Tuesday, April 02, 2019

MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172cc)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172cc)

Elle and I’d been letting the kids stay up later now that school was out and the days were longer. Since they didn’t have to get up bright and early in the morning Elle would let them sleep in. However, 9:30pm was when it was time to start getting ready for bed. It was approaching that time when I finally came in the house. Elle was curled up in her favorite chair… asleep, and the girls were putting their projects away. I had to smile at that because they were doing it without being reminded. In my mind it called for a ‘reward’, but not at that time. Elle woke up in time to kiss the girls good night and then headed for bed. Having been on my feet and crouched over the sign for almost four hours straight I headed for my reclining chair… which was a mistake. I woke up with all the lights on at around 1am. I made it in to bed without waking Elle but found myself rolling and tossing as I thought about the sign. I hated deadlines with signs so when I saw it getting light out I rolled out of bed. I had put all my paints and thinners together the night before and was set to start as soon as there was sunlight. I grabbed an English muffin and some juice while waiting but when the sun started streaming through the kitchen window I was out the door.

I glanced at my watch around 9am and thought I’d take break to see what everybody was doing. The older girls were up, dressed and eating their breakfast when I walked in. I asked about their mother and was told she was still in bed. I figured that with the tiredness she’d been experiencing that it was probably just as well. When I headed back outside I asked them to let me know when she came downstairs. I honestly don’t know how long it was before Jean (the oldest) came running out saying I had to go upstairs, ”… right away!” As we made our way up the walk to the house I asked if anything was wrong. “Mommy’s bleeding… a lot!” Up the stairs I went, two at a time. The other two girls were outside the closed bathroom door and I told them to go into their rooms as I opened the door. Elle was sitting on the toilet with her “package”, almost completely blood soaked, down around her ankles. Her face was as white as I’d ever seen a person be. I was trying not to panic and, at the same time act as calmly as I could be when addressing her. The toilet was nestled between the sink and the outside wall with the window right there. She was holding onto the window sill with her right hand and the edge of the sink with the other. I asked her what had happened and she just looked down at the soggy package at her ankles. “I think I lost the baby…” was what I heard in a faint whisper. I probably asked the most asinine question I could when I asked if she was OK. She told me to go call the doctor and said she'd be OK and wouldn’t fall. It was as I went down the hall to our room to get to the phone that what she’d told me finally registered… that she’d lost the baby.

Of course, the doctor told me to get her to the hospital ASAP. I was going to call her mother to come watch the kids but quickly abandoned that thought. She’d want to go to the hospital with Elle and I still wouldn’t have anyone to watch the kids. Jean, who had seen Elle and the bloody mess, came up and asked if her mommy was going to die. I assured that she wasn’t but I was going to take her to the hospital, just to be sure. The only ambulance in the whole township was some 12 miles away and then they had to find a driver for it. (I told you we were rural!) I was sure I could get her there quicker. With Jean right by my side I told her to run next door and ask if one of the ladies could come right over as there was an emergency. I also told her not to mention the blood.

Back in the bathroom I attempted to clean Elle up a bit wiping down her legs. She was still bleeding but it was more like a regular period than hemorrhaging. I took two hand towels to make up a diaper like thing to put between her legs. How to hold it up was a bit of a problem… until Mattie and Martha both appeared. They were both shocked to see her and immediately Mattie offered to look after the kids while I took Elle to the hospital. Martha saw the problem I was having with keeping the towels in place and suggested a pair of shorts. She stayed with Elle while I went to get a pair and when I returned she offered to ride with us on the trip to the hospital. Elle was so weak she could hardly stand which created a bit of a problem getting her down the stairs. Between the three of us we got her successfully into the back seat of the station wagon and, with Martha sitting beside her, we were on our way. While we were getting her seated Mattie ran back to her house to fetch her two kids as well as Martha’s daughter.

The trip to the hospital went without incident. Martha had to really work on keeping Elle awake. There was no one in the emergency room so she was attended to immediately. Her doctor arrived within minutes of our arrival… and then it was the inevitable waiting. The not knowing how she was made the minutes seem like hours. Martha and I made small talk to kind of move the minutes along. I’m not sure how long it was before the doctor came out but the news she had was good. Elle had lost a lot of blood and they’d given her two transfusions. She was to be admitted after she was stabilized and when I asked for how long she said it would be up to how quickly Elle responded. I had to ‘push’ to get her to even give a guess. She finally said it would be at least Saturday but it could be more. I thanked her but before she left she asked to speak to me in the hall.

I remember these few minutes vividly as she told me that the miscarriage was probably a very good thing. She couldn’t be sure but the indications were that if the pregnancy had continued much longer it might’ve been a major problem for Elle. As it stood, once Elle got her strength back they would do a simple procedure and she’d be “back to normal”. I don’t know exactly why but I wanted to ask if that meant her severe incontinence would go away… but didn’t. I thanked her again for responding so quickly and she told me she’d be back to check on her in the afternoon.

Back in the waiting room I told Martha to take my station wagon and go back home and that I’d call my father when Elle was moved to a room and after I could talk with her. I wanted to know her state of mind. The pregnancy had been a surprise to both of us and, after a period of adjustment, had started planning for the future. In reading my DayTimer for that day there was one thing that jumped out at me… I’d written that I was relieved. Even though I wrote it I had always planned on welcoming the baby into our family even though it was going to create some problems for us. We’d avoided really getting into the details but knew we’d have to face up to it. Now, I had to make sure Elle wasn’t going to be depressed about the loss of the baby.

To be continued…

2 comments:

oldblue said...

As a long time reader, I wondered when this was coming. The lose of a child is always tough for everyone. I think much tougher for women to get over as I am sure there is a sense of not doing something right that would cause this. This was probably a rocky time for the both of you. Feelings of guilt for men when you don't want anymore kids seem to be quite common Good luck, even though it was long ago, memories last forever.

Pantymaven said...

OB... thanks for posting your observation... right on, as usual...