A Little Perspective

Weeping Willow, Claude Monet

“We think no one should have to plan their baby’s funeral.  But we are one of the first and only societies to think that.”

These were some of the most profound words that the neonatologist said to us last week.  I had actually been thinking about this fact since we first found out how likely it was that we would lose Arthur almost 3 months ago.  Now just seems like a more appropriate time to share these thoughts.

I’m very thankful that so many people are deeply saddened with me knowing that Arthur will not live for very long.  I’m thankful for the pity, the tears, the sympathy.  After all, I've been tempted to believe that this is a burden no one can or should have to bear.  But I am wrong.  Just think with me.

Think of the billions of women for thousands of years, who lost, by most estimates, 25-30% of their babies under a year old.  If you crunch the numbers, this means you would have been hard-pressed to find a woman who had NOT lost a child.  Weep with me, but weep with our great-great-great grandmothers as well.

Think of the millions of women in developing countries today who still lose 10-20% of their babies under a year old.  They are not just a picture in National Geographic or the BBC World News.  Grieve with me, but grieve with them also.

Think of birth mothers who choose to give their children in adoption.  No matter the circumstance, they had to say goodbye to their babies.  Have sympathy for me, but have sympathy for them too.

Think of all your friends who have suffered through a miscarriage or stillbirth.  Statistically, everyone reading this should know several women in this category.  They have lost children as well, and probably never had the opportunity to hold their precious baby.  My pain is real.  Their pain is just as real.

Think of women who are unable to bear children.  They grieve over the babies they may never carry, the loss of their hopes and dreams of motherhood, their "failure" to meet the expectations of family, friends, and society.  Have a tender heart toward their silent suffering.

Pain and grief can be an incredibly isolating experience.  It seems the more I believe I am alone or I am the only person who has had to suffer like this, the more likely I am to become angry, bitter, or overwhelmed.  Acknowledging that many others have had to walk this same path doesn’t diminish my sadness, but it puts the sadness into perspective.  This suffering doesn’t require me to be extra-human.  It’s a part of being human.

Scripture speaks to this principle in I Corinthians 10:13:“No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man;”

While the medical difficulties Arthur has are quite rare, I have been reminded so often in the last few months that my pain is not.  What I am going through is actually quite common to man (or woman, to be a bit more precise…).  

How precious the promise in the rest of I Corinthians 10:13 is:  “and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, so that you will be able to endure it.”

I find some comfort in the fact that literally billions of women have lived through what I will live through.  But I find even more comfort in the fact that God promises I will be able to endure whatever lies before me.  And as every preschooler we have taught in Sunday School should be able to tell you, God always keeps His promises.