At times we think of silence being comforting. You've had a long day, traffic is hectic, or everything goes wrong at work. What is the one thing that we all look forward to when we have those days?? Peace. Relaxation. Silence. On May 17, 2011 I experienced a horrific situation in which the phrase, "The silence was deafening", does exist. I started the work/school day as I always do, hitting snooze repeatedly, getting dressed, preparing my kiddish bowl of cereal and kissing Krissi saying, "See ya later " (My Grandpa Hollis didn't believe in good-byes). I started up the powerful Honda Civic, backed out of the driveway knowing of her appointment, but never expecting what was to come.
As I drove along the beloved 465 and listening to Mike and Mike on ESPN Radio, I had in the back of my head an optimistic mindset of what Krissi would hear from the doctor. She had had spotting in the past and everything always turned out okay. I never try to think the worst or look worried because I always want to be strong for Krissi and be positive. Nearing the school I had my morning prayer and hoped that everything would be okay. There was only a week and a half left of school and on this particular day I was meeting with my second grade team to discuss what we were going to do next year differently. With our laptops ready and my elephant mug of coffee, we began planning.
I sat with my second grade team and felt my phone vibrate. I pulled my phone out and saw Krissi Colleen Spangler on the caller ID. Stepping away from the table I asked if everything was okay and what she had found out. Her words in reply struck the core of me. I informed my team that Krissi was admitted to the hospital and jogged down to the office to let my principal know that I needed to leave immediately. He wasn't in his office, but our secretary told me that she'd let him know and to leave. I didn't know what to think or do. I jogged back to the room where my team was waiting and they knew I was in a frenzy. Letha told me to just go and they'd take care of the rest. I grabbed my elephant mug of coffee and hurried as fast as I could to be with Krissi and the fragile life of our unborn son Gabriel.
Nearing the hospital I begged God to be with them until I got there and to have every stoplight be green. This time walking into the hospital had a completely different feel. Just a few weeks prior we were rejoicing the news that we were having a boy, but this time I wasn't sure what news we'd hear. People blurred by and all the noise seemed distant as I headed towards the elevator. Finally reaching the third floor, I went straight to the desk where Lyn asked if I needed help. I told her, "My wife has been admitted and I'm her husband". She must've seen the panic and fear in my eyes. I gave her our last name and she led me straight back to the room where the silence would be so evident it could deafen and quiet any concert crowd.
I opened the door to Triage Room 3 to see Krissi lying on the bed with a very concerned look on her face. I instantly walked to her bedside and gave her a kiss holding her hand. I knelt to one knee bringing her hand to my forehead. She then told me what the doctor had said and they were going to have an ultra sound done to see if there was any amniotic fluid left. I wasn't exactly sure of the dangers, but I knew Krissi knew so I had to do my best to keep it together and be strong for her. Mr. and Mrs. MacIntyre showed up, then shortly after, Bubba. Krissi updated her parents and Bubba while I was still on one knee holding her hand. My parents came a few minutes later to fill the small room to capacity until eventually the doctor and ultra sound technician came in. Just when I thought there couldn't be any more room, a suffocating choke filled the room as the ultra sound began to show no amniotic fluid and a dropping heart rate. We looked earnestly for hope as the doppler went over Krissi's stomach, but none was found. What hope we had was dashed when the doctor said she was sorry. The silence that I've been speaking of hit like two colliding semis at full speed. I looked at Krissi and the pain filled her eyes with overwhelming force. When she put the pillow over her face I knew it was bad. I continued to look around the room for some kind of comfort. All around me I saw heads hung low and when my eyes traveled around the room aimlessly for strength, it was no where to be found. The final blow to my search was when I looked to my long time friend/little brother, now brother-in-law. For years growing up Bubba and I played sports together, hung out and "officially" became family when I married Krissi. Just as years before while sharing the playing field or court I could count on him to bail me out of a situation. As I looked to him, as I have had many times before, his head too was down. Every source of extra strength that I've always had to rely on was dwindled down to nothing. They all felt the same as I. Completely beaten.
Pain, sorrow, anger, resentment towards God, fear and sadness all set in at once. Dr. Byrne, the neonatologist then entered the somber atmosphere filled room. She further explained to us the liklihood of Krissi delivering soon and with her being 22 weeks Gabriel wouldn't be viable, therefore no resuscitation would be done because his lungs wouldn't be mature enough. More and more hope ripped from our already broken hearts and trampled spirits. The doctors and ultra sound technician left the room. My mom, Mr. and Mrs. MacIntyre came to console Krissi. My adrenaline started kicking in and my heart rate and breathing became rapid. I left the room with clenched fists and tears in my eyes enraged. My son, whom I've never gotten to hold needed protected, needed his father, but I couldn't protect him from this. The only one who could was God, but where was God in all this? Why wasn't God protecting him right now? My dad came out to be with me along with Bubba and they didn't know what to say. My dad, who I could always come to for answers or advice, for the first time, had no words of wisdom or spirit to his eyes. Just pain. I looked to Bubba and all he could say was he was sorry.
We all three waited for the elevator that might as well take us to Hell because that's what I was experiencing. Getting to the main floor we exited and I sat down on a bench rocking and crying on the verge of passing out from breathing so fast. Someone from a Help Desk ask if we needed help and I informed her that I just found out that I might be losing my son. She directed us to the Chapel if we wanted to go there. Being a Christian it was the one place that I thought for sure I'd find answers, comfort and hopefully God who seemed so distant in all of this. We sat again in silence while I asked my dad to pray. So many times in facing difficulties I could count on my dad to pray and feel a comfort with the words that the Holy Spirit would bless him with. I knew God was there, I knew he would never leave us nor forsake us, but why didn't I believe it now? My heart was in a million pieces and the only way to put it back together was to have Gabriel hold my finger. My dad finished the prayer and I asked to be alone. I sat there in absolute confusion and knelt in front of the chair to pray. I admitted to God that I was mad at him, but I knew he was the only one that would get Krissi, Gabriel and I through this. My dad came in to do what a father should do. Be there for his son. I needed to be there for Krissi and my son so the three of us went back so I could be with Krissi.
They moved her to a different room where we'd end up reliving the nightmare day in, day out, for the next month. The rest of Krissi's family with the exception of Jessi was there. Jessi lives in Florida, but was on the verge of hopping the next flight to be with her sister. My brother Todd was there now and just like when we were kids was there to do his best to look out for me. No one knew what to say. I asked everyone in the room if Krissi and I could have some time alone. The two of us laid in the bed, holding one another, crying as we had our hands upon Krissi's stomach doing our best to touch our son who was fighting for his life. The nightmare was real and there was no waking up from it.
The hours passed and the same mood was in the air. Krissi was ordered to bed rest until delivery so until then the large private room was going to be home. We needed to be as comfortable as possible so I needed to get some things from the house. Krissi didn't want me to drive because I was an emotional wreck so Mr. MacIntyre was gracious enough to drive me to the house. Before we left the parking lot I asked Mr. MacIntyre if we could have prayer. The words that he said, were what we lived by the rest of our endeavor. He said in the prayer for God to help us not to ask why, but how? How to make the next step, and the step after that and to focus on one another. Until that prayer all we could do was ask why, but after that, Krissi and I changed our focus. As with my dad, Mr. MacIntyre didn't know what to say or what he could do to make the situation better. As we drove to the house with tears in both of our eyes, I told him that no matter what was going to happen, I wasn't going to leave Krissi. You hear of stories of spouses leaving one another during tramatic events and I wanted to assure him I wasn't going to do that. I felt it was important, him being Krissi's father, to assure him I wasn't going to do that. Everyone who knows Mr. and Mrs. MacIntyre are absolutely devoted to loving and supporting their children. As the husband to Krissi, I had to let him know I wasn't going anywhere.
We arrived to the house. A dredful feeling came over me of having to walk into the house knowing that a particular room, Gabriel's room, could possibly seem more like an eternal reminder of an unborn son that never would fill the house with the laughs, giggles and crys that Krissi and I envisioned. Mr. MacIntyre and I entered the house and I avoided looking into his room that Krissi and I had worked so hard preparing for his arrival home. I went about getting clothes for Krissi and I while Mr. MacIntyre hung out in the kitchen sipping a cool, chilled Coke we had in the fridge. He asked if I wanted some Pizza Hut warmed up, but I told him I wasn't hungry (those of you that know me, know there's something REALLY wrong if I'm not eating). He told me I needed to eat to keep my strength up so I ate some pizza, but it was a struggle because for the first time food had no taste, no smell. Everything seemed bland to what I considered a rich and fulfilling life up until that point.
The time had come. It was time to walk into his room so I could get some items out of his bathroom. Walking through the doorway into his room, the first thing you see is his crib. Instantly a flood of thoughts entered my mind. Are we ever going to be able to put him in his crib? Am I jinxing his chances by coming in here? Will this room feel more like a tomb if he doesn't make it? All of these thoughts were filling my mind. I quickly grabbed the items, but above his crib is a picture frame of his ultra sound pictures, Krissi and I, and of our families. These pictures represented all of the people that love Gabriel more than anyone. People that are praying for him and hoping for the best. How could I have these negative thoughts? I stopped and put my hand on his crib and looking at his ultra sound picture teared up. I stood there with tears in my eyes and touching the crib began to have a quick silent prayer. After my prayer I went back out to meet Mr. MacIntyre in the kitchen. It was time to go back to the hospital which we'd call home for the next four months.
Arriving back to the hospital, we made our way up to the room and opened the door to see family and friends in the room. By this time there wasn't the crying as before, but you could tell no one really knew what to say. My parents called Pastor Ballard who did Krissi and I's wedding ceremony and informed him of the situation. He eventually showed up and with the three of us holding hands prayed for God to begin to show us the way and comfort us. The lonliness that we had felt seemed to be lifted as the Holy Spirit cloaked us with a peace that only He could provide. This was a peace that we would continue to pray for daily and nightly for the rest of our stay.
The gears of the clock slowly passed the time. From time to time the horrific reality would creep into my head and I would begin to cry. Krissi would begin to cry as well and we'd console one another by holding each other in the bed. It just never seemed like the pain and hurt would ever cease. Night had finally come. If we fell asleep and woke up the next morning, would this nightmare be over? Krissi suggested I take a shower because maybe that would help ease the tension and stress of the day. Normally when I'm sick or down, a good shower usually helps. I stood in the shower, praying yet again for the pain and hurt to go away. I felt as though every drop of water hitting my broken body represented every tear that I had shed that day. I would shed many more tears and my already broken heart, would only break into many more pieces as the weeks would go by.
I walked back out into the room and my mom and Mrs. MacIntyre were there planning to spend the night in the room with Krissi and I. Mrs. MacIntyre couldn't stand to be away and my Ma hated to see her baby boy in pain. Their motherly instincts were in overdrive. As the evening went on, Krissi and I said our good byes to the rest of the family and the four of us, Mrs. MacIntyre, my Ma, Krissi and I prepared to attempt to get some rest. Not wanting to be even a foot away from Krissi I laid there in the hospital bed holding her in my arms. Telling her I loved her and Gabriel, the three of us said a prayer before eventually falling asleep out of the sheer exhaustion from the day. God be with us, but more so with Gabriel.
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