I am so blessed! (WARNING!)

This morning I was reading a blog posting written the father of a not-yet born baby girl, diagnosed with Trisomy 13, a chromosome problem. The parents are not sure how much 'damage' their baby will have, once born, as her mom did not miscarry which more often happens. The dad wrote about his serious breaches of faith and even considered momentarily terminating the pregnancy to avoid the 'burden' of having to care for this child possibly all the days of their lives. It was a heart-warming yet tragic read, as this man recounts his feelings through the pregnancy, mixed excitement with dread, and so on. The recurring theme, however, was how his wife and he rallied in their faith in the Lord and His providence, trusting He knew how this would work out. Toward the end of his posting he wrote how glad he is that the Lord is trusting his wife and him with this baby, knowing they will be the best parents for her. 


As often happens, my mind went to my own situation when I was expecting Timmy at the ripe old age of 39-40. Despite the concerns of the medical folks, the pregnancy was nearly flawless--no diabetes even though I was fat. There was one episode of 'morning sickness' after taking my horse-pill vitamin (I never missed a beat as it happened in the shower and I just kept washing!). From that time on I took the vitamin at dinner with food, solving the problem of taking it on an empty stomach. Never missed a day of work at Sprint, quitting just a couple weeks prior to his planned delivery. He jumped the gun by a few hours when my water broke the night before he was scheduled, which should have tipped us off to how much of a rascal he would be!


So much could have gone wrong but did not. He could have been born prematurely and suffered with deafness or respiratory problems. He could have had Down's Syndrome and been dependent on me all his life. Instead, though, he was almost perfect, could turn his bottle inside out when drinking, and he did his best snoring during church. He was alive with character, that guy!


At age 3 months he was in the office with me nearly full time, walking at the horrendous age of 9 months---yikes! "Hurricane Hank", as our purchasing agent, Jim, liked to call him. Timmy's job, once ambulatory, was to press buttons on the computers and tear open archive boxes, distributing files around Jim's office. They loved each other!


Jim, who did not work for us anymore when Timmy died, took the death very hard. His co-worker at the time, named Betty, told me about it later, how he came to her house after hearing the news, needed to be with someone to mourn. I did not know Betty and she did not know me, but we felt like we did after the conversation! He told me he nearly passed out at the funeral service, but thankfully did not.


Yesterday, I had to ask my friend, formerly of GS, whose son is a month older than Timmy would be, what grade her son is in. Tenth grade, really? A sophomore, with his learner's permit for driving. The Lord, in His mercy, took Timmy home almost 11 years ago to spare him and me all this, whatever 'this' might be. He is now enjoying the bliss of eternally being able to see the Lord's face and circle the throne. And I am left here with tears running down my face, wondering what I missed out on with him on earth...