My Deepest Griefs

     The loss of my beloved child has been my life's most intense affliction.

     Many times over.

     As the adoptive parent of terminal children, these losses were inevitable. But that did not make them easier to accept. I adopted a precious baby boy, Joshua, who was labeled "terminal", but the medical profession thought he might have twenty or thirty years. He died at almost six. I adopted a treasured baby boy, Zachary, who had a fatal condition, and there were no predictions as to how long he would live. He died at almost four. I adopted a beautiful, tender baby girl, Misty, who simply was profoundly retarded. She died of complications of the flu at almost eleven. What a doctor once explained to me, or I would never have realized, was that children with this severity of mental disability simply don't have a strong hold on life. They are frail as butterflies, and can simply float away without making any to-do about it.

Day by day, and with each passing moment,
Strength I find, to meet my trials here;
Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment,
I've no cause for worry or for fear.

     Since this has happened to me so many times, I have learned to treasure life one day at a time. My own, as well. It only takes a truck crossing the center line, or any number of other things, to take a life in an instant.

He Whose heart is kind beyond all measure
Gives unto each day what He deems best--
Lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure,
Mingling toil with peace and rest.

     It was very difficult for me, for many years, to cope with the fear I learned. The fear that every morning, when I woke up, one of my children just possibly might be dead. Gone from me. Death has stolen my fragile children from me suddenly with a family virus moving into a heart with no warning, a violent seizure, a fatal apnea spell, a trachea swelling closed during sleep, from reflux.

     Then, our whole family experienced perhaps the greatest tragedy of all.

     I had adopted with great joy, two delicate, five pound infant girls right from the hospital, in a private adoption. Sarah and Sheena had been born very prematurely, and suffered brain bleeds. I had guardianship, but as time wore on, the birth parents, who lived three thousand miles away, never signed the papers for the adoption to be finalized. The sweetest years we had ever had, floated along. My daughters developed much better than anyone had expected. They were bright, loving little girls, with marvelous senses of humor. Then the unthinkable happened. These people reappeared with no warning, having never seen them since they gave them to me. They did not even know how badly damaged my little girls might have turned out. They gave no reason for wanting them back. I got a bank loan with my house for collateral, and fought for my daughters in court. However, in the end, since they had more money than I, to pay lawyers with, I lost my beautiful, giggly daughters, who were the joys of all of our lives. They were six years old. This happened two months after my son Travis died. And I was never the same again.

     For four years, I had what probably was a breakdown. I was still surrounded by children and life, and searched desperately for help to cope with the terrible grief inside me. I went to a very expensive psychiatrist, but she had no idea in the world how to help me through what felt like a double kidnapping. She did not know what it was like, living with children who might die. She obviously had no training to deal with a bereaved mother at all. So I realized that I should have gone to a death and dying counselor instead of a regular one. But when I found a death and dying specialist, she did not know how to help me either. It was plain that she was trained to help a parent face one death, and then a normal future. I had faced five deaths, two losses that were, if anything, harder than deaths, and had a future that only promised more losses.

Every day, the Lord Himself is near me
With a special mercy for each hour;
All my cares He fain would bear, and cheer me,
He Whose Name is Counselor and Power;

     I could understand this therapist's problem. After all, I had gotten myself into this boat, and if I did not know how to row now, how was she supposed to know how to rescue me?

The protection of His child and treasure
Is a charge that on Himself He laid;
"As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,"
This the pledge to me He made.

     Needless to say, I did not go back, and did not search further. No one could help me. I floated farther and farther out on the waves of depair. Alone, I struggled day and night, too depressed to even hold my hand out to God, and ask for strength. But no, I was not alone.

Help me then in every tribulation
So to trust Thy promises, O Lord,
That I lose not faith's sweet consolation
Offered me within Thy holy Word.

     God was watching over me the whole time. My Heavenly Father had never taken his eyes off of me for a second. When I truly began to flail about in the slough of despondency, and it appeared that I might drown, He put out His hand, in the form of a man who loved me, and lifted me out of the miry clay. He set my feet upon a rock, and gave me a new song. God brought me a husband, a comforter. And little by little, I began to heal.

* The Lord has heard and paid attention to your affliction. Genesis 16:11b

* I will be glad and rejoice in Your mercy and steadfast love, because You have seen my affliction, You have taken note of my life's distresses. Psalm 31:7

     I had been taking care of others all my life. Now I had a husband who was taking care of me. I was very frail, emotionally. It was as though God had told him, in regards to me:

     Naturally, I wish that life had only been joyful in the years since that time. But life between that point where I was broken, and this point where I am healing, has been long, and burdened with its own heartbreaks. However, now I am much stronger, and we have moved to a farm in the mountains. We have seven adult children with disabilities still living at home with us. I still feel emotionally fragile, but God has returned my strength to reach out to help others. My husband and I bear each other's burdens now and share life day by day, in love and peace.

Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting,
E'er to take, as from a father's hand,
One by one, the days, the moments fleeting,
Till I reach the promised land.

by Karolina W. Sandell-Berg, 1865

The greatest comfort, wonder, and mercy is this: I cannot heal the sorrows of my children, relatives, and loved ones who are out in the world, but God can. I cannot remove the sufferings of everyone I love, but God can. It is time for me to leave my worries in His hands, and raise my head toward the future. For God has a bright sky ahead for all of us who love Him.

© 2004 Rosemary Gwaltney