Not quite a month after we found out we had lost "baby A" I got a call from Heather while I was at work. Another routine appointment had turned into something else. Her water had ruptured and she was going to be kept in the hospital until it was time to deliver. My captain allowed me to leave work on the spot when I got the news, before finding someone to fill my place (I am a fireman if you do not know). During the two hour drive to the hospital I was getting tiny bits of information from Heather and trying to figure out what we were going to do with Avery and North, I knew from the little contact I had with Heather that I was going to be needed with her and of course the kids couldn't stay overnight in the hospital. My wonderful sister Annamae and her fantastic husband stepped up and drove hours to get the kids, even going to far as coming an additional hour up the mountain to help pack the kids stuff. The first night in the hospital was very stressful, I got lost trying to get in when I finally got back after packing up the kids, I ended up in some forbidden corridor behind only locked doors and had to wait for someone to come along and let me out. The night passed very slowly, Heather was having contractions and the baby's heart rate kept dropping, they would have to reposition her and give her oxygen trying to get his heart rate to go back up. We didn't know what was going on or what to expect. We were both already so afraid that we were going to loose him too and the night seemed to last forever, with the fear of the worst getting ready to occur at any moment. We made it through that night. Over the next few days as Heather settled in to being in the hospital for an extended time things began to calm down, less contractions and baby was looking good on the monitor. He had very limited fluid but he would be able to stay up to four weeks we were told if everything kept looking good. I was able to stay with Heather in the hospital, they even brought me my very own hospital bed so I didn't have to sleep on one of those fold out chairs they put fathers in. (It is a little known fact that the hospital father fold out chair is an almost exact replica of a medieval torture device found in the dungeon of a castle in France.) I was able to stay away from work because a group of my fiends there got together and found me guys to work my shifts in my place. I cannot tell you how helpful all of this was, the kids in a safe happy place and the ability to stay by Heather's side, such blessings in a storm. We spent twelve days and eleven nights in the hospital before anything changed, getting into a routine of monitoring baby and Heather throughout the day, smuggling caffeine in (no caffeine in the Adventist hospital), getting food from the outside world.
This whole time in the hospital I have been having a pretty difficult time dealing with everything. I think all men will understand this instinctively. To be brutally honest at the risk of sounding arrogant, I am a strong man, I am fast, I have been in life or death situations more times than I would like to talk about, and I have come out relatively unscathed. I have been an Army Ranger in combat, I am a fireman. I can handle myself, I am unafraid. Until I'm rendered helpless and terrified by something the I have no control over. Trying to be helpful, comforting and positive when all of my attributes as a man are worthless is incredibly difficult. When things are going wrong with the woman I love I want to fix them, but with things like this there is nothing I can do. All I can do is pray for wisdom and strength, and rely on Him for what I need to be what Heather needs from me.
Over the course of life's trials I have found that when I recognize that I do not have what I need to carry on and I turn to Him, (something I know I should be doing everyday but do not) I do not receive a sweeping peace and understanding, I do not suddenly become able to easily handle the situation. It remains a struggle, but as I continue to cling to Him I do feel His peace and I do see Him helping carry me through. I still have to work, it does not get easy. The pain of loss is still just as devastating, but I know the Father understands and weeps with me. As much as I would love it to all just go away when I give it to God I also understand that if it did I would never learn anything that I am supposed to from these experiences. As much as I hate it I understand why He does not just scoop everything up for me and make it right the moment I ask. Just the same as I do with North and Avery when they ask for help with something I know they can do, or can learn from, I do help them, but I do not do it all for them, they must get their hands dirty with me.
More to follow...
Psalm 41:6
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
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