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The Short Vort
Good Morning!
Today is Thursday, the 28th of Menachem Av 5782, and August 25, 2022
"I Am With You In Your Pain"
As Basya reached for the cereal in her cabinet, she could feel the baby moving within her.
Basya smiled and thanked Hashem.
It had not been an easy journey.
The year before, Basya had also been pregnant.
It had been five years since their last child was born.
At that time, when Basya found out she was expecting, the thought of a new baby in the house was exhilarating.
Yet, it was not to be.
Midway through the pregnancy, complications arose.
To Basya's dismay, the doctor could no longer detect a heartbeat.
Instead of a Bris or a Kiddush, Basya buried her so anticipated baby.
And now, a year after the traumatic loss, Basya was again expecting.
This time Basya wanted to make sure the outcome would be different.
Thanks to early medical intervention and modified bed rest, Basya was now less than a week away from her scheduled delivery.
It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the baby squirmed restlessly inside her.
Basya took a moment to appreciate her Brochus and thank Hashem.
The following Sunday would be her son's Bar Mitzvah, his Bo B'Yom.
And the day after the Bar Mitzvah, on Monday, Basya was scheduled to deliver her by then, full-term baby.
The Shabbos after the delivery would be the Bar Mitzvah kiddush in Shul.
Life was good.
Life was predictable.
Life was on schedule.
Until it wasn't.
On Wednesday afternoon, Basya realized something was amiss.
As she sat at the kitchen table to enjoy a rare respite and a cup of decaf, she knew something was awry.
It was not an unpleasant ache or pain which caused her angst; quite the opposite, it was the absence of any feeling which was alarming.
The baby!
Basya realized she no longer felt the normally active baby moving within her.
She rushed to the doctor's office.
With a sense of resignation and helplessness, the doctor conveyed to Basya the news she dreaded, yet, deep inside, she already knew.
The baby within her was no longer alive.
The Bar Mitzvah was four days away, yet, instead of tying together the final details of the Bar Mitzvah, Basya was once against preparing for the burial of her lifeless child.
The pain was unbearable.
The feeling of betrayal, of complete incomprehensibility, was devastatingly crushing.
The mortifying torture of having to bury two lifeless children in two years was beyond the pale of bearability.
Yet, as has happened countless times in our painful history, Jewish mothers become Jewish heroines at the moment of their deepest, darkest pain.
Basya took a deep breath.
She told herself with precarious conviction, "This too is what Hashem wants. Who am I to question?"
She then looked straight at the doctor.
With robotic confidence, Basya stated, "I will continue to carry my lifeless child. I will deliver as scheduled the following Monday. My son deserves a Bar Mitzvah as any other boy."
She turned to her husband and said, "No one can know about this. No one. Our son, parents, and other children deserve the celebration they have been anticipating and waiting for.
Both sets of grandparents deserve the nachas of seeing their grandson at his Bar Mitzvah with complete joy. The children have bought special suits and dresses and are excited about the occasion.
This Simcha will be as any other Bar Mitzvah; I accept Hashem's ways, even if I cannot understand them."
In the annals of our people, this act of courage, Bitachon, and self-sacrifice reached the level of Mesiras Nefesh only seen in former generations and ranks among the most pristine examples of Emunah and acceptance of Hashem's ways.
That Shabbos, Basya and her husband ran the Shabbos tisch as any other Shabbos.
They sang all of the family's favorite Zemiros, not omitting even one.
The food was special in honor of the next day's Bo B'Yom Bar Mitzvah.
The family laughed and celebrated, smiled, and rejoiced.
Outwardly Basya was the same upbeat, buoyant matriarch she always was, yet, inside, she was churning in agonizing pain, seen only by He who sees all.
When Sunday evening arrived, Basya turned to face the maternity gown hanging in her closet.
Initially, she was looking forward to wearing the beautiful dress, knowing she would exchange it the next day for a hospital gown when she bonded with her newborn baby.
However, now it had morphed from an exquisite garment into a hideous habit.
No longer was it the delicate gown she had anticipated wearing.
It now had a look and feel of tachrichim, cerements, as the shadow of death enveloped the dress.
Yet, Basya did as Jewish mothers have done from time immemorial; she put her feelings aside and donned the garment while tears streamed down her face.
She entered the Simcha hall with the smile of a woman painfully suffering inside while pretending joy on the outside.
Basya graciously accepted Mazel Tovs and greeted and embraced all those attending.
As torturous the pain was, Basya's determination to give her son a Bar Mitzvah like every other boy was even greater.
Her rock of support was Hashem Himself, as the reality of Imo Anochi B'Tzora fortified her steadfast resolution to remain joyous.
Finally, the last guests exited, and Basya returned home.
She collapsed in bed as tears of sadness for her lifeless child conflicted with the tears of gratitude to Hashem, who had allowed her to celebrate her son's Bar Mitzvah.
The next morning, Basya was on her way to the hospital to deliver her lifeless child.
As she recovered from the physical and emotional trauma of the medical procedure, she had to deal with the additional pain of the arrival of maternal sustenance, a perpetual reminder of what could have been, yet, was not.
As she lay in her hospital room, alone and devoid of her anticipated child, she turned to the true source of consolation, Hashem Himself.
Our story is not over; ultimately, this would not be Basya's final trip to the delivery room.
He who sees all and He who counts our tears would accompany Basya a year later back to the delivery room as she would give birth to a beautiful, healthy boy.
"HaZorim B'Dimah, B'Reena Yiktzoro…" (Those who seed in tears will reap in happiness)
“If Not Now, Then When?”- Hillel
Ron Yitzchok Eisenman
Rav
Congregation Ahavas Israel
Passaic, NJ
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