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Sovereign Comfort

Once the hospital admission process was complete, I was escorted to a private room for final surgery prep. My friend never left my side from the moment she arrived late that morning. While I changed into a lovely hospital gown her husband went to find out if Steve had received the Red Cross message.

Across the room I noticed a table covered with a variety of reading materials including a Bible. I went over to pick up the Bible and underneath was a stack of small booklets. I thumbed through them and one in particular caught my eye. The title was How Can I Deal with My Loss? — A very appropriate title indeed. However, something else jumped out at me from the lower half of the cover. A white Avery label about one inch wide and four inches long displayed the following:

Compliments of:

CH (CPT) Steven Firtko and the 7-101 AVN BN UMT (Unit Ministry Team)

My heart nearly stopped. All I could think was, “No way!” Apparently my husband had been in that same hospital room ministering to a woman who also had lost a baby. Holding that booklet in my hands was like having Steve’s spirit in the room.

This sweet little gift from God proved His sovereignty and omniscience. It was all part of His grand plan for me to be in that particular room. Knowing exactly what I would need, He prompted my husband to plant a booklet with his name on it in the right place at the right time. My God shows up. When He brings or allows something difficult, He also provides a soothing balm to ease the pain.

While my friend and I marveled at God’s handiwork her husband returned with news. Steve had finally received the Red Cross message, but only after it floated around Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, for a while before reaching him at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. Overwhelmed by the blatant stupidity of this, I felt the anger phase of grief rising up.

My emotions were getting a little more unpredictable. Along with the emotional upheaval came hormonal upheaval. I had a good attitude one minute and anger the next. Clearly I was no longer operating on autopilot. Reality came out to bite me once again. But when my friend’s husband got Steve on the phone my fury had to wait. Our conversation went something like this:

S: How are you? Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? What a shock.

L: I wanted to tell you in person and I fully expected to have an opportunity. This was too significant to share over the phone.

S: You know how I found out? I was sitting in class and the class leader gave me a note that said Your wife is in the hospital due to complications of pregnancy. He told me to go see the Chaplain teacher. So I went to his office, he asked me to sit down, and he closed the door. Then he spoke, “I’m sorry I have bad news. Your wife had a miscarriage.” My mouth dropped open and I exclaimed, “What? I didn’t even know she was pregnant.” Then he excused me from class to get a plane ticket. I’m in Nashville now waiting for my ride. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Love you.

L: I’m going into surgery soon. I’ll see you when it’s over. Love you too.

So he finally knew. What a horrendous shock . . . for both of us. After the surgery I would be glad I persuaded the doctor to make arrangements for me to stay overnight. And God would show up again.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES:

Dear women of PWOC, I pray and trust that the Lord is using this story to encourage and perhaps challenge you. This isn’t for me or just about me. It’s for Christ and all about how He wants to use it. Please stay connected for more. As always, you may access previous entries in Life Happens – Jesus Answers under “Categories.” Have a Christ-filled 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

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Contradictory Doc

The ob/gyn who discovered my miscarriage had contacted my friend, called the Red Cross, and sent me to a different ob/gyn who would perform the D & C. This new doctor explained the importance of getting it done immediately to prevent complications over the weekend. So, there I was on Friday, April 20, 2001, undergoing the first phase of preparation. I won’t bother describing it here. It’s a tad indelicate.

While I finished getting dressed my friend arrived. She pulled back the curtain, hugged me, and I let out a brief sob. After exchanging a few sorrowful words, we took a seat on the brown leather couch in the doctor’s office. While he was filling out paperwork I gazed at the décor on his walls and desk. It suggested he was a Christian; and this was enough to ease my anxiety since I was about to go under his knife. But it wasn’t long before my encouragement degenerated.

I don’t recall our conversation exactly, but as we chatted about the procedure he said something that sent my heart plummeting: “It was only a blob.” I could feel my face stretch lengthwise as my eyebrows rose, my eyes grew larger, and my mouth fell open. I was so dumbfounded I couldn’t audibly question his ridiculous comment. My innards stirred. If I hadn’t been so stunned I probably would have broken into another atrocious wailing episode.

What’s the deal? Was this guy a Christian or not? Doesn’t he understand that a human life begins at conception? My brain shouted, It wasn’t a blob! How can you say that?! Images of that first sonogram raced through my mind as I recalled the head, the heartbeat, and the clearly formed arms, legs, hands and feet. The baby kicked vigorously. “It” was not a blob. He was a baby!

The doctor’s hand was busy writing and his eyes followed his pen. My eyes glared at him with disgust. The contradictions between his apparent beliefs and his words astounded me. Could it be that he was in the habit of making this offhanded comment to women who had miscarriages just to minimize their loss? Was this his lame way of attempting to assuage their pain? It did the opposite.

When he was finished with the paperwork he handed it to me and told me to go to admitting where I had to fill out more paperwork. What a weird feeling. I still couldn’t comprehend what was happening. My friend and her husband sat with me as I completed the forms. I valued their presence. My mother and sister were in Colorado and they still hadn’t heard. Neither had Steve but he wouldn’t be able to fly from Kansas to Tennessee in time to be with me anyway.

Sitting in the waiting area anticipating the procedure made me restless. I felt so many emotions I wasn’t sure which one to pick. Yet, despite the emotional upheaval, I sensed an inner stability and courage that couldn’t have come from me. God was strengthening me with His special brand of peace that defies explanation. And that wasn’t all He did. Awaiting my discovery was a gift He planted in my hospital room months before just for me.

TO BE CONTINUED:

Stay connected! In the next installment God displays His compassion and sovereignty. Even when He allows hard things in our lives He reveals His loving kindness. As difficult as it is to accept sometimes, Romans 8:28 really is true. This week reflect on what God has done in your life and let Him show you where He has brought good out of hardship, sorrow and pain.

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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

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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

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