When I See Him: A First-Time Mom's Testimony of Hope and Love Through Loss

By Sharon C. Mo

In When I See Him, a mother recalls her journey with her firstborn son, from his anticipated conception to her eventful pregnancy that leads to his premature birth. She recounts his days at the neonatal intensive care unit and shares an intimate story of finding God in those around her for hope.

After waiting over a year to start a family, God finally blesses Sharon with a child. While there are moments of joy and excitement in her pregnancy, there are also frightful episodes that end with trips to the emergency room. Following some complications, her son is bornthirteen weeks early. Sharon and her husband suddenly find themselves with new responsibilities of parenting a preemie in a hospital environment. As they face the realities of being in the neonatal intensive care unit, they are taught to rely on Gods grace and to trust in His sovereignty, even when God gives them exactly what they need.

When I See Him is a candid, hope-filled, and intensely personal account of the peaks and valleys Sharon and her husband experienced with their baby boy and a testimony of how God used their sons life in ways that were higher than their own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Feb 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781512758993

Sharon C. Mo

Sharon C. Mo is a civil servant to the province of Ontario in Toronto, where she applies her passion for finances. Singing, traveling, and baking are some of her favorite pastimes. She lives in Markham with her husband, Herman, and their sons, Everett and Ezra.

Book preview

Chapter 1

W OULD YOU WANT A BOY first or a girl first? my husband, Herman, asked.

A boy first. Definitely a boy first, I answered without hesitation.

I have a theory that a girl who grows up with a younger sibling doesn’t grow up to be Daddy’s princess. Those girls, especially when they have younger brothers, turn out to be independent women in life. There’s nothing wrong with being an independent woman in our day and age. Why wouldn’t I want my daughter to be an independent woman when she grows up? Who wouldn’t want an independent adult daughter? It’s not that I don’t want that. No, it’s that I would want her to be both an independent woman and Daddy’s princess.

I am an only child. My parents had me when they were twenty-eight and thirty years old. They claimed I was such a good girl that a second child would have had to been anything but. They said that when I was three, I would sit quietly in the first pew at church while Mom played the piano and Dad chaired the worship service on Sundays. Congregation members would hardly notice I was there since I was so well behaved. I was such a good girl that I got all the stuffed animals and toys I ever wanted from my parents … all to myself. Was I spoiled? Nah, I was Daddy’s princess, and I still am today.

I cherish this relationship so much that I wanted it for my own daughter, if I were ever to have one. And I’ve seen daughters who grow up with a younger sibling don’t tend to have this dynamic with their parents. Sure, it can happen, and I do know of such families, but I would say they’re the exceptions.

Plus, I wanted a boy first so he could grow up to be a big brother—something I didn’t have—someone who would take care of his younger siblings. He would be a second man of the household, a second guy to help Dad around the house. Yes, if it were up to me, I’d want a boy first and then a girl. That’s my idea of a perfect family.

Herm (the nickname we all call my husband) laughed at my theory and said it was unsubstantiated. Well, it’s not like I am writing a thesis; it’s my own observation from all the different types of families I know. He believes all family dynamics are a result of the role parents play in their children’s lives—how they discipline and nurture them. While I don’t disagree with his theory, I still think it’s easier and more natural to achieve the family dynamic I would want with my own kids with my idea of a perfect family.

But at the end of the day, any family is better than no family. You see, my husband and I waited a long time to start one at all. We had been married for three years by the time we decided to try for kids. We wanted to have our first when I was twenty-eight and finish by the age of thirty, like my parents did. That plan went down the drain when my laser eye surgery didn’t go smoothly the first time around, and I needed three more touch-up procedures. I was careless to have overlooked the implications laser eye surgery had on pregnancy. The surgeon advised that since the eye drops required post-surgery contained steroids and antibiotics, it would be best to hold off becoming pregnant because of the risk of side effects and complications, however moderate the risk might be. So we postponed our family by almost a year.

By January 2012, I had recovered from my last laser eye touch-up, and, as far as I knew, we were physically ready. After all of the waiting and three months of recommended daily prenatal vitamins, we were pretty excited. We had many friends and relatives who had become pregnant as soon as they started trying; we thought we would be no different and would be pregnant in no time.

Little did we know, God had more waiting in store for us.

Chapter 2

T WO MONTHS PASSED. TWO CYCLES of failed attempts. Was it something we were doing wrong? I even used ovulation tests both times; man, are those expensive! I questioned whether the shape of my uterus played a factor.

During our year of postponing, I went to see a specialist who verified through a hysterosonogram that I have a heart-shaped uterus. During a hysterosonogram, they inject a solution into the uterus to clearly see its shape in order to diagnose uterine abnormalities. I, along with about one in twenty-five women, have such an abnormality. But the specialist and multiple obstetricians I went to for consultations after the diagnosis assured me it was a normal variant in women and I would not be considered a high-risk pregnancy. As a matter of fact, they encouraged me to have many healthy babies.

Still, I could not help but wonder what was wrong with me and why I hadn’t become pregnant yet. Could it be Herm’s problem? Over a decade before, Herm experienced a medical condition termed testicular torsion after playing basketball. It’s when the cord holding the testicle twists, cutting off blood supply to the testicle. If the specialist surgeon had not made the trip to the hospital where Herm had been rushed into the emergency room that morning, Herm would have lost half his chances of sperm production. Pain closest to a woman during labor for a man is what the doctors told him. Poor Herm—lucky one in four thousand men. He recalls dragging himself on the floor to his parents’ bedroom when he woke up with insurmountable pain in his groin. I was in London at the time, where I was completing my bachelor’s degree. Thank God for His protection!

With my arcuate uterus and his insane turnaround jump shot incident, we probably hit jackpot in the infertility realm. Maybe these circumstances were God’s way of telling us that nothing is impossible with Him.

At my annual physical examination, I told my family doctor we’d been trying to get pregnant. She made sure I was taking folic acid and advised me to return to her for fertility testing if I hadn’t become pregnant by my sixth cycle. So Herm and I kept trying. Two more months passed. Disappointment after disappointment. We were coming to the six-month mark, and I was starting to lose hope. I began to distract myself with other things, such as my work.

Chapter 3

I AM A PROUD SERVANT to the province of Ontario, where I lead my team in planning the business and finances for children and youth services. A year ago, I was promoted to a more senior role, and I guess my organization liked me enough to want to keep me in the same position by having me go through a formal hiring process. I knew I needed to work hard to prepare for the interview. I took nothing for granted; I had heard too many stories where the incumbent was not the successful candidate. As if the stress of an interview wasn’t enough, work also got so busy that I scarcely had time to prepare for it by the time I got home every night.

The sermon at church on the Sunday leading up to the day of the interview couldn’t have come at a more suitable time. Our congregation had been studying the book of Genesis, delving into the theme of God’s love from the very, very beginning. The message that day was called Wait for It. The Scripture was from Genesis 15–16, when God made a covenant with Abraham that he and his descendants would be made into a great nation. We know today that this promise wasn’t fulfilled until much later. Abraham and Sarah waited a quarter of a century before they had Isaac … a quarter of a century! That’s not too far off from all my living years.

The months of waiting to be pregnant suddenly became so insignificant. I was disappointed with how impatient I had been all along. Sarah had to wait years—no, decades—before bearing a child. How were these months considered waiting? Quite plainly, they were not.

Herm and I reflected on this after church. It was as if the sermon was directed specifically at us. We were both reminded that we needed to leave our family planning to God.

And God responded. The following few days I kept hearing a still, small voice asking me, Have you forgotten who I am?

I am not one to say that I regularly hear the voice of God. Truth be told, I don’t know what it sounds like. I just know those words kept resurfacing, and those of Genesis 15:7 really impressed upon me: [God] also said to [Abraham], ‘I am the Lord, who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land to take possession of it.’

Well, I thought if it was indeed God speaking, I was going to give Him a response He deserved. Not that I was expecting to receive any sort of land or inheritance, but this verse taught me that He is the Lord who delivers us through anything and everything. I have not forgotten; I have not forgotten who You are.

After this small declaration, my heart became much more at peace. This was precisely what I needed, too, with my interview only a few days away. And into the boardroom I went before the panel of managers, leaving my family and career in God’s hands, with a newfound hope and faith.

Chapter 4

T HE INTERVIEW CAME AND WENT. I did the best I could, answering every question with one of the responses I had prepared for every scenario imaginable. No matter how well you do in interviews, you’ll always wish you could have said something else or something more. You’ll think, I can’t believe I said that or What was I thinking? Come to think of it, I should write a book on interviewee’s remorse and how to cope with it. Anyway, I don’t tend to dwell on these feelings for long. What’s done is done, so move on and leave it to God.

We were in the beginning of summer, and I was looking forward to having Joe, my closest cousin who lives in Vancouver with his young family, visit during his business trip at the end of July. Over a long August weekend, our church was having its biennial summer retreat. Herm was also going to take me to see the Beauty and the Beast musical for my birthday, and I was going to take him to the shooting range to celebrate his. With activities like these, I knew I had an eventful summer ahead of me.

A couple of weeks into July, I started to notice spotting when I went to the bathroom. This was normal, as it was around that time of month. By now the anticipation of becoming pregnant had worn off, so I proceeded to expect what would follow in a few days.

A week passed. Still only spotting. Weird, I thought. It doesn’t normally take this long for it to come. Never mind that. My body’s just acting funny. It’ll come, have no doubt. It’ll come.

What did come was the decision for the position I had interviewed for earlier in the month. That same week my manager called me into her office for a conversation I’d hoped, but never just assumed, would