John wouldn’t stop pacing, which made Mary more nervous. Soon Mary would give birth to their first child and she wanted everything to go perfectly.
Mary coughed and gave her young husband a stern look from her hospital bed. “I’m just so excited.”
“I know, but sit down. Watch TV or something.”
John laid on the couch looking at the television and then smiled.
“You know, when Brianna’s born, you think she’ll be a great athlete like her old man?”
“Oh, I love this game,” Mary said. “And nice one on Brianna.”
They often talked about what their unborn child would become, and used various names to see if one fit.
“I think Emma will be a Girl Scout.” Mary gave John a big grin.
“But Joan,” John said with a slight pause, “could be an animal lover like her mother. Maybe she’ll be a vet.”
Mary ignored John’s last statement as she softly and slowly repeated the first name John used, “Brianna.” In her normal cadence she said her full name, “Brianna Anderson. I think that’s the one. How’d you come up with it?”
John shrugged. “It just came. Divine intervention you could say. It seemed natural.”
But John’s smiling face slowly turned solemn. “You think we’ll be good parents – considering …?”
John and Mary had a rough childhood. They met at school and both were orphaned almost a decade ago when their parents died in the same car crash. They became circumstantial best friends, and that bond led to love.
A year after high school, they were married, and a year later Mary found out she was pregnant. John often thought about what he’d do with his child – play catch, go to the park, build a jungle gym. But doubt frequently intruded his thoughts.
“We’ll be fine, Honey. As long as we love her, we’ll be okay,” Mary said in her most assuring voice.
“Am I ready for this?” John said desperately.
“Well, it’s a little late for second-guessing, Johnny.” She flashed a coy smile.
“I’m serious, Mary. What if I drop her?”
“She’ll bounce.” Mary giggled.
“I said I’m serious.”
“I know you are, as am I – well, not about the bouncing part.” She smiled. “You are going to be a great father. I know it in my heart and in my soul. You’ve lived a rough life. We both have. That just means we know what not to do.”
John had been placed in more than one foster family. He had suffered verbal abuse by the father of his first home, and physical abuse by the children of his second and third. Mary never trusted her foster families after being removed from her first one after being sexually abused by a friend of one of the children. The family shunned Mary when she made the accusation.
Through it all, John and Mary stayed in touch. When they were first placed into their foster homes, they would send text messages. Once they were old enough to drive, they’d meet at the mall, the movies, or a coffee shop.
Mary motioned John to sit next to her. She tapped her chest over her heart. “As long as we use this, we will be just fine.” She looked into her husband’s eyes and said, “I love you, Johnny.”
“I love you, too.” John kissed Mary on the forehead then hovered over her belly. “And I love you too, Brianna.” He kissed Mary’s belly. She giggled.
“I love that – Brianna.”
* * *
John hadn’t prayed since he was a child and his parents took him to church every Sunday. None of his foster parents were religious, so he stopped going.
He stared at the altar in the hospital’s chapel and prayed. He didn’t know what to pray for though – maybe for the pain to go away, or just some sort of guidance.
He was in the birthing room when the nurses escorted him away. Brianna’s head started to come out when all the monitors and machines made every alarming noise to say, “Something isn’t right.”
“Mr. Alexander, please, I need you to come with me.” A nurse pulled at John’s arm.
“No, I can’t. I need to be here. I can’t leave. Why do I have to leave?”
John tried to stand steadfast.
“Sir, please.” The nurse begged. “We need to take care of your wife.”
Reluctantly he left with the nurse and looked over his shoulder to get the last glimpse of his wife. Outside the room, he fell to the ground and sat there helpless, hopeless and alone.
The hospital’s priest sat next to John.
“You know God tests us in many different ways during our lifetime.” John looked confused.
“The doctors let me know you lost your wife. They were concerned.”
“Yeah,” was all John could muster. The two sat there for a few minutes before John spoke again.
“We met in grade school.” He managed a short smile. “We were both orphaned … that was our bond.”
“We would have been married three years this July,” he added before another pause. “I just don’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I could be a father with Mary, and now I’ll be a single father … She was everything to me.” A tear streamed over a cheek.
“Well, you do have a piece of her in the nursery. What’s her name?”
“Brianna,” John managed. “But I don’t know how to do it without … without her.”
“Well, God’s plan is mysterious, and we won’t know why until He calls for us.” The priest placed a hand on John’s shoulder. “I can’t possibly imagine what you’re going through, but I have helped many people get through difficult times. And what I’ve learned is that there will be pain – even though it’s not exactly the same each time – but there will be pain … and doubt.”
John placed his hands on the back of the pew in front of him and then placed his head on his hands. He cried as he said, “I just, I just don’t know what to do, or how to do it.”
The priest paused to collect his thoughts. “I can cite you all the verses in the Bible about losing a loved one, and how to overcome that incredible grief. But it really all comes down to this simple truth: You love that little girl, and love her with all your heart.” He tapped his hand three times against his chest. “There’s no doubt in my mind, body and soul that she’ll love you back – and that’s success to me.”
“I believe you will be just fine, my son. And He will always be listening.” The priest motioned his eyes upwards. “And she’ll be watching, too.”
“How will I do it?”
“Like I said, your answer, my son, is in that nursery. She is your life now, and you are her life.”
The priest stood up. “And tell her about the greatest woman you have ever known. Make sure she knows her mother.”
* * *
The priest went upstairs to the nursery with John. He asked the nurse to bring out Brianna. John sat down in a rocking chair. The nurse placed the hours-hold infant into the nervous, grieving father’s arms. The priest sat in a chair next to him.
“Hey, Brianna,” John said in a soft, slightly high-pitched voice as he rocked. “I’m your daddy.”
“This is silly,” he said, looking up at the priest.
“No, no. You’re doing great. Go on.”
John looked back down at the infant, holding her in one arm, lightly stroking her face with her other hand. “Let me tell you a story about a wonderful woman, named Mary.”
EDITOR'S NOTE: This is a draft copy of "A Mother's Story"
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