By Jon and Cori Mooberry
As we write this article, our family is transitioning from the summer season, embracing the cooler nights and crisper mornings that signal the return to school. With Friday night lights growing brighter and pumpkins adorning front porches, fall is clearly upon us, bringing with it a theme of transition.
Reflecting on Abel’s passing nearly seven years ago, the concept of transition aptly describes his enduring impact on our family and faith.
Diagnosed with Potter’s Sequence during a 20-week ultrasound, Abel’s condition was deemed fatal, as his lungs would not develop enough to breathe independently after birth. While many in our situation opt for termination, we chose to trust in God’s plan, carrying Abel to term despite knowing his time with us would be brief.
Since losing Abel, we feel Christ’s presence in the transformation of our hearts, drawing us nearer to Him. Abel serves instead as a bridge, encouraging us to deepen our relationship with Jesus Christ and to prepare for the eventual transition from this life to the next. Admittedly, our faith journey is marked by struggles, fluctuating between moments of fervor and times of doubt. Yet, it is our bond with Abel that compels us to seek forgiveness and grace each day. The knowledge that he is among the angels and saints, awaiting our reunion, lifts us from despair and guides us to higher ground.
Comedian Jim Gaffigan quips that the only thing worse than Catholic guilt is parental guilt. As Catholic parents, we grapple with this ‘double whammy’, constantly concerned that we’re not doing enough for our children or questioning past decisions that may impact them negatively. Regarding Abel and his brief time on earth, we feel no remorse about how our lives have been profoundly altered by the joy of being Abel’s parents.
While our secular world might have labeled him as “fatal” or “incompatible with life,” our journey with a baby we knew we couldn’t keep was nothing like this grim forecast. Instead, we were privileged to witness a four-pound baby boy touch many hearts and become a saint in our presence. As we noted in his obituary years ago, God blessed Abel with a perfect life—one free from sin, pain, sorrow, or suffering. He experienced only love here on earth, and now in Heaven, he knows only how to love us unconditionally as he guides us towards a life as pure as his own.
Do we miss our son and mourn our loss of parenthood? Every day. Is burying our child the most painful moment we’ve experienced to date? Absolutely. Do we ever wish we would have terminated his life early to try and spare ourselves the pain and suffering that has ultimately deepened our faith? Never.
John 12:24: “Amen, amen I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.”
