Baby Mark

Eleven and a half years ago something went wrong. My cousin and his wife were due to have a baby, their first, the day after I was due to have my fourth. That was supposed to be mid-July.

What went wrong was that baby Mark was born in March. Early. Too early. Or so it seemed. Defying all probabilities, Baby Mark, weighing in at, I think, something like 1 pound, 2 ounces, entered the ring of life with serious obstacles.

And he defied them all. Brain bleeds, premature lungs, reflux and feeding issues, shunt malfunctions, and frankly, lots of stuff I don't remember or never knew about. I have no ideas how many surgeries the boy went through.

But he went through them all and won.

Until yesterday.

Sunday afternoon sometime, I received a call. It was not the first such call. They haven't been very frequent for a while, and because he always pulled through, we kind of figured he always would. This time he didn't.

It went something like this: Mark has been having some headaches and upset stomach, so they took him to the hospital. He walked in. Two hours later, he stopped breathing, in what they now believe was a stroke. Later, after being transferred to another, better hospital, he had another. He also had 2 surgeries and a seizure that night. At 1 a.m., the call to pray was heavy.

At 4 we prayed. At 7 I learned they would give him 24 hours to show some sign his brain was alive. At 3 or so, his vitals started to drop. A little after 7, he was gone.

Maybe 26 hours. He walked in. Then he was gone.

I'm working on a song, because, that's how I process things. It's what I do.

Something like this:

The first time I held your hand
Smaller than I ever knew a hand could be
I trembled
I slid my ring up on your leg
And marveled at the perfect way
He formed your hand
I held it

Then a million years went by
Till the day I finally held your tiny frame
Didn't breathe,
couldn't believe I held you then
So long I waited for that day
To hold my son
I held you

But I know Who holds you now
But I know Who holds you now
But I know Who holds you now
He's holds me too

I have held you many times
With each surgery
And every wounded knee
I kissed you and I prayed
God would see you through
And hold you

Every time I let you go
with the knowledge that
the One Who gave you life
loves you even more than I
and holds you

See I know Who holds you now
Yes I know Who holds you now
Yes I know Who holds you now
He holds me too

He holds the universe together
He holds the wind in His fists
He holds my tears in a bottle
He holds my life, my heart

And I know Who holds you now
Yes I know Who holds you now
Yes I know Who holds you now
He holds me too

Faithful and good and true
Perfect and worthy
Gentle and wonderful
Is the One Who holds you
Who holds me and you


Okay, it's not done, but you get the point.

Baby Mark, who hasn't been a baby for a long time, has been such a fighter, we just thought he'd keep on fighting. But he lost finally. Or rather, he won, in a different way.

We know he is fine now. No shunt, no more surgeries, no little barely noticable limp, no glasses, no scars.

But for us, it's just, no Mark. No Mark smiles or jokes or hugs. No son, no brother, no cousin. There's just a Mark shaped hole, like a Grand Canyon, right in the middle of our hearts.

I'm far away. Mark was not the center of my world, except on days when the phone would ring in the scary, Mark needs prayer, kind of way. But people I love are dying inside today.

Jesus, You loved and lost and wept. Even knowing the end from the beginning, even knowing healing was coming, and eternity wasn't far off, You wept. Maybe You are even weeping with us now.

You are near to the broken hearted. Please help us feel You as near as our pain, as near as our tears. And in the days ahead, as that Grand Canyon where Mark used to be, was supposed to be, widens, please fill it with Your healing love. And someday, please, give joy for our mourning.