
Spring at Claret Farm. So much has happened since last spring, which was our first spring on the farm. The most significant event, in every sense of the word, was the death and birth of our son. In that order. While most of our friends and family heard the story, I still encounter acquaintances who have not heard his story, so I will share it again. Since I have written his complete birth story elsewhere, I will simply write a summary.
On Easter Sunday of last year, God blessed Christopher and me with another pregnancy. Since my previous pregnancy was high risk, and we had not intended to have another baby due to the likelihood of a repeat of the original condition, I was shocked and honestly very afraid not only for myself but for our new child. Yet I resolved to be as healthy as possible, and took very good care of myself.
Unknowingly, due to circumstances entirely out of my control, my son's placenta developed with a rare defect that resulted in some of the blood vessels being exposed rather than protected by the umbilical cord or the placenta. Unfortunately, this type of defect is only detectable with a type of ultrasound that is not commonly used during prenatal care, so the defect went undiagnosed. Although this placental abnormality put him in constant danger, especially during birth; miraculously, he was safeguarded throughout the pregnancy and up until the very last moments. Sometime during the last few minutes before birth, his life-giving oxygen supply was cut off, and his heart stopped. After his body was born, he did not attempt to breathe. Through the rapid response of our midwives, and the grace of God, he was revived after fifteen minutes of resuscitation. He spent fifteen days recovering in the NICU. He is doing marvelously and is a happy and healthy baby boy!
On Easter Sunday of last year, God blessed Christopher and me with another pregnancy. Since my previous pregnancy was high risk, and we had not intended to have another baby due to the likelihood of a repeat of the original condition, I was shocked and honestly very afraid not only for myself but for our new child. Yet I resolved to be as healthy as possible, and took very good care of myself.
Unknowingly, due to circumstances entirely out of my control, my son's placenta developed with a rare defect that resulted in some of the blood vessels being exposed rather than protected by the umbilical cord or the placenta. Unfortunately, this type of defect is only detectable with a type of ultrasound that is not commonly used during prenatal care, so the defect went undiagnosed. Although this placental abnormality put him in constant danger, especially during birth; miraculously, he was safeguarded throughout the pregnancy and up until the very last moments. Sometime during the last few minutes before birth, his life-giving oxygen supply was cut off, and his heart stopped. After his body was born, he did not attempt to breathe. Through the rapid response of our midwives, and the grace of God, he was revived after fifteen minutes of resuscitation. He spent fifteen days recovering in the NICU. He is doing marvelously and is a happy and healthy baby boy!
Today we begin Holy Week. I am reminded of Jesus' words: "Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds." (John 12:24) Of course Jesus was speaking of His own death and resurrection. Yet He was also speaking to us, His followers. We want a cheap harvest. We want the best of everything without paying anything. We want wealth without work, pleasure without pain, joy without suffering, eternal life without death.
But Jesus taught us that when we are unwilling to sow, to sacrifice our best, we will not harvest. In order to yield something worthy of harvesting, something has to die. To grow in love, sacrifice is required--sacrifices of my time, my schedule, my priorities, my strength, my heart, my hopes and dreams, perhaps even my very life.
For reasons only God knows, to become his mother, my son had to die. On that sunny December day, on the winter solstice, at noon, God took his spirit. And then He gave it back. My head is baffled, and my heart is grateful to the point of tears. My son's body was the seed that fell lifeless into the fertile ground. The harvest is still to come.
But Jesus taught us that when we are unwilling to sow, to sacrifice our best, we will not harvest. In order to yield something worthy of harvesting, something has to die. To grow in love, sacrifice is required--sacrifices of my time, my schedule, my priorities, my strength, my heart, my hopes and dreams, perhaps even my very life.
For reasons only God knows, to become his mother, my son had to die. On that sunny December day, on the winter solstice, at noon, God took his spirit. And then He gave it back. My head is baffled, and my heart is grateful to the point of tears. My son's body was the seed that fell lifeless into the fertile ground. The harvest is still to come.