Expensive Love and Undeserved Kindness

Cheap love is not love; Mercy is undeserved kindness, I have learned those today.

True love is choosing to love, amidst pain, and amidst sacrifices. I know, I have witnessed this. And I have been reminded of this today and every May 15.

 Let me tell you the story about this part of my life.

 Only some people knew that I got pregnant a second time by 2015. This was a time when I thought that I deserved to have a baby; that I deserved to have some happiness after all the loss I had in my life. I was hopeful and scared. But most importantly, there was a lot of excitement and happiness at the thought that I will finally have a baby.

 My partner and I did our very best to take care of the pregnancy, amidst all the judgment from other people. I lost some people back then because they cannot seem to understand my decision. I cared and was affected but I didn’t want that to ruin my chances of having my own kid. Months passed and my tummy grew. We found out that we will have a baby girl and we were ecstatic and crying out of joy when we first heard her heartbeat. I can still remember our happy faces.

One fateful night, I took a shower before going to sleep and I felt something warm trickling down my legs. I cried out in panic when I realized that it was blood coming out of me. I shouted for help and my Mom cried out in panic, as well. My partner was still at work 2 cities away and there was no one else who could drive us to the hospital. Luckily, our neighbor was there and offered to drive us to the city hospital. I can still feel my blood dripping out of me and all I can think of was, “Please Lord, not her. Just take me… “

 When we reached the hospital, it was the same scene all over again with my first born, four years prior. My BP shot off to 200/150 and they had to inject potassium to my body. And it felt like I was burned at stake, my every pore was on fire and I had hard time breathing. I was still 6 months pre-term and my baby was just too small to be taken out. Luckily at that time, they heard a faint heartbeat.

 I was placed in labor room isolation so they could monitor my blood pressure.  I heard pregnant women go in, cried during labor and go out with their babies. I was there for around two days, I guess. I can’t remember but it felt like forever. Then they told me that I need to go to another hospital to check something. They found out that my baby’s placenta has totally covered my cervix (placenta previa) and that was causing my bleeding. I was placed in isolation again after that.

 The doctor came in and told me, “You will go into labor. But… when you do, your baby will not be alive anymore..We cannot find any heartbeat, but you need to get her out…” Those were the words that shattered my soul. I mean, how do you give birth to a dead child? My partner came in, and I guess he was given the news, too. We were crying as we were holding each others’ hands, vouching that we will just be fine together, without a kid; that we will do our best to just be there for each other. That was the pinnacle of our relationship. And regardless of what the future brings, I will always freeze that moment in my heart and will always love him for the person that he was at that moment. 

 Labor and giving birth was painful but it was nothing compared to the thought that I will not be able to see my baby alive. So, I pushed and pushed until the doctor said, “Okay, she’s out”. Suddenly, my baby cried and I saw everyone in the delivery room pause for a few seconds, confused. And they said, “It’s a miracle, she’s alive!” They placed my baby on my chest and I saw her, and I can still recall every detail of her face—her nose just like her Dad’s and she opened her eyes which are just like mine… I was crying, and said, “My baby girl, my strong baby girl… I love you, I love you…”

 I lost consciousness after that, maybe because of being too tired. The next thing I know, I was already in my room. My partner told me that our baby girl was in the Neonatal ICU because her lungs were underdeveloped and they need to put her on a lung machine. This was all too familiar for me as this also happened to my first born.

 My partner and I decided to do all our best to give her a fighting chance. We were there for her every single day, talking to her, singing to her, giving my milk to her. We prayed like we never prayed before. There were instances when her oxygen would go down but then she would fight and prove to us that she was so brave through it all. Oh, how strong and brave she was, our little baby girl. We also asked a priest to baptize her at the NICU, and she was and we gave her a wonderful name—Ara Nathalia (Nat2x). Baptism at the NICU was somber but we were relieved that she was a baptized Christian fighting with us.

  Her oxygen was okay for a few days until on her 8^th day, the doctor called us that she was having hard time breathing. We went there right away and had to pump her lungs manually. I was crying the whole time until her doctor told us that her lungs cannot take in oxygen anymore. Eventually, our Nathalia, our brave little girl passed away that night. I held her little body in my arms and I was crying, I didn’t know what to do or what to bargain—everything I own, my soul, my life just to see her alive and grow up to be a happy, beautiful child. 

 

Today would have been her 5^th birthday and my partner and I, amidst ECQ, away from each other, and having our own personal problems to deal with, were there for each other, crying our hearts out, because the pain that we felt five years ago is still fresh and still as hurtful. And I was able to write this with a live rewind system in my brain, replaying every scene, replaying the 8 days of her life, replaying the what-could-have-been's. My mind was scavenging what possible detail I could have done better, in order to change the situation. But then, here we are, five years later, still in pain.

 And I always say, what do you call parents who lost their child? For someone who lost their spouses, you call them widow/widowers, for kids who lost their parents, you call them orphans. But for us, there are no words. And it is so apt with how we feel. Because there are no words—regardless of time, regardless of circumstances, regardless of tears, nothing could ever describe the immense pain that was engraved in our hearts.

 And these are times that I ask God, why? Why? If you loved us, why can’t you give us a chance to have a child? Why take her? Why not me? Why do we have to feel pain? Why? Why?

Earlier today, I thought about how I felt I deserved to have a baby, that I deserved not to feel pain; that I asked and sometimes even blamed God for my circumstances, but then, I ask-- Who am I to think that I deserve anything? Do I really deserve anything? For all my mistakes, for all my sins, for all my wrong decisions and rejections of God, I really don't deserve anything. I felt like I don't deserve to be a mother, that I don't deserve to be forgiven or saved. 

Then sometime this morning, I attended an online mass. And it’s about Jesus’ commandment, to love one another as He has loved us. I was struck by the priest’s homily. He said, that cheap love is not love. If we base our love to what we see in movies or what our ideals are, or to love God when times are fortunate, then it is so easy to love. When we love only the lovable, then it’s so easy. When we forgive those who deserve to be forgiven, then it’s so easy to forgive. Even the thieves and murderers could do that.

 But when we love even when we are in pain and even when we don’t understand, then it gives a whole new meaning to the word. When we forgive those who don’t deserve to be forgiven, then that is mercy. When God commands us to love and to forgive, I guess, this is what He means. To give out everything we have, and not just the excess.  After all, God’s love is not cheap at all. In fact, He gave us everything He had-- for people who rejected and mocked Him, the same undeserving ones that we all are, for we are all sinners. 

 God loved us that He just didn’t send anyone to prove it—He sent Jesus, His only Son and we crucified His Son, we scourged Him at the pillar, we made Him cry blood and gave Him thorns as a crown. With all His wounds, He carried His cross for around 2kms. And that cross must be heavy. And I can just visualize the cross as not a smooth one but crooked and one that could pierce through wounds. And I found out that when He was crucified, the nail was not pummeled down his palm but on his wrist and that it tore through His skin and the nail rested on His palm. I think about that every time. And I think about our Mother Mary who was able to witness and endure all of these so that Jesus could actualize His purpose, for the love of God and of men.

He didn't deserve any of that suffering or death, but He did and there is no greater love than this-- to offer His life for the sake of His friends. He called us friends. And we are closer to Him when we are suffering because He also suffered. He knows our sufferings, He knows our pain, because He has gone through it. 

 Can you just imagine that love and that total surrender?

And Jesus said, Love as I have loved you.

I have never felt so humbled. This—all our sacrifices, united with His love and passion, is love that is not cheap. Compared to His, this is nothing. And if we are still pain after all these years, I don’t think there is love lost but a love gained because through our baby, we remember her bravery, we remember our immense love for her, and that love endures, love will always prevail. We remember about God's love through her, about Mama Mary's love to her Son and to God, through our baby. What wonderful purpose you are to us, our little one. You will always be our gift from God. 

 

Prayer for today:

And so, even in pain, I praise your Lord Jesus. I thank you for every stepping stone. I thank you for loving us, for forgiving our sins. I may not understand things but I trust that you know the future, and that everything that happened did not happen without you foreseeing things. I trust that our daughter is in good hands, and that you are taking care of her for us, until we are worthy to be in your presence, and to be with our little angel.  I give you my pain, I give you my grief. Please take it, Lord for without you, I am nothing. I trust that you know what’s best for us, and that the best is yet to come. I love you Lord Jesus, I praise you Lord Jesus. I thank you for everything.

 

Happy birthday, Baby Natnat, our love. Please keep watching over us. We will all be together, in God’s time.

 

Sheepmates, can you pray for our baby? And also for us, her parents, to be resilient in our faith, every day until we will be with our baby. Thank you sheepmates! God loves ewe!