Sunday, July 4, 2010

Post 3...The blame game

Since I first found out my hours were cut at work after being out for my miscarriage (and trust me, I understand the legal haziness surrounding it all. But honestly, when dealing with loss of our son and all that entailed, the last thing we wanted to spend our efforts on was a lawsuit), I immediately started looking for another job. Although job searching is the second to last thing I want to deal with at this time of life, I can't stay at a job where communication is lacking and everything is seen through the eyes of favoritism from the bottom of a wine bottle. (My bosses are big on wine and are known to get together after work hours to drink and then attempt to manage work issues while harboring a good buzz.) At any rate, in my job searching, a friend of my husband's recommended me to his hiring rep. As soon as he gave them my information, the rep contacted me right away, which I took as a good sign. Yay for being employable! Anyway, to cut out some other details, she got back to me a few weeks later with a job opening at Google. The contracting agency wanted to interview me for the job as sort of a "pre-screening" and if I fit the mold, they would set me up for an interview with Google. Well, I didn't want to tell my boss that I needed time off for another job interview, so like any good employee I lied and told them I had a doctor's appointment.

"Have you asked your doctor yet if they think it was your mucus plug that came out that day when you called them?" my boss asked me after I told her about my "doctor's appointment."

"What?" I asked.

"Well, if it were me, I'd be wondering if there was something I could've done. Or at least wondering if there were any signs or anything that could've been done to prevent the miscarriage. If I were you, I'd ask your doctor if something could've been done."

All I could do was shrug and agree with her just to be socially polite. I needed the day off after all so I wasn't about to argue with my boss. But as I walked away from her office, I couldn't help but think, what a pointless question that would be to ask. Of course there was something that could have been done to prevent it. At some point in time, the issue of my cervix was preventable. The problem was, we didn't catch it until it was too late. Things played out the way they did, and though I never wanted it to go that way, and of course I wish I could change things...what's done is done. What would be the point of assigning blame? I can't blame the doctors for not knowing. Because once they figured it out, they did all they could to help. I can't blame myself because, how was I to know my cervix was incompetent? When I had odd symptoms, I called the doctor right away. As much as blame may give me something to aim my anger at...what would be the point? Placing blame would not change the situation. It wouldn't bring my son back. Of course I can be angry at how things ended up. But I'm angry at the situation, not at any one person. At times, I hate my body for letting go of my son and I get angry for having what feels like a broken body. But my body is was it is. It didn't do anything on purpose. It's not like my cervix has a mind of it's own and was being vindictive. The evil cervix of doom! No...this was simply a thing of nature. And lucky for me, medical practices have advanced enough for me to be able to prevent it for the next time. Thanks to little Joey Jr. we know now what needs to be done.

The thought sat with me for a few days. But ya know...I'm happy knowing that I don't need to play the blame game. I think it's a good sign that I am healing. Also, I'm glad my boss gave me the time off for my "doctor's visit." Here's to new beginnings.

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