His Final Mission

**This is a story about a traumatic birth. Based on a true story. Names have been changed.

Claire stretches, her blond hair cascading down her shoulders. She locked her work computer before standing. She wore a maternity t-shirt and shorts. At 35 weeks, her belly protruded outward. She wasn’t looking forward to this appointment. Her last pregnancy resulted in being admitted at 35 weeks and delivering early via c-section. That child was thriving now but had spent 21 days in the NICU. Dr. Edwards, her physician, assured her that the likelihood of another premature delivery was minimal. She filled her lungs with air and breathed out, throwing her hair into a messy bun before she left

“I should be back in about an hour,” Claire says to her co-workers.

“Sounds great! Good luck and no rush back,” her boss responded.

They had just finished the busy season and now it was summer, something they looked forward to every year because it meant Fridays off. Claire wished she had scheduled her appointment for her day off. Elliot and Claire were about to buy a house an hour north and the closing was on Friday. The time was unknown when she scheduled all her appointments, hence the appointment on a workday. She considered switching to a morning appointment when the closing was scheduled for 1pm but whenever she thought about it something told her not to. She left everything as it was.

Claire stepped outside and the stifling summer heat immediately made her sweat. It felt like a swamp. “Ugh, it’s hot,” Claire said to herself as she walked to her car. She could hear the chirp of a cardinal nearby.

“I love your song, Mr Cardinal, but I’m 35 weeks pregnant and it’s too hot for me to stay and listen.” She hopped in her car and blasted the air conditioner as soon as she could. Once I get past this appointment, then I can relax, thought Claire. The Light by Sara Bareilles played on the radio. The lyrics spoke to her and made her feel like everything would be ok.

Horizon Clinic was ten minutes from the office. Claire parked and got out. She felt a cool breeze on her face as she walked in. Peace settled upon Claire for the second time that day, the song in the car being the first. The automatic sliding doors opened, and she walked inside.

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As the appointment ended, Dr Edwards walked Claire to the ultrasound room. The dark room was small; a lamp sat in the corner. It flickered a few times as they entered before staying on. He squeezed the gel onto her belly and placed the wand in search of the baby and its heartbeat. The familiar “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” filled her ears with relief. She loved being able to get a glimpse of the baby, too. Oh, sweet one. I can’t wait to meet you, but stay in there a while longer, okay? She thought.

“Hmm, the fluid looks a little low. We are going to go back to the room and do a non-stress test. You remember those from last time, right?” He smiled and Claire nodded.

“Let’s head back to the room and get you set up for that, but the baby is measuring right on track, which is good.” Dr Edwards had a calm demeanor which always relaxed Claire.

June, the nurse, attached two sensors to Claire's belly. One measured for contractions and one measured the baby’s heartbeat. Claire knew that the baby’s heart rate had to increase a certain number of times in a 30-minute window, and she really hoped the baby passed. The whoosh of the heart rate kept her grounded and she hoped to be out of here soon. She scrolled through her phone and sent texts to Elliot to pass the time.

June came back after about 20 minutes and scanned the paper read out. “Hmmmm, baby must be sleepy today. I am going to get some juice. Would you like orange or apple?”

“Orange juice sounds good.”

“I’ll bring you some bite-size cookies too. I know orange juice and cookies are a weird combo, but we've gotta wake baby up somehow.” June exits to get the snacks. Claire leaned back and took a deep breath; her body tingled. Little one, please wake up. Not again. Please, not again. I am not having a baby today. I am not.

June came back with the orange juice and cookies, and Claire scarfed them down. She hoped it would do the trick and get the baby moving. By now, Claire’s anxiety increased tenfold. She closed her eyes and repeated the phrase I am not having a baby today.

June returned and scanned the readout. “Hmmm, still sleeping. Let’s try the buzzer next.” The buzzer should startle the baby, kind of like a jump scare at the movies. June placed it on Claire's belly. Buzzzzz, buzzzz, buzzzz and then they waited. Nothing. June tried again and then tried pushing on Claire's belly, but nothing worked.

Dr Edwards entered after knocking on the door. “How’s it going in here?”

“We’ve tried all the usual stuff, we’ve had no increases in the heart rate and she’s been hooked up for 55 minutes. Baby is non-reactive at the moment,” June shared with Dr Edwards.

Dr Edwards scanned the readout, looked at Claire and smiled. “We are going to admit you for monitoring. Sometimes when we give fluids, it wakes the baby up. There’s a comprehensive ultrasound we can do and we’ll get more information about how things are.” Claire tried to read his face, scanning for signs of worry or concern, but his blue eyes sparkled. “Don’t worry just yet, Claire,” he said.

June pushed a wheelchair into the room, and Claire got into it. As they wheeled Claire to the hospital, she called Elliot. “Hey, the baby failed the non-stress test and I’m being admitted. They want to give me fluids and a better ultrasound,” she relayed the information to Elliot.

“Okay, do you need anything? Do you want me to come?”

“Yeah, can you bring me my phone charger?”

“Sure thing. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Claire responded.

They took the elevator to the third floor and entered room 333. They started an IV and reattached the belts to help monitor the baby. She was barely holding it together; worried that another premature delivery was possible. Would this baby need to be airlifted to a NICU like her last?Was she going to be separated from her baby? Is her body failing her again? She pushed the thoughts out of her mind and sent a quick text to her boss, letting her know about the delay. Claire glanced at the clock and noticed it was 11:11 and she made a wish. Please let this baby be okay. Please let it keep cooking a little longer.

Elliot walked in with her phone charger, a decaf coffee for her and an iced coffee for himself. Today he wore jeans and a t-shirt. She found herself grateful he was working from home today. The office was about an hour and twenty minutes away, hence the reason they were moving to a new house soon, to be closer. He kissed Claire on the forehead and handed her the coffee.

“How are you doing? Any updates?” He said with a smile.

“Eh, okay. They will be here in about an hour to do the ultrasound. Elliot, I don’t want to have this baby today.”

“Let’s not put worry there just yet, ok? Where are they doing the ultrasound?”

“I’m not sure. I think they do it right in here in the room.” Claire closed her eyes.

“Don’t stress too much. We’ll know more soon.” Elliot always calmed Claire's nerves when she felt overwhelmed or stressed. It’s one thing she loved most about him. She felt chilled, and goosebumps appeared. It felt like the hair on her arms was standing straight up. She shivered.

“It’s close to 100 degrees outside! Why am I cold?”

“You’re probably just nervous, Claire. Take a deep breath. You got this,” Elliot was her rock. He sat by her bed and pulled out cards to play while they waited.

A nurse with dark hair pulled into a high ponytail walked into the room with a little cart that held the ultrasound machine. She smiled at Claire, “I’m Audrey and I’m here to do your ultrasound. It will take about 30 minutes. During the scan, we look at a lot of different things. Think of it like a report card for the baby. We look to make sure the baby is practicing breathing, it’s chest muscles should go up and down. Movement, muscle tone, and fluid. We’ll use the Doppler so we can check blood flow from the placenta too. We give a score out of eight. That scoring lets us know what next steps might be. Do you have questions?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Claire glances at Elliot, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know if I need to tell you or not, but we don’t want to know the sex.”

“I’ll keep it a secret,” Audrey smiled as she began the ultrasound, moving the wand over Claire’s belly. Claire tried to read her face, but it was unreadable. Audrey remained focused with no hint of emotion on her face. Dr Edwards walked into the room to observe the rest of the ultrasound. Claire took a glance at him and his face told a different story. Gone was his calm demeanor, replaced with a look of sheer terror, which scared Claire. It had been hours since her appointment started, and she felt like the dominoes kept falling. Audrey finished the ultrasound and packed things. She gave a knowing glance to Dr Edwards before exiting the room.

“I would like to consult with another doctor, but I think you’re having a baby today.” Dr Elliot said somberly. He exited the room, leaving Elliot and Claire alone.

“Are you doing okay?” Elliot sits next to Claire on the bed and wraps his arms around her. She sobbed on his shoulder.

“Elliot, I don’t want to have a baby today. I don’t want to. I can’t do a hospital stay again. It was so hard last time and what if the baby needs a NICU? That means another transfer where I won’t be with my baby. Why did my body fail me again?” Elliot held her while he sobbed; wishing there was something he could do, but even he knew the baby was probably coming today.

Elliot and Claire’s first child, Andrew, had been growth-restricted and because of his size, needed to be airlifted to a hospital with a NICU. Claire and Elliot didn’t see him for 3 days. Claire had no choice; she had to stay in the hospital after her C-section. Andrew was perfectly fine now, but neither wanted to go through it again.

Dr Edwards returned with a mournful expression on his face. “I am so sorry, Claire and Elliot. I know you didn’t want this, but the baby is coming today. Your C-section is in 30 minutes. A nurse will come in shortly to prep you,” and he rushed out of the room to reschedule his afternoon before her C-section. Patients would be upset, but Claire and her baby took priority.

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Claire shivered as she sat in the operating room as the CRNA prepared to give her the spinal tap. The fluorescent lights were blinking again and Claire took a deep breath. She repeated to herself, Soon you will know if it's a boy or a girl. Soon you will meet him or her.

The C-section was exactly like her last one. She could feel pulling and tugging, but nothing hurt. Whispers about the unfolding events filled the air, while Elliot’s hand remained a constant in hers. She took a deep breath and hoped it’d end soon. It seemed like no time passed before she heard the wails of crying, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“IT’S A BOY! Time: 3:02 on July 15th.” Dr Elliot shouted and held the newest member of the family up for Claire and Elliot to see. Special care nursery staff immediately whisked him away for an assessment. Elliot stayed with Claire despite her pleading. She couldn’t stop crying; he knew he needed to support her.

Hours later, Clare looked down at her baby boy and grinned. The heart monitor beeped His body attached to cords, but he's doing just fine; no transfer this time. They did this once before; they can do it again.

“You sure gave us a scare, Michael. I’m sure it’s the first of many. Your weight is almost a full pound more than your big brother’s. You’ll be out of here in no time.” She glanced at the clock and this time it read 11:11pm. Claire closed her eyes and thought Thank you.

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Sept 1, 1967

He stood next to a grave, unsure of how he got there. The last thing he remembered was looking down at his unit. They were screaming as they carried his body away, blood coming from his head. Stationed in Vietnam, he experienced the harsh realities of war firsthand. Now he was here. But he couldn’t dead could he? He looked at the grave and realized he really was gone.

Thomas Daniel Murphy

Born: July 15, 1948

Died: August 23, 1967

US Marine Corps

Vietnam

A powerful source spoke to him. “There is something important you must do, but you will wait a long time. Your sister Lucy is going to have a daughter and someday your niece will need your help to bring her second son into this world. If your great-nephew survives, he’s going to change the world. Do you think you can do this?”

Thomas thought for a long moment. Somehow he knew this mission meant protecting his little sister first, then her daughter until her son was born. He couldn’t intervene; only guide, but he knew it was important and worth sticking around for.

“Aye,” he said.

Authors Note:

This is the story of how my second child came into this world. I wrote this story as best I could, but this child is almost 11, and my memory isn’t what it used to be. It wasn’t until recently that I looked at his medical file and saw how serious things were. I suspected, but never wanted to know until recently. I am forever grateful he’s here today. I do not remember being told the results of the ultrasound that day, which is why I left it out of the story. He scored 2 out of 8. My fluid was down to less than 5%. He spent 36 days in the special-care nursery. He was born with a true knot in his umbilical cord.

It wasn’t until later that I learned he shared a birthday with my uncle, killed in action during the Vietnam War. I like to believe he played a role in making sure my son made it here. The gut instinct to keep my appointment and not switch it is true. Every appointment I scheduled during that summer was on a Friday, except for that one. The song in the car, the cool breeze, electricity glitches, the cardinal and repeating numbers are things I added to the story to show my uncle’s presence. I’d like to believe he made his presence known that day in simple and odd ways that I missed entirely. If you are wondering if they share in personality traits; the answer to that is yes. My son is a class clown, like his great-uncle. It makes me chuckle that my uncle died in 1967 and that 67 years stand between him and my son. I told you he was a jokester; are you doing the 67 motion with your hands too?