I walked into work yesterday and took my seat at the ER desk. I was put on light duty when the bleeding started in the second trimester, and remain on the desk until I feel I am strong enough physically and emotionally to go back on the ER floor. Honestly, I think the physical part of me will be ready before the emotional. You never know what you will run into on the floor, babies, abused women, pregnant women, etc., and it can get VERY stressful. Although I seem to be pretty emotionally stable to most, the truth is I get emotional very easily, just ask Foster. At this point, I am not sure how I would handle an immense amount of stress, so I am happy to keep my butt at the desk for as long as my boss allows me. Also, I like the fact that I can kind of "escape" and not talk to anyone if I don't want to while I am working as the Unit Clerk and can escape into my thoughts.
Well, I was sitting there when a familiar face walked up in scrubs. I had to do a double take because I am used to seeing this same face in Army combat uniform (ACUs). "Ray" is a fellow soldier who happens to be in my National Guard Unit. He and I have hit it off as friends because not only are we in the same unit, but we also endured the torture of ROTC at Ohio State together. For those of you who are not familiar with the military jargon, ROTC is Officer training that you participate in while you are in college.
When I realized who I was looking at I was surprised and happy to see him. "Where did you come from?" Ray asked.
"I have been working here for almost 3 years, where did YOU come from?" I responded. Apparently he was recently hired while I was gone for my 6 week leave.
All of the sudden his smile dropped, and he started apologizing, "I am so sorry, I am so sorry."
To most, this would appear to be his way of showing his condolences, but what my other coworkers did not realize, is that Ray and I had had a really serious conversation the day before Rosie passed.
Sunday of my drill weekend, I was as big as a house and sitting on one of the chairs in the common room with my swollen feet elevated as high as I could get them. Ray sat down beside me, "Hey Finny," he greeted using my nickname amongst my fellow soldiers, "how are you feeling lately?"
"Pretty good," I replied, "Obviously a lot of swelling, but the baby and I are doing well, thanks."
"Will you do me a favor?" He asked, "Keep close track of your kicks and the baby's movement."
"Sure," I said, "But why the concern?"
"I just witnessed a 36 week baby pass in its mother's womb. She had noticed a decrease in movement, and when she came in they could not find the baby's heartbeat. It was heartbreaking, and it made me realize that even this far the baby is still not 'in the clear'," he explained.
"That is awful! I cannot even imagine," I exclaimed. "I don't know what I would do," I said as I rubbed my hand protectively over my belly.
Now he was apologizing for this conversation, as if he had jinxed me, "Oh hun! Don't be sorry. After our conversation, I was so attentive to all of Rosie's movements. If it had not been for your advice, I may not have realized as quickly as I did that something was wrong. Thank you." I tried to put him at ease.
"Thank you? Are you serious? Ever since I heard the news all I kept thinking about is that conversation, and have felt so bad," he said.
"Please don't. It is not your fault."
"I am so sorry for your loss," Ray said as he gave me a quick hug.
It is funny, because just like Ray, I have thought back to the talk we had many times, and kept thinking about how I never imagined that I would be going through the same pain that the mother he had mentioned is. I also wondered what I would do if I was that mother. Well, I now am that mother, and I am dealing. It is amazing how much strength God gives us, and it is true, he does not ever give us more than we can handel. This story is just another example of the ways I believe God was preparing me and warning me that something was going to happen. God sure does work in mysterious ways!
Goodbye, Old Friend
3 years ago
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