“Ecce ancilla Domini” (I am the handmaid of God)

It was fall of 2023, and by that time I was in my second trimester. The morning sickness was gone, my energy came back, and I was able to enjoy all kinds of food. During that time, I also started to feel my little baby kicking and punching in my belly with her tiny arms and feet. Yes, we found out that our baby was a girl! As the pregnancy went along, we got to know her a little bit more day by day, like a rose bud that is slowly opening its petals, revealing its layers of beauty and sweet aroma. I watched her moving around on the display screen during her 20-week ultrasound in awe as I thought to myself “I can’t wait to see and hold her.”

Throughout the rest of my pregnancy, her daily kicks reminded me that I was carrying another life. I found myself smiling while holding my belly during office meetings, knowing that her little kicks were meant for me alone, and nobody else in the meeting room knew – it was our little secret.

Several times during my commute to and from work, my mind wondered off to the time in the future when my baby is already born. I pictured myself taking care of her, patiently, gently. I pictured myself praying the Rosary, half asleep in the middle of the night, while breastfeeding her. I imagined what joy she would bring to me and my husband. I also pictured all the strategies that I would use to keep her from any harm and lies of the modern society that will come her way – the lies of feminism, wokeism, broken relationships, bad social influences, the rise of false identities and idols, the list went on. Again and again, fear would enter my heart, because I know I will make mistakes as a parent, and some things are going to slip through my fingers.

“Lord, I can’t do this. This is too much responsibility. I am not Mary, and my husband is not Joseph. I will disappoint her, and I will disappoint You…

… I am not worthy of this gift I am receiving.”

I turned to the Blessed Mother, who never fails to understand, comfort, and inspire me. I wondered if Mary, knowing that she was entrusted to conceive Jesus the Messiah, had the same feeling of fear and unworthiness as me, if not more. If she did, she must have casted away those fears in an instant and ran towards God with the utmost trust and total confidence in His Divine Providence, which enabled her to deliver her Fiat. I am called to echo her fiat – to cast away my fears and to trust in God, knowing that God loves my baby way more than I ever possibly can.

“The remedy for fear is to trust in God”

Caryll Houselander (The Reed of God)

Contemplating on Mary’s disposition towards the annunciation, she gave me a piece of advice, or rather a sentence to hold on to, to help me walk in her footsteps: “With gratitude and humility, we receive the gift of life and call to Motherhood; with faith and courage, we receive the responsibility that comes with being a mother.”

Our responsibility as mothers starts from conception. From the moment of conception, we realize that we no longer live for ourselves, and that we have a new purpose in life. Most of the responsibilities are tied to physical health – making sure you’re eating nutrient-dense foods, getting all the vital vitamins and nutrients, and exercising regularly to encourage healthy development for your baby. Yet as Catholic Christian mothers, we know we have another responsibility to attend to from the moment of conception – spiritual responsibility.

As mothers (and fathers), our main responsibility is to get our children to heaven. Period. End of story. There is no greater responsibility than this. This responsibility is not something we can accomplish apart from God, for without Him we can do nothing. Mary knew she could not do anything apart from God; thus, she kept her eyes fixed on Him, united the intention of her heart to His heart, her will to His will. Like Mary, we can unite ourselves and our babies in the womb to God by living in the Sacraments as our daily fiat.

When Jesus was in Mary’s womb, “He was absolutely helpless; he could go nowhere but where she (Mary) chose to take Him” (Caryll Houselander, The Reed of God). Similarly, with the same helplessness, it is only as often as I go to Mass and receive the Eucharist that my baby receives the Eucharist in my womb. And it is only as often as I spend time with Jesus in the Adoration chapel that my baby is there too, adoring her Creator and Savior in silence. On one occasion during confession, when I shared with the priest that I was pregnant, he rejoiced, saying, “how fortunate it is for the baby in the womb whose mother goes to confession and receive the blessings of the Sacraments!”

God lays a great trust upon us (mothers) as He depends on us to carry our children in the womb to Him. We are His vessels. His reeds. His handmaids.

“Ecce ancilla Domini.”