Corine is pushing a stroller, and her little boy has the biggest brown eyes you have ever seen. As we get back into the room to discuss her positive pregnancy test, you can see and feel her entire world implode. She was out a few months ago and ran into some friends from high school. They caught up on life and were enjoying one another's company. This group, which was three guys and Corine, along with her little boy, decided to watch the football game at their house. They gave Corine a Coke, which is the last thing she remembers.
She woke up a few hours later, her beautiful little boy still strapped in his stroller while she was lying sideways, completely undressed on the bed. My heart aches for her as she relives the story of grabbing her clothes and her baby and getting out of the empty house as soon as possible. As she closed the door, she convinced herself she would not think or speak about this day to anyone... Until now, she has been faced with an overwhelming decision. We talked about all of her options, as her husband will be returning in a month from deployment. She worries what he will think, how he will feel, and all the uncertainties that lie ahead.
One of the most difficult aspects of the roles we fulfill within our community is sometimes, we never know what happens. We never saw Corine after that day, even though we sat through complete anguish with her for hours while she cried, processed, and worked through numerous emotions. When we tried to follow up with her, her phone had been disconnected. There was no answer, outcome, or closure to the life-altering circumstances we witnessed that day. I think about her often and pray for her frequently. The comfort I find in circumstances like these is that she was not alone. In that moment of overwhelm, there was someone to sit with her in the uncomfortable space, to hear her, and offer to help in any way we could. That's our call, and we will continue to fulfill it.