Death is Like Birth

photo credit: h.koppdelaney photo credit: rum­pleteaser

I want to share a let­ter writ­ten by my daugh­ter to a fam­ily mem­ber fac­ing emi­nent death from a cat­a­strophic ill­ness. In it Jaque­tta shares the sim­i­lar­ity between the processes of birth and death. I hope you find it to be as beau­ti­ful and pow­er­ful as I did.

Ray,
I was think­ing about you this morn­ing and for some rea­son I was reminded of the day before Isabella was born. I was two weeks late but I was deter­mined to have a nat­ural birth process. I went to the doc­tor to find out if I might go into labor soon. Instead, to my hor­ror, I was told that I needed to have a cesarean asap. No induce­ment, no try­ing for a reg­u­lar deliv­ery — just an appoint­ment for the surgery.
In shock, I made an appoint­ment for the next morning.

I went home and became increas­ingly angry — how dare they take away this oppor­tu­nity!
How dare they give me no choice!

So, I called my Doc­tor and told her I was not going to be there in the morn­ing and that I was going to have this baby on my own terms. My doc­tor came to the phone right away when her nurse passed along the mes­sage. She explained to me that it was dan­ger­ous for me to wait, that my life, the baby’s life were at high risk. And even if we both sur­vived, I could have all sorts of com­pli­ca­tions and the baby might become brain dam­aged as a result.

So, I resigned myself to go through this dreaded oper­a­tion even though it meant my recov­ery would be slower and I would lose the thrill of deliv­er­ing a baby “nat­u­rally.” I rec­on­ciled myself to the fact that nat­ural birth would not be some­thing I would ever get to expe­ri­ence. But the rec­on­cil­ing did not come eas­ily — First I had a tantrum. I sat on the bath­room floor scream­ing, kick­ing, sob­bing “I DON“T WANT A CESAREAN!!!!” I cried for a long time.

Early the next morn­ing, still raw from cry­ing and in dis­be­lief that I was just going to let this hap­pen, I arrived for the surgery as planned. And then the mir­a­cle hap­pened. Just moments before it was time for the c-section, it hit me. I was about to have a BABY. (And I didn’t know if it was a girl or boy yet) and I truly set­tled into the expe­ri­ence. Min­utes later I heard my baby cry­ing and the doc­tor said “You have a girl! — And she has a nice set of lungs on her!”

I was so over­taken with the joy and won­der­ment of it all that my grief was com­pletely washed away. It was all worth it. There were no regrets. I cried dif­fer­ent tears now, ones of joy and gratitude.

Well, I don’t know what dying is like, but I think it might be a lot like being born. At first it seems hor­ri­ble and scary, but I think, just like my expe­ri­ence with the c-section, it might just turn into a thing of pure joy. Can you imag­ine what God has wait­ing for us on the other side? There must be a rea­son they call it heaven.

This sud­den sick­ness has been a shock to all of us. It is hard to believe that this could pos­si­bly be the end. Even though I am very sad and I know that every end­ing is scary, it’s also true that the begin­ning of your new life is ever so close and what­ever form that new life is, I’m sure it will be exhil­a­rat­ing and wonderful.

I love you. I love all the joy you have brought us. You are a sweet, sweet soul and you have hon­ored our fam­ily by being part of it. Thank you.
May God bless you with courage and strength in the times ahead.

With much love,
Jaquetta