, hadn't had an amniocentesis with the twins and thought that my luck might be running out and that I'd have a baby with health problems. I had already decided not to have an amniocentesis with this pregnancy, since the risk of losing the baby was higher than the probability of having a downs syndrome baby, anyway.

Then, I had a dream. A very realistic dream. The Blessed Mother came to me, she was in a light blue robe, that covered her head. I couldn't look at her face, since I sensed who she was in my dream. I was not in awe. It was something greater. I had the distinct feeling of love, and power, and humility; all at once. I heard her speak to me, not out loud, but in my mind. She said that I had to look at her; that I was a mother now and that she was only a mother, just like me. I was thinking about a response, about how she was not only just a mother, but THE MOTHER. She stopped my thoughts and lead me to what she was trying to convey. It is very troubling and I still don't understand what the images were, but I will try to explain it. She was centered in front of my visual field. She was speaking to me, telling me that she was everywhere; that a part of her was everywhere she was needed. That all one had to do was see and she was there. She said that I was having a baby boy and that I was to name him Michael; that he was going to be fine. I started crying in my dream. Not a normal cry, but a soulful, gut-wrenching cry. For when she was speaking to me, there were collages around her. Live collages of places around the world where bad things were happening. I could see in one quadrant around her that there was famine and starving children, crying. In another quadrant, there was fire and devastation. Homes were burned and people were living in the streets. In the lower two quadrants, I couldn't see very clearly, but there was war and bad people. I was very sad, but she reminded me that she would be there. She would always be there.

I had a very healthy baby boy in December 2000. His name is Michael.

Love and Peace to All,
Joyce