In the bleakest draught of hidden light
A prism struggles to gleam bright
Daggers twist about the air
Their purpose hidden in it's despair
A groan, a cry, a desperate bout
echoing silence with an endless shout
A flow of tranquility beyond the deep
quenching flames of direst need.
Copyright 2013
Monday, April 22, 2013
Sunday, April 7, 2013
The Memory of Danny Thompson
(A short story)
It is hard to imagine that Tanya and I embarked on this incredible journey a mere nine years ago. As I look around this elegant ballroom I see so many of the faces I have grown to love over these many difficult and trying years. While I prepare to ascend the steps of the stage to accept the Excellence in Clinical Research Award. I cannot help but reflect on my past and the specific events in my life that has ushered me toward such an accomplishment. Looking at my beautiful wife Tanya who has given nothing but support, I realize I could not have hoped for a more devoted and loving partner.
My mind drifts back to our second year in college where we both studied medicine at UCLA. I was outgoing and headstrong while she was soft spoken, tenderhearted, and had a real love for God. We were quite the odd couple but I was determined to make it work and knew right away I could deny her nothing.
We dated for three months before I finally persuaded her to take our relationship further. Tanya was uneasy at first but with a little more pressure she eventually gave in. After all, we loved each other and wanted to spend the rest of our lives together and this seemed like the next step. We always played it safe, so my shock was quite evident when she shared her life-altering news one night over dinner. I wasn’t ready to be a father just then nor did I think I would ever be.
“We’re still young, what about our dreams Tanya? Have you considered what having a child right now would do to the plans we’ve made? There is too much at stake to even start contemplating a family this soon,” I pleaded. I could tell that I had hurt her, but what she wanted was impossible. Was she really willing to throw away her dreams so she could raise a child? I planned to stand my ground but was completely unprepared for her next words.
“But Danny, it is already done. You’re a father now, even if our child has yet to be born,” she reasoned with me. I gave a loud sigh. She had me there. How could I possibly argue with that logic and yet keep our relationship alive?
“We can always look into adoption. The baby will have a good home with loving parents who are both emotionally and financially ready for that type of commitment,” I countered quickly.
Looking resolute in her decision she said, “We can still live out our dreams while raising this child and I will do whatever it takes to make that happen. I will take time off from school and work part-time until you graduate and complete your residency. Don’t you realize that this child was a gift from God meant just for us?” In my heart I knew she had won the argument.
Though she had talked me out of adoption, I still felt uneasy about raising a child. Flashbacks from my early childhood reminded me of the beatings I’d been forced to witness my mother endure at the hands of my drunken father. Not only did she shield me from his attacks but when he was gone she would gather me in her arms, rocking me while sobbing softly.
Whispering in an almost pleading way she’d say, “It’s okay, Danny. Mommy loves you and will keep you safe, I will protect you.” I would lay against her, my hear resting on her chest as her heart thudded in a strong steady rhythm. It was just her and I in the world and nothing else mattered. What if I could not give that kind of selfless love to this child, or worse become like the man I once feared?
I still had my doubts until our 19 week check-up. The excitement finally began to affect me as I realized perhaps we were making the right decision after all. Seeing my little baby on the monitor sealed the deal. I knew I would do anything for this child.
“I hope you like the color pink because you’ll be seeing a lot of it; you’re having a girl!”, the radiologist happily announced.
Thoughts of a future filled with baby dolls and daddy-daughter dances began to play through my mind. Tanya and I held hands lost in our own thoughts imagining our new life as a trio when we suddenly realized the radiologist had grown very quiet.
“Is everything okay?” Tanya asked.
“I’m not at liberty to say, but the doctor will go over the results of the exam when he sees you.” She said. I felt Tanya tense up.
We waited anxiously for our obstetrician to come into the exam room and tell us everything looked great, but that would have been a lie. With heavy hearts we walked slowly into his cold, sterile office preparing ourselves for the news to come.
“The sonogram has revealed an abnormality in the fetus’ lung development. I suspect that Cystic Fibrosis is the prognosis but I cannot be certain until the results of the blood work come back. I must tell you, however, I’ve seen symptoms like this before and it doesn’t look promising. Fortunately you are not too far into this pregnancy and can choose to terminate it and try again within a few months.”
“How can you even suggest ending my pregnancy?” Tanya asked with trembling lips, “My child is alive; come feel her kick as she moves around!”
“I am not trying to be cruel” the doctor said. “I just want you to understand that if I am correct about this you can expect a future filled with frequent medications, breathing treatments, and hospitalizations just to keep her alive. That is no life for a child.”
I gripped the armrest of my chair because the room felt as if it were spinning. I once feared I might not be able to protect my child but now it seemed even her own body was attacking her. Tanya, however, was unmovable in her decision that our baby deserved a chance at life and only God would have the final say.
We began seeing a specialist for the prenatal care of our daughter. It was during this crisis I began to attend church for the first time in my life hoping to find comfort. Temple Baptist Church became our home as Pastor Carlos quickly made Tanya and I feel like part of the family. As I poured myself into the Word of God I felt His desire for a relationship with me. Two months before the birth of my daughter I surrendered my life over to the Lord. At that moment peace descended on me as I realized God was in full control of my child’s life and that He loved her more than I ever could. Regardless of the outcome, I knew everything was going to be okay.
Tanya and I joined our church and set a date to get married that fall. From here on out we were going to live our lives God’s way.
Jennifer Nevaeh Thompson was born two days before her due date weighing a healthy seven pounds, six ounces. Her hair was jet black and thick with curls; her lips plump and rosy. The doctors were quick to rush her away to the NICU after birth until she could stabilize and breathe on her own. After many long weeks we were finally able bring her home.
Jennifer was a perfect baby in that she wasn’t very fussy, slept through the night and ate very well. She was our beloved miracle child and we treasured every moment with her as if it were the last. Her lungs, not opening fully, sounded wet and raspy as she took each breath. It was hard to see my little angel attached to a nebulizer every day knowing that she would be dependent on several medications for the rest of her life.
It was with this frustration I joined a medical research team in search of a cure to end this debilitating disease and ease the lives of those afflicted with it. Beginning my study I was greatly saddened to discover that eighty percent of families faced with the reality of Cystic Fibrosis and other challenging medical problems choose to terminate their pregnancies. I found myself struggling with the knowledge that many medical professionals felt this decision was in the best interest of the family and actually encouraged them in making it. How wrong they were, and children were paying for it with their lives! With this realization I vowed to stop at nothing until a cure was found.
I clearly remember my dear Jennifer’s fifth birthday as if it were only yesterday. We joyously celebrated a life that had flourished five years longer than doctors believed possible. Every day was a challenge as she constantly relied on multiple medications to help her lungs function properly and she could not physically exert herself very much. Our weekly schedule consisted of trips to the doctor’s office, pharmacy, and physical therapy. Though Jennifer’s life seemed harder than most children, she was always filled with such love and enjoyed every day to the fullest. I could never imagine a world without her in it.
It was during this time we made serious progress with our research by isolating and repairing the mutated CFTR gene. Jennifer was among the first treated in clinical studies at age eight and her symptoms quickly began to subside. Though the medical community treated this as a gold mine, my family knew this miracle for what it truly was: an answer to our prayers.
Jennifer’s brush with destiny has been a turning point for her. As if in mockery to the doctors who wished to deny her life, she has begun to swim, run and play games like other children her age. Having seen a real need of love and compassion for children suffering from disabilities, she began to befriend and mentor those in need. Just last week she read me an essay she wrote for school. In it she said she was going to be a doctor just like her daddy when she grew up. I couldn’t be more proud of my little girl.
With that last thought, a bone-chilling shiver pulls Danny back into the banquet hall. It was time to give his speech. As Danny Thompson stood up from his seat and approached the podium, a strange feeling began to creep over him. Looking to his family to see if they too had noticed the change in atmosphere his eyes rested upon his daughter. Never looking away from her father, Jennifer simply vanished from her chair as if she never existed. Startled and frightened, he turned to Tanya in hopes she could make sense of what had just occurred, but as he did so, she along with everyone else in the room began to flicker and fade from sight. Darkness consumed the room almost immediately and the tables appeared overturned and unused.
Danny cried out as he stood completely alone and lost in this abandoned hall when suddenly a woman’s sobs intruded upon the foreboding silence. Her words hauntingly echoed her misery throughout the room. Danny held his breath so that he could make out the meaning in her words.
“Mommy loves you and I wanted to keep you safe,”
His knees began to buckle as he heard the last words come out in a choked cry,
“I am so sorry Danny! Why didn’t I protect you?”
And with that sudden revelation, Danny ceased to be. Danny Thompson’s mother had succumbed to the pressure of her boyfriend and made the choice to abort her child. Everything that Danny was and would have accomplished could never be. Along with the loss of a great man who would have benefited society, beautiful Jennifer was never allowed the chance to come into being.
Just how many lives does one abortion affect?
Copyright 2012
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