I got checked in and they immediately called me back. They gave me two pills to put on my gums at the top of my mouth. This would help to jump start labor. The pills dissolved and they then sent me back out into the waiting room. While in the waiting room, there was a couple who had been called into the office. When the door opened back up for them to leave, the woman was crying. I knew all to well what she was feeling. I just knew that she wasn’t there because she wanted to be. She was there for the same reason I was there and I had such an urge to talk to her. But in all reality, I didn’t have any words for her that would make her feel any better. 

I think I was in the waiting room for a couple hours until I started feeling some pressure. I was told that once I started to feel pressure, I had to let the front desk know. So I did, and she brought me back into a room. They then gave me another dissolvable pill to kickstart the labor. Once given the pill, they put me in the backroom/waiting room along with a few other girls. Now, this was more like a big room with recliner chairs and curtains separating us from each other. You could still hear everything everyone was saying. As I’m sitting there, I hear a girl/woman saying she hadn’t had sex in 18 months and the one time she does, she ends up pregnant. That is why she was there. She was there to have an abortion. An abortion of a healthy baby. At that point I felt such anger. Here I am, sitting there in both physical and mental agony because my child is sick and possibly would not survive full term but yet she is there because she chose to be there all because she did not want a child. It was here at this point that I questioned why God would give someone who did not want a child, a healthy baby but yet here I am wanting this child and he’s sick. Why is it that good people have bad things happen to them but then the bad people get the good? Its not fair. 

Some more time had passed and by this time, the contractions are fierce. They still have me in the recliner sofa chair. The nurse finally lets me know that a room is free. She leads me there (walking) and has me get on the table. Yes it was a medical table, not a bed. Once on the table she tells me that the doctor would be with me shortly. At this time, I am in full blown labor. I’m not sure how far apart my contractions are but it feels constant. No break in between. Now with my other children, I had epidural for them all so yes I’ve felt labor pains, but nothing of this sort. This was torture, in-humane. I was moaning and groaning, rocking myself from side to side , while watching the clock tick by on that table. I remember calling out for help because the pain was too much. Nothing of what I’ve felt before. With what felt like eternity, the doctor came in along with a nurse. I think he asked me how I was feeling but I can’t remember if I even answered him. By this time I was crying. He then proceeded to take the needle and place it in my arm with the sleep aide/anesthesia. Next thing I know i’m waking up back in the recliner chair. The nurse was nearby and the first thing I ask her was if the baby had it, did he have Spina Bifida? She advised me that he did. I knew that everything I had been through was done for a reason. 

Not long after waking up, they called my husband to come around to the back of the building. Yes, they have you leave through the back door. The whole thing seemed so cold and heartless. As if you were a secret that they didn’t want anyone to find out about. I was coherent and knew things going on around me but was still woozy from the anesthesia. On our way to go pick up the kids from school, a rainbow appeared. There was no rain. I honestly believe that was my baby letting me know he’s okay. It was definitely a sign. One that I didn’t know I would look for every time I feel a certain way.

After I was home, it was if nothing ever happened. I was back to taking care of the kids, doing day to day things. To me, it was sort of an out of body experience. I was physically there, but mentally I was no where to be found. Depression set in. To me, nothing mattered. The only thing that mattered to me was that I would never know my child. I’d never get to see what he looked like, how he acted, nothing. That was devastating for me. I had never dealt with death in that manner. Yes, I’ve had family members pass away but this was different. A part of me died along with Nathan. I felt that and honestly I still do. What really hurt is that I had the same effects of a woman who had given birth. My stomach was still present, my breasts filled with milk, I bled.  Hardest part was I didn’t have the baby to go along with them. It’s as if that was my karma for what I had done.