Hail Mary

Let me start off with a disclaimer:

I am not a religious person. At all. I was raised Catholic, and went through the whole dog and pony show...first communion, confirmation, Catholic School...the whole works. But I never truly believed any of it. Being Catholic, to me, was just part of who my family was, like being Italian or the fact that we were all Cubs fans. It wasn't until college (a Catholic school, mind you) that I started to realize I could choose my spiritual identity, and maybe this whole thing wasn't for me. Hey, I think Jesus was a great man and everything, and the Bible definitely has some great lessons in it, but as far as organized religious institutions go, well you can count me out.

That said, I have to admit to a recent religious experience I had, for lack of a better term.

When Stacey and I were in New York in November for our little weekend getaway, I had a few spare hours while Stacey had to put in some face time at a conference (the whole reason we were there, actually). I decided to stroll around Manhattan taking pictures of things that caught my eye. I got lots of cool snapshots of cab drivers, hot dog vendors, $5 Prada purse "salesmen"...you know all the great "New York-y" stuff. Along my stroll, I stopped at St. Patrick's Cathedral. Having never been inside, I was curious. One thing about the Catholic Church...as corrupt and backwards as it may be, you cannot deny the beauty of their houses of worship.

I wandered through the cathedral, which was breathtakingly beautiful. I loved all the statues of saints, the candles, the kneelers, the marble. I took as many pictures as I could without being disruptive to the people there to actually pray. I worked my way to the front and saw a sign that said "No photographs beyond this point", and saw a little chapel-like area, with several people sitting (or kneeling) in pews, facing a large statue of the Virgin Mary.

Now, as a recovering Catholic, I've always been a big fan of Mary. In fact, the only "Catholic" thing I still do is say 3 Hail Mary's every time I'm in a plane about to take off. Although that maybe more superstitious than religious, but whatever. So, perhaps I was just overcome by the sheer beauty of my surroundings, or the lovely serenity of the whole thing, but I put my camera away, took off my coat, quietly sat down in a pew and began to pray, for the first time in about 20 years.

Knowing that we would be inseminating a week later, getting pregnant was the only thing on my mind. So, of course, that's what I prayed about. I just sat there, silently talking to Mary about how much I wanted to be a mother, how ready I was to be a mother. I talked about how hard I knew it would be, that it would be the toughest job of my life, but I wanted the chance to try. I talked about how much Stacey and I loved each other, and wanted to love and raise a child. I talked about how much Mary loved Jesus and how I wanted the chance to love a child like that. By the time I was through, I realized I had been crying. I quickly made the sign of the cross, wiped my eyes, and got up to leave.

When I turned to leave the chapel, I immediately noticed a large statue of Elizabeth, holding a baby. As I am not up on my bible stories as much as I should be, I stopped to read the placard explaining the story. Elizabeth, it turns out, was visited by Mary when she was pregnant.

Now I'm not a big believer in "signs" or "omens", but that moment resonated with me, and it took me all day to stop thinking about it.

And I'm not saying it WAS a sign or anything, but hey, 2 1/2 weeks later we found out we were pregnant.

I'm not saying, I'm just saying.