His sad gasp pierced my heart. My ready to open the floodgate eyes zoomed in on the poster on the ceiling. I knew it was sports themed, but I couldn't focus. My obstetrician chose his words carefully.
"Kari I'm so sorry. I thought the first ultrasound of the New Year would um, turn out better than this. You had a spontaneous abortion on New Year's Eve. A, ahem, a miscarriage."
I nodded. He gave me a hand to sit up. I couldn't help it, but I was still nodding. Any movement I could make to stave off the onslaught of tears that were well on their way.
"Janelle has some literature to help you Kari. My guess is your body will take care of this naturally. If not, I'm afraid we'll need a D&C. I believe you will be back here with a viable pregnancy once again."
I bit my lip till I tasted blood, still nodding. I felt like I was in the middle of a tunnel experience, with everything around me spinning out of control. My single goal was to get dressed and get out of that office as fast as possible. Janelle had to follow me as I fled out the door to hand me the obligatory 'You can survive a miscarriage' brochure.
I dove in my 1998 Windstar maroon van. The paperwork flew to the passenger seat and my sob came with such force it was a rattling death shriek. I pounded the steering wheel with enough rhythm it sounded like a drum. Whether seconds, minutes or even hours later, I felt completely depleted when I quieted and turned on the ignition.
Of all songs to fill my van from the Christian radio station, it would have to be 'Let Everything that Has Breath, Praise the Lord.' I looked up heavenward with a sneer.
'How could you God? How could you take my baby during worship on New Year's Eve? How could you make me the first ultrasound of the year when I feel like I have to apologize to the doctor for starting the year off on such a downer? How could you play this incredibly cruel song when I am ready to absolutely fall apart and die? My baby does not have breath. She can't praise you. I have breath and I don't feel like praising you. So don't make me Lord, not now.'
I had no business driving myself home but my husband was waiting with optimism as he cared for our two year old son. My face must have told the whole story because my beloved's face fell and he was instantly wrapping me in an embrace. His hand circled my back as he whispered how sorry he was.
"We'll get through this babe, you watch."
I spent the rest of the afternoon in bed alternating between sessions of weeping and cries of despair. By the time Chad called me for dinner, the complete miscarriage was in full swing. Chad flatly noted that God's graciousness was sparing me from the D&C. I pushed away the taco and ran back to bed.
Around seven I heard the phone. I walked out to the family room to see Chad smiling on the phone with our pastor.
"No Pastor, please don't bother traveling all this way to check on us. We're fine. We have a total peace about this. It's God's will."
I froze in place. My grief gave me the shakes so bad I was afraid I'd fall. My anger had such life behind it I couldn't believe how fast my hateful thoughts were running.
"We have a peace about this? No WE do not!"
My words attacked my husband before he clicked the phone off. He spun and seemed shocked.
"Kari I'm sorry. I didn't want to bother them. I figured you'd want to be alone."
"Chad how could you say we have a peace about this? Every trip I make to the bathroom is one where I wonder if this is when"
I fell in a heap on the floor with a new barrage of tears.
"God showed me Kari. The baby is better off in heaven than so sick with us. I have peace. In time you will too. I promise."
I fell asleep on the floor in Chad's arms. I had no dream, no vision, and no peace.
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.
I just can't go there right now.
*Psalm 150:6, NIV
Julie Arduini, http://thesurrenderedscribe.blogspot.com/, is devoted to writing for Christ in ways that encourage and inspire. A graduate of the Christian Writer's Guild, her writing resume is on her blog's sidebar. Happily married to Tom, they have two children.
@2009 by Julie Arduini
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