I don’t tend to get too personal on here. I mostly talk about my written work and things that directly relate to it. The way I figure it, why would anyone come to a writing blog and not expect to read about writing?
But sometimes, I have to write about something else. And today, it happens to be personal.
A little over six months ago, I was faced with the most trying time of my life thus far. On October 27, 2009, I took my wife to the hospital because she had been diagnosed with a condition known as pre-eclampsia, along with HELLP Syndrome. As we would find out in the hours that followed, we were going to become parents much sooner than we had anticipated. But, as unbelievable and chaotic as this was, that is not what I am referring to.
I had a moment of realization as the situation was unfolding. It was suddenly a very real possibility that my wife, the girl I had loved for three years . . . could die that very day, along with the unborn baby boy that we had been anticipating.
She didn’t see my moment happen. I saved it for a brief moment that afternoon when I was alone. But I cried. I cried, and I prayed. I prayed for God to keep her safe. I prayed that she would come out of this situation alive. After those few minutes, I wiped away the tears and went back to her room, trying to be the strong husband and father that everyone needed me to be.
I think I did okay.
But I still have flashbacks to that moment. I had never been so desperate for anything in my life. I had never prayed so hard. As the numbers on the machine went back and forth between dangerous and still-dangerous-but-not-as-dangerous-as-before, I kept up the reassurance. “Everything is going to be okay,” I said repeatedly. I’m not entirely sure who I was talking to — her or me.
That moment inspired a song I have written and am still currently recording. I can say with certainty that it is the best song I have ever written — so much so that I would be content to never write another.
It still scares me how close I came to being a widower (*thank you for the correction, love). I will never forget that. Sometimes, it rushes over me and takes my breath away, forcing me to pause for a moment, close my eyes and be thankful that all of us were pulled out of that horrible situation.
Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was fate. But we’re all still here, and we’re going to make the most of it.