We were sixteen weeks pregnant with our first child when we went to have our ‘routine’ prenatal ultrasound. They noticed fluid on the brain, holes in the heart and a short femur. No one knew what all of that meant; but we were encouraged to investigate things further. We were put in touch with a High Risk Obstetrician and a Genetic Counselor. We were told it could be nothing, it could be an infection, or it might be something genetic. That same day, we had a level II ultrasound and agreed to have an amniocentesis. It could take up to two weeks to receive the results.

Immediately after our appointments, we drove to the Cathedral where we had been married less than a year prior. We cried and we prayed. We asked God to help us make sense of all of the information we had heard, and also to calm our hearts while we waited for the results.

Ten days later, I received a call at work telling me that our child had Down syndrome. My doctor told me that he was obligated to inform us that we only had two weeks to decide if we would be aborting. Fortunately this was one of the very topics we discussed, and had agreement on during our pre-Cana weekend. I made it very clear to the doctor that it was not even a consideration. When I hung up the phone, I tried to reach my husband but there was no answer. While I was sitting in my office, in shock, the feeling that I needed to be doing something came over me. Suddenly it popped into my mind that I to call the bishop!

At the time, we lived in a large diocese in North Carolina. Now, I reflect, the bishop was quite a busy man. Did we know the bishop? No. We had seen him several times at mass, as it was his home Cathedral. Unfortunately, the priest who married us had been reassigned to another city, out of our area. I called the bishop and his secretary told me he was unavailable. I explained in great detail the purpose of my call. She said she would pray for us, and took my name and phone number. Soon after, my husband returned my phone call and I told him of our baby’s diagnosis – he planned to leave work and come get me right away. But when we hung up, the phone rang again. Imagine my surprise; it was the bishop, himself! He wanted to meet with us right away!

He spoke with us, encouraged us and led us in prayer. He spoke with us about the power of prayer and the Rosary, and asked us if we prayed it regularly. Neither of us did. When we left, we committed to praying the Rosary together every night.

We felt shocked, scared, overwhelmed, fearful, and ill-equipped. We were sad that our dreams for this baby were not going to unfold as we had planned. We tried to get our hands on every resource available to educate us about children with Down syndrome. We contacted our local Down syndrome group, and arranged to meet with one of the members and her two-year-old daughter. They came to our house, and within minutes we were certain that "we could do this!” She was beautiful, smart, funny and entertaining. Meeting her in person gave me HOPE.

My prior knowledge of individuals with Down syndrome had been memories of children in my grade school, who were mostly kept out of sight. From school age into adulthood, I had no recollection of seeing people with Down syndrome in my community. But after receiving the Down syndrome diagnosis, I saw individuals with Down syndrome all over the place. And in sharing our story, people would often respond with, ‘my sister’, ‘my uncle’, ‘the girl across the street’, ‘my friend’s grand-daughter’, has Down syndrome. There was a world of resources and support for us.

The Rosary helped us in so many ways. It solidified our united front. It deepened our Faith. It brought the Gospel to life. We realized raising a child with Down syndrome was only a small change, compared to the sacrifice Jesus had made. We stopped asking God to change our son, but to prepare us.

In addition, for the first time in my life, I began receiving the Blood of Christ at Holy Communion regularly. My thought was that I wanted Jesus’ blood to run through my body, and my unborn child’s body. I was certain this would ‘heal’ the other health issues he had.

For the remainder of my pregnancy we had level II ultrasounds frequently. They were mostly concerned about the fluid on the brain and the holes in the heart. At my last ultrasound, they check the fluid on his brain to see if his head would be too big for me to deliver him naturally. They also were looking at the holes in his heart, to see if they need to perform surgery after his birth. The fluid was gone and two of the holes in the heart had closed! The doctors were surprised, and could not explain it. I truly look upon this as a Eucharistic miracle.

On August 10, 1997 our son Dominic Michael was born. He was the first grandchild for both sides of our families. We were grateful for the months to educate and prepare ourselves, our families and our friends. I believe that my birth experience was much like that of most first time moms. We were all anxious and excited to finally meet him!

The feast day for St. Dominic is August 8. St. Dominic had a great devotion to the Mother of God, and she used St. Dominic to inspire others to know and follow the one true Lord Jesus Christ, through devotion to the Holy Rosary.