Hear The Nightbird Call

I am scribbling footloose again: posting an article about motherhood instead of travel. “Hear The Nightbird Call” was first published in the Epoch Times on 9/23/2025.

The day after Charlie Kirk’s death, journalist Megyn Kelly replayed something Charlie once said on a George Janko podcast: “Everyone is called to something different in the body of Christ . . .”

Hearing him say that, made me realize that being a full-time mom had been my calling, and I am thankful to have fulfilled it.

Now, with my living children grown and flown, I would like to share a bit of what being a mother meant to me; and in the spirit of Charlie Kirk, encourage any married couple thinking of having children to go for it. It is the hardest and best job you’ll ever love.

My husband and I were married several years before we started a family. We wanted children, but felt we had some growing up of our own to do first. Looking back, I wish we had started earlier. However, one thing I am proud of: we shopped for our first home based solely on my husband’s income.  We knew that eventually I would be a stay-at-home mom, and neither one of us wanted to be trapped with a mortgage that could only be supported by a two-income family.

When I reached age 33, my biological clock began to ring loudly. Then after one miscarriage and another year of trying, I became with child. My husband and I were thrilled. Carrying a baby, though not without its discomforts, felt amazing. I reveled in my wondrous new body.

Nine months later our beautiful baby Nigel was born. My husband and I got to experience the amazing heart-opening love that only a parent can feel. When I wrote to a pregnant friend later, I described it as “the ultimate outpouring of love where every cell screams in your body LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!!!”

I remember distinctly the first time I sang a lullaby to Nigel, as he slept on my shoulder. “This is Heaven.” I thought. “There is nothing better than this.”

I knew this was all I wanted to do, all I was meant to be.

At four months old, Nigel was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia. My parents flew in and rented an apartment near the hospital where the four of us could live and take care of our baby. Afterward, I wrote in a journal addressed to Nigel, that the time we spent together in that apartment was like “a slice of heaven. The unconditional love swirling around all of us with you as our focus was something truly sacred and beautiful. We all had our roles and helped each other out and always, we focused on you.  And you loved us right back, smiling and laughing, the center of our universe.”

Nigel made it to eight months, but tragically died after complications from a bone-marrow transplant. My husband and I had to learn to live again.

One thing was certain, eventually we wanted more children–not to replace Nigel, that was impossible, but because my husband and I had so much love to give. Life was unimaginable without children.

Two years later we had Christopher–our beautiful angel. We felt like his brother sent him to us. And to remove any suspense, Chris grew into a strong young man for whom we have such pride.

Like all parents, my mind jumps back and forth in time. It was only yesterday it seems, that my son and I walked through the park holding hands as I sang, “While strolling through the park one day, in the merry month of May . . .” with little Christopher joining in on the “ahhhh” part.

They are all wonderful memories, even the temper tantrums, the misbehavior, the accidents and stitches … because it was important. Raising a child is so important. And love carries you through. Love allows you to apologize to your child when you make mistakes–and you will make mistakes–but admitting it and receiving their forgiveness is humbling. We parents grow and learn as much as our children do. They are our best teachers.

Less than two years after Christopher was born, we had our amazing daughter, Kate. Kate was a whirlwind of activity and emotions, and still is! Kate is my rollercoaster. There were so many exciting, passionate moments, but one of my favorite memories is a quieter one. When half-days at Kindergarten were over, we wouldn’t head right home. Instead we’d sit at a table right outside her classroom, while she showed me all the important work she’d done that day.

There’s that word again, important. Everything your child does and says is important. This doesn’t mean you spoil them, or neglect boundaries, but it does mean you take time to respect their world. Listen to them, look at them. Give them a chance to tell you things, and understand how lucky you are to have them share their life with you.

Nigel taught my husband and I how precious life is, and how fragile. This did not make us perfect parents, far from it, but it did make us better parents. Our children always felt our love and still do. I am proud to say that they too want children one day, so we must have done something right.

I am left with a memory of kissing my little daughter goodnight and her saying,  “I have so much love, it fills me up … from my heart to yours.”

“That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

Then I sang her favorite Burl Ives song:

Hush little baby, don’t say a word,
Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.
If that mockingbird don’t sing,
Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.

To the last verse:

Hear oh hear, the nightbird call, 
Soon oh soon the dark will fall

Hmm, mhm mhm . . . 
And as I gently hum, she falls asleep.