Duality of Emotion
In a constant pursuit of sanity, I struggle with a duality of emotion everyday. The story begins about three years ago when my wife and I found out she was pregnant. We pretty much knew right away as hot flashes and dizziness were almost immediate. Shortly thereafter we learned that she was carrying a girl. We were excited either way. Hold that thought….Let me back up a few years here, nineteen to be precise. Just after the birth of my oldest son, which was 18 months after the birth of my twin daughters, my significant other at the time and I decided we should take preventative measures to keep from having a fourth. So, I was the fall guy and had a vasectomy. After the dissolution of that union, I had a feeling that I would have a son when I was in my 40’s, not sure if this was self-fulfilling prophecy or if it was a case of the mysterious e.s.p. So to give self-fulfilling prophecy an opportunity before I was honorably discharged from the military I decided to have a vasovasectomy.
I was told by the doctors in the military that the reversal would be improbable because I waited so long, 10 years in my case. I eventually went to the doctor several years later to confirm what I already had known and that was the reversal was not a success. My wife convinced me to go to a specialist to see if there was anything that could be done. He told us that what I learned in the military about vasectomies simply were just not true. We scheduled a procedure right away. I still remember during the procedure (though I was doped up) the doctor saying, “I counted 10 million cells, which is a step in the right direction”.
This brings me back to the beginning of the story. In our minds this was a little miracle girl waiting to be brought into this world. Now I don’t take sides on abortion, nor do I understand the arguments on either side. I don’t even judge people for what they believe. But what I can tell you, to us, this child was alive and growing and to me, life begins where you have accepted that life into your heart. To us she was real, had personality, and had a name; Cambria Quinn, Cami for short. She was number five for our blended family as my wife has a beautiful daughter from a previous marriage.
Like a normal couple with the nesting instinct, we had her room full of baby girl clothes. All of the furniture was on order and needing to be set up. At the time it was all due in fairly soon. Stuff was arriving a little at a time since did most of our shopping on line. My wife and I would send emails back and forth all day long, “What do you think of this and do you think I should get that?” We finally got everything needed to begin taking care of a new member of our household.
I remember one time going to pick up my step-daughter from school and I was at a 3-way stop by the local junior high school. The football team was fitted up with pads and practicing vigorously in the rain soaked field. A random thought shot through my mind knowing I was going to have another daughter. “I will never get to watch my son in my visions play sports.” This was the son that I always knew I was going to have but we were having a girl instead. It was a brief moment of sadness; however, I was still happy to have a miracle child. The thought, though fleeting at the time, still haunts me today.
During the pregnancy my wife was having irregular contractions. These were serious however; the doctors and nurses dismissed them as Braxton-Hicks contractions and just sent us on our way. There were numerous visits and most of the time she would be given terbutaline. Three days after Christmas I was still setting up toys for the family when my wife decided to go to the local hospital because of the same symptoms. She convinced me to stay home and that she would be okay. She would come back home in an hour or two. About forty-five minutes later my cell phone rang, I picked up and all I heard was, “Our baby is dead!” I could barely understand what she said after that she was crying so hard and I wasn’t there with her. All I could say “I am on my way!” The hospital is less than two miles away but it seemed to take forever to get there. I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. I just remember having tunnel vision and nearly hyperventilating along the way. I just knew I needed to get to the hospital to be with my wife when she needed me the most. I should have taken her to the hospital.
As frail as my wife presents herself, she is a strong woman. She endured twenty four hours of labor knowing she was going to deliver our miracle child naturally, our child who would never have a first breath of life. There was an odd happiness about her to do it. I tried to be with her as much as possible during that 24-hour period, but I had to tell the family what was going on. The older kids drove down from up north to be with us. It was one of the most selfless acts those kids have ever done. I am truly proud of them as we both needed their support.
After delivery the doctor made the comment that he was perplexed as the baby looked otherwise healthy. There were no immediate signs of abnormalities on the baby that would define the demise of the pregnancy. She was a beautiful baby, looked much like her mother. The nurse cleaned the baby off and allowed us to hold her. My wife later said that she remember my rocking the baby in the corner and crying. I only remember the latter. This indeed was the saddest time in my life.
When we got home there were several things that stand out. In the time that we were at the hospital, a bunch of the furniture we ordered was waiting on the doorstep for us. Also waiting for us was our 5-year old daughter who was just returning from Christmas vacation with her father. She wasn’t aware of what was going on at the time. As I got out of the car, my neighbor with all good intentions comes running up with a smile on his face and asked “Well how’d it go?” I pulled him aside and explained what happened. I am pretty sure he felt like a jerk for at least a month, even though I forgave him immediately. We took our 5-year old to our bed room and told her that baby Cami would never come home. My wife, my step daughter, and I cried together.
From this I became angry at a lot of things; Life for death, love for loss, happiness for pain, and most of all God for thinking He needed another cherub.
Time passes, but it does not heal all wounds. That is the one of the biggest lies ever told. Even today, I cried with my wife (two and half years later). So I know she has not healed either. I don’t think we ever will. I truly believe that we are holding on to our pain because it is the only tangible thing we have of our daughter. It is the only experience we have with her.
In the beginning of this blog I stated that I was struggling with a duality of feelings. To explain this struggle, my wife and I decided to try to have another child. This time it was successful but not without tribulations. She had the same symptoms, but luckily the doctor was feeling a bit gun shy and sent us to a maternal-fetal medicine specialist. To make this long story a bit shorter, our son was born on Halloween, 2006. He is a great joy in our life and makes us happy every day, even on his bad days. Where I struggle is the fact that he would not exist if Cami were alive. I feel guilty for loving him so much when my daughter had to die for him to be born.
I can honestly say that when Cami died there was a void in my heart. I think of her every day. And when my son (Z) was born, that void in my heart is still there, its just that my heart is much tighter with the love for all the other kids.
My wife and I took Z to the cemetery where Cami is laid to rest. He does not understand why he is there just yet, but I do want him to know that though she is not with us, she is and will always be an important part of our lives.
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