In November of last year I was attacked at the Oregon State football game at Stanford University. I left with a concussion, bruises to my head & face, and our child that would be scarred for the rest of his life. He had just witnessed someone who should have been like family to him, physically and verbally assault and strangle his step-mother. I laid on the ground without defending myself, while my son stood next to me screaming, crying and begging for the attacker to get off. Through all of it, the only person I was concerned with was our son, what he just witnessed and how it was going to affect him for the rest of his life. I tried to reassure him that I was fine, that everything was going to be okay, but as you can imagine, there aren’t very many happy endings in a story like this.
I couldn’t bring myself to seek medical attention until we returned to Oregon, afraid to leave my family after all that we had been through that evening. The turning point was when Tucker told us at the dinner table how frightened he was when he saw the attackers’ hands around my throat, which he demonstrated with his own hands. Then he told us that his own head almost hit the bleachers when the attacker grabbed him to pull him with her. That was more than enough. When I made it to the doctor’s office I was a wreck, physically and emotionally. I was forced to take time off of work while I recovered from a concussion, one that I should have been able to diagnose myself.
Over the next week things started to look better, everything mellowed down, and as a family we grew closer together through the awful event. The bruises and scratches become less visible and were getting easier to hide behind my hair. We were able to talk to other family, friends, and a psychologist to help us through the situation. Life was getting back to normal.
When I realized I had missed my period, we all found new happiness that we were expecting our first child together, and Tucker was going to be a big brother. The focus had changed from the ‘event’ and we were back to planning our lives together and spending the holidays with family. All of our family was excited to share in the joy with us, it was great to take our minds off of the 'event'. Tucker loved announcing to friends & family that “Holly’s pregnant!” as they would walk in the door. Or my favorite, “Are you sure it is okay for you to drive while your pregnant!? I am going to ask Dad.”
Our first prenatal exam, Tony and I were incredibly excited to go, it was the longest six weeks for the appointment to come! The nurse talked to us about the morning sickness, what to expect at each visit, and explained how each visit would work. Then the doctor came in for an ultrasound. We both eagerly looked at the screen, but were confused when the embryo was much smaller than what we had expected to see. The nurse practioner reconfirmed our last menstrual cycle and the pregnancy tests we had taken earlier at the hospital. We were devastated to hear the baby had stopped growing at five weeks. Only days after the attack. The rest of the visit and days were a blur and soaked up with comfort foods.
When I got home, Tucker embraced me with a hug, and told me he was really sorry to hear about the baby. He offered me his appointment with his psychologist because I needed it more than he did. He melted my heart. Our son has the most generous, loving, & kind heart.
During the next three weeks, I went through two doses of pills that induced uterine cramping and bleeding to help empty the uterus and move the miscarriage out. Both doses of the pills had induced severe cramping but the bleeding never followed. After two weeks of knowing that we had miscarried, my body was still producing pregnancy symptoms. Our doctor then performed a D & C procedure to empty the uterus. Tony spent these weeks by my side, unsure of what to do or say, but incredibly supportive and loving. I would well up with tears explaining the miscarriage to friends and family or for no reason at all. My closest friends sent cards, flowers and got me a massage. We have unbelievable friends and family. We started to find new hope talking to other friends and family that had also gone through miscarriages and their ability to get pregnant again. Our doctor had told us that we could try again in a month or two, and after the third week of being sad and gloomy, I finally got my energy back, my skin cleared up, and I was getting back to my old self. I was starting to feel great again.
Through all of this, Tony, Tucker & I grew stronger as a family. Tucker was really excited that we would be able to try again and hoped for a Christmas baby.
Even though both of these events were extremely unfortunate and hard on our family, both Tony & I knew that we would be able to make it through anything in our marriage after this. My heart goes out to our son, whose strength through all of this has been amazing. He has memories from the football game that he will never be able to erase. It’s a parent’s worst nightmare, being unable to protect and shelter your child from the things of the world that hurt them.
Like I said before, there aren’t very many happy endings to a story like this.
Except that we move forward.
Holly, what a moving post. I can tell you that the tough patches make the good ones that much sweeter, and the last year of my life has certainly shown me that it is impossible to truly appreciate the blessings of life until you have seen and felt the alternative.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations again, I cannot tell you how happy I am for you and your family. I don't even know Tucker, but he is going to be the Best Big Brother in the world.