PWOC International Blog

Holding It Together

The kind ob/gyn managed to contact my friend and then invited me to sit down on the blue plastic chair placed against the wall behind her desk. I sat in that chair, rocking forward and back, arms wrapped around my midsection. The rocking was instinctive. I either was attempting to comfort my shattered soul; or I was subconsciously rocking the newborn I would never hold. Like Jackie Kennedy scrambling to collect a piece of John’s skull from the back of their open convertible the day he was assassinated, I was desperately grasping the womb that encased my dead baby.

I stared at the floor, expressionless; feeling battered and bruised on the inside. It was all emotion. The wailing episode had drained me. My brain became more and more disengaged as I slipped into autopilot. But this dark journey had just begun and I needed to stay present.

The doctor proceeded to call the Red Cross. It was their job to locate and notify Steve. Little did I know it would take extra effort and a lot of time for them to succeed. As the ob/gyn initiated her phone call, the male nurse who had shoved tissue into my hand earlier came to escort me to a different doctor. He led me out of the examining room to the right, down a corridor, through the halls. I was in a fog. Nothing seemed real. Everything was blurry. I put one foot in front of the other, staying directly behind him, keeping my head straight without turning to the right or the left.

As we walked down the center of the hallway, we cut a path requiring people to walk around us. Through my peripheral vision I caught glimpses of pregnant women passing me on both sides. Today that memory brings to mind God’s parting of the Red Sea. He cut a path through the water so the people could cross. In my case, I carried death down the corridor while life passed by me. It seemed cruel. If I could have mustered the strength, I might have screamed.

The date of this dreadful event was Friday, April 20, 2001. The new doctor explained that even though I hadn’t had any cramping or significant bleeding up to that point, it could happen over the weekend which would make this situation much worse. He encouraged me to schedule a D & C for later that afternoon. (Dilation and Curettage — A common procedure used to remove tissue that hasn’t been expelled on its own. It also stops bleeding and prevents infection.) Because the day was getting older and operating rooms were filling up, I had to decide quickly.

It was so abrupt. I had just arrived at the hospital at 9:30 a.m. to be examined; then one hour later learned I’d had a miscarriage; and then I was strongly encouraged to get rid of the contents of my womb. Just like that. Still, reason and wisdom took control over the grief and anger I felt brewing inside. I’ve always been practical; doing what makes the most sense. Even during the most unbearable loss of my life, I managed to pull myself out of autopilot and use my brain. Or was the Holy Spirit responsible for that? He had to be holding me together.

TO BE CONTINUED:

Women of PWOC, and other interested parties, stay connected for the rest of the story. It will continue as long as the Lord allows. If you’re a little lost, and would like to get caught up, feel free to read previous entries in Life Happens – Jesus Answers under “Categories.” Until next time, may God bless you with peace and joy as you traverse your week.

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Life Happens – Jesus Answers is a weekly column addressing the challenges we face in life, coupled with the presence and grace of Jesus, our One True Source of hope and peace. The column’s author, Laura Firtko, can be reached by email here: LifeHappens@pwoc.org