The Fear Factor

Ask any parent, what is their number one fear? Losing their children. As I listened to Pastor Jim talk about this message today at service, I began reflecting. On the loss of Sterling. On the fear of losing August. On facing the fear of loss probability/possibility in future journeys through pregnant-hood. Yes, I made up a new word..but pregnancy truly is more than just a state of being for a temporary amount of time. For some, pregnant-hood is the only level of parent-hood ever reached.

I am blessed that I have August and that I am able to experience the joys and the fears of parenting.
As he turned 4 this past weekend, I watched him whirling and twirling with excitement and yes...fear...on some of the rides at Disneyland. Talk about entering a world for the first time and havig no idea what to expect, and the willingness to just jump in, feet first, strapped in tight, and TRUST that mommy and daddy are right and this will be fun and safe. Even if it's a different ride than the circus train, which is so predictable, so fun, and yes, even though we never rode it before, so familiar.

Thus is the mind-set that a parent after loss must try to take into pregnant-hood again, and overcome the fear factor. If she chooses to do so, that is. Sometimes, when defeated, it is so easy for me to throw my hands up in the air and say that if I can't have it my way, then I don't want it anyway. The truth is, there is no "my way". There never has been. There is Gods way, and my path. My path may be filled with whirling and twirling, and yes, I must TRUST too that His way will lead me. I am not alone. I have an amazing husband, an incredible team of co-workers, friends, and collegues, and I have my son. Correction---I have my sons. And when they are not by my side, I miss them like crazy. Each seperately, each differently...sometimes at the same time.

Its the love that I experience with August that makes me want, more than anything, to love another child. Not just any other child. My child. Our child. I'm also starting to realize that its more than that too. The love that I feel from my son to me, and that I see from him to his dad, gives me purpose. Just as much as he needs us, we need him. To love a living child. Love. Unconditional. Conventional. Pure. Constant. Reciprocal.

I know, deep into my heart, that Baby Sterling loves us. Just as I know God loves us. Some days I can feel their love. Other days I have to try harder to open my spirit and my senses to them. But all days, no matter what, I cannot hold them. I cannot look into their eyes and see my purpose. And that makes me sad. I think, no, I know, that it always will. But sadness can be tolerated, accepted, and even understood. So can fear. Yes, it may always be a factor, but I cannot let it be a deciding factor. I choose not to. Its not my way. Its not my path. But it is my reality. And that is OK.