A week ago, Israel and I were at the gym. We always go at the unholy 6 o’clock hour. Every Tuesday I wonder why in the world we do it so early, but he seems to love going that early. So, we go.
This Tuesday started like any other Tuesday, I woke up before Holly, which only happens once during the weekdays. I got going and made my way for the gym after kissing Holly goodbye. While I was at the gym, we had just finished running, I got a text from Holly saying that she was having a headache and suggested that we ask her doctor about it the next day at our appointment.
I put my phone in a cubby and we started lifting. It was completely unremarkable until someone knocked at the door of the gym. That, in and of itself, makes for a completely different type of visit to the gym. Israel went to see who was at the door and it was my sister-in-law.
Anytime someone starts the conversation with “Don’t freak out,” your first inclination is to freak out.
“Holly was in an accident, but she’s okay.”
Panic. Absolute panic.
We made our way to where my pregnant wife was in some condition. I had no idea what I would find when I got there. Once I got there, I saw a firetruck, 2 state highway patrol cars and an ambulance.
I found Holly in the ambulance, sitting there talking to the trooper.
She was okay.
We called the OB while we were waiting for the tow truck, and they said it sounded like everything was okay. They said if anything seemed wrong we should come in immediately.
Thus began 24 hours of uncertainty. Thus began 24 hours of doubt. Thus began 24 hours of me wondering how I could let this happen.
I couldn’t get my own panic out of my head. I am completely confident that I’m supposed to be the protector for Holly and the baby, and here we were in a state where I didn’t know if the baby was okay.
As far as I knew, I had completely let my growing family down.
We went to the doctor the next day and she said, “we’ll listen for the baby’s heartbeat.” That was it, the moment of truth. Was Baby Connell still alive? Was (s)he okay?
A month ago, the doctor found the heartbeat in a couple of seconds. I was confident that we’d hear his (or her) little heart beating.
It felt like hours of agony as she searched and searched. My heart fell into the bottom of my stomach.
There was no heartbeat. And then she found it.
The last time, it was neat… but didn’t change my life (as I wrote about then).
This time, it was completely different. I let out a (very) audible sigh. S/he was okay. I wasn’t a total failure.
I realize, I probably overreacted. I may have been a little crazy. But I’m confident of this, I’ve never felt like that in my whole life. I’ve never been so glad to hear a sound as I was to hear that heartbeat.
They could tell me the baby was alright all they wanted, but until I heard it for myself, I didn’t have any idea.
So, last week, my life was turned upside down. I realize now, more than ever, that I’m in charge of protecting and caring for this family of mine. I can’t wait to hold this little baby in my arms, and I’ll never let anything happen to him (or her).
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