As I reflect over the last 3 years, my concept of loss has been viewed through a lens of tragedy and despair, but the final image shows a path of hope and perseverance. Towards the end of 2020, my wife and I decided that we were ready to start a family. As a young couple, excited to bring another member to our family, we became pregnant. Throughout a normal-looking pregnancy for 12 weeks, we were hopeful for a healthy child, but late one night my wife started severely contracting and bleeding. We rushed to the emergency department to find out our child had no heartbeat. There was no preparation for the feelings that we faced, yet we kept on and several months later my wife became pregnant once more.
Yet with all of the excitement for finally welcoming a new child into the world, she miscarried again. As a Pediatric ICU nurse, she had seen many, many mothers with several children who were poorly cared for, neglected, and unloved, all the while she had not been able to have one. On my side working as an adult ICU nurse during the COVID pandemic, each day I would put countless patients into body bags shortly after each family member said his/her goodbyes. This dark period in our lives was riddled with loss, but I am so thankful our marriage stayed strong and we loved each other well throughout.
Although our two children that we lost in the womb were never able to see a sunny day, experience a baseball game, or meet their grandparents, we trust God's plan for our lives and the future of our family. As I type this essay, I think of the excitement I have for starting my doctoral degree in nurse anesthesia. The 3-year process will keep me out of work, so my generous wife will be supporting our family financially, while we supplement with student loans. Being able to serve others through performing anesthesia has been a goal of mine for several years, but this year I was able to successfully get accepted into the University of South Carolina program. Fighting for this dream has not been easy; years of rejected applications and refusals for interviews made me hesitant to continue pursuing this passion, but persistence prevailed.
This is the exact reason why I have chosen to pursue my Doctorate in Nurse Anesthesia Practice: to humbly give compassionate care in the most uncertain moments before, during, and after surgery. Although there are many different career options for anesthesia, the operating room is my goal. As I begin my program this May at the University of South Carolina, I desire to strongly prepare myself for these moments: the moments when a family is worried about a procedure, or a child is scared of what it means to be "put asleep". However, compassionate care begins with proper preparation. The educational rigor and clinical training required are heavy, but I will choose joy in the difficult moments to come, as the eventual reward of giving strong and comforting care will be more than worth the struggle.
I have quickly realized through the loss of our two miscarried children that generosity, love, and compassion are what is most important in my life. My wife exemplifies these traits daily, and I hope to grow to continually do the same. We are even more thankful to express the joy that we have in sharing that we are due to have our first child this coming July. Although the doors for graduate school and parenthood have opened at the same time, causing financial stress and emotional heaviness, we stay motivated to pursue our goals so that we may continue to serve others well. In the hardest moments we grow, and through that growth, we can choose to either use our gifts and abilities selfishly or selflessly; I aim to choose the latter.