Death of my baby in Erdenet Mongolia

By Louise Hoggan

My personal reflection of the death of my baby in Mongolia

Recently, I heard of a young woman saying that there is no way a parent every recovers from losing a child. This woman is strong and mature in her faith so I was a bit surprised by her statement. It is a lie. You may not “get over” losing a child but you do not have to let it ruin your life. I speak from experience. We lost a son, Jedidiah Patrick, in 1994 in Mongolia. He was only two months old, he would be 26 this November. While I will never say that I am happy or grateful this happened, I can say without hesitation that I am grateful for what the LORD has worked in and through me because of his death. I am not the person I would be if he has lived.

There are three main things that I have learned from losing a child The first is that God is more than I realized. Allow me to digress a little. I am one of the few people on the planet without Daddy issues. Not only was my father present during my childhood, but he was involved. He came to all my boring swim meets even though he does not really like to swim. He was there for all my dismal volleyball games. We won one game in two years. When I was small he would put me and my sister in the wagon and pull us to the library, help us choose books, walk us home again and stop to point out the constellations in the sky. He helped with homework. As far as I was concerned he was Daddy, loving, concerned, nurturing. But when I was in college I came to see him in a new light In my physical science class we were working on a group project. We were all stumped by some problem and one of my fellow students said it would take a rocket scientist to figure this out. Without thinking I said, my Dad could do it and it occurred to me, at that moment, that my father is a rocket scientist. Like I said he had always been Dad to me. But my whole life he had worked for the department of defense on a Navy Base in the Mojave Desert. I never really knew what he did. It was all top secret. Once a year the lab, where he worked, he had an open house and we were allowed to see inside. But all there was to see were government issue grey desks. Any work he actually did, was carefully secreted away. That day back in college, I saw my father from a different perspective. He was not just my Dad He was also more intelligent that I realized, there is a side of him that I will never understand. Now I understand why he would get so frustrated with my lack of understanding mathematics. In the same way my Heavenly Father had always been kind, compassionate and loving. But when my son died I began to see God in a new light. He is the LORD of the Universe and He can do whatever he wants. He holds the keys to life and death. He is way beyond me. He is so much more than I ever realized.

Secondly, heaven is the ultimate goal for my children. As a parent we have goals for our children We want them to sleep through the night, learn to walk, read, and to ride a bike. At this point I would love for them to graduate from college, but the ultimate goal is that they go to heaven We really have so little control over what they do. But I have one who is home free and four still pending.

Finally, we are known by our relationships. Since my son’s death I find that I like to walk through cemeteries. Our son died in Mongolia (that is another story written up in There is Sheep in my Bathtub, by Brian Hogan) and he is buried there. Some days I want that tangible reminder that once I had this perfect baby boy but his resting place on this earth is half a world away from where I live now. So I wander through cemeteries wherever I happen to be The thing I have noticed is that rarely will it say son on a person’s headstone, here lies John Doe, beloved truck driver, lawyer, accountant or rocket scientist No, it says, here lies John Doe beloved, son, brother, husband, father We are remembered for our relationships. It is more important who we are, not what we do. When Jedidiah died, I figured it would take me out. In fact, to my shame I prayed for the end. But what I did not realize then, but I can see now, is my foundation was stronger than I knew I had, built on The Rock, Jesus, and He has held on to me. When the storm of death threatened to take me under He was there and He preserved my life. There were parts of my life that were built on sand and those things washed away in the storm but enough was built on the Rock to hold me tight. Losing a child will mark you for life. I would not wish in on my worst enemy, but as with so many things in life, it is how we react to the situation that makes or breaks us. Reflections of grief in Mongolia.

The full story of how Brian and Louise Hoggan’s baby died in Mongolia and how the Hoggans handled their grief that was a sign that led to the expansion of the church!

Louise Hogan’s ministry

Louise Hogan trained as a midwife in 2010-2011 and practiced in Northern California and NW Arkansas. She now devotes her time and energy to training Traditional Birth Attendants (TBAs – village midwives) who are also disciple makers. She has run multiple trainings in Uganda, Columbia, South Sudan, Mozambique, Malawi and Madagascar. Louise finances the travel and expenses for these trips from the sale of her home-made artisan greeting cards. Louise also staffs School of frontier Missions for YWAM and mentors college-age women headed for the mission field.