Guest Author - Teri Blair, guest writer

Several years ago I was involved in a community theater production. It was quite a show, lots of people and lots of rehearsals. In fact, there were so many people involved that I didn’t get to know even a fraction of them. I often just knew their character’s name or what job they did behind the scenes.

Many months after the play was over, I heard that one of the women from the play had had a miscarriage. It had been particularly devastating because she had had so many miscarriages before, and this baby she had carried through the sixth or seventh month. Their hopes had really been up that it would work out this time. There had been a funeral for the little boy, and the parents had been crushed—absolutely devastated. The people telling me the story said that all those around were very concerned for the parents, hard as they were taking the loss.

The mother of the baby was one of the people I only saw from a distance during the play. Eventually, I forgot all about her and her husband. And then, last week I saw the father. I was sitting on my front stoop reading, and he walked by. I remembered when I saw him that they lived somewhere in my neighborhood. So it wasn’t entirely a surprise to see him.

When he was at a distance, I could see that he was carrying something, and walking very slowly with it. When he got closer, I could see it was a baby, a little Korean boy. The father held the infant close to his cheek, and as he neared my house, I could see clearly the man’s face. His expression was full of love. If he had been speaking, he would have been saying something like, “You are my son. I adore you. I can’t imagine living my life without you. You are everything I have hoped for. You’re exactly perfect.” Usually when I see parents out with their little children, the children are in strollers. Often the outing is a part of their parent’s exercise program as they are scooted along in a jogging stroller. Not so with this dad. He held the baby as close as he could. He walked slowly, savoring.

When this couple went through all the miscarriages, I can only imagine how cheated they felt, how discouraged, how hopeless. I am sure they went through many a sleepless night, crying, and wondering why their dreams couldn’t come true. I would guess after they came home from the funeral of their first child, they felt they didn’t have anything to look forward to. That’s sure how I would have felt. Perhaps by now they may have answers for why they couldn’t have biological children, but maybe they never will. The children they lost will cross their minds for the rest of their lives.

There was a different path waiting for them. Not the one they originally planned on, but another wonderful, loving option. But now, judging by the father’s actions and face, they have just what they want. They can’t imagine their family without this little cherub who came to them from the other side of the world.

Life turns a corner, when we let it.