I ask myself this question, one day at work.
Help me make a baby she had said,
On the first time, on that second night.
It began with the gentle nibbling on her ear.
It was good that first night, and the many to follow.
In a matter of weeks, they were in that first home.
The first one they purchased, together.
He came home one evening, twins she said, coming soon.
Then one night the home teacher they called.
A blessing she wanted, to keep the babies.
Then the loss of those two possibilities.
Still together they worked, on creating the babies.
In time they learned of the loss of the possibility.
He had been born sterile, no babies would he ever produce.
Still, the pain he remembered, from the loss
of the first two possibilities.
He would keep the memory of the pain, of the loss.
He would recall it when he needed to understand the loss of the others,
and their possibilities.
With time the handmaiden would provide the babies.
He would teach his children to honor the handmaiden,
as he and his wife raised their new possibilities.
Still, he carried with him, the pain of the loss, of those first two, possibilities.
When I visit with a mother, father or grandparent, who has lost a child, I understand how Christ felt in The Garden of Gethsemane. How he took up my pain and suffering and lifted the burden off my shoulders. I know how it feels to lose a child. I know how it feels to gain a child. I have a hope in Christ that he will lift the burden of the first and enhance the joy of the second; we both experienced our own Garden of Gethsemane. I hope then to carry for a while the burden of their loss as Christ carried my burden and as we all mourn the loss of our own possibilities.
