Well, if it wasn't bad enough that after a month of trying to find ways for Christian to stay home, he had to leave again, it got harder and more stressful as the day came closer.
Christian was scheduled to drive down to the MCT with a new Corporal from the office Christian was doing recruiting for. Every day we argued and fought. Over nothing. We'd snap at the slightest innocent statement and get defensive. I didn't want him to leave. I was angry. How could I not be? Everyone had lied. We had done everything we could to keep him home just for four more days. Sat on our knees praying that things would work out. And yet, no answer. Even after hours of tossing and turning and pacing at night while Christian slept, pleading for help, begging for God to help heal my heart and comfort me. And yet, nothing. No change. The anxiety got worse. Sometimes I'd find that I couldn't talk to Christian. I had nothing to say. I had completely given up hope that he would be here for the birth of our son. I could see it in his eyes too. Occasionally, he'd break down and it made me feel weak and helpless. I couldn't stop the tears that flowed down his face, I didn't know how. The only thing in this world he's ever wanted, was to marry an amazing girl and be there for the birth of his kids. Being denied the right to be there to hold his baby was eating away at him. He tossed and turned every night, most nights waking me up two or three times to him crying out in his sleep at nightmares.
Wednesday the 9th, we arrived at the OBGYN office and were given an option by the doctor. We already had the induction date set for the 19th, but Christian wasn't going to be here for it. The doctor told us that there was a way that the membranes could be stretched to force the dilation process to go faster, making it possible for the baby to come before the next week. The problems with this plan was not only a possibility with infection, but the baby was still only maybe 5 lbs and a few ounces, if the baby came before the induction date, he could be premature and have complications. Not only that, but he would be in an incubation set up for easily a week or more and we would probably not be able to hold him. Christian shook his head and just said no. I was conflicted. The only person I even wanted in the delivery room with me was Christian, and he was giving up the one last chance we probably had at him being there. Even if our baby was early, he would be there. I know it's selfish, but I was willing to put my own child in an incubation set up to have Christian there with me. I didn't want to do this without him. I knew he already felt so left out, he had been gone three months, and only seemed to be involved in the worst parts of it. He felt more like a sperm donor than a father. Like everyone was planning for this baby and he had no say. With a deep feeling of depression settling over me and tears filling my eyes in front of the doctor I said no. After he left and I dressed I couldn't look at Christian, I hurt all over my insides. That burning feeling in my eyes got worse and a few tears fell as I pulled on my shoes. Christian just sat in the corner looking like an empty corpse. We left and went to visit his dad at work, which would have been fine, except I couldn't stop crying. I sobbed from the minute I was in the car until we got there. We ended up snapping at each other in the car and I ended up going in, looking like we'd been fighting.
Sunday, 13th of January, morning came and we laid staring at the ceiling. Both of us out of tears and completely exhausted with trying to stay positive. We got up and everyone was already at church. We got into the shower and tried not to cry. Then we spent the day in the nice quiet house laying in bed and holding onto each other. Still hoping and praying for a miracle, no matter how small. After dinner we watched a movie and spent time talking about what I needed to do while he was gone. It was a long night that we spent getting ready for him to leave the next day.
Monday, January 14th, morning found me physically sore and achy from tossing and turning, and Christian sobbing and laying on my belly. It hurt me to see him so distraught and looking so lost. He cried for a few minutes before I sat up and held him. I hated watching him hurt so bad. I comforted him and handed him tissue after tissue, until around 11:30 when he finally got off the bed and started packing up his C-bag.
Once he finished, we headed to the bank and then to cabelas. After final goodbyes and some tears and a talk with the corporal driving with Christian, they got into the truck and pulled out. I followed them to the freeway in our car and then drove off in the opposite direction. I didn't cry until I got home. Then bursting into tears and throwing myself on the bed I buried my head into the pillow and sobbed. Christian texted me the whole drive to California. And my heart broke the whole time. Finally early Tuesday morning they got into town and checked into a hotel.
Tuesday morning while I nannied my siblings I texted Christian to find that he was getting ready to check in to his platoon. I told him I loved him and let him go. I got a text from him nearly seven hours later telling me that he had been out in a holding platoon and forced to sit in the corner for hours because he told the sergeants that I was due on the upcoming Saturday the 19th of January, four days away. His platoon he was supposed to be in had filled up and now he was going to be in the holding platoon barracks for up to three weeks before training even started. Frustrated he explained that the only way for him to come home was if the Red Cross would send a message to the office to release him to come home.
So like a good wife who would like my husband home so he wouldn't be sitting in barracks sleeping on a cot without a blanket for three weeks, I called. The individual who spoke to me was less than sympathetic and told me that unless my husband was deployed or I was having life threatening pregnancy complications they couldn't send a message. I asked kindly if the individual or the supervisor could call the office and just excuse Christian. The lady pretty much said tough luck and hung up the phone.
I texted Christian and hopelessly sobbed thinking that there was no way Christian would be there with me in the delivery room. He said to keep my head up and have mom call and whoever else to get him home. Well mom called. No luck. We talked to an aunt of mine who's husband was in the Marines, and she said she would help with anything she could.
Wednesday, Christian was getting antsy. I had called the Red Cross and Christian had gotten a number for me to give to his recruiter to give to the Red Cross to demand for a release. He called and the Red Cross said they would call me to get last minute information later. A lady calls me that night and says she is going to get last minute information so that Christian can be released. She said goodbye once the information was given and I excitedly texted Christian saying he would be getting a Red Cross message shortly. Then we talked to my aunt and everything seemed perfect. Until I looked at my phone. Missed call saying to call the Red Cross. I called and the lady told me there was still last minute information she missed and once done she said there was nothing she could do to bring my husband home. I was shocked and upset. They had made me believe he was going to come home. I asked if she could pull strings. She said no, said sorry, and hung up. Frustrated and in shock and horror I sat on the floor and cried and prayed and begged God to help me. I prayed harder in these three days than I'd ever prayed in my life. I spent that night tossing and turning and nearly hysterical. Christian too was starting to panic. He hasn't slept since being on base.
Thursday, morning came and I was on nanny duty again, when the phone rang. The Red Cross again. Calling to confirm that they were sorry but it was out of their hands unless I was going through a life threatening complication. I thanked them in a very sarcastic tone and Hung up without another word. I didn't want to hear their sorry's and if there's anything we can dos. I texted Christian and told him it was up to him. No one on my end could do anything and he needed to find a way to bypass the Red Cross. That's when my aunt called and told me she was going to have my uncle call, evade if we didn't get Christian off base by Friday morning all the officials would be gone for Martin Luther king weekend and then Christian would be stuck on base until Tuesday.
My uncle called and talked to a first sergeant. After having a very respectful conversation he was able to get the sergeant to allow Christian to come home for the birth. Christian was told "get a plane ticket, you're going home" by five that night. I had prayed all day and thanked God for allowing Christian to find a way home. Christian bought a plane ticket for Friday and he'd arrive home at 1:00 pm.
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