Torch, Spring/Summer 2007

On that first day, Mike had to go back to work, but Kristin and her mother immediately went to church to talk with their pastor. Pastor John got right to the point: “You probably already know this, but the doctor is going to want you to have an abortion.” He prayed with them, and they thought carefully about what they would say to the specialist. The appointment was scheduled for the next day. The following day, the perinatologist was surprisingly sensitive to the frightened couple. Even as the doctor confirmed the diagnosis, he gently and kindly asked them about their wishes. For Kristin and Mike, their response was clear: “We are going to carry this baby.” The specialist’s sensitive interaction with Mike and Kristin is part of a growing trend in obstetric medicine. It is no longer routine to recommend pregnancy termination when a fatal diagnosis is found. An alternative to abortion is the compassionate practice known as perinatal hospice, with more than 40 centers in the United States. Such programs provide support and encouragement for those who choose to continue pregnancy in spite of a grim prognosis for the baby. Though no such program is available in the town where Kristin and Mike live, they had a sympathetic physician and a church that surrounded them with love and support. I first met Kristin last November, when she came to my office to tell me her story. At the time I met her, she was 29 weeks pregnant and uncertain about what the future had in store. Kristin did not yet know when she would go into labor or even if she would get to hold her baby. We talked together, prayed together, and even cried a bit. Kristin impressed me with her clarity and her calm demeanor. She didn’t know why God had allowed this difficult trial to come her way, but she trusted Him with a simple and uncomplicated faith. T The dreaded phone call came on Thursday, December 14. Kristin’s mom told me that her daughter had gone into labor the day before and had delivered early that morning. Noah Scott weighed 5 pounds 6 ounces and had dark hair and deep blue eyes, just like the two other boys. Mom and Dad and the grandparents all got to be with him during his short life, which lasted an hour and 42 minutes. Trent and Drew were able to hold, hug, and kiss their little brother after he died. The memorial service at Mike and Kristin’s church was a celebration. They had received e-mails from all over the world, and the church was full. Family members and friends gave testimonies, sang songs, and showed a slide show of Noah as he responded to his mother’s loving touch. In my first encounter with Kristin, I welcomed the opportunity to minister to another, to encourage a sister in Christ. I even thought we could take a stand for the sanctity of life and make a moral statement against abortion in the midst of our contemporary culture of death. However, Kristin’s goals were much more basic — she had no grand pro-life agenda, and she certainly had no intention of making a social comment. All she wanted to do was to love her baby. And she did so, beautifully and with great dignity. More than pro-life rallies or letters to the editor, Kristin’s unqualified love for Noah has made a simple but profound statement to the world. J. Vernon McGhee once said, “A brief life is not an incomplete life.” Noah Scott lived for just moments on this earth, but he touched many others. And he was loved — by his parents surely, but most of all by a Heavenly Father who makes no mistakes. Disguised as a medical tragedy, Noah Scott became a true blessing. Spring-Summer 2007 25 She didn’t know why God had allowed this difficult trial to come her way, but she trusted Him with a simple and uncomplicated faith.