Baby John

Desperate. Alone. Terrified. Incapable. Unworthy. Unsupported.

This is how someone can feel, to say the least, when faced with an unplanned pregnancy. In fact, I know many women feel this way during a PLANNED pregnancy. It is in many ways normal. It can go to such deep levels of isolation and panic, that women choose to terminate the pregnancy or rip the birthed child out of their arms and give to another to raise. Both can be gut wrenching decisions.

Yesterday, as happens on many days, a little baby was left outside of a church in a presumably safe way to offer it a better life by someone(s) experiencing strong, varied pain and suffering.

Sadness filled my heart yesterday. Tears streamed down my face before I could catch my breath. Because this wasn't any church. This church, St. John's Episcopal, is here in Atlanta. It is one I personally frequent (the only church I step foot into, actually) because my dear, dear friend is the Rector. I go to see the light and joy emanate from this remarkable man; to support the fruition of his dreams; to be a witness to intention manifest on that altar; and to shower myself in the rapture and joy of that vision and his blessing.

Others see the light and safety that Troy offers to any and all as well. And yesterday, they attempted to demonstrate that trust in a monumental way. A little boy was left outside the door in the beautiful gardens, perhaps because the doors were locked or because someone did not want to be seen, on one of our coldest days. Baby John, this little newborn born unto clearly difficult and tragic circumstances, died shortly after from cold exposure.

Already as I write this, I can see how flat I am. How choppy my writing is. Trying to disconnect a little. To avoid overwhelm. I am just deeply sad. For all of it. For the baby. For the mother. For whomever dropped him off. For the person who found him. For Father Troy. For the physicians and nurses at the hospital. It just goes on and on.

All night, I was composing an eloquent essay in my mind about the beauty and light of a child, about what a profound mission this little soul chose to bear in this world, the affect his very short life has had on expanding the lives and souls of so many he will never meet, about our lack of social support that leads to such a tragedy, the power of education that may have altered this outcome, how to establish an atmosphere of love and support rather than fear and judgement for at-risk groups...but it all seems relatively insignificant right now.

I hope Baby John is blissful and free and his mission complete. I hope his mother gets help to end her suffering and deep agony. I hope everyone involved has a bigger, more expansive heart and larger capacity for love after experiencing such pain.

I knelt at my son's bed last night, and just sobbed while rubbing his beautiful sleeping head. Finally allowing gratitude to rescue me from my pain. I hope it can save others as well.

I never met you, but I love you.

Service for Baby John is this Sunday February 14, 2010 at 2 pm at St. John's of College Park

St. John's Episcopal Church
3480 E. Main St.
College Park, GA 30337Phone: (404) 761-8402
Fax: (404) 761-8403