Saturday, June 17, 2017

Being a Dad Takes Bravery

We’ve never actually had the conversation but I know this is true as a wife to a man who is many things, not the least of which is brave.

It’s been said before: bravery is not the absence of fear.  Bravery is being afraid and doing it anyway.  (In my line of work, we also call that impulsiveness…but that’s not as eloquent for the purpose of this blog, so we’re calling it bravery…got it?!?)

When Adam and I first found out we were pregnant we were elated.  Adam was basically Superman – beaming optimism from every face hole he had…virtually indestructible.  The pregnancy went great…zero complications.  I loved being pregnant.  I felt good, too.  My blood pressure was great, my skin was clear, and my hair was voluminous.  We didn’t know anything could go wrong and so we lived happily in the light of that bliss…until…

It did go wrong.

40 Weeks & 2 Days Later

August 19, 2012…it went tragically wrong.

Cradling our newborn son in his arms, Adam gently kissed Parker’s forehead as tears fell onto is brand new, baby soft skin.  For a moment I think he pretended that Parker was just sleeping, that we would be taking him home from the hospital and this nightmare had never even happened.

When people ask if Sawyer is our only son…or how many kids we have…he always replies, “We have three children; our first son passed away and we have two still here with us.”

My heart breaks for my husband.  That first night in the hospital after the man from the funeral home came and took Parker, I cried relentlessly.  I was sad.  I was tired.  I was drained.  But in some ways, most of all, I was humiliated and sad for Adam.  In the intensity of that moment, I felt as though I had failed and not given Adam a son.  People somewhat naturally focus on the mother’s grief after a stillbirth but there he was… my husband, Parker’s dad, trying to be strong while dealing with his own sorrow. 

When devastation and loss hit, there is no road map.  There is no certain way to be.  We walked through the following days and weeks and months and years as transparently and honestly as we could. 

Until it did go wrong…  And in the few seconds following Parker’s birth, as he held his lifeless baby and my hand, that Superman feeling went away.  He could be crushed.  And if he were, this would be the thing to do it.  He was vulnerable and suddenly had so much to lose and so much to protect.  Everything was different.  No one – not him nor me – knew just how different it was going to be. 

Some people were just born to be dads.  My husband being one of them.  From the calm of his voice to the warmth of his laugh, he’s got a heart full of kindness.  The loss of our first son was, still, and will always be devastating.  The life of our first son Parker is what made him a dad that first Father’s Day. . .and if no other child would have come, for Parker alone, he would always be honored as a father. 

And then, 14 months after Parker was born and buried, a second son arrived.  And a mere 15 months after the second son, a daughter.   Bravery is not the absence of fear.  Bravery is being afraid and doing it anyway. 

When I look at the two children we have the privilege of parenting, I see the Lord’s goodness and sovereignty… but I also see their dad.  Their being here is a testament to Adam’s capacity to love.

Happy Father's Day!!!


From the Fullness of His Grace,

Lacey

 


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