I was very upset that my little boy was doing poorly. I had hoped that we would have received encouraging news. I was hoping for word of an improvement in his condition, but it didn’t happen that day. Now I had to go home, without my babies, and with my son being so periously fragile. I could not think at all. My brain stopped working. I could not wrap my head around the fact that I was supposed to ‘go home’ like everything is okay. And it wasn’t.
During the last 2 days, my husband had slowly taken home most of the things he could so that we wouldn’t need a small wagon to cart all of the flower baskets and bags back home on the day I was discharged home from the hospital.
We still had to carry some more congratulatory flower baskets that had arrived earlier that day and the day before.
I gathered that last of my belongings and walked to the elevator with the image of my little boy sandwiched between ultraviolet lights both above and below him and his bruised arms and legs from the countless blood draws and IV insertions.
My husband and I were silent and I took a spot in the back of the elevator hiding my face behind flowers and balloons.
The elevator stopped and two older women entered the elevator and their faces brightened when they saw the balloon my husband was holding that said “Welcome Twins!”
They enthusiastically started chattering “Oh Twins! How exciting! Are they boys? Girls? One of each?” My husband, not used to the attention, stammered that we had a boy and a girl. They commented on how lucky he was to have both a boy and girl at one time. Then I overheard one woman say to the other, “Let’s wait in the lobby. I am sure he has to go back to get them, and we can see the two babies.”
And then the dam broke.
I spoke up with a quivering voice, “Well, you will be waiting a long time because….because…”
My husband’s head spun around like in those horror movies, and his eyes were wide open, but I continued to speak “they are not coming home with us….wwaahhhhhh.” And I started bawling.
Those poor women and my poor husband had no idea what to do or what to say. One of them pulled out a minty smelling handkerchief from her purse and offered it to me.
My husband, who was horribly embarrassed, couldn’t do much because his arms were filled with all my stuff from the room.
But he did manage to apologize about a million times to them.
They were really kind and actually walked us to our car, one of them holding my arm and tried to comfort herself and me. They promised to keep my new family in their prayers and they urged me to get some rest because they were sure that the babies would be home in no time and things would get better.
Thinking about it now, it’s quite comical, but when it happened I was less than amused. And my husband was mortified!
Lesson Learned: Appreciate the kindess of strangers.