After the accident happened and they loaded Benny and I into ambulances, I started praying. I’m not a religious person, but I knew in that moment that I needed a miracle. When they don’t let you ride in the ambulance with your child, you know it’s bad.
I don’t remember much about the ambulance ride except for the pleading that was going on in my head. I begged my mom over and over to save my little man. I begged my grandmother, my aunt, my uncle, Parker’s aunt, Jodie, anyone to make it better. I begged and pleaded over and over.
When we got to the hospital, the EMT’s told me that they would let us in where they were working on Bennett, but that I had to control myself. If I couldn’t hold it together or I became a problem, they would take me away. I nodded and knew it didn’t matter because I was so devoid of feeling at that point anyway. I just kept praying.
I begged the doctors to save him. I tried to explain how special he was. They just kept saying that it didn’t look good. I kept begging, praying and pleading in my head. Someone had to save him. This couldn’t be happening. Not to my son. Not to us.
There was nothing, there was silence. No one saved him for me that day. We didn’t get our miracle.
10 months later I am here again. We found we were pregnant, on our anniversary. We were surprised, happy, elated. I was ecstatic that Darcy would have a sibling to grow up with. I was scared, but so happy for the first time in a long time. For one week, things were looking up.
The night of the 10 month anniversary of Benny’s death, I started bleeding. I knew something wasn’t right. So I started praying again, begging even. This couldn’t be happening, not again, not to us. I spoke to the doctor’s office and they said based on my bloodwork, my numbers were low, it was ‘indeterminant’ if I was pregnant. A chemical pregnancy they called it.
I’ve prayed, I’ve begged, I’ve pleaded. I don’t know what else to do. It’s been met with silence. I don’t know how to make sense of this. What cruel fate have we come upon? How many times am I supposed to pick myself back up? Do we ever get the miracle? Will we ever get a break?