Waiting For Life

I opened my eyes to the sun shining gloriously melting the last of the frost on the night’s cold ground. The wood stove held nothing but gray coals from the fire that burned all night. I made my way to the coffee pot to prepare my morning ritual, as the first words spoken of the day are held until the first sip. The French vanilla creamer perfectly mixed in coffee closed my eyes again with heavenly appreciation as I try to wake up to begin the day. Milling over coffee for an hour and basking in silence, the fog in my mind begins to dissipate. Although it is February, mid-morning begins to feel like a spring afternoon. I have a million things that need to get done from washing dishes to laundry and I am hesitant on where to begin. My thought is interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. Who knew that one phone call would change my day, not too mention my entire life forever?

           Her voice was calm and collected. She just needed to get motherly advice. It is not unusual for my daughter to call to get information of what everyone was going to be doing for the day. It was her day off. The first one after several days of working long hours. “Mom, I’m not feeling right”, she stated over the phone. She was 35 weeks pregnant with her second child and everything was normal other than some preterm labor a week prior. Indulging on Mexican food the night before, she thought maybe food poisoning was the culprit. I could not help but agree with her but suggested that she may need to give the doctor’s office a call. We have a close relationship. Thirty minutes dragged by as I waited for her to call me back to let me know what the doctor had advised her to do. My anxiety began to get the best of me, so I tried to get started with washing dishes in the sink from breakfast. An hour later, the telephone rings. Finally, it is her. She immediately apologized for not calling me back sooner, but a bird was desperately abrading a window to get inside. Once the panicked bird moved on, she was able to call the physician which decided it was best to come on in and get checked out since she was close to delivery.

           My daughter came and picked me up and we traveled to the hospital. I could not help but to be excited with the thought that we may be getting a precious baby girl today. She was having mild contractions and she felt sick to her stomach. I gazed out the window of the car staring at the sky imagining my granddaughter’s beautiful eyes and a head full of hair. I could not help but stare at my daughter as she was about to become a mother once again. Profoundness ran down my cheeks. She rocks the mom position to spunky, energetic, healthy two-year-old boy. The 30-minute drive seemed like hours to reach the hospital. The ER doors swished open and she registered at the desk and immediately was taken upstairs to labor and delivery. I went along side of her sitting quietly waiting for an ultrasound to be performed. Nurses came in and out checking her vitals and I sat in silence.

           A young RN made her way into the exam room asking question after question. She began to put the monitor on my daughter to measure the baby’s heart rate and her contractions. They shared small talk as the nurse strategically moved the monitor around to capture the baby’s heartbeat. For 15 minutes she rolled the paddle from one side to another, from the bottom to the top of her stomach. The nurse’s facial expression never changed so I could not read what her thoughts were. She went to find another nurse for an attempt of proper placement of the monitor. I had to remind myself to breathe. Suddenly I began to grow nervous. The next nurse came in and repeated the steps of the first, never making eye contact. After several more minutes, she too, was unsuccessful of finding a heartbeat. The ultrasound technician made his way in from his farm, as he was on call this particular weekend. Only minutes after he completed the ultrasound, the exam room filled with nurses from different departments. My daughter laid there and waited to be taken to a room for delivery of a baby girl. The original RN explained that she would be staying with my daughter during labor and delivery. What would come next, I truly was not prepared for. My daughter was not prepared for what she was about to hear and what she would have to endure. There was no heartbeat and she would have to deliver her lifeless baby girl.

           Absolute DARKNESS fell consuming my every feeling and thought. I tried to contain the tears. I had to be strong for my baby who seemed to be struck with shock and disbelief. She was terrified, and I was terrified for her. The ticking of the clock stung my mind every minute for what seemed like a lifetime. The intensity of her labor ripped my heart in two as all I could do is stand by and hold her hand reminding her it would be over soon. We both held on to the thought that they were wrong; we will hear her cry and she will be breathing. She was perfect! A healthy weight and length with a head full of beautiful wavy dark hair, but lifeless. They wrapped her tight in a blanket. I held my sweet angel, noting every perfect part of her sobbing as I would never see her open her eyes. My heart ached with pain. I handed her gently to her mommy she could hold her tight even if it were for just a short time. My daughter’s heart ache broke my spirit and left me helpless to make it better this time.

           We buried our sweet Avery just a few days after being born. A mother prepares for months for their new bundle of joy. You wait patiently for the day they arrive and never expect to leave the hospital without them. We must be thankful for the time we could have with her. We were fortunate to be able to hold her even if it was just once. Every life is precious and should never be taken for granted. Avery will always be apart of our family and live within our hearts as long as we are here.