Monday, November 22, 2010

A Life Not Lived


            As the sun rose up on a beautiful September morning, leaves tumbled around me as I walked outside.  I was pregnant and had been for almost nine months now, time was escaping me.  George Shoeneck, my husband, is working three jobs just to provide for our family.  Day in and day out all I can seem to think about is when I will hold my baby in my arms.  This is my dream that I've been waiting for my whole life, and I was never gonna let it go.
   

Then suddenly one night at eleven o'clock on September 24, 1929 I yelled at my husband and said “Hey! Hurry quick and go and find our doctor!”

    “Yes of course darling”, he spoke as he rushed out the door.

     As I waited longing for him to return, the pain going through my body is something nobody can describe. It radiated through my body as I lay in my room with my bed placed perfectly centered in the room.   Suddenly an hour later at the stroke of midnight George returns alone, without our doctor.  A million thoughts ran through my mind, was I going to make it out of this unharmed? Will my baby be okay? I tried to block out the pain with every blink of my over worked eyes, but the pain was too much. Every contraction came out of nowhere as if I didn't see them coming.  Now they were arriving every five minutes or so and I knew the end was near, I could feel it.

    George angrily spoke “Should I go out for the doctor one last time?”

    Quickly I agreed, “Yes,” speaking with pain in my voice.
   

Sweat dripped down my face as one o'clock chimed on the clock, time was flying by.   A new day had dawned and that day was September 25, 1929.  This day I would soon come to find out to be one of the best days of my twenty-eight years of life, so I thought.

    He returned this last time with a very skinny blond lady about the age of fifty-five, I could smell the scent of smoke most likely from a cigar.   I felt a surge or relief run throughout my body and I began to feel sick, the pain was causing me to feel nauseous.  Now it was nearing three o'clock and the contractions became more and more intense with every tick of the clock.  They were now coming fast at bout four minutes apart to be exact.  In my mind there was still time for a doctor to arrive, but apparently I could be wrong. The blond, Glenda, encouraged me to rest, but who can rest with all the pain that my fragile body was enduring.

“I’m going to take a quick nap,” stated Glenda.

I turned toward her, “Don’t worry about me,” I spoke with very little tone in my voice.

The time rolled around and the pain began to reach its climax.  My stomach felt like it had been stepped on by a two ton elephant who was playing hop scotch.  Finally the contractions were a minute apart and it was time for my baby to arrive.  So at seven a.m. on September 25, 1929 my beautiful baby girl was born.  My hopes and dreams finally adding up, until I noticed that my baby never let out a cry.  I glanced over to where Glenda was holding her and she looked as blue as a blueberry, this was not normal and I panicked.  George rushed away from me to see if there was any sign of something that could be blocking her airways, but there was nothing, she was still born. George covered his mouth and tears began to trickle down his cheeks.  As Glenda realized what had just occurred she rushed into town and got the doctor.  While she was away I lifted my head and spoke to the heavens, “Why did my newborn baby have to die and I got to live?”

    I sat there and began to cry as I held my beautiful dead baby girl in my arms.  She appeared so gentle and weak, as I moved her body closer to mine.  The doctor finally arrived and examined me and told me that everything was going to be okay, when I knew it wasn't.  Then he ran over and looked at my baby, and placed a small white sheet over her tiny body.  Hours passed and I began to feel faint, “why do the good always die young?”, I asked.  This ran through my mind for the rest of that afternoon.  As the sun went down the sunset was gorgeous, prettier than usual with shades of brilliant blue and pink and orange surrounding the horizon. It seemed  that was my baby's way of speaking to me from heaven.

    When I think of life I always picture getting married, having a few kids, raising them, seeing them get married, and on a more depressing note burying my parents as they passed away.  Never did I imagine in my future that me, Rebbecca Shoeneck would have to bury her own child, it wasn't supposed to turn out this way.  That very next day the local priest came out to the graveyard and blessed us while we dug a hole for our daughter to be buried in.  On her tombstone we put her name Isabelle Marie Shoeneck in enormous letters.  Then a quote that my husband and I will never forget, "I felt you but never met you, held you but never knew you, but all that matters is I love you."   

    “What do we do now?”, I asked my husband.
   
    “Let’s just enjoy everyday without weeping and becoming depressed”, he told me so I can feel encouraged.

With a heavy heart I watched as her body was covered with loads of dirt piled in many layer atop her body.  On this day I will never ever forget how marvelous the sky looked, it was perfect.  It was as clear as the ocean and that's just how she wold have wanted to show her life not lived.

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