A letter in memory of Hudson Wayne Behar
My dear little Hudson,
“Hey Baby, Daddy Here!” That's the way I always used to greet you when you were inside momma's tummy. You just can't imagine how much I have enjoyed being your daddy. Even though you were only with us for about 51 hours, those 51 hours changed my life . . .
What a wonderful kid you were! Before you were born I was skeptical about my ability and desire to be your daddy, but when you were born, the “light came on” . . . just like every body said it would.
Actually the light came on with a dimmer switch that started many months ago. When your mommy and I found out that we were going to have you, this light in my soul came on, but only slightly . . . mostly because I had no idea what being your daddy would be like.
Then there were a series of events in your development that turned that dim glow into a movie premier searchlight. First there was an ultrasound at 8 weeks. You looked like a little bean, but you were the best darn bean I'd ever seen. Then there was an ultrasound at 18 weeks. Your little heart was beating away . . . 150 something beats per minute. We saw your head, your arms, your legs and even your spine. Every thing looked perfect to us.
And I'll never forget a Saturday morning shortly after that . . . Mommy and I were lying in bed when she exclaimed “Whoa!” and quickly put my hand on her belly. You were moving and kicking all around, and I was convinced we'd conceived a martial arts champion not the professional golfer that I had hoped for. But that's okay. Feeling you kick then, and even through our 34th week with you, your movements always made us smile.
But somewhere along the way, My Little One, you got very sick. Mommy and I didn't know it, but something wasn't right. Last Wednesday in the middle of the night, when it was clear you were coming too early, we were very scared. Mommy worked so hard to give you life outside her body, and those were hours that I will never forget.
Thanks, Hudson, for fighting so hard for your life all day Thursday and Friday. We now know that no matter how hard you fought, you were probably in a battle you couldn't win. But you were still a miracle, Little Huddy, and you will always have a huge place in the story of our lives.
Two nights ago, your Mommy and I were in bed talking about you. We're convinced you've already shaped many lives for eternity. God had a plan for your 51 hours, just like He is working His plan for those of us who will live many years. That, in fact, makes you special because God is accomplishing so much through you even now.
For me, your life has caused me to worship God and appreciate His sacrifice of Jesus even more. Now all I want to do is live my life for eternity, because I can't wait to be reunited with you in heaven. The light of love in my soul for you is blinding.
Odds are that I will probably have many more years here on earth, but rest assured, Little Hudson, your 51 hours changed my life, and I will never be the same . . .
With deepest love,
Daddy
My dearest Miracle,
All of my life, I have dreamed of the day I would hold you, but I never could have imagined how incredibly special that would turn out to be. I held you for the first time, little Hudson, after your short life had already ended and through my sorrow, I felt such an immense love and even joy that you were in my life for those two days.
You have blessed our lives in ways that we can see and in ways we will never even realize. Even in the hours you were with us, your spirit filled my heart with pride. I didn't realize that a mother could be proud of her son only a few hours after birth. But when the nurse described you to us as “feisty,” I just beamed. You were always so spirited during the time I carried you, and that same determined and strong spirit was evident during your life. Uncle Alex said to you when he left you that first night, “Keep fighting, little buddy!” and you tried so hard. And although we were proud of the strength you showed, we are glad you are now at peace after your struggle, with no more pain touching your tiny body.
Little Hudson Wayne, when we named you, we chose to name you after two men who have impacted many lives for Christ. Daddy and I like to think that you have even met Hudson Taylor and are aware of how God used him to lead the way for many to know Christ in China. One of our sorrows, though, is that you won't get to know your grandfather, Wayne, at least not here on earth. He is a special man who truly loves people and desires for them to be drawn into a relationship with Christ. We hoped in choosing his name for you that you would develop the gentle and loving spirit toward others that Papa Wayne and Grandpa Lucien both exhibit in their lives. We looked forward to raising you and teaching you about God's love and desire to be in relationship with you. Now instead, we are learning in new powerful ways about dependence on Christ alone and about God's immense love for us through the loss of the treasure of you.
Hudson, you have changed me. I feel blessed immensely to have been your mommy. I treasure every difficult moment of the pain and fear of giving birth to you. I treasure the joyful moments we had when you turned toward my voice and held tightly to my fingers. I treasure the bittersweet moments as I held your precious body in my arms. It broke my heart to see you in need when you were sick and not be able to protect you and comfort you. And now, I desire more than anything to be able to give of myself to you, there is so much more love and nurturing that I have inside that you aren't here to receive. All of these things assure me that I was, am, and always will be a mother. I thank God for the gift of you and trust that He will both comfort and teach me things beyond my imagination because of the most precious and painful days of life I have ever known.
Thank you, my beautiful son.
Love,
Mommy