We shall find our little ones again up above…

By Casey Sprehe

After finding out we were pregnant in 2016, I told my husband not to tell anyone which, for us, is weird.

For us, a part of being pro-life is telling people when we are pregnant right away, acknowledging the fullness of the person from day 1.

I was uneasy this time, though.

For the previous week had found me awake twice at night with bad dreams – both about miscarrying a baby.

I’m, in general, an anxious person, so Kevin brushed me off a bit (warranted, given my track record). But not willing to upset a hormonal wife, he acquiesced.

Two weeks later, I miscarried.

Sometimes, I get so caught up in the day-to-day of life, that I forget there is a God up there who loves me intimately and acts closely in my life. He ordained the moment to lift the veil between heaven and earth and prepare me for the loss of our baby.

During the miscarriage, I had a very strong sense of the presence of St. Benedict. We got engaged at the St. Joseph Abbey. I spent many summers there as a kid, so it wasn’t entirely foreign. I just sat with the moments when they came and asked for his intercession.

When Kevin came home from work that evening, I shared with him that God had placed the name, Benedict, on my heart. With chills on his arms, he turned to me and said, “I got the same name.”

The Benedictine motto is “ora et labora,  or in English “work and labor.” I was praying; Kevin was working.

God was intimately acting.

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