There are those days in all of our lives we will never forget. Those days define who we are, our character, either good or bad. These two days are two of mine.
It was a hot Spring day. I had on a light blue dress with silver sandals. I was on my way to visit Ron in the hospital. His liver had been poisoned with toxic levels from something I can't remember. He was very sick. On the way to the hospital, I thought I would stop by the SL Clinic for a pregnancy test. My period was late but I was sure it was because of the stress and pressure of things that were going on. Sure enough, it was positive. (I guess Ron felt OK every now and again. Sorry kids, I know that's a gross out!) I got to my car and started balling! When I arrived at the hospital Ron could tell I had been crying. When I told him what the matter was, he was even more sick! I told everyone I needed to have a miscarriage, I couldn't have another baby, not now. Some agreed.
I was well into my pregnancy. Andy's little heart was strong and clear. It was too late to miscarry. I had a healthy pregnancy.
It was Sept. 25th, 16 yrs. ago. I was just about 2 weeks away from starting my 3rd trimester. It was Monday. I had a doctor's appointment. I didn't want to go. At the last minute I jumped in the car. The doc measured me. Great! I had gained the right amount of weight. Great! Then he got the instrument to listen to the heartbeat he had heard many times before. Hum, that little bugger is hiding from us. Try again. Hum. He is stubborn. Hum. Silence. Then. Did Ron come with you? No. I need to send you down for an ultrasound. I'm sure everything is fine.
I knew what the answer was. I laid on the table and the tears started streaming. Could I really have willed my little baby to die? The doc told me that I was too far along, I would have to go through labor and delivery. But I had to wait until Wednesday.
When Andy was born, the nurse wrapped him in a blanket. I only held him for a few minutes. Ron held him most of the time. When we were through she asked if she should "take care of him". Ron and I looked at each other. We didn't know, we weren't given any options. Maybe there weren't any. I know now that they put Andy in the garbage with all the other things patients didn't know what to do with. I wish I had a foot and hand print. I think they do that now. They took a picture of him but it was so ghastly to me that I threw it away. Chelsea found it in the garbage can and was so angry at me. It was the only remembrance of her brother. We did get the blanket he was wrapped in. I found Jessica with her nose in the blanket crying, "Why didn't you let me see him!"
Whenever I revisited those days in my soul, it was a pain no pill could ever mask, but I tried.
Today I picture two, maybe three, little boys playing in a spirit -kind -of- way in heaven. Andy gets serious and says, "Mom and dad will be raising 5 children on earth." Nils being the oldest knew what Andy was getting at. Curtis might then reply, "K", and then realize that he was number 6. Andy would put his arm reassuringly around Curtis. "Don't worry, you will be number 5. I love you so much! We will all be together someday!"
And now I am grateful for what fate has in store. Someone is in control when we are not. I can hardly wait to throw my arms around my Andy and say think you, I love you so!
And because of him, we have our Curtis.