11.16.2016

Gratitude Day 8...

A memory...

When it comes to Talmage, I feel like all I have left is my memories of those 7 months that I carried him and Fielding. The memories range from precious to heartbreaking. Here is one that I feel meets both those criteria. We found out at a routine 33 week ultrasound that "Baby B's heart had stopped beating." I was immediately sent to the hospital so they could monitor Baby A while inducing labor for a speedy delivery before further complications arose. Speedy was the doctor's term and their version differed from mine. For 48 hours, they needed to administer steroids to help Baby A's lung development; which meant that for 2 days I was stuck in a limbo state of grief because I could not fully mourn the loss of a child that I still carried within me. A child that if I pressed just so I could still feel his head directly below my rib cage. About 15 hours into this tragedy, I awoke after a sleepless night around 5am and I turned to Blake curled in the chair next to the bed. His eyes caught my glance and without a word spoken between us he knew what my silent pleading was. He came to me and attempted to ease the physical discomfort - he fluffed pillows and straitened the scratchy hospital sheets and when I reached for his hand, he obliged and attempted to fold his 6'4'' frame onto the hospital bed that had already reached maximum occupancy with my pregnant-with-twins self. In that moment, as I sobbed into his chest, there was a oneness to us that some only dream of finding in this life. This horrifically beautiful image of a man trying to comfort his anguished wife over the death of their son is a memory I turn to when the ins-and-outs of daily life make our marriage seem ordinary and stale. There was nothing stale about that moment - it was pure emotion dealt with in the way that works best for us - in each other's arms. A few minutes into that soul-stretching embrace, a nurse came to check one of the millions of things that the nurses kept checking. She apologized for intruding and quickly tried to dispose of herself but the spell was broken. That brief moment of wholeness during a time when I was completely shattered is one of my most precious memories.

(Sorry that was a little heavy-handed.)

1 comment:

Jana Weaver said...

You write even the hard and beautiful things so, so well.