The Day Started Out Like Any Other

On March 8, 2017 I went to work like I always had. It was a very typical day until I was nearing the end of my workday. I was setting up for the last patient of the day, when suddenly I realized something was terribly wrong. Confused, and having no pain or symptoms, I rushed to the bathroom and confirmed that I was losing massive amounts of blood—fast. I calmed myself, clocked out, and drove to the hospital.

The staff at the hospital saw how much blood I was losing and admitted me right away. One of the first forms I remember signing was consent for a blood transfusion. I explained to the doctor that although I was losing large amounts of blood, I felt completely normal. No pain, light headedness, etc. The doctor took some blood samples and left the room. I called my husband and calmly explained where I was. My husband was in the middle of a field at the time. By the time my husband got to me, the doctor was ready with my labs. “Kate it appears you’re having a miscarriage” he said gently with a pained expression. I knew he was talking to me, but I was so shocked, it felt like he was talking about someone else. “I know that’s tough news to deliver. Thank you”, I said. Then I turned to my husband, put my hand over my eyes, and felt the warm tears stream into my hair. My doctor ordered an ultrasound. I was wheeled up a floor where their equipment was. As I tried to get on the bed for the ultrasound, I ultimately ended up passing out from loss of blood. When they were finally able to get the images they needed, the doctor working the night shift explained to me that I was pregnant with twins. Their heart rate was half of where it needed to be, and I was more than likely going to miscarry both. I listened to the doctor and said “Let me be clear. If there’s a heartbeat, any rate at all, you don’t touch me.” The doctor said “I understand the importance of life, and I would never do that.”

I spent the night in the hospital. As I clutched my Scapular, a nurse asked if I would like the Deacon, who was visiting, to come and pray with me. In my small room, the Deacon and the nurse prayed with me. I ended up needing a D&C when five days later, there were no heartbeats in me anymore.

Reflecting on that experience, I’m reminded how many times I saw God in such tragedy. I had no pain through it all, and the doctor who happened to be on call for the night shift is a Christian man who prayed with me, and took me as a patient when I got pregnant two years later (when at that time, he was no longer accepting new patients). Luz was the nurse who saw my Scapular and prayed that night with the Deacon and me. I ran into her at Mass about a month later and told her that her name fits her well. She was a light in a dark time, and I was so grateful to her. A year after the miscarriage I was at Mass in Auburn on Mother’s Day. The Priest asked all mothers to stand for a special blessing. I stayed seated at first, but then realized that although I lost the twins, I will always be their mother. They are part of our family story, and they will always be a part of us

My husband and I struggled with infertility for two years following the miscarriage. My faith was tested. I would get angry, sad, and more than ever, I would ask why. On the morning of February 18, 2019, I was driving to work and I said aloud “God I’m putting this in your hands.” I fasted that day, and in the early evening I took a pregnancy test (as I did every so often), expecting it to be negative like all the others. I still get the feeling of joyous crying when I think back to my reaction to the positive test. God has blessed us with a beautiful son. As I watch my son grow, I often wonder what the twins would have been like. I trust that one day I will know.