It really is such a simple and obvious emotional and spiritual dynamic but one that most of us are oblivious to.
For some pragmatic types, this concept might seem ridiculous but as I watched, listened and prayed with a daughter conceived after my miscarriage, it became crystal clear. A Catholic psychiatrist helped us discover that this truth was at the root of her sadness and heaviness. The death of my unborn infant during my seventh pregnancy changed the atmosphere of my womb. In a sense, because I was ignorant, my womb was still a dark place filled with the lingering shadows of death. A dramatic symbol would be that my womb was like a tomb for my next pregnancy which was Grace.
Once we asked Jesus to go back in time and shine His light all around her as she lived in my womb the burdens and shadows fell right off her.Perhaps her prenatal experience affected her so much because she is especially sensitive, intuitive and artistic.
However what made the situation even worse, was that we both almost died during this 8th pregnancy. My placenta tore, leaving a huge clot from the top of my womb to the bottom . The doctor ordered bed rest for 6 months. When I complained that I felt perfectly fine, my doctor explained that a similar situation had not occurred two years earlier, with a mother of five loosing her child and almost dying herself. The doctor had to call in the Archbishop to convince the mother that her other children needed her and to let her unborn baby die.
The words which rang in my ears and lodged in my baby’s heart as well were,” There is a cocked gun pointed at your head, ready to go off if you move. Stay in bed, laying down. Do not move.
Grace and I froze, only Grace stayed frozen, filled with fear of moving and guilt – feeling guilty that she had almost killed me. Typically, like all children she felt she was to blame. This weighed on her deep in her subconscious for twenty years till it popped up unexpectedly during family counselling and spiritual direction. Jesus set that baby free with a snap of His fingers. The changes in this young adult are unfolding slowly but miraculously because once the root is healed, emotional and spiritual growth takes on a life of its own, with God in charge behind the scenes.
“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.”
For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.
Remember that you have made me like clay; and will you return me to the dust? Did you not pour me out like milk and curdle me like cheese? You clothed me with skin and flesh, and knit me together with bones and sinews. You have granted me life and steadfast love, and your care has preserved my spirit.
Listen to me, O coastlands, and give attention, you peoples from afar. The Lord called me from the womb, from the body of my mother he named my name.