29/12/2020
STORY NO. 27 GOD AT WORK
The Promised Child
PLTCOL Lyndon G. Cubos
Keeper Magazine 2002
“Having married for almost 3 years, we were so excited knowing that my wife is pregnant for
the first time. We were married in November 23, 1991. But we did not plan to have a family
at once for the reason that I was assigned with the Special Action Force and later joined the
PNP contingent to Cambodia’s UNTAC. In fact, we spent our first anniversary separately, I
was in Phnom Penh and Michelle was in Manila.
Sometime in September 1994 our doctor told us that I was going to be a father soon.
Perhaps that was one of the best feeling we had as a couple. Because Christmas was fast
approaching, we joined the shoppers looking not for gifts but for diapers, cribs, feeding
bottles, etc. It was fun preparing and looking forward to beholding our baby.
However, the excitement was brief, because on Christmas Eve of 1994 I rushed Michelle to
St. Luke’s Hospital. Our hearts cried to God from the agony of losing our three-month old
baby. As a husband and an expectant father, the pain was unbearable. It seemed like God
was so unfair to us - with the world celebrating while we were agonizing with the loss of our
first baby.
With not much of a choice, we had to move on with our lives. Trying to live a normal life and
leaving the emotional scars behind was not easy. But God has sustained us in every way.
Several months after, our doctor confirmed that my wife was again pregnant. Happy?
Absolutely! But at the same time, we were confronted with questions and fears. Three
months, four months, five months, six months of normal pregnancy… everything seemed
well this time. So were our advance preparations. The fear that we previously had was overpowered by excitement. Our regular monthly check-ups were very reassuring. The
succeeding months were very colorful. Figuring out what to name the baby was a funny and
wonderful experience. Preparing the baby’s room and buying the stuff to fill it was a thrill.
The 8th month came. Again, we were headed to the doctor’s clinic for regular check-up. The
doctor, suspecting that there was something wrong with the baby, asked Michelle to have
an ultrasound immediately. The ultrasound confirmed the doctor’s diagnosis and opined a
remote possibility for this to be remedied through the surgery within the uterus. We
immediately asked for a second and a third opinion. The same diagnoses were given. We felt helpless. If only we were in a “first world” country or were filthy rich, maybe we could avail the services of the best doctor to correct our baby’s deficiency.
We lamented. Left without anything we can do to remedy the situation. My wife and I cried
practically the whole night. We then left everything to God. In the process, we talked to our baby telling her that we were very sorry about her condition, but we were excited to see her born. Surprisingly, she seemed to have understood what we were telling her. She responded by kicking continuously for about thirty minutes.
A few hours before midnight of December 31, 1995, I rushed Michelle to the hospital. She
was operated on. A few minutes later our baby was wheeled out of the delivery room. Her
heart was beating, but she was not breathing. She died a few hours later.
It was almost 12 midnight. I left the hospital to take some fresh air and tried to process what
was going on until I reached a Burger Machine outlet. By that time the noise of fireworks
could already be heard. The world was beginning to celebrate the coming of a new year, but I was left alone in that small corner. Soon the deafening explosion of fireworks was on the air. The blowing of horns and all kinds of sounds welcoming the arrival of the New Year. A hamburger and a cold soda were my “medya noche”.
Wherever I went, the people were in their festive spirits while my heart was in a deep agonizing pain.
Losing our first child on Christmas Eve and our second child on the New Year’s Day were
cruel experiences that locked us in deep despair. Christmas and New Year had suddenly lost their meaning. These special dates became traumatic to us.
After that ordeal, Michelle for a while lost interest in going to church. We even avoided
attending children’s parties in order not to be reminded of our loss. The pain was haunting
us continually, whatever we do, wherever we are. Again, our hearts cried to God. Why us
Lord… why us?
After these two traumatic incidents, we asked ourselves, should we try to have another child
again? That mind-boggling and heart-breaking question confronted us for the next two
years. The pain was still unbearable. But we have to act in faith as we sought for more
professional advice. I learned later that my Nanay had three miscarriages before our eldest was born. Michelle’s Lola had the same number of unsuccessful pregnancies before her mother was born.
Trusting God, we decided to let go of our anxieties and pains. And for the third time –
Michelle conceived. The fear of another miscarriage kept our joy guarded. Because of her two high-risk pregnancies, the doctor prescribed that Michelle should limit some of her activities. Afraid of another frustration, we even tried to withhold that supposedly happy
news to our families and close friends. We were very vulnerable. But God has been our
strength and guide.
Just like our previous experiences, going to the doctor for check-up became a routine. Like
before, we played the waiting game. Like before, we came up with our checklist of what to bring to the hospital – a camera, toiletries, a going home outfit for the baby, diapers and
other small items. All of these preparations are supposed to be exciting. While other parents
were excited as they prepared for the birth of their baby fear and shadow of doubts are
lingering in our hearts and minds every now and then.
The company of our friends and support of our loved ones lessened our feelings of uncertainty. We really value their presence and moral support. They help ease the doubts
and fears we have. Their prayers and words of encouragements were comforting and very
reassuring. We learn to trust the Lord one day at a time. Pleading to the Lord that He would
continually preserve and protect the baby in Michelle’s womb on a daily basis.
God answered and honored our hearts’ cry. The baby reached its full term without any major
problem.
Finally, on the night of April 11, 1997, I drove Michelle to Cardinal Santos Hospital
and immediately brought her to the Delivery Room. I was asked by the doctor to witness the operation, and so nervously with my camera in tow, I entered the delivery room in my green “uniform”. At about 8 in the morning the following day, just a week before Easter, God has finally gifted us with a beautiful baby girl! We named her Bianca Ysabel.
Her name means “dedicated to God”.
We praise and thank God for giving Ysabel to us. This child has given us back the reason to
celebrate Christmas and New Year. Christmas carols and the crazy, deafening sounds during
New Year’s Eve are again music to our ears, lifting our spirits to celebrate the goodness of
the Lord!
Twelve years after, the Lord has rewarded us with a baby boy on October 14, 2009. We
named him Benjamin. The Lord has given us so much joy with a smart and healthy son.
Ysabel is now in the United States of America pursuing a law career. She has grown to be a
beautiful intelligent woman who fears the Lord. Most of our friends say that she looks like
her Mom. I would surely agree.
Our children have become our source of inspiration as we move in this life. We are carrying this challenging and exciting family journey with gladness. God knows best. We cannot brag about what we have achieved. It is only by his mercy and grace.
