TN Smart Girl

Below is a post that I wrote on January, 2011. But first, I have to tell the rest of the story. Praise God, my son is currently in a Christian discipleship program and God is working a miracle in his heart. Only God can heal the fallout…

The experience described below pushed my son over the edge. He started drinking, then using drugs, to kill the pain in his heart. Today is April 11, 2012, and he has been fighting an addiction to opiates, Oxycontin and Roxycontin, for almost 2 years. First he swallowed them, then he snorted them, then he started injecting them. He has been through rehab, he has been clean for weeks or months, and then relapsed, then been clean, then relapsed. Today, he is clean but there really is no promise that he will be tomorrow. He wants to be, but he is in bondage.

He has been on a rollercoaster. So have I. He is making progress in his recovery, but it is hard. He has lost more than his child…

He had a 4.0 GPA in high school. He led worship in our church. He is an extremely gifted musician, vocalist, and actor. But his dreams are in ashes…He lost a full scholarship, he has lost at least 3 jobs, he has lost more money than I care to think about. He has stolen from every member of our family to support his habit. He has destroyed the trust of everyone who loves him. He has been in jail twice and is on probation.

His life became a trainwreck. And a young woman’s ‘right to choose’ without his knowledge or consent pulled the switch that started the train. Men hurt too…

I don’t know how to say goodbye…
Originally Posted: January 26, 2011

For those who believe that abortion is just a choice that a woman makes, one that should be left to her and to her alone, please read on. Abortion breaks the hearts of men, too. It breaks the hearts of grandparents, and the hearts of uncles and aunts. It breaks the heart of God.

This is a true story about my son and the baby he named Gabriel…

Early last summer, my son was told by a young woman with whom he had had a casual sexual encounter that she was pregnant. He didn’t tell anyone for four months, but God finally broke through his denial in late October and he told me. Since the end of July, this young woman had been sending him text messages about his child. He had an ultrasound picture-at about 20 week gestation-that was sent to his phone of the baby she said was his son. I had the same picture on my phone the day after he told me about this child.

She sent these messages several times a day with comments like ‘your son likes Oreos’ or ‘your son doesn’t like tacos’. They talked about how he would play football. They talked about what he would look like. She went into great detail about her visits to the doctor, always saying her mom took her. She said her mom wanted to raise Gabriel, but that my son could be as involved as he wanted to be. She told me these same things. She and I talked several times on Facebook about her doctor visits, her heartburn, and her questions about pregnancy.

We welcomed her into our home and we welcomed the child into our family and into our hearts. My daughter-in-law gave her a basket full of baby items for him. Gabriel had Christmas gifts in my closet right beside those for my granddaughter and grandson.

Then, suddenly, in late November my son received a message saying that she was having cramps and that her mom took her to the doctor. She said that his child was ‘small for dates’. She said that the MD was putting her on bed rest to try and avoid premature labor. She said they wanted to give his lungs a chance to mature. She said she was going to stay at her mom’s.

Somehow, it had never been convenient for her for my son to go to the doctor with her, or to go to her mom’s home. But he did manage to get her mother’s phone number from a mutual friend and so, that evening, I called her mother. I told her my name, that I was his mother. She said nothing for a second, then just a rather confused “yes?” I said that her daughter had told my son that she had been to the doctor and was experiencing complications, and that I wanted to know if she was alright and if there was anything we could do. She was silent for a few seconds, and then said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about…..”

There was no baby. The young lady aborted him early in the pregnancy, but continued to let my son, and ultimately the rest of my family, believe that he was alive. It was such an elaborate web of lies that it is almost beyond belief. I told her mother enough of it to impress upon her that her daughter is in serious need of professional help, and I said I would pray for them. I don’t know what happened to her. I continue to pray for her healing.

What my son did was wrong, and he knows that. He stepped up to the plate and took responsibility for his actions. He asked God for forgiveness. He asked our church family for forgiveness. I am so very proud of him for that. I don’t think I could have done what he did.

He was never in love with this young woman, but he did fall in love with Gabriel. So did I. But Gabriel’s birth was just the fantasy of a very disturbed young woman. There has been a death in our family. My son, my grown son of 23, so strong, so confident, cried his heart out for days on end. So did I.

When I am in pain, God uses writing to help heal my heart. In my grief last winter, I wrote these words:

I don’t know how to say goodbye…

God desires for us to pour out our hearts to Him, to offer up to Him the deepest pain in our hearts. He cannot heal what we do not allow Him to touch. This is a lesson that I have learned the hard way, because for many years I thought that if I denied feeling pain, if I pretended everything was ok, then the hurt would go away and nobody would know. Nothing could be further from the truth.

I couldn’t sleep last night, so I started writing, trying to make some kind of sense out of this loss…

“Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am in distress;
my eye is wasted from grief;
my soul and my body also.
For my life is spent with sorrow,
and my years with sighing;
my strength fails…” Psalm 31:9-10

Our “little angel that came out of nowhere” only existed in the mind of a very sick young lady. But to us, he was still very much alive.

I don’t know how to say goodbye…

How can something seem so real when it has vanished?
How can you love someone so much that will never exist in this world?

Brown curly hair…
with just a touch of ‘nappy’.

Perfectly soft sweet skin…
just a bit darker than mine.

Dancing green eyes…
that sometimes seem brown, or grey.

Chubby little arms with ten perfect fingers…
reaching up to be held.

Chubby little legs with ten perfect toes…
running into my arms.

Bumps and bruises…
as he learned to crawl, then walk, then run.

The voice of an angel…
singing silly made up songs.

Getting into everything…
as little boys do.

There were already so many dreams…

His first Christmas, lights dancing in his eyes…
playing around the tree with his cousins…

His first birthday…
cake and ice cream smeared all over his face…

His first day of school…
tears and excitement rolled into one…

Playing football…
a slightly crazy linebacker with no fear…

Singing and acting and dancing…
gifts and talents sent straight from heaven…

His name was Gabriel…

He never got a chance to live,
but still, I’ve lost a piece of my heart…

I don’t know how to say goodbye…

My prayer is that God will be glorified through this experience that is so beyond my understanding. I know that He holds us in His hand, I know that He will bring us through this nightmare together, just as He has brought us through so many times before. Although this deception was unquestionably evil and meant by Satan to destroy, I know that God will take it and use it for good.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:11-13

Abortion kills a child and wounds a mother. Perhaps the experience of abortion caused this young lady’s psychological problems. Perhaps she had them already. I don’t know. What I DO know is that I would have gladly taken my grandson and raised him as my own. His name was Gabriel