(I started off my prayers in church before mass the same way I always do [see the first post], with the added thanksgiving for a safe plane ride on Sunday for DH, who is traveling on business.)
The things that I don't necessarily subscribe to are the church's teachings on social issues, like homosexuality, contraception, and, obviously, abortion. I've always been quietly pro-choice, never vocal to anyone in my beliefs. Let's be honest: It's a divisive issue, and I don't want to get in an argument about it nor do I want to feel like I have to defend myself. And, although I support a woman's right to choose, I always thought it would never, ever be my choice. I was very wrong. Getting a catastrophic prenatal diagnosis changed all of that.
I've struggled with my choice and whether I should seek forgiveness from the priest (participate in confession) and, through the sacrament, God. I've only been to confession once, and that was so I could have first communion and confirmation. I haven't been back since. DH has probably been to confession as many times as I have, and he was raised Catholic! (Okay, that's an exaggeration, but you get the idea -- he never goes.) Every mass starts off with a moment where we ask God to forgive our sins, and in my own personal conversations with God, I've asked for forgiveness. In my mind, I've demonstrated remorse, so I don't know why I've suddenly become "Catholic" enough to want to participate in confession, when I completely flaunt other teachings of the church. Where has this "Catholic guilt" suddenly come from? The homily today at morning mass was about confession, in a sense, so I still remain intrigued by the idea of "confessing" my HC. The thing is, it was the right thing to do; I don't think I've sinned in that sense. As someone wrote on a grief board I visit for others who've made HCs: I am a good person who had no good choices. That's all I regret, that I had to make the decision, not the one that I made. I can be proud of the fact that I chose to spare my child a lifetime, if he even got that, of suffering and pain. I look at it like there was a DNR (do not resuscitate) on my child, just like there was on DH's uncle.
I don't know . . . the jury's still out.
In any case, today was a good day. Even though DH is gone for the next two weeks on business, the kids and I had a great day. DS wasn't even acting depressed (like he normally does) that DH was gone. We did a video iChat tonight before I started writing this post. Having the ability to actually talk face to face, albeit via computer, is a great thing!
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