Part III: Sunday, August 11.
The Absurdity.
Today is Tisha B'Av - a national mourning (and fasting) day for Jews. As usual, we took our 18mo
old clever, gorgeous little girl to Gan for the day and left the boys with a
babysitter and my husband's sister, who came out special to help us.
We headed north
and arrived in Haifa just before 10am so they could squeeze us into their
schedule. I was 13w+5d and though we arrived on time, it didn't matter one whit
since Maccabi hadn't yet sent us the mandatory Tofes 17.
I had been fasting since midnight in
preparation for the surgery this morning but nothing doing. We found the proper floor, signed in and my
husband and I sat in the waiting area while we waited for this document that,
apparently, was never going to arrive. The nurses, with kindness in their eyes,
were ready to take me back in an instant, knowing what I was going to undergo.
We (that is, my Israeli husband) called Maccabi every
hour upon arrival and, right away they told us that, oh, we’ll mark it urgent for
us (never mind that they had already said that on Thursday afternoon –
remember that?) and it would arrive within the hour (but remember, we're
already at the hospital waiting).
We wait and call in another hour, oh,
they exclaimed, we'll mark it extra urgent and you'll get it in an hour!
I put my head on the table.
Still, nothing but disappointment. At this point, I'm still fasting, but now I'm
lightheaded and it's noon. At one point, the nurses rush me back to squeeze me
in but as we approach the back, they realize the document had not, in
fact, come in, and apologized profusely as they brought me back to the waiting
area. I got nothing but sympathetic faces.
It's now after noon and the hospital can
no longer fit us into their schedule. I’m emotionally and physically empty but for my uterus.
After giving us an appointment for the
very next morning (Monday) at 7:30am, Rambam Hospital sent us home, provided,
of course, we got the Tofes 17 in time. My husband continued to call Maccabi every
hour, including when they were closed to the public from 12-4p (cushy job), and
they kept promising that we'd get it. In response, my husband kept telling them he didn’t
believe a word they said. He kept calling and calling and told them, NO,
we already missed our appointment this morning, we have a new
appointment tomorrow at 7:30am, and we can't go if we don't have this document. Despite
all their promises, despite all our pleading, their office closed with no Tofes.
So what do we do, my husband asks me. I
shrug. I am emotionally spent. It's enough that I'm still growing a baby who won't
live. It's enough that I (we) must make this choice at all. It's enough that I have
to go through this “procedure.” Now we have to fight with my kupa about getting
it done, in time, so I don't have to be induced and give birth.
But big surprise…. Maccabi hadn't come
through and I have no energy whatsoever to go to Haifa again, much less
at 6:30am without a Tofes or any guarantee that the hospital can do the
procedure. Not to mention figuring out how to get the little one to Gan...
so we cancel my husband's brother for the next day and say we'll wait. I guess
we’ll just wait for the Tofes and I'll go to work.
I still don’t really feel like telling anyone
or talking to very many people, but I finally tell my good friend in Netanya
what's going on and, just like my other friends and family, she hurts for me.
She asks what she can do. Nothing, I said. There’s nothing you can do. But she
doesn't listen. Instead, she sets up a meal train for me starting on Tuesday. People
will bring over food for my family and me so I don't have to worry so much
about recovering and moving around. She surprises me with a bottle of wine and
my favorite snack: salty pretzels and Duncan Hines cream cheese frosting. I actually smile, hug her
tight, hurry inside to put my kids to bed, break the fast, and eat my beloved
pretzels and frosting in the living room.
It's now evening on the day this was supposed to happen and it’s finally quiet in our
apartment. My husband and I sit next to each other in quiet. He watches a show
on Netflix. I watch a different show. I think, "I still have a baby."
We turn off our shows and study for my law exams
that are scheduled for next week.
We go to sleep.
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