The test stick she held in her shaking hand showed a distinct message – yes! The very familiar nausea was in full force and could no longer be ignored. There was no mistake. She was pregnant…again! With four children already, her hands were adequately filled with little time and much to do. Yet the discomfort in her belly brought a smile to her face. Life growing inside her. Her hands instinctively rested on her stomach. As amazing as it seemed, love for this little miracle was already nestled in the very deepest part of her heart.
Although this new revelation would represent huge change in her life and world, she was overcome by the tought of another little person in her life to love and cherish. It was what she knew she was created to do.,,be a mom. And she whispered a tearful “thank you” to God for this incredible gift.
Yet a soft voice in heart seemed to be saying, “This child will be a blessing, but you will not have him with you for very long.l” What did this mean?
The following months brought a healthy, “normal” pregnancy with all of its joys and discomforts. Doctor’s visits included encouraging words about the anticipation of a beautiful, healthy baby. But the voice?
She eagerly awaited the appointment that would include an ultrasound to tell her if this precious gift was a boy or a girl. As the technician ran the scope over her growing belly, it became clear. This sweet boy would be named Mitchell – “Who Is Like God”? and he would be loved dearly every day of his life.
The exam continued as they saw all the perfect little parts of Mitchell’s perfect little body. Sweet face. Thumb in mouth, sucking gently. Tiny ribs protecting a small but strongly beating heart. And a verse ran through her mind…Psalm 139:13-14 “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your words are wonderful.”
Everything looked perfect. Then why the continuing voice reminding her of her limited time with this sweet child? Strangely, there was a deep sense of peace that made such thoughts even conceivable. And so she trusted. And Mitchell was loved.
The remainder of her pregnancy was largely unremarkable. She got bigger and ate more ice cream than she should have. But she savored every day of this journey, and as the summer days grew hotter, she was thankful for every little kick and flutter within her. God continued to let life grow inside her. Had she been mistaken about the voice?
Then one August day, it was time. Little Mitchell was ready to make his appearance. As she poured sweat and labored, one thought invaded her mind – would he come out alive? After the excruciating pain of her contractions, she pushed only once to deliver the most beautiful, screaming, six pound boy the world had ever seen. Tears streamed down her face as she took this precious gift and cradled him in her arms, thanking God for life. And Mitchell was loved.
Still, there was a slight pit in her stomach. The voice was not silent as she had hoped would happen after the birth. She questioned the doctors, asking if they were positive everything was okay. And although they assured her that he could not be more healthy, she wondered. And she brought Mitchell home. And Mitchell was loved.
Over the course of the following days, life was full. A brother and three sisters to be introduced to and loved by. A proud daddy who wanted nothing less than to have this sweet boy resting, curled up on his chest. Doctors appointments to check all the standard procedures for newborns. Visitors coming to see this new addition to the family that captured everyone’s heart with his quiet demeanor, perfect face and cuddly little body. Yet the small voice remained. And so did the unanswered question in her heart. What did it mean? And Mitchell was loved.
One evening as Mitchell was nursing, she noticed that he was struggling for breath. It became apparent that he was having to pull away from feeding just to breathe. And the voice within seemed to roar. This was the meaning she had somehow known but feared. She raced to the hospital sobbing as she heard him in the back seat gasping for air. And Mitchell was loved.
Two hospitals and an ambulance ride later, the sweet boy was surrounded by tubes and machines that poked and prodded him and gave him breath until they could find out what was wrong. And though he was barely recognizable through all the tubes and wires. Mitchell was loved.
Immediate surgery was the only option for survival. She kissed his face as the doctors wheeled him away, asking God to hold him while she couldn’t. Family and friends gathered to encourage, pray, read scripture, sing and wait. The length of the surgery seemed almost unbearable. The unknown of the future was suffocating. She tried desperately to block out the sound of the voice. She could NOT say goodbye to this six pound piece of her soul. And as he lay on a surgeon’s table, outside the touch of his mother’s hand, Mitchell was loved.
The next 48 hours were nothing short of a terrifying roller coaster ride, with intermittent episodes of ecstasy and fear. But within two days, doctors were confident that this little trooper was on his way to a full recovery. And she thought to herself that she must have been wrong. Perhaps the voice was only the sound of a loving mother’s fear. Visitors continued to come and thank God for the miracle of this baby boy and his life. And Mitchell was loved.
It was lunchtime and another familky friend entered the ICU. The friend held his tiny hand in her own as she prayed. The sweet quietness of that moment was suddenly interrupted by the horrific beeping of every machine hooked up to this little body. Something was wrong. Her friend held her as her world began to spin. Medical staff swarmed around him as they shouted out instructions of “code blue”. And in all the confusion, commotion and fear of working to save his life, Mitchell was loved.
They whisked her away to a private room where friends and family waited while doctors performed CPR. Urgent prayers mixed with violent tears went up to God to beg for his life. Panic filled the room. And then the most unexpected, almost ridiculous thing happened. She was surrounded by what clearly felt like the warmest blanket of peace. She was filled with the deepest , calmest sense of knowing God’s presence. And the same voice that whispered in her ear that her sweet baby would be a blessing with limited time on this earth, spoke again. And He seemed to say, “It’s time for him to come home now.” And she felt the arms of God as he scooped up this sweet boy that captured her heart. Tears streamed as she told him goodbye and kissed his precious face one last time. And as he went from her arms to the arms of Jesus, Mitchell was loved.
And she again recalled the passage in Psalm 139:13-16 – “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful. I know that full well. My frame was not hiddent from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” And she knew that though his days on earth were limited, the ongoing impact of his life’s story was not. Over the course of the following years God brought others across her path who were walking a similar road, experiencing the same journey of pain. Some would see happy endings, others would suffer great loss. But all would have the opportunity to hear about a little boy whose life went beyond his fifteen days to touch people with his story of God’s deep love. Six pounds of love whose short life brought eternal life to others. And Mitchell is loved…
