The following stories are not your typical love stories between a man and a woman. These are the stories of a deeper kind of love, that of a parent for his/her child.
The first is a story of a dad’s love for his baby. It is from Tender Fingerprints by Brad Stetson.
Again my heartbeat quickened. I felt my mouth become dry. I walked over to Nina and picked BJ up and held him tightly. I closed my eyes and squeezed him, again concentrating on the feeling.
“Oh, BJ, Daddy loves you soooo much,” I said slowly, with my eyes still closed. I felt tears coming as I held him out in front of me and kissed his forehead.
“He’s our boy, Nina,” I said to her, my voice breaking as I walked around the room with him again. Nina began to cry, her torso convulsing as she did.
“I love you, BJ,” I whispered into his perfect little ear, as I held him tight, walking over to Nina. I handed him to her, and she took him. She began weeping loudly, her whole body bouncing up and down on the bed.
“I wish he was coming home with us, Brad, I wish we could have him!” Nina said through sobs, as she turned her head to the side, closed her eyes, and pressed her cheek against BJ’s brow.
Again I was overcome by the knowledge that the time had come to say good-bye. I leaned over and kissed BJ hard, right on the top of his head. He had a clean, perfumed smell to him. I kissed Nina’s damp forehead and then quickly turned around and firmly pressed the call button.
“Yes,” an unfamiliar voice calmly answered.
“Send our nurse, please! I quickly yelled into the speaker, my voice dissolving into tears, with Nina’s cries crescendoing.
I lay over on top of BJ and Nina, hugging her as we both began wailing. Tears were flowing out from my eyes, cascading down my face, onto BJ and Nina. My stomach muscles were tightening with each breath.
“I love you, honey!” I screamed.
“I love you, I love you,” Nina choked through the tears.
About ten seconds later our nurse, Anna, rapidly knocked on the door and opened it. Immediately I forced myself up with my arms, and, still leaning over the bed, swiftly picked up BJ from under his arms, pulling him away from Nina’s suddenly strong resisting grip. … I wheeled around and shouted to the nurse, “Take him! Take him now!” … The nurse quickly wheeled him out of the room, the door closing solidly behind her.
Nina and I began screaming at the top of our lungs, inarticulate, primal shouts utterly filled with unspeakable pain. It was the ancient, indescribable anguish of soul that marks the earthly parting of mother and child, father and child. It was the deepest song of human desolation. We screamed at the top of our lungs, powerless to temper our shrieks. I remember wondering what the people in the hallway and in the other rooms must be thinking about our screams, but they were beyond our control. We were being carried along a rushing river of grief, and there was nothing we could do about it.
We lay there and cried until we could not cry anymore, our bodies completely limp and weak.
The next story is one of a mother/daughter’s shared love. It is from Safe in the Arms of God by John MacArthur.
Flo had told only her parents and one friend about her pregnancy. Rather than tell them she had miscarried, she followed up with them by saying, with as lighthearted a tone as she could, “It was a false alarm. No need to think about baby clothes!”
Flo fell silent about her pregnancy and her loss. She never mentioned the experience publicly. She never acknowledged to her two older children that she had been pregnant. It was only two years later when her grown daughter Beth lost third child through miscarriage that Flo shared with her that she had been through the same experience. Mother and daughter grew even closer in the bond of tears and loss they shared. Flo also encouraged Beth to take a very different approach from the one she had taken.
“Talk to your husband and your friends about this,” Flo advised. “Take time to mourn the loss of this little one.”
Flo confessed to her daughter, “I never really mourned the loss of this baby. My miscarriage was an embarrassment to me. I felt I had ‘failed’ God and your father in some way. It is only in the last year that I’ve come to realize the little baby I lost is still alive in heaven. That baby has a full-blown identity as a child of God, and I will see that little one again someday. In many ways, I have a great peace and joy – something I haven’t had for more than thirty years – that a part of me is already in heaven.”
Flo laughed a little when she shared with Beth, “I have named that baby Terry – which could be the name for either a boy or a girl.”
Why Terry? “Because,” Flo explained, “I have to tarry a while longer on this earth before I get to be with this child.”…
Flo experienced a great healing of her emotions when she was able to talk freely about the loss she had experienced. She and Beth were able to grieve together… In sharing their grief, they found they were also sharing their love. That is true in most situations – shared grief becomes a bond of shared love.
And, finally, the last “love” story is one of God’s great love for each of His children. It, too, is from Safe in the Arms of God.
God had a special, unique, highly personal, powerful purpose for Bethany’s life on this earth. Her life greatly influenced not only the lives of her parents and siblings, but the entire life of the church community surrounding her family. Her life touched the lives of the doctors, nurses, and other hospital workers who cared for her, as well as her neighbors and the friends she made wherever she went. Her life is touching your life today as you read her story – as it did mine while knowing her! …
The first and foremost thing we can conclude with certainty about a child is this: Every child conceived is a God-created and God-loved person with a God-given purpose and destiny.
Let your comfort begin with that truth. God created your child. God loved your child and continues to love your child. God’s purpose and destiny for your child are fulfilled perfectly, even if the child dies. The reality of that is beyond anything you can know fully this side of heaven.
Because we love our children with a strength greater than anything we can explain, grief is the normal reaction to losing them. It is not a sign of weakness or lack of faith. GRIEF IS THE PRICE WE PAY FOR LOVE! Grief causes intense sadness, anger, guilt, loneliness, depression, physical ailments, “heartache,” uncontrollable crying, and more. Grief hurts! Remember, though death comes, LOVE never goes away.
A Mother’s Love
In memory of Jason, Christopher & Ryan
By their mother, Kathy Schmucker, Louisville, OH
From I Knew You For A Moment
I didn’t have to look into your eyes
to fall in love with you.
I didn’t have to hear you cry
to know you loved me too.
I didn’t need to hold your hand
to cherish you for always.
Within my womb, we shared our hearts.
You touched my soul.
You sweetened my spirit.
You gave me memories I’ll always hold dear.
Yes, my heart aches since you departed too soon.
But a mother’s love does not end with death.
For you are my child.
Forever my love is yours.
You can help yourself through that grief by:
Acknowledge your loss.
Live through the pain of grief – do not avoid it.
Share your thoughts and feelings.
Know everyone grieves differently.
Find your sense of humor and hold on to it.
Pray for strength and healing.
Learn to hug again.
10. Acknowledge that you are someone new. Allow yourself to become that person.
If you are struggling with your grief, go through this checklist to see if you have started any or all of these.
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