Unity in Faith

As any parent who has had a baby in a NICU knows, there are a lot of heartbreaking situations there. Sadly, too many babies are there because of poor decisions during a pregnancy and these mothers often do not visit their babies. The whole thing can really break you down if you let it. On the other end of the spectrum, however, are some of the most dedicated, loving, faithful parents you'd ever want to meet. And that's who I want to talk about right now...

When our little girl was born four months early, at barely 24 weeks gestation, our world crumbled a little. With a ten-month old son already, we were torn and challenged. We cried a little. We raged a little. We prayed a lot. And we joined forces more than we had ever had to previously in our marriage.

We were not allowed to touch our daughter. She was too fragile. We were advised to speak softly, that she was aware of our presence and it was important. I spent many hours beside her isolette, crocheting tiny blankets and hats and singing hymns I have been singing since I was a tiny girl in the Catholic church.

We had such a lengthy hospital stay, it was inevitable that we would get to know other parents who also seemed to have made the NICU their second home. I would smile when I saw the Baptist father of another tiny preemie playing the guitar softly by her bedside. I looked forward to the gentle sounds of the flute played by a kind Mennonite father as they waited for news about his baby daughter's heart defect.

One day, one of the other little girls was having a very bad day. A bad day in the NICU world is not like a bad day in a typical home. A bad day at the NICU means your baby probably won't make it. The air was so thick, it was hard to breathe.

Though we had only known each other on a casual basis, somehow these two men and I all ended up by Kaylynn's bedside. And, despite our differing faiths, somehow we all knew one hymn in common. As we stared at the blinking numbers on this tiny child's monitor, Joe and Jeremiah started playing. I started singing. "Like a Shepherd" rang out in that NICU module. Doctors and nurses fought valiantly. And Kaylynn fought too. We saw that little girl claw her way back from the brink until her numbers were stable. The joy was overwhelming.

I saw one of the nurses, standing off to the side, looking dazed. I asked her is she was OK and she replied, "You know, it's easy to lose faith. To question the fairness of losing little babies. But then, when you FEEL God in the room like that. Actually FEEL his hands reach down to this child, you wonder how you could ever doubt."

I feel so blessed to have shared that moment with those two faithful fathers. I am so thankful that we found unity together and didn't see reason to nit-pick the parts of our beliefs that differ. I am so thankful for God's presence and his miraculous works in that NICU. All three of our daughters are home now. And thriving in their own ways.