“Our Little Braveheart”—The Story of a Baby with Half of a Heart

It was almost four o’clock in the morning when I awoke in my hospital bed, needing to use the restroom. As any woman who has just given birth knows, those first steps upright are a laborious event. My Baby Ben was asleep in my arms, Perfect Peace personified. For the first time I asked the nurse if she would please hold my five-pound gift from God while I attempted the short but arduous walk. After closing the bathroom door, my ears beheld the softest, sweetest sound—only audible because of the otherwise silent surroundings. It was the cry of my little boy! This was the first time I had heard my baby’s voice, and immediately I felt Ben was crying because he missed me. He knew the Mommy who had carried him the last nine months was not with him now, and he did not like the separation. What a precious sound… truly a sacred sound I somehow knew even then I was blessed to hear.

When I opened the door, the nurse said, ”He knows I’m not you. He wants you.” I looked with eyes of love and a heart filled with joy at my darling little bundle. He’d already been so strong; he’d already touched so many lives. He was already known as “Our Little Braveheart,” and I was grateful to have been chosen to be his mommy. I crawled back into bed and carefully got into position to cradle my son in my arms. From his perspective, there was no more reason to cry. He was safe and secure next to my heart and quickly fell again into peaceful slumber.

I didn’t want to fall asleep; I wanted only to look at my baby and cherish every moment we had together. But my eyelids must have been unable because the next time I awoke it was almost 4:45 a.m. I immediately checked Ben, and he seemed to still be resting comfortably. But the nurse quietly said something to me, and in an instant my world changed. I said, “Are you sure?” The moment I had thought about the last five months, the moment I had prayed about and dreaded with every fiber of my being had finally arrived. The moment was here; the reality was now….

Our Little Braveheart is a true story that I pray will find its way into the hands and heart of a publisher. It is Ben’s story, it is my story, and more than anything, it is God’s story. It is the story of a little boy with half of a heart; a story of his courage and perseverance… of fighting with everything he had. It is a story of faith, hope and love, of miracles, and of a God who never leaves us in our pain but walks with us through it, even carrying us at times.  It is written in loving memory of my cherished son and beloved fifth child, Benjamin Wallace Geisz, who was born on May 12, 2006 and died five hours later on May 13, 2006–the weekend of Mother’s Day.

In this life, we are sometimes called to endure pain which seems too great to bear. Where do we find the strength? How can we have peace? Where is God when we feel so alone? When will the suffering end? My hope is that Our Little Braveheart will inspire you to press on through your own trials with a heart of trust and eyes of faith. Even if your circumstance does not change–even if you must face your worst fear–you can find rest for your soul. And the greatest Love you could ever know can find you.

Perhaps you have a story, too, involving immense sorrow yet an inspiring journey with God. If you’re willing to share, I’m here to listen.