peggy

Through Pain and Grief

The words death and grief are not foreign to me. I know them quite well.
These words mean pain and there is no escaping it to get to the "other side."

As I was completing my first year of college my mother became very ill. We found a good doctor and he operated on her only to find she had cancer of the stomach, liver and colon. She lived only 5 weeks after her surgery. The last 2 at home, where she wanted to die. I would not believe that she was going to die. My mother was a woman of great faith and we prayed and believed she would be healed miraculously. The last night, I told her not to forget to pray for her healing. She looked at me as if she knew that would not happen. I called our Priest and explained that I could not accept this. Then he asked me one of the most intriguing questions... "Can you accept the fact that death is the ultimate healing?" I pondered the question and finally answered "yes." What I didn't realize was that she was getting the miracle she wanted and that was for me to accept her death. During the night, her breathing became very labored and I can't explain the physical changes she went through during the short hours until her death. Her last words, "yes, I'm ready." Never would I look at death as the end. I was 18.

I entered the convent, the Dominican Sisters of St. Cecilia, in Nashville, Tennessee, (*click to visit) at 19, giving my life over to God. I loved it there. My soul was fed by our life of prayer. My father's illness became worse and I decided to leave the convent and return home to care for him. Being the only child not married, I became the primary caretaker of father who had many infirmities as well as Alzheimer's Disease.

After several years, I met a wonderful man and fell in love. We had so much in common, especially our love for our faith and we are both musicians. We talked about marriage but I could not leave my father at that time.

In the early Spring as the Earth was beginning to show signs of new life~ I too was to show signs of life growing within me. The pregnancy test was positive. We were going to have a baby. I know it was not fair to place all my happiness on that baby but I did. I expected her to be my reason for living after my father would die.

The pregnancy was moving along with no problems. On July 18th I started spotting. I was at work. I called the doctor and he said for me to rest and to come into his office the next day for my scheduled appointment. I went home and went to bed. It was my father's birthday and all my family were to meet at his favorite restaurant. I had to go, I had to take my father. Afterwards, I went back to bed. The next morning I woke up in a puddle of blood. I called Mike and he took me to the doctor's office. He took one look at all the blood and called for an ultrasound. From the look on the nurses face I knew something was terribly wrong. She looked and looked but could not find a heartbeat. How could this be? Just a few days before we saw her sucking her thumb and moving about on that same screen, in that same room. The room was filled with joy and awe. Now the room was silent and then cries of pain and deep sorrow. The doctor wanted me to wait and let mother nature take her course. Because of the blood loss I had to be induced. The thoughts of going through labor made me even more outraged. After all, I would not have a baby to take home with me.

On July 21st, after only 4 hours, I delivered my daughter, Anne Elizabeth. She weighed 1 lb. 12 oz. and was 12 inches long. She was beautiful but so tiny. I did not get to hold her as I had to be rushed into surgery to stop the bleeding. Mike held her and took pictures and one of our dear priest friends came to Baptize her. Mike gave me a locket to put Annie's picture in.

I fell into a deep depression. All I ever wanted in life was a baby and now she was gone. I didn't care about the future, I wanted my baby with me now. Her death was surrounded with other losses~ My father died in May '90, my grandmother died Sept 10, '90, my aunt died Sept 20, '90, I had to have my left tube and ovary removed in Oct '90 and my other grandmother died Nov. 10, '90. I thought maybe God was punishing me for getting pregnant before I was married. The most difficult problem was that I felt like I was in this alone. Mike didn't grieve as I did so I thought he didn't love her like I did. I know now that was wrong for me to think that. Men do grieve differently than women. Only a few people knew I was pregnant so I couldn't explain losing her. I finally found ShareAtlanta and my life changed. I went for counselling to a psychiatrist and therapist. I could not have made it without the support of my friends and therapist.

I learned that I had to give myself permission to grieve. I had to make the decision to move forward or stay stuck in the past. It took me a long time but I finally got myself together. Doctors, therapists and friends can only do so much. The choice to go on with life is up to us. .......