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A Mother Waits: A Story from a Son to a Mother
It’s your birthday and I want to pick up the phone, but I don’t. I want to call you and tell you the story I tell you every year. The story of how I waited and waited for my firstborn son to arrive. I could tell you how nervous we were when the pains started because no matter how prepared you think you are, everything becomes real with that first tugging.
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Hell.
“I don’t believe in hell,” I blurted. It was a half-shouted whisper, a hiss only audible to the person next to me—we were in a church after all. My dad looked up from his spot beside me. To my declaration of disbelief in the bargaining chip that was supposed to keep Christians in line, keep…
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