But I've never experienced anything remotely like this one.
A nurse from Labor and Delivery phoned. She sounded upset. Her patient, we'll call her Ruthie, had delivered a 22-3/7-week baby boy about two hours earlier. The baby was alive, but would not be for long. And Ruthie would have nothing to do with him. She didn't want to see, much less hold him. She would not talk about burial or cremation arrangements. She would not talk about her baby. She just wanted to go home. The man with her was of the same mind. The couple were in their thirties, and "weren't from around here." Neither, in fact, is a citizen of this country.
The nurse couldn't stand the thought of the baby's being all alone, dying, and going to the morgue. She was staying with the baby and loving him. She wanted to know what would happen to the baby and whether there was anything I could do.
Mindful of my boss's instructions not to hesitate to contact the nursing supervisor if I found myself in an untenable situation, I went to find her. The sadness of the situation was shocking to her, as well. She spoke with the sweet nurse and made began the process of contacting social work to assist with making the infant a ward of the county. As we talked, my role became clear to me.
I went up to the delivery floor and sought out the nurse. She told me that the doctor was with the baby, and together we went in. He was very, very tiny, and his breaths were not close together. He was under a warming lamp and wearing a little green knitted hat. The doctor had her hand on him. I asked them to join me in prayer and thanked God for creating this beautiful child, and asked God to receive him back into his loving arms. I made the sign of the cross on his forehead and blessed him. He would not live much longer.
The parents would have nothing to do with me. They did not want to be consoled and they did not want to plan and they did not want to talk. They wanted to be left alone.
Born too soon to a mom who wanted him so much that she got all mixed up when nature failed her, this baby will be with me for a long time.
It was a terribly sad situation. This brief little life was supported by a loving and gentle doctor, a caring nurse, and a chaplain called in desperation.
His parents didn't even give him a name. But as I stood there with my finger on his tiny forehead, I thought about my own firstborn and knew that he wouldn't mind sharing his name. I will think of him as Thomas.
