Why I Burst Into Tears While Co-Hosting EWTN’s March for Life Coverage

It’s been reported that one of EWTN’s co-hosts of the March for Life broke down in tears during the network’s live coverage of the 50th March for Life in Washington, D.C.

Spoiler alert: It was me.

And wow, what an exercise in humility this has been. Truly, it’s embarrassing to break down in ugly tears during an event that’s broadcast across the globe (all I could see was the unflattering double-chin profile shot!), while trying to do my job. I consider myself a professional, trained in television production and experienced in on-camera work.

But the more time I’ve had to reflect on the moment, the more I realized it had to happen. You can’t talk about abortion without considering the inhumanity of the crime – that abortion kills an unborn child. It snuffs out a life. And it profoundly hurts a woman, whether she realizes it at first or not.

And you can’t talk about stopping abortion without recognizing the magnitude of what’s already been lost – over 60 million babies (that we know of) in America, and many more globally. Tens of millions of mothers, fathers, families have been forever changed, and not for the better.

If we’re not all devastated, in tears, by this, we’re not paying attention.

For me, this emotion-evoking post hits closer to home. In mid-2018, when I was 14 weeks pregnant, I woke up one morning to a gush of blood. I was home alone with our 2-year-old, and at first couldn’t get ahold of Dave.

It was the scariest moment of my life. The only prayer I could muster in that moment was, “St. Joseph, St. Anthony, please don’t let me lose my baby.”

And I remember bargaining with St. Anthony, “If you save my baby, I will name them after you.”

My friend, who had experienced a miscarriage of her own, came over and watched our daughter while I drove myself to the hospital, sobbing the entire time.

I sat in the waiting room, sobbing the entire time.

I waited for the ultrasound, sobbing the entire time.

And then, the ultrasound – they found the heartbeat!

I remember the doctor, who wasn’t my Ob-Gyn, somberly telling me, “I’m not going to tell you it’s going to be OK, because it might not be.”

Thanks, Doc.

From there, we didn’t stop praying. We found out we were having a boy, but only so we could pray for our child by name – Anthony. “St. Anthony, protect our Anthony. St. Anthony, don’t let us lose our Anthony.”

And the prayers were answered. On January 2, our sweet Anthony David was born, healthy, cuddly, and safe.

Our Anthony is now four years old, full of energy and zest for life. He’s a comic. He’s a genius. He’s an absolute joy. He loves playing with blocks, cars, trains, Legos, and dinosaurs.

So you can see how, while attempting to read aloud that Instagram post, I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to not have Anthony – and all of his wonder that would have been lost. Of course I’m going to cry!

And what a reminder it’s been to me about the way I view the everyday moments with my children: my children are a gift, and for all the ways I grieve the children lost to abortion, I also must rejoice in my children in my midst.

The little blocks and figurines sprinkled around our house are not stumbling blocks, but holy reminders of these precious gifts.

The scores of pages of paintings and drawings that cover our home make up their own sort of storybook, archiving the little milestones our children hit in their development.

And the crumbs and chunks of food that seem to grow out of the kitchen floorboards are a reminder that the little babies I used to nurse are now growing in strength and size, growing into the great saints God made them to be.

I want you to have the same mindset when it comes to your children and the little messes that happen in the home. I know it’s hard. I know it’s a lot to keep up with, but I hope this prayer, which is included in “The Prayer Book for Tired Parents,” will serve as an occasion to thank God for the wonderful blessings He’s given us in and through our children:

St. Martin de Porres, the housework never really ends, does
it? Help me find joy and satisfaction in the work I do to
keep up my home. As I sweep the floors, help me to give
thanks for the feet that walk along them. As I wash the
dishes, help me to give thanks for the mouths that eat from
them. As I dust the shelves, help me to give thanks for the
faces in the photos that grace them. As I fold the clothes,
help me to give thanks for the people who wear them. As
I pick up the toys, help me to give thanks for my children,
who play with them. Amen.

Jesus, protect and save the unborn!

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