Where It All Began

by Lorana Hoopes

  I took a deep breath. Now was as good as time as any. “About that, I haven’t been completely honest with you.” His face had turned back to the road, but his eyes glanced over at me. I twisted my hands in my lap. “I told you I lost a child about five years ago, but the truth is I had an abortion.” He sucked in his breath and his knuckles, gripping the steering wheel, turned white. I hurried to spit the rest out before I lost my nerve.

  “Evidently they botched the procedure, and it scarred my uterus. The doctor told me today I would never be able to get pregnant again.” His head whipped to stare at me, and I shrank back from the anger in his eyes. I had never seen him angry. “I’m sorry,” I repeated and clutched my hands together. His mouth opened, but no sound came out, and then a horn blared.

  I turned as lights filled my vision. “Henry,” I yelled. He yanked the steering wheel to the right, narrowly avoiding the oncoming car, but the car over-corrected and hit the gravel on the side of the road, spinning out of control. “Lookout!” Henry tried to turn the steering wheel, and the squeal of tires braking hit my ears, but it didn’t keep us from slamming into the big oak tree. My head slammed forward hitting the glove compartment and everything went dark.

  The sound of scraping metal woke me. The air was metallic and cold. I tried to turn my head, but it was too stiff, and the pain was too great. Out of the corner of my left eye I could see Henry, blood pouring down his forehead. “Henry,” I called, “Henry, talk to me.”

  “This one’s alive.” A male voice reached my ears and the scraping of metal grew louder. I wanted to plug my ears, but my hands wouldn’t move either. The scraping stopped, and the man spoke again. “We’re working to get you out ma’am. Just hang on. What’s your name?”

  “Sandra,” I replied, “How’s my husband, Henry?”

  “I’m not sure, but we’re working on getting you both out. Try to hold still now.”

  The scraping grew louder again, and then cooler air hit my skin. How long had we been in the car?

  “My name is Brad. We’re going to get you out. Does anything hurt?”

  I closed my eyes to focus. “My head, and I can’t move my arms or legs.”

  “Okay, just hold on.” Hands reached in and cut the seatbelt off. Then more hands pulled me from the car, and I found myself leaning back on something hard. The stars were out.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “It’s two am.” Kind brown eyes filled my vision. “Do you know what time you crashed?”

  “Um,” – I closed my eyes trying to remember – “we left dinner at eight-thirty so between then and nine, I guess.”

  “Okay, that’s good.” Blocks appeared and were placed on either side of my head. Straps closed across my middle and my forehead. The bright flashing lights of the ambulance blinded me. I blinked and tried to look around for Henry. “Hold still.”

  “My husband, Henry. Where is he?”

  The gurney was hoisted up, and the ceiling of the ambulance came into view. The light was bright, but I had to know. The kind brown eyes glanced at the other EMT in the back of the ambulance as the doors slammed, and it started moving. “I think they’re still working on him. We’ll know more when we get to the hospital. Try to relax.”

  I closed my eyes and sent up a small prayer for safety for Henry and for myself. The ride to the hospital felt long and bumpy. The EMT set up an IV, but I barely felt the poke in my arm. The loud siren squealing in my ears deepened the pounding in my head, and the lights were too bright, even behind my closed eyelids.

  Then the ambulance stopped, and the door opened. The gurney was pulled out, and the cool night air chilled me again. I heard the whoosh of the hospital doors, and a bevy of doctors appeared on all sides. The EMT rattled off medical jargon that should have made sense to me – if my head hadn’t been so fuzzy – and then the doctors took over. Hands unstrapped my head, my torso, my feet. My feet had been strapped? One doctor held my head as the others rolled me slightly to remove the wooden board. Then I was on my back again.

  A Hispanic woman with dark curly hair came into view. “I’m Dr. Torrez. We’re going to take you for an x-ray to see what we need to do, okay?”

  “Okay,” I whispered as I still couldn’t move my head to nod. The tiles of the ceiling flashed by as I was wheeled down the hall. How different the view was this way! Though I had walked this hospital a million times, it appeared so odd being wheeled down the familiar hallways. We turned left into a darker room with a large x-ray machine. A team of nurses hefted the gurney onto the x-ray machine.

  “Ma’am?” Dr. Torrez’s face appeared in my vision again. “We’re about to do the x-ray. Is there any chance you’re pregnant?”

  Tears welled up in my eyes again. “No, no chance at all.”

  The woman squeezed my hand and departed. The whir of the machine was the only sound in the room. When it was finished, the team came back in and hefted me back on the rolling gurney. Then I was wheeled back down the hallway and into a room in the emergency room.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I have the x-rays,” Dr. Torrez said.

  “Wait, can you tell me about my husband, Henry?” I asked before the doctor left the room.

  “I’ll check for you.”

  The woman left, and I was alone in silence. Pity crept in and blanketed me. This “easy” procedure five years ago had already taken a relationship, my chance to have children, and now caused an accident. What else was it going to rob from me? I bit my lip as worry for Henry crept in as well. No one seemed to know what had happened to him, but he there had been so much blood on him in the car.

  I could hear the bustle of doctors and nurses outside and a hum of some kind of equipment in the room. Finally, Dr. Torrez re-entered the room.

  “How are you doing, Sandra?” the doctor asked.

  “I’m nervous. I still can’t feel my feet, and no one has told me about Henry. Do you have some news?”

  Dr. Torrez’s eyes shifted quickly to the right, and she took a deep breath. “I have some news about you, but I still haven’t heard anything about Henry.”

  Her mannerisms informed me the news was not good. “What is it?” I asked as a sinking sensation swam down my throat.

  “I’m afraid you’ve injured your T4 and T5 vertebrae.”

  “What does that mean?” Even though I had studied anatomy, the words were not forming a conclusion in my brain. The room began to close in on me.

  “I’m afraid it means that you are paralyzed from the waist down.”

  I heard the words, but they refused to register any meaning. “So, I’ll never walk again?”

  “No, but you have full use of your arms, and you should be able to drive a modified car if you need to.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe if I exercise enough? Or Therapy? Surely, there’s some surgery . . .”

  Dr. Torrez shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sandra; your injury was extensive. I don’t see walking in your future.”

  As the words began to sink in, tears pooled in my eyes again. “I see. Can you check on Henry for me?”

  “I can. Do you want me to call anyone for you?”

  I bit my lip thinking. I didn’t want to tell my parents yet. Was there anyone else? “Yes, can you call my friend Raquel Miller? She works here.”

  “Sure,” Dr. Torrez nodded. “I’ll have the nurses come make you more comfortable. We’ll want to keep you a while for observation and some therapy.” She turned and left the room, leaving me in silence once again.

  I tried vainly to wiggle my toes, but I could feel nothing. Still, I wasn’t entirely sure I trusted the doctor’s opinion. Perhaps a second opinion would yield different results.

  A few minutes later, two nurses entered the room. One was tall and muscular with short brown hair, and the other was shorter and blond.

  “Hi, I’m Jennifer, and this is Alex. We’ll be your nurses tonight till six am. We’re going to unstrap you and get you off this uncomfortable gurney, and then we’ll get y
ou in something more comfortable, okay?”

  I nodded at the taller one speaking. I didn’t trust my voice to say much.

  The taller woman, Jennifer, pulled out a hospital gown and a pair of scissors. She cut my dress, which was already ripped in several areas, and the two of them helped me sit up. Then Alex helped me slip my arms in the faded purple flowered gown, and they tied it in back and laid me back down, pulling the black dress out from underneath me. Jennifer pulled the sheet up over my legs. “I’m going to go get you some water, but is there anything else we can do for you right now?”

  I shook my head.

  “Okay, well here’s the remote if you want to watch some TV.” She handed me a white remote. “We’ll be in to check on you every hour or so. There’s a call button here if you need us before then.” Jennifer pointed to a button in the rail of the bed.

  “Thank you,” I managed, and the two women left the room. I glanced at the ceiling as tears slid down my cheeks. “Is this my punishment, God?” I whispered. “It took this long, but finally I’m being punished. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Though I had been attending church with Henry for years, I had never truly asked for forgiveness because I had thought God would not forgive me and because I could not forgive myself, but now as I lay on the bed, certain I would never walk again, I realized I had nothing to hold on to but hope. So for the first time in five years, I truly gave it over to God, hoping that he would help Henry and myself. A tiny sliver of peace formed in my heart.

  A knock sounded at the door and Dr. Torrez poked her head in. “Hey, Sandra, how are you doing?”

  “I guess as good as I can be. Do you have news about Henry?”

  Dr. Torrez shuffled in, shutting the door behind her. “I do. It took them a little longer to get him out. He fractured his skull and suffered a concussion. He’s in critical condition, but they’re hopeful that he will recover.”

  My heart froze. “What . . . what does that mean?”

  Dr. Torrez stepped closer and took my hand. “It means there’s hope. He’s got a brain bleed in both the front and the back of his skull, so they’re going to be closely monitoring him for a few days. We need his brain to stop bleeding, but as long as it doesn’t get any worse, he should recover.”

  Relief coursed through my veins. A skull fracture was bad, but he was alive, and that was what mattered. “Can I see him?”

  She shook her head. “Unfortunately, you are on bedrest of for the foreseeable future, but I’ll have someone give you updates.”

  Tears pricked the back of my eyes, but I nodded. More than anything, I wanted to see him just to assure myself that he was okay.

  “Can I get someone to come and talk with you until your friend arrives?” Dr. Torrez asked.

  “Um,” I searched my mind. The only one I wanted was Henry, but I did have questions, and I knew of someone at the hospital who could answer them. “Is there a pastor or chaplain on site?”

  Dr. Torrez blinked. “Uh yeah, I think so. Shall I call him for you?”

  “Please.”

  Dr. Torrez nodded and squeezed my hand. “I’ll have him check in soon with you.”

  “Have you called Henry’s family? His parents and his brother?”

  “Yes, I believe they’ve called them. Would you like me to tell them to come see you when they get here?”

  “Yes, I need to talk with them.”

  “Do you want me to call your family?”

  I thought about my mother, how excited she had been the last time we had seen her and told her we were trying to have kids. I pictured my father, who once again had hugged me tight when we left their place, and I didn’t have the heart to tell them right away. Still they would be mad if they found out the news from someone else. “Yes, please call my parents. They’ll have to take a flight in.”

  The doctor nodded and left the room again. The peace I had felt just moments earlier was ebbing away, and I desperately wanted it back. “Lord? Are you there, Lord? I don’t know how to go on without Henry. Please Jesus, help heal him and show me what to do. Help me. Please help me.” The little kernel of peace began to grow again, shrouded as it was in sadness.

  Sometime later, a knock sounded again. A short balding man with gray hair stepped in the room. “Sandra? I’m pastor Clive. The doctor said you wanted to see me?”

  “I did. I need help.” I poured out my story from sordid beginning to sad present. Pastor Clive sat by the bedside holding my hand.

  “My dear, I am so sorry for your loss. Have you talked to your family?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “They aren’t here yet. Neither are Henry’s, but I don’t know what to say to them. I knew he hated abortion after what happened to his sister; I don’t know why I told him in the car.”

  “Some things are not for us to know. Now, let me ask you daughter, you said your husband is religious. Do you know God as your father and savior?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been attending church and reading the Bible, but I never thought God could accept me because of the abortion, you know?”

  He patted my hand. “That is a grave sin, you are right, but God can forgive even that if your heart is in the right place, and you confess that it was a sin.”

  “It was the worst thing I’ve ever done, but I want to move on. I want to know God the way my husband does; how do I do that?”

  He led me in a prayer of confession, and amid my despair, a peace like I’d never felt before trickled down my spine. However, it didn’t erase the sadness and confusion raging through my body.

  “Did God take my ability to walk because I didn’t ask for forgiveness a long time ago?”

  “That isn’t how God works. Unfortunately, this world is imperfect and sinful, and bad things happen. You need to ask God to give you peace and ask him how to use you now. It won’t be easy, but God will be there for you.”

  Pastor Clive shared some verses from the Bible with me, and we prayed again before he left.

  Raquel arrived shortly after the pastor left, dressed to the nines in a form-fitting black dress. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. They told me what happened at the front desk.” She hugged me, and the tears I thought were gone started anew.

  “What am I going to do, Raquel?”

  “I don’t know, but we’ll find a way to work through this together. We’ll pray, and we’ll figure something out.”

  She pulled up the stool beside me and grabbed my hand.

  “Where’s Alyssa?” I asked.

  “She’s still with the babysitter. Greg and I were having a nightcap out. He went home to be with her, and I canceled my shift for tomorrow, so I have a little time with you.”

  “Did they let you see Henry?”

  Her eyes shifted from my face. “I did. Only for a minute. It’s probably good that you can’t see him right now. Both of his eyes are swelled shut from hitting the steering wheel, and he’s pretty out of it.” A tear streamed down her cheek, and she brushed it away.

  I nodded and filled Raquel in on the rest of the story, the part they hospital wouldn’t have known about. Together we cried until there was nothing left. Then we sat in silence until my lids grew heavy.

  Sylvia, David, and Anthony arrived the next day. I had just finished lunch when the knock sounded on my door. As the door opened, I hit the button to raise the bed, so I could sit up to talk to them.

  They entered slowly, and I swallowed. Sending up a quick prayer for the words to say to them, I started with, “I’m so sorry.”

  David and Anthony crossed to either side of the bed, but Sylvia held back.

  “Can you tell us what happened?” David asked quietly. His face was more haggard than I remembered, as if he’d aged ten years in the last two.

  I bit my lip and glanced from one man to the other. “Well, Henry and I were trying to have children. After nearly two years with no positive results, I went to the doctor.” I took a deep breath. “Five years ago, I was with another man, and we got pregna
nt. He wasn’t ready to be a father, and he convinced me to have an abortion.” They all noticeably stiffened, but I continued. “The procedure caused scarring and left me unable to have children. I didn’t mean to tell Henry in the car, but he kept talking about our future kids, and it just spilled out. He took his eyes off the road, and we veered into traffic. Then he overcorrected, and we hit a tree. I’m so sorry.” I had thought I had no more tears left, but after telling the story again, they made their way down my cheeks like soldiers in formation.

  “It’s my fault,” Sylvia moaned behind us as she sank to the floor. “It’s all my fault. If I had never pushed Camilla to have an abortion, she wouldn’t have died, and Henry wouldn’t have left and had the reaction he did. I didn’t want the shame of a pregnant daughter who was not married, and I told Camilla the abortion was empowering as a woman, but I was wrong. It’s horrible.” David went to his wife and put an arm around her.

  “Have you seen Henry yet? How is he?”

  “He’s still in the ICU,” Anthony said. “The brain bleed is pretty bad, and he’s had some disorientation. They’re taking him in for another CT.”

  I nodded, wishing the news were better, but knowing I had to share what was on my heart before I lost my courage. “I don’t know if you know God like Henry does, but I just truly found him yesterday. Can I pray for all of us?”

  The family nodded, and I led a prayer, feeling closer to his family than I had in the last two years. They stayed a little longer to chat and then left to check back on Henry. The doctors had said one of them should stay in the room at all times to watch for signs of seizure.

  My parents arrived later that afternoon. My mother entered the room, frazzled, an unusual look for her. She rushed to my side and enveloped me in a hug. My father hung back at the door. Thankfully Raquel had filled them in on the story when she picked them up at the airport, so I didn’t have to go over it again. I returned my mother’s hug and then motioned for my father to come closer. As he stepped to the bed, I realized he was struggling to contain his emotions. His red and puffy eyes betrayed the fact that he had recently been crying.