22 posts tagged family
I’m about to tell you a story that will make you believe in miracles. It doesn’t matter who you pray to (or don’t). It doesn’t matter how skeptical you are of luck and chance and the serendipitous nature of things. All of that is about to change.
My mom calls me her miracle baby. And I am. After an entire decade wrought with constant pain and endless miscarriages, I stuck around through a full term. And then some, actually. I guess I needed a wee bit longer to bake. So I arrived, at noon on September 29th, 1986, as my mom and dad’s miracle. Over a dozen miscarriages and a number on Catholic Charities’ wait list later, I stuck it out and made it to the delivery room to meet them for the first time. My great uncle, Jack, claims he named me. Christina Marie Griffin. Plain enough for quite the miracle I was. But whatever.
Then there were more miscarriages. Twins that I was so proud to meet one day. But there were two other miracles, too. I call them Bud Mud Bud and Sister. They call me Ten Pen Ten. Together we make up the Griffin Trifecta Miracle (which I just coined right at this very moment in history). There’s over a dozen others of us that just weren’t strong enough to make it that we’ll never know. But I guess three miracles were really plenty for one lifetime, right?
This upcoming weekend we celebrate Mother’s Day and I’ll be celebrating not only because I love my mom, but because she’s the strongest woman I know and she fought tirelessly to be a mom at all.
Today Jenni prompted us to discuss the thing we are most afraid of. You know what I’m most afraid of? I’m ghastly terrified that I won’t have the same enduring strength and courage as my mom to fight for my own little miracles. The silliest part is that I may not have to wait a whole decade like my mom. Hopefully, at least. It doesn’t really matter. I’m afraid, so there.
But now you all believe in miracles and that’s all we ever really needed in life was to believe. We make our own destinies, but it surely doesn’t happen without a positive outlook. I know plenty of women who have already met their miracles. I also know plenty of women who are slowing dying a bit every time their miracle disappears yet again. And this all scares me so much.
Sometimes the scariest, toughest, most terrifying things are those things that are made up of the fibers and fabrics of what’s worth the most value.
Except snakes. I’m just plum out afraid of snakes.