Facebook is Different for a Grieving Mother.

Facebook has been a real challenge for me since we lost Jack.  You can probably imagine that it has been painful to watch other babies and children hit milestones that Jack never achieved here with us: sitting up, crawling, walking, turning one.  I know that list will grow over the years, as we watch our friends' children grow up right before our eyes.

Facebook has not only showed us the healthy children we know, though.  I have had so many sick babies come across my newsfeed.  These babies are all across the country.  They are struggling with cancer, heart defects and rare genetic disorders.  Their families have started Facebook pages to generate awareness for their baby's cause and to ask for prayer from anyone who will offer it.  These children have thousands of people following their every development and praying for them every step of the way.  Why didn't I think to do this?  We could have had thousands of strangers praying for Jack, for a miracle.  Would it have made a difference?

As I prepared to go to a writers’ conference a few weeks ago, I felt God pulling on my heart to share Jack's story and our own.  I want his life to be meaningful and for the world to be a better place because Jack was here.  The attendees of this conference are all on a private Facebook page sharing information and encouragement as we prepared for the conference.  Some women shared prayer requests, as we are a group of faith-filled women.  One morning, as I was scrolling though the new posts, I came across a request for prayer for a sweet baby boy.  He was in an accident and had suffered brain trauma.  His parents were praying for him to show signs of improvement in brain activity that morning, as the doctors prepared to test him.  There is a picture of this precious baby in his ICU bed, on a ventilator, with his parents by his side, terrified but determined to be brave.  His puffy face looks to be asleep while tubes and drips and lines swirl around his still little body.  

When I look at this photo I see Jack during the last few days of his life.  I see Josh and I standing by his bedside begging God to let Jack wake up and show us he is still in there.  I see myself, convinced that each day he is coming back to us a little big more.  That ICU room was our home.  That baby was our son.  I cannot tear myself away from these stories, even though they hurt my heart.

So I pray.  I cry and beg God for a miracle, for this sweet baby to wake up and come back to his mommy.  And then I pray for his mom, to be able to soak up every single minute she has with her son on this earth.  I prayed that the Holy Spirit hold her up as she goes though these days.  I pray that there will be angels among her nursing staff, as there were among ours.  I pray for her marriage and that she and her husband stay dedicated to each other no matter what comes.  I pray that they remember that nothing will be easier or better if they split apart and grieve the loss of their marriage on top of everything else.

And then I stop.  Will my prayers make a difference for this boy?  What about the scripture I have been clinging to these past 10 months?

“Your eyes saw my unformed body;

    all the days ordained for me were written in your book

    before one of them came to be.”

Psalm 139:16

I have been able to keep walking though each day of my life since October 6, 2012 because I believe that God knows how many days each one of us has and nothing can change the length of our time here.  That is the only thing that keeps me from living like a helpless victim: a woman whose baby was stolen from her tragically and far too soon.

But I also believe in the power of prayer.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 4:6-7

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

Matthew 7:7

Would it have made a difference if I had made a Facebook page for Jack and generated more prayers for a miracle?  Would he have lived?  I was so private during that month in the hospital.  It took me until the last week of his life to finally start a Caringbridge page to keep close friends and family in the loop about his health.  What if I had shared the photos I took of his little body, fighting septic shock, fighting for his life, as he appears to be sleeping soundly.  Would a miracle have come?  Would Jack still be with us today?

Ultimately, I can't afford to spend too much time wondering.  If I want to keep stepping into each day and choosing to live, I have to believe that Jack was with us for just as long as God had planned.  I have to believe that he completed his mission here on earth.  I have to believe that I will hold my sweet baby again one day in heaven.  And I have to believe the same for each of these sweet babies that pop into my newsfeed.  They will be held in their mothers’ arms for eternity.  

I can pray for a miracle.   I can pray for anything, as long as I understand that a prayer is not an order to God, it is a request.  And God may not answer my prayer in the way I expect Him to answer.  That does not mean it that He is not good and loving.   The most effective prayer I can pray is for their families to know God and to feel His love and know His plan for all of their lives.  I know that God will take care of these babies.  I pray their parents will allow God to comfort them as well.