I must be a terrible person
In the midst of trouble and suffering, it is hard to
remember that God still loves us. But that is when we must
hold ever more tightly to his hand, and wait for him to work
things out. No one knows this better than Susan (last name
deleted).
In December, 1965, Susan had just had her second baby,
another daughter, Balinda. Her two-year-old, Annette, became
the baby's "second mother," always checking to make sure the
baby was warm and dry. Susan and her husband were delighted
with their daughters and the life they were making for their
family. During that time, "We were in the process of moving
from Moweaqua, a little town in Illinois, to Crown Point,
Indiana," Susan says, "and one day I left the baby with my
mother-in-law while I moved the last load from our old
home." Susan's sister-in-law, little Annette and Susan
dropped off the final load in Crown Pointe. On their way
back to Moweaqua, Susan was involved in a car accident.
Annette was killed instantly.
There is no way to describe the trauma of losing a child, of
whatever age. But Susan did the best she could to go on with
her life. Months passed, and in June, she discovered she was
expecting again. For the first time since Annette's death,
Susan felt happy. "The new baby would give Balinda someone
to grow up with," she says, "and perhaps it would even help
to fill the terrible void Annette had left." No one could
take her daughter's place, but perhaps things wouldn't seem
so empty now.
However, it was not to be. Just a few months later, Susan
was rushed to the hospital. The baby, another daughter, was
stillborn. Worse, doctors told Susan that she would never be
able to have any more children.
It was another terrible blow. Susan looked in the mirror
"and saw a person that God must not like very much. If he
loved me, why did so many bad things happen to me?" she
wondered. "I must be a terrible person." Shortly after
Balinda's first birthday, the sorrow completely overwhelmed
her. "After my husband left for work one morning, I took
Balinda to my mother's house and asked her to babysit for
me," Susan recalls. "Had my mother known what I had planned,
she would never have left me walk out the door."
Susan went home, locked the door, closed all the curtains
and sat down at her table with a large glass of water and a
pile of pills. She wrote letters to her parents, her
sisters, and her husband, telling them how sorry she was to
be killing herself, but explaining that she was no good, and
surely not the mother she should be.why else would God have
taken two of her babies?
Then, reluctantly, she began her letter to Balinda. How
would she tell her baby daughter how much she loved her? "I
want you to have a good life," she began, "You'll be a lot
better off without me."
.Suddenly, the front door opened!
Susan almost screamed. She had definitely locked the front
door, and her husband had the only other key. But there
stood her husband. face. "What are you doing home?" Susan
asked him.
Her husband's eyes traveled to the water and the pills in
front of her. Immediately he realized what Susan was
attempting to do, and he rushed to the table, grabbed the
pills and threw them all into the toilet. "Susan, you can't
do this!" he protested. "We all need you!" Susan burst into
tears.
The machine Susan's husband had been working on that day had
broken down, and no one could find a replacement part. So
her husband had been sent home early, the first time such a
thing had ever happened to him. (Even more unusual, the
replacement part was located just moments after he left the
building.) "I think the angels were all over that one!"
Susan says.
Most likely Susan was suffering from postpartum depression,
but in 1965, not much was known about this difficult
situation. Coupled with the grief over the loss of Annette,
it had all become too much for her. But now that people
knew, Susan was surrounded with help and care, and gradually
she came to see that this desperate act was not the answer.
In fact, God had planned a wonderful life for her, including
a baby boy, born five years later despite the doctors'
predictions.
"Now here it is 2004, and when I look back, I thank God for
each and every experience," Susan says. "Had I succeeded
that day, I would have missed out on so many blessings-my
son and daughter's beautiful children, my family and
friends.I am so thankful that His angels watched over me,
and I know He walks with me moment by moment."
Susan hopes that anyone who is contemplating suicide or has
lost a child may read this and understand that it is okay to
go on. "You cannot curl up and die," she says. "Life goes
on, and it can be a most beautiful and blessed life too."
Just hold on, and trust.
Joan Anderson
joan@joanwanderson.com
Copyrighted 2004. For more examples of God's love, check the website: www.joanwanderson.com