
Five Minute Friday: MEASURE
Two friends have lost their infants this week. One of them is Jesse, who I wrote about in this post.
I didn’t know Jesse’s family before he was born. I learned about him when the family started a Facebook page and community to pray for him after he was born. A friend of mine is a friend of Jesse’s family.
I don’t recall the specifics of his birth injury in great detail, but he was deprived of oxygen during labor, and his prognosis was uncertain from the moment he was born.
There were many questions over the three months and two days he was here on Earth. His brain growth (among other things) was measured carefully to see if there was any change, which would potentially indicate other possibilities for his development.
His family was so gracious in the way they shared their experience, especially since many of us were strangers they didn’t know.
The family took family pictures, in the outfit they intended to dress Jesse in for family pictures all along (to my recollection).
They all went to a Florida State baseball game (there are two other young siblings in the mix).
Jesse’s dad sat and watched all the Marvel movies he could fit in with Jesse a few days before he passed away.
*** end of five minutes ***
The song “Seasons of Love” in “Rent” asks:
How do you measure the life
Of a woman or a man?
That song refers to the period of a year.
Jesse with us less than a year. In the time he was here, though, many people grew to love him and his family. He generated good will at a time in our world where it seems the news grows more negative day by day.
For three months and two days, we were reminded that the capacity to care is measured by something less finite than blocks on a calendar.

Welcome to this week’s Five Minute Friday. Our instructions, via creator Kate Motaung: “Write for five minutes on the word of the week. This is meant to be a free write, which means: no editing, no over-thinking, no worrying about perfect grammar or punctuation.” (But I can’t resist spell checking, as you can imagine.)

Wife of one, Mom of two, Friend of many. My pronouns are she/her/hers.
Amen! The capacity to care CANNOT be counted on a calendar. Our aches and pains in this life can seem immeasurable at times. I’m hoping the joy we experience in God will be so also.
Exactly, Leigh. I hope so too.
It’s interesting how we measure everything, even those things that are intangible like hope, care, love, and attention. My circle of friends is going through a similar situation. A baby girl born way too soon at under 2 pounds is nearly 6 weeks old now and weighs 2 pounds. Everything is measured, an unimaginable number of things. The things not measured are as you said, the attentiveness of friends who have rallied to help in every imaginable way.
You are right, Jane. I will pray for that baby. <3
Very thoughtful post. It is so true that each minute is so precious. Sometimes we just don’t think about never getting that moment back and we need to make the most of every second.
We really do. Thanks so much for stopping by.
What we all need to focus on is LOVE, CARING. In love with statistics, we fail to lean in to the reality that there is life and expression in that child. Yes, as an RN I understand the need for knowledge, for giving the parents facts. But love should be the first thing given to the child and memories help too. Thanks for this piece.
You are right (of course). I appreciate your warmth and receptiveness.
Lovely post. Maybe measuring impact is just as important? I lost my first baby, he only lived 11 hours, but he had a very large impact on a large number of people. He taught me so much.
Thank you for sharing that. And now he’s expanded the circle a bit more because you’ve shared him here with my readers and me. <3
Such a poignant post. The death of an infant leaves its own trail of grief. Yet, as you point out, there is no timetable for measuring a life. It points to the character of God, no matter when life ceased. The song from Rent came to my mind as well. It’s profound.
Yes, exactly. That song is very evocative. Baby Jesse definitely made a difference for many of us.