Showing posts from May, 2017

By his wounds

The memory remains clear.  I was sitting on the elevated table covered with a sheet of thin, crinkly paper.  The man in the white coat, M.D. credentials embroidered in blue, stood in front of me.  His words left my anger boiling just below the surface.  I could feel the heat flash into my face.  The brimming tears blurred my vision before spilling onto my cheeks.  I regretted how they betrayed my sense of control.  My hands clenched the edges of the table beneath me.  My jaw was set.

He had told me it was too late in the pregnancy to turn the baby.  He was breech, and the safest way to deliver a past-due baby was by C-section.  I was given no other option.  I would have to take the scar; a scar I would wear forever because of a mistake, an oversight, a miscalculation.  I hated my lack of power.  I hated that my choice was taken.

All of my planning and dreaming of bringing a child into this world under my strength and endurance vanished.  I see my selfishness now, but in that moment, t…