A Journey Toward Healing

by Pastor David Hilliard

In December 2017, as a young married couple looking forward to being new parents, our Christmas was filled with joy and excitement. Upon our tree, we had what would become a cherished ornament—a pregnant young mom with the word “baby” on her belly. In a week, however, this season of happiness would all change.

It was the morning of December 31, and we had just left her doctor’s office with some concern. He noticed that my wife’s blood pressure was elevated and sent her home on a BRAT diet (Bananas, Rice, Apples, and Tea) and bed rest. He wanted to see us again the following week to check on her condition. Shortly after picking up the items necessary for her prescribed diet and getting her situated comfortably in bed, we received an unexpected phone call from the doctor. He was reviewing her records again and felt more comfortable having her seen by a specialist.

Although the baby was physically fine, my wife unexpectedly developed what is known as HELLP syndrome, a rare but life-threatening pregnancy complication related to pre-eclampsia. With her liver enzyme count on the rise and the potential of her liver rupturing, the only way to save their lives was to undergo an emergency C-section. That evening, they delivered our first-born son, Michael.

With my wife recovering from major surgery and my son in NICU, my spirit of happiness became a spirit of sadness. I looked to God with both grief and anger. What had happened? A week ago, we were celebrating Christmas with family, and now I am sitting in a hospital chapel praying for my wife and child to make it through the night. Although she had significant post-surgical bleeding, my wife was on the mend, but, unfortunately, being only 23 weeks into the pregnancy, none of Michael’s vital organs had developed to be able to sustain his life, and 36 hours later, from my wife’s hospital room, we had to say good-bye to our precious little child. What is usually a season of joy and happiness suddenly, without warning, becomes a time of sadness and mourning.

In the days that followed, my emotions of sorrow, anger, and denial led me to a series of questions for God: like “Why?” and “Did I do something wrong?” and “Could I have done something to prevent it?”

I can’t say that I ever received an answer to any of these questions, but I did receive a message from God to lift my spirit. For you see, God directed me to these words:

2 Samuel 12:15—The Lord struck the baby that Uriah’s wife had borne to David, and he became deathly ill. David pleaded with God for the boy. He fasted, went home, and spent the night lying on the ground. The elders of his house stood beside him to get him up from the ground, but he was unwilling and would not eat anything with them. On the seventh day the baby died. But David’s servants were afraid to tell him the baby was dead. They said, “Look, while the baby was alive, we spoke to him, and he wouldn’t listen to us. So how can we tell him the baby is dead? He may do something desperate.” When David saw that his servants were whispering to each other, he guessed that the baby was dead. So he asked his servants, “Is the baby dead?” “He is dead,” they replied. Then David got up from the ground. He washed, anointed himself, changed his clothes, went to the Lord’s house, and worshiped. Then he went home and requested something to eat. So they served him food, and he ate. His servants asked him, “Why have you done this? While the baby was alive, you fasted and wept, but when he died, you got up and ate food.” He answered, “While the baby was alive, I fasted and wept because I thought, ‘Who knows? The Lord may be gracious to me and let him live.’ But now that he is dead, why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I’ll go to him, but he will never return to me.”

We don’t know why God elected to take Michael, but we do know that “his ways are higher than our ways” (Isaiah 55:9) and that “all things work together for those that love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romas 5:28). I often think that if there was just one person on staff at the hospital or one person at Michael’s memorial service whose relationship with God was positively impacted through Michael’s time with us, then, while I may not understand God’s ways, that one person drawing closer to God would be a blessing beyond measure. One thing I do know is that we have had countless opportunities to come alongside and minister to others who have also lost a child and to share our story.

Following Michael, we had two other children, who are now adults and out on their own. Still, we remember Michael with a spirit of anticipation to this day. His Christmas ornament is the first decoration to go on the Christmas tree and the last to come off. But we especially look with anticipation to that time to which King David looked when we will again see Michael, for although he will never return to us, we will one day go to him where he is – in the presence of our Lord and Savior, Christ Jesus.