Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/5WwXrUs4Ct4/
This post contains an excerpt from GETTING GRIEF RIGHT: Finding Your Story of Love in the Sorrow of Loss, by Patrick O’Malley, PhD with Tim Madigan.
It was spring 1980 when my wife, Nancy, and I received some of the best news of our lives—she was pregnant with our first child.
On a Tuesday morning that September, we found ourselves sitting in her obstetrician’s office. Nancy, not due to deliver for three months, had been awakened the night before by a strange physical sensation.
She had wanted to get checked out, just to be safe. But after the examination that morning, her doctor said we needed t get to the hospital. Labor had begun. I remember how Nancy’s voice trembled.
“Can a baby this premature live?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” the doctor said. “We will try to buy time. He will be a pipsqueak of a kid.”
Thirty-six hours later, on September 3, 1980, Ryan Palmer O’Malley was born, weighing a little over two pounds. You couldn’t have imagined a more fragile looking creature. He had been far from ready to leave his mother’s womb, yet there he was.
In the first few moments of his life, I was aware of the great risk of loving my son, but I was powerless to resist. Fr…
Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/5WwXrUs4Ct4/
This post contains an excerpt from GETTING GRIEF RIGHT: Finding Your Story of Love in the Sorrow of Loss, by Patrick O’Malley, PhD with Tim Madigan.
It was spring 1980 when my wife, Nancy, and I received some of the best news of our lives—she was pregnant with our first child.
On a Tuesday morning that September, we found ourselves sitting in her obstetrician’s office. Nancy, not due to deliver for three months, had been awakened the night before by a strange physical sensation.
She had wanted to get checked out, just to be safe. But after the examination that morning, her doctor said we needed t get to the hospital. Labor had begun. I remember how Nancy’s voice trembled.
“Can a baby this premature live?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” the doctor said. “We will try to buy time. He will be a pipsqueak of a kid.”
Thirty-six hours later, on September 3, 1980, Ryan Palmer O’Malley was born, weighing a little over two pounds. You couldn’t have imagined a more fragile looking creature. He had been far from ready to leave his mother’s womb, yet there he was.
In the first few moments of his life, I was aware of the great risk of loving my son, but I was powerless to resist. Fr…
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