Letter to Nathaniel: When a Mother Says Good-Bye

February 17, 2016

To my Nathaniel,  

You are just two years old now, but I pray that this letter will one day bring you strength. As a mother, my heart stings to see you hurt. I wish I could scoop you up and protect you from all of life’s hardships. I learned this past year, however, that while God does not intend our pain, He can bring beautiful lessons to us through it. Here is my account of Jack Michael’s story.

When I found out I was expecting a second boy, the stars seemed to align. Your father and I wanted to be surprised, but the ultrasound tech let the news slip on the ninth scan. Since your dad still didn’t want to find out, I pondered this delightful secret in my heart. To get through grueling days of blood transfusions and magnesium enforced “misery” (the nurse’s words, not mine, but the reality was correct), I basked in the thought of watching two blonde boys running through sand at the beach or wrestling for first dibs on dessert.

You brought me such joy during those long days. For three weeks, you’d come to the hospital everyday and climb into bed with me. We’d sift through the crayon box naming all the colors. You’d even try to mooch off my terrible hospital food! Despite constant worries and lonely hours, I prayed often and let my three boys, Dad included, be my motivation.

While staying in the unit, I became quick friends with many of the doctors and nurses. I had almost daily visits from one of the neonatologists, who would answer my questions and ease my fears about premature babies. One of my nurses gave me a piece of advice that stuck with me: “The will of God will never take you where the grace of God will not protect you.”

Jack was born on January 24^th, one day short of 27 weeks. He had the strength of an army, so we gave him the middle name “Michael” after God’s archangel warrior. The day after his birth, the doctor showed me a picture of the unexplained blood clot in my uterus that caused the abruption. She estimated it was the size of one liter or half of a soda bottle. Your unborn brother had to maneuver around this obstacle. Truly our Jack Jack was a fighter and a confirmed miracle!

All of the months of hardship leading up to Jack’s birth were worth it when I heard him cry for the first time. He sounded like a Billy goat from our backyard! Jack stayed in the NICU, and we’d visit him daily. I loved tucking his tiny body into my shirt – they called it “kangaroo care” – and holding him next to my heart. His sweet minuscule fingers would often tickle my face.

At the three-week mark, I received the phone call I had dreaded. Jack was showing signs of Necrotizing Enterocolitis, an infection of his intestines. Dad and I rushed to the hospital and were met by our dear friend, Fr. Daniel, who baptized and confirmed Jack. We joked that you’d be pretty upset when you were 17 and your little brother had already trumped you in receiving this sacrament. Once again, we turned to our faith for strength, and the nurse’s words echoed in my mind: “The will of God will never take you where the grace of God will not protect you.”

I spent a night in prayer by Jack’s bedside as he prepared for transfer to another hospital for surgery. As I signed the paperwork, I knew God was asking me to place him in His arms. Watching the ambulance pull out of the parking lot, I wept. The next morning Jack was safe and sound.

Five more days came and went while we waited and watched Jack for signs of improvement. On Wednesday morning, I received the phone call from the surgeons that they’d likely go ahead with surgery. Dad held my hand the entire time. “The will of God will never take you where the grace of God will not protect you.”

As they called us into the conference room, I instinctively knew what to expect. God was so tender with me in that way. My motherly intuition prepared me to hear the words that I dreaded the most. “So he’s not going to make it?” I asked. The surgeon nodded. In that moment, the world felt like it was crashing. Immediately after, though, a peace beyond understanding came upon us. It was as if all the prayers I’d ever said, all the Holy Hours and times I received the Eucharist were coming back to me.

“The will of God will never take you where the grace of God will not protect you.” At first I thought this phrase meant that God wouldn’t take Jack home. Surely that reality would be too much for me to bear! Once it happened, though, I started to feel joy. The circumstances of Jack’s birth were so challenging. I witnessed him suffering so much in his short life. I felt as if God was granting a prayer in a strange and supernatural way. Now, I feel his presence everywhere. I treasure having our little New Orleans Saint in Heaven.

Nathaniel Joseph, my dear son, life won’t always go the way you expect. I am writing to share this message, so you also know that God’s grace will be there to protect you. I love you entirely!!

Your Mom.
Photography by Katie Valence Reine http://kvrphotography.com/   who was put in touch with the Almon family by the special organization Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep https://www.nowilaymedowntosleep.org/

Editor’s note: This article is from the latest issue of Radiant Magazine and is made available here with kind permission. Find Radiant on their website and facebook page.