Five in a Photo

John Dennis and Terri Bain    Elizabeth and Danny Bain

Taken in the Spring of 1984

Preaching a Revival at the Church where Danny and Liz served while

they lived in Louisiana

Terri was carrying Charise at the time of this Photo

To me, it is not just a cliche to say that pregnant women glow.

I believe that they are the most amazing and beautiful things in the world.

I know that when Terri was carrying our babies she was the most beautiful creature in MY world. 

Inside their Mother is the most beautiful place for a baby to be.

It also should be the safest place for a baby to be.

Three in a Photo

Terri and Dennis Bain Photo

February 13, 1984

6 weeks into Pregnancy

As soon as Terri and I found out that she was going to have a baby -- we already HAD a baby!

When I learned on January 13, 1984 that I was going to be a FATHER -- I WAS A FATHER.

If anyone had asked me how many people were in my immediate family, I would have proudly declared THREE.

We would not know if it was a boy or a girl until August 17, 1984, but we knew that if he was a boy his name had always been Jonathan -- if she was a girl her name had always been Charise.

Jonathan Evan Bain and Terra Charise Bain.

We had a baby.

Now the long wait to hold him/her in my arms.

We already had a family.

We already had a photo:

Terri's abdomen became the center of our whole world.

She soon had to change her wardrobe to accommodate our new addition.

All of conversations, with everybody, were (annoyingly, I'm sure) punctuated with the words "The Baby . . ."

But we not only talked about "The Baby . . . " -- we talked TO the baby.

I talked to her, sang to her, and read to her.

As the baby grew and became active, we would lie in bed and watch her movements.

I had the pleasure (most men do not) of going personally with Terri for every one of her prenatal doctor visits. Every time I went we got to hear the baby's heartbeat. What a thrill.

We worked every spare moment on preparing the nursery for her arrival. She had a bed (crib), a bassinet, and a bathinet, and a changing table, and toys and clothes.

We NEVER had a viable tissue mass, or an embryo, or a fetus.

From the moment that she was conceived from our love -- she was a baby.

Our baby.

Terri became very sick, weak and dehydrated only five or six weeks into the pregnancy. But she did everything humanly possible to protect our baby. Her greatest concern with the life and health of our child. She was hospitalized for a brief time -- but her sacrificial care and Motherly Instinct transferred to the strength and growth of our bundle. That is what Mothers do.

Terri was a Mother, and I was a Father, long before Charise came out from hiding.

We had always loved children. Charise taught us to love the unborn.

And we do.

Three in a Photo, Too

The hand-notation on the back of the above photo records that it was taken on February 13, 1984.

Only one month earlier (January 13), on my 28th Birthday, Terri had joyfully given me one of the best birthday presents that I have ever received. She announced that she was expecting a baby. WE were expecting a baby!

We had been married since 1976, and for the first few years together we knew that we needed some time to grow up and settle down before we started having children. We took measures with the help and advice of Terri's OBGYN to prevent an unplanned pregnancy. Looking back on that time I remember always being a little anxious that whatever steps of protection that we took, we still might unintentionally become parents.

But we knew also that if that happened we would still be happy and would make the changes in our life together to happily include the addition. We had always loved children, we would one day have children, and we were never afraid of children OR of God's Will for us.

We didn't consult a chapter of Planned Parenthood or read any of the organization's literature as we thought about the future of our family. We had learned very easily that Planned Parenthood had never had anything at all to do with planning, or parenthood. It was all about providing services for people who were facing consequences from bad choices for which they had not planned, and offering bad choices to help avoid the responsibilities of parenthood.

We did not know at the beginning, however, that when we felt that we were ready to initiate our careful plan -- we would face a problem for which we were not prepared. 

Infertility.

We were not able to conceive.

Most human beings around the world are very fertile. Men and women couple, and nine months later a baby (or two, or three) arrives. As my Dad said to me on several occasions, "I don't know what the problem could be, Son. I never had any trouble."

In other words, it wasn't HIS fault! Ha!

But, that is what you begin to do when facing infertility. "Is it HER fault?" "Is it HIS fault?"

There is, without question, a problem. But that does not mean that someone is at fault. It does not mean that someone is to blame, or IS the PROBLEM. That kind of thinking is hard to avoid, and it is never helpful or productive.

And this is never a private problem.

Soon, all of our family members and friends knew that we were "trying to get pregnant" but were being unsuccessful.

As a matter of fact, since we are Christians, when we launched our plan to begin our family, we delicately told others that we had begun praying for a child.

When it appeared to us (and everyone else), that we were not being successful, one of my close seminary friends asked me discreetly (and seriously), "You're doing more than praying, aren't you?"

What is unsuccessful?

Six to twelve months of normal sexual activity after having abandoned any kind of birth control methods should produce a positive pregnancy result. If it has been longer than that, you might need to see a doctor. Your family doctor is a good place to begin. Your wife's Gynecologist will also be knowledgeable about your problem and how it can be addressed. If your regular physicians cannot help you they will know of specialists who can take you to another level.

In the 1970's and early 1980's nearly 10% of couples in the United States faced the inability to get pregnant.

But in recent years the Center for Disease Control has announced that the rates of infertility are declining (https://www.cbsnews.com/news/us-infertility-rates-falling-says-cdc/).

That is good news, because believe me, wanting to have children and not being able is very stressful. Some marriages suffer divorce over the issue. Many tears are shed because of the plight.

Women often carry more of the stress or blame. In the Bible, a woman who cannot bear children is described as barren. You know, like a desert or Mother Hubbard's Cupboard.

In defense of the Bible (and we found encouragement there), a number of very special women of faith in the scriptures were at first described as being barren. God blessed particular infertile women with the grace of giving birth to children who played very important roles in His plan.

Hull Gull

For a while - when I was just a little boy - my Grandmother came to live with us.

Little Mama. My Mother's Mother. Ruby Abernathy Browning.

She would keep the house and watch me and my brother, Danny, while our Mom was at work at Kroger. She worked very hard all day long, put up with me and Danny, and half the neighborhood kids, and would have supper ready for everybody at night when Mom got home.

I know that I did not realize or appreciate all that she did. What a wonder she was!

As she cleaned house and prepared meals during the day she would always sing the old hymns. I can still hear her quavering but clear voice singing "Brethren We Have Met to Worship."

Often she would entertain us with games that we had never heard of - one of them was called Hull Gull.

At least two people to play. One has a pile of dried beans, peas, marbles, coins, or some other such small thing. The first player secretly picks up a desired and random number of beans while the second player covers their eyes.

Player 1: Open your eyes!

Player 1: Hull Gull!

Player 2: Hand Full!

Player 1:  How Many?

Player 2 would then guess how many beans were being held in Player 1's hands.

If they guess correctly - they win!

No prize - or bean swapping.- just the fun of a guessing game.

We would play forever! 

More fun than watching TV or playing video games.

She taught me how to make shapes, and figures, and puzzles by weaving a circle of string between my hands - held in magical webs and ladders by my fingers.

She made a button Zoom-Zoom for me. A large button threaded on a loop of string. You would hold the ends of the looped string between your hands with the button hanging in the middle. Swing the button around in a circle with the string to wind it in a spiral.  When you pulled your hands apart the button would spin.  The weight of the button would make it wind and rewind as you pulled on it. Every pull produced a Zooming sound.

And don't get me started about a June Bug on a string.

Cruel to the poor Bug?  Naw, that Bug never had so much fun!

Valuable Things

 

One of the less difficult aspects of addressing the dispensation of your Mother's belongings at her passing, is discovering how many things are in her house that you gave to her or somehow started with you, with us, with me.

There are many, many things in our lives and in our homes that came from her hands. Photos, gifts, cookware, furnishings, necessities. An uncountable number of pieces and parts of who we are what we possess that she gave to us for birthdays, anniversaries, and Christmases and some things that came from her just because she perceived that we had need.

But, obviously she kept everything that we ever gave her for any reason. How humbling is that?

Drawings, childhood artwork, crafts, and creations.

Cards, letters, notes, photos - memories that cover our lifetimes. She must have treasured them all.

"I made that . . . can I have it?" we ask each other. "You gave that to her . . . why don't you take it and hang it in your study?" "That made her think about you . . . take it to continue thinking about her."

All of these decisions are so easily made as a family. Easily, but not painlessly.

There is so much of her already in our lives and in our homes. We are now transferring only more of her.

The photo in this post is of a tissue box holder that I made for Mother many years ago during the woodworking and craft phase! Three pieces of white pine, scrolled out and glued together. Chinese grass screen panels hanging from dowel rods to form opposing sides. It holds and dispenses a small box of tissues. I've seen it on display and in use for many years. In her home like it was a valuable home necessity.

This weekend I took it to sit on the nightstand beside my bed.
There is an extra throw-pillow, a painting on the wall, a blanket, an added vanity cabinet in my bathroom. Towels and washcloths added to the closet, sheets and pillow cases.

The closest members of her family, some of her dearest friends are now reminded of her . . . surrounded by her.

We fail to notice things like this over the years, we overlook them, or take them for granted. They do not fully register with us or catch our eye. But now they take on a whole new meaning, a new importance. They are just things, but they make us think of better times, different times, wonderful good times with a good person.

Mother probably didn't have anything that anyone would value as material wealth, but her house, her home was filled with things that were a part of her, and a part of what was most valuable to her - us.