Reading the latest Ombre e Luci, I find myself reliving my life's journey—and only now do I see its meaning and find answers to so many things that happened. My husband has walked a parallel path through all of this.
We had six children, two of whom were miscarriages, and today we are deeply grateful for our family. But when Daniele, our second son, began to regress at fifteen months—losing everything he had gained—suffering hardened my heart and confused my mind, even as we followed a path of faith. I was desperate. The world was collapsing around me. I could not make sense of what was happening. I could not understand why God had given me a son who was born healthy, only to watch him, for no apparent reason, lose his speech, his independence, his awareness of danger—a son who remained genetically and physically "intact."
It is not easy to find balance when you are fighting a nameless disease: you do not know what stage it is in, how it will progress, or where it will lead. My deepest despair lay in seeing everything in what was happening—everything except God's love. But the Lord, as always, is faithful and merciful. He does not rush us. And through the help of the Church, He shed light on that story. I began to see, and to find in my suffering His sufferings. I began to see Daniele with different eyes. Daniele has taught me many things and is a reason for my conversion: to learn to remain in His will, in silence as Daniele remains. Daniele accepts with a smile whatever you do for him.
Read also: And I Thought It All Over Again
I learned to place myself before Daniele as Martha and Mary placed themselves before Jesus—in service—and to see him as a gift of the love the Lord has for us.
Naturally, in all this suffering, I no longer wanted to have more children. But today I see clearly how the Lord was clearing the path that would lead me to Him, how He was taking me in His arms and consoling me in His love.
At a catechesis session on family and openness to life, I heard those words speaking to my own life. They spoke to me of love—of love in spousal self-giving, of what it means to "give life." I remember how those words reached my heart simply and truly, breaking down all my barriers. And as I abandoned myself to the love of Jesus, I entered into a deep peace, free from fear or oppression.
A few months later, I joyfully received the news that the Lord was giving us another child. Chiara, our first daughter, said that "the Lord had answered her prayers," and we lived through that pregnancy and the others with some fear, but certain that we were not alone—the Lord was with us. A gynecologist, Prof. Noia, helped me greatly. He always encouraged me and supported me through my "psychological weaknesses"—another angel the Lord placed on my path.
I have tried to compress the story of my life as much as possible, as an introduction to share with you, the Fede e Luce family, some thoughts on abortion—a most delicate and deeply personal subject.
I have lived through two miscarriages: it is profound suffering. Abortion is not a solution. Let me explain: it can happen that life does not go as we would wish. The solution is not to eliminate the problem but to seek the right help to face it. Had I undergone amniocentesis and all the prenatal tests during my pregnancy with Daniele, they would have given me no indication of any problem: Daniele was born healthy! No suffering at birth! But reality changed without any intervention, and Daniele is what he is. Only our awareness of what Daniele signifies was changed.
The choice is ours: to remain in suffering and allow ourselves to be crushed and excluded from life, or to let God help us and transform it into a reason for blessing and praise. In life's journey, we never know what awaits us around the corner. We are only able to understand the things that happen to us much later, and usually only after enormous suffering. Today, looking at my life, my children, and my husband—with Daniele continuing to look at me happily (I always seem to "hear" his voice: "thank you, I'm glad to be here"), and Emanuele and Benedetta who drive me to despair (though they are only doing their "job") but who bring so much life to our home—I ask myself: what if I had listened to my despair and given in to it?
Annamaria Manfucci, 2006
