When Television Transcends Entertainment
I have stopped writing about television here for the most part because I have another blog that I’m writing about television in. But last night’s ER season premiere hit me in much deeper places than most tv shows do. There will be some spoilers here, so if you are planning to watch it and haven’t yet, you might want to skip reading this post until you do…
Just to set up the scenario - at the end of last season, Abby (one of the residents), who was pregnant with Luka’s baby, collapsed in a pool of blood. Because of a bunch of other stuff going on in the hospital at the same time which I won’t go into here, they didn’t find her right away, but they finally did and they rushed to help her. I would conjecture that she was about 30 weeks along at the time or so. It might have been less, but I’m going by what she said about the baby not being due for 2 1/2 months, and that to me equals 10 weeks, but give or take a week.
Anyway, things were going wrong, but the baby was hanging in there. They were concerned about an abruption. Abby said she was going to hold out for two more weeks when the risks of prematurity plummet (which would be about 32 weeks if I’m not mistaken, having been there). But instead, she gushed blood and they rushed her to the OR and delivered a baby via c-section. They had to continue to work on her, but she sent the father off with the baby because she “didn’t want him to be alone.”
The baby could not breathe on his own and there were many other issues, but he was hanging in there at the end of the episode. The other big thing, though, was that they couldn’t get her blood to clot in her uterus and they ended up having to do a hysterectomy to basically save her life. So now they have a very sick baby and no hope of ever having another. That’s a lot to take all at once, but it’s a tv show and it’s all about drama right?
Except. Except that I lived through some of that, you know? And watching it was like reliving it in some ways. And it was also like a glimpse into what might have been if we hadn’t been so very very blessed.
I don’t normally like to think about “what might have been” because what is, is and it can’t be changed. So why start thinking about all the “ifs”. But sometimes, thinking about the “ifs” makes you more thankful for the “is”.
So here is the “Is”:
• Little Girl stayed in utero for 32 weeks and change.
• My doctor gave me steroid shots about a week before she came, so her lungs were mature and functioning beautifully.
• She was NOT sick. Not one iota. She was a “feeder/grower” and just needed to learn how to regulate her temperature and eat.
• Yes there was a gush of blood and yes there was a rush to the OR and yes there were some issues in my uterus that my doctor had to take care of before he closed up, but it wasn’t anything that would prevent me from having another baby if we were blessed to get pregnant again.
• Yes I sent Mike off with LG because I wanted one of us with her and if it couldn’t be me then it had to be him.
I think sometimes things really really hit you a long time after they happen. When you have more clarity. When you’ve come so far past it that you can handle the reality check, because you know everything turned out all right. Only then can you truly let go of all the emotions that had been bottled up inside you.
And last night watching ER, I think hope I finally let go of all the scary stuff. I faced the reality that our story could have had an ending that was not as happy or at least happy as quickly as it was.
Little Girl could have been sick. But she wasn’t.
One or both of us could have died when I was gushing blood. But we didn’t.
I think sometimes that is part of what has held me back from actually trying to get pregnant again.
Because we were so very blessed. So blessed. Blessed beyond measure. And how can I ask God for another blessing like that? When other people don’t have even one blessing, how can I ask for two?
I read a post the other day, about someone asking the same question and her answer really struck me. Shouldn’t one miracle be enough, her friend asked (regarding her own blessed child)? And how could you ever look at your child and say he or she is not enough? Her answer was that if it’s that good why wouldn’t you ask for more?
Why indeed.
Last night, I went to my daughter’s bedroom and watched her breathe. I touched her silky soft skin and it was all I could do not to fall to my knees in her room and shout out my thanks to God for her. But I didn’t want to wake her up, so I thanked Him silently.
Last night, I sat in the middle of my bed sobbing. Sobbing for what could have been and sobbing for what was. And thanking God. Thanking Him so much for what IS.
I think that in some strange way a television show and a blog post may have moved me to a better place. Because while she is “enough”, she is so much more than that. She is amazing and wonderful and the best thing that has ever happened to me. And why wouldn’t I want more of that?
I may never have another child, but I’m over feeling guilty about wanting one.
Thank you Lord for our beautiful daughter who is goodness and light and mischief and joy, and if you see fit to bless us with another child, we will welcome her or him with open arms and never think that we don’t deserve your gift. If you think we do, then we do. Amen.
