A Life Wasted

January 1999

This is the start of a part of my life that don't want to write about. I've aired enough of my dirty laundry here that you would know it has nothing to do with the shame of my mistakes. As much as I hate writing about my mistakes I've accepted the need to do that and have done it so much now that it doesn't bother me. The reason I don't want to write about this stuff is because it is so painful to recall.

First I'll set up the circumstances leading up to what happened in January 1999. Most importantly, Emily was six months pregnant with her second child, a little girl that she named Cierra. Emily's husband Todd was in the United States Coast Guard and had just been transferred to York, Virginia for training, so Emily was staying home with us until he was transferred to a permanent duty station where they could set up their home. Mary and I were still in the throws of our disagreement over her Pastor. We'd reached a sort of peace, but the underlying problem was still there and bothering both of us.

My software writing for the tool and die company in Erie was going poorly. During the years I had spent in prison some major changes had occurred in multi-user business systems with a shift from Unix based software, which I knew, to Windows based software that didn't know. The results being that I was over my head and didn't want to mention this to my customer who had already invested $15,000 in the project. I was at the point where I had accepted that I couldn't complete the job on my own and was looking for experienced help.

That's the setting, here's the story.

I was at my customer's office when I received a call from Mary to tell me she was taking Emily to the hospital. All she said was there is a problem with the baby and to pray. I left the customer's immediately and headed for the hospital. They were still in testing mode by the time I got there and there was nothing I could do but be in the way so I went home to be with the kids. It wasn't long before Mary called and gave me the bad news. The baby was coming out early, too early, and there was noting they could do. The doctor was sure the baby wouldn't survive. Todd was called and was trying to get home, but a bad snow storm in the area was making a flight into Pittsburgh iffy.

When I got back to the hospital Emily was in a room. Mary, Becky and I think Todd's parents were in the room with her. The doctor was in the room explaining the situation. What I heard was his saying that the baby wouldn't make it and there was nothing he could do about it. I couldn't believe how mater-of-factly he delivered this horrible news. I didn't say anything, but did follow the doctor out when he left the room. In the hallway I asked him for a minute of his time. When he turned and saw me he said, "The girl's dad," to the nurse. Being a guy well versed in reading body language I couldn't help but notice he was full of contempt. Had I missed all the other signals I would have never missed the way he rolled his eyes when I introduced myself as if I hadn't heard his "The girl's dad" statement.

I don't recall exactly how the conversation started, but I do remember his saying something to the affect that I need to understand that this kind of thing happens all the time. He said, "For us its just routine." I was on edge with his attitude back in the room, but his blatant statement about the life or death of my granddaughter being "routine" was too much for me. I grabbed him by his shirt and pushed him against the wall, then got in his face and spoke in a low but angry voice. I told there is nothing routine about this for me. Its a first time deal. This is my second grandchild and I expect her to be given every opportunity to enter this life and grow up so I can spoil her.

He began to say something about his procedure being within accepted ethics and legal limits but I stopped him. I said, "You don't understand. I'm not talking the law. I'm talking about you and me. If granddaughter dies and I find out that you did do everything in your power to save her life then we're going to have a chat. You and I. I don't believe in law suits and all that crap. But I do believe in justice." For the first time I raised my voice, "You will do everything you possible can to save that baby's life. If she dies be prepared to convince me that you did everything within your power to save her. If not you will understand what I mean about this being personal."

When I walked away from the room I noticed that someone had followed me out and watched the entire thing. I was so upset that I didn't even notice who it was. I think it was Mary as it would make sense that she picked up on my mood and realized what I was going to do. But I just don't remember. I was suppose to drive to Pittsburgh to pick Todd up at the airport so I just left without saying anything to anyone.

There was a horrible blizzard blowing so it was a long and difficult drive to the Pittsburgh airport. There was either a problem with Todd's flight being diverted to Cleveland or he made it in and made his own way home. Whatever the case he wasn't there, so when I called Mary I found out that Todd was on his way to the hospital now. Emily had went into labor and Serria had been born without a heartbeat.

It was a longer and slower drive back to the hospital. When I got there Emily was balled up in her bed with Todd trying to comfort her through his own tears. My wife sat in a rocking chair, eyes closed and lips moving. I knew she was praying and I knew what she was praying for. We've never discussed it, but I know Mary was asking God to breath life into Serria. I didn't realize Serria was in the room until Todd lifted a small bundle from Emily's grasp and carried it to Mary. It was the way that Mary held the small bundle that made me realize she held the baby. A small triangular flap covered Serria's face. Mary pulled the flap back and touched the baby's face with her finger and kept praying. From my angle I couldn't see Serria's face and I really didn't want to so I kept my distance.

For some time Mary gently rocked in the chair and prayed over Serria. I was worried about Mary because I knew her well enough to know that her pain was running deeper than just this baby. She was also grieving over the child she had aborted many years before. Mary had never fully healed from that tragic mistake so I knew holding this tiny child was causing her to remember and regret in a tangible way. Mary was asking God to give Serria life, but I know she was praying for her own lost child too.

I wanted to take the baby from Mary, but I knew better than to try. When the nurse entered and stood quietly off to the side I saw an opening, so I touched Mary on the shoulder and nodded towards the nurse. Mary handed me the baby with the face cover back on. I turned to give Serria to the nurse but Mary stopped me and said, "Look at her." I really didn't want to do that, but I was concerned about Mary's response if I didn't, so I pulled the little fold of blanket back and looked into the face of my still-born granddaughter.

I didn't expect what I saw. I knew Serria was three months premature so I expected an unformed body part. Like every other person ignorant of these things I didn't see a baby as being real at this point in the process. I was wrong. What I saw was perfectly formed face with two perfect hands held in a loose fist of ten perfect fingers below her face. Not only was her face perfectly formed, but it was beautiful. I don't know the details of when and how Serria stopped living, but I am sure that she was at perfect peace when she did. Her beautiful face told that tale. I've seen this look on the face of a baby many times. It was how our babies looked after Mary had nursed until they fell asleep. Her lips her slightly puckered out and every part of her beamed satisfaction, contentment and at peace. It was a stunningly beautiful image.

*Can't wait for Friday's update? Well now you don't have to! It's finally complete: http://amzn.to/2cU2R8e