Cory, Dusty & Little Angel

The little family at the hospital

I feel like I should write these next Posts in order to give a perspective.  Each of the events added to each other causing my decisions.  If I didn't have this experience with Dusty and her family then I would not have made the choice to return to my mission which in turn would mean that I would not have met Elder Collins. Who, with the way he interacted with me, solidified my beliefs. Our choices define us.  What we do with the good and bad in our lives is who we are.  And this was one of the turning points for me.

OK, last weeks post should give you an idea of how unprepared I was for my mission.  I jumped in with both feet and my eyes closed.  I know now that was the best for me because if I known any better I would not have gone.

Background.  I did not have the average male missionary experience.  Talking with other female missionaries I find I have more in common with them, but it was still a rough go for me.  You have to know that I was very anti-social due to the treatment I had received growing up.  A mission was a relatively safe environment compared to most of the rest of the world.  Companions were forced to deal with me.  I had to realize my way of thinking was not like the rest of my peers. I hurt a lot of feelings by not understanding.  I am sure each one of my companions has a major complaint about me.  Still I think it was quite brave of me to even be willing to interact with people at all.  I still had faith in them despite my experiences.

I don't understand why my Mission President decided to put me with a trainer who was very ill.  The day we meet she informed the Pres, that she had to have gall bladder surgery.  That first 6 weeks, which happened at Christmas, was a mess.  I didn't learn how to be a missionary.  Sister O was struggling.  I had to stay with her in the hospital.  Then her brother died and she was too ill to attend his funeral.  I didn't know how to help or what to do.  It was like being on your first day as a hostess in a restaurant only to have everyone gone and you leave you charge to take care of the cooking for the lunch rush.  I did not handle it well and Sister O had plenty of reasons to resent me.  Infact, later when we saw each other again at a conference she asked me why I hated her.  I was surprised by the question and able to assure her I never felt that way, but that I was very frustrated with the situation I was put into.

So I was transferred to Sister H in Worland, Wyo.  That proved to be a disaster also.  I experienced the darker side of a mission with sister H.  She was so deceptively innocent.  I had no reason not to believe her stories, but as I spent more time with her I became embarrassed by her outrageous behaviour.  We were constantly breaking the rules.  I am sure she has all kinds of complaints about me.  That is an understatement.  I happen to know she spread stories about me that caused  a lot of problems later in my mission.  Just know that it got bad enough for me to want out of there.  I called the President begging to be Emergency Transferred out, but he had the higher more prominent leaders of the church at mission headquarters because of the new temple building site in Billings, Mt.  I told him I would hang on.  I had a huge spiritual upheaval during this time both good and bad so I was a pain in the butt to Sister H and the pair of Elders in Worland.

Thankfully Transfers came and I was ready to get out of there only the phone call came and I had to stay.  I was so disappointed.  I received a new companion Sister G and I will always love her for teaching me how to be a missionary.  We had been companions for about a month when Sister G blew up at me.
           "You never help!  I feel like I have to do everything!"

She was completely right.  I had no idea what a missionary did every day.  I was 4 months out before I knew how to plan a day or the answers to give to the basic questions asked by investigators.  Sister G taught me how to work.

So that is the back drop for this very strange situation with Dusty.

We had a place to go and hang out with the McIntosh family.  They had us over for dinner all the time and we played games.  Unexpectedly Tammy McIntosh's sister Dusty arrived at her home.  She had been a member of the church as a child, but had since left.  Through nights of playing Skip-Bo we learned her dire situation. 

Dusty was 8 months pregnant, as we played the card game at the table she would show us an outline of a rouge foot pressing against her stomach.  According to Tammy, Dusty had a horrible boyfriend and father of the baby named Cory.  He was heavily into drugs and Dusty had been caught up in it.  Tammy had rescued Dusty from the drug life in Colorado and had brought her to Worland, Wyoming.  Tammy was annoyed that Cory had followed Dusty and they were still having to deal with him.  I never saw him during that time, but the girls complained that he had a darkness around him.

Never thinking that I would get caught up in this family drama I stayed at arms length trying not to make a judgement on anyone. 

Tammy called us in a panic.  Dusty was going into labor and she had no one to watch the kids while she went to the hospital.  We were unable to help for some reason I don't remember, so she called the Elders.  They ended up babysitting until Mr. McIntosh got home.  At that time I did not see any problem with us as Missionaries helping in the situation, but after Sister G. I figued out it is not appropriate for us to intercede in that way.  A member of the church should have been called to help. 

We shared a car with the Elders and went to pick them up from the McIntosh's.  Tammy called while we were there asking that some supplies be brought by the hospital and Sister H. volunteered for us to go.  I should have spoken up since it was past our curfew, but the Elders seemed to be on board and they were the leaders of our section of the mission, so I thought I was wrong.

I did not want to see a woman in labor.  It was the first time for such an awful sight for me.  I had no experience with babies or taking care of babies.  My brother is 3 years younger, so I don't remember him in that state.  I didn't understand the demands or how difficult it is to be a new mother.  It felt very wrong for me to intrude on such a personal moment.  I finally got enough guts to tell the others I didn't want to go, but they didn't listen to me.

We entered the hospital room to pass the bag of stuff off to Tammy.  What do you say in a situation like that?  I was almost a complete stranger being asked to share what I thought was an intimate moment.  Then Dusty had a contraction and I thought the world was going to end.  The pain was excoriating for her and I felt my stomach muscles cramping in sympathetic reaction to her pain.  Unfortunately, Dusty's way of handling the contractions was to hold her breath.  The nurses were urgently commanding her to  "breath, Dusty, breath", because the lack of air caused the baby's heart beat to drop, they were afraid something very bad would happen to the newborn.

I couldn't handle the tension, so I made a very dumb joke when everything calmed down.  I smacked my big belly and said with as much humour as I could muster, "This thing is staying empty for awhile."  It broke the mood with everyone laughing.  Then another contraction hit.  Everyone started yelling at Dusty again.  I couldn't stand the desperation in the air, so overcoming my self-doubt, I stepped to the edge of her bed, put my hand on her arm and very calmly and in a lower tone than everyone yelling at her, asked Dusty to breath.

My words got through and Dusty listened to me.  The emergency passed and I turned to leave.  "No, Please don't go." She calls to me.  "Without my glasses you seem like an angel at the end of my bed."  How do you answer that?  The head nurse took me aside and asked if I would stay and help Dusty through the labor.  I had been the only person she would listen to. 

I knew I would have to ask the Elders, who were my leaders, if I was allowed to break curfew, hoping they would say no and I could get out of the uncomfortable spot I found myself in.  But they had witness the interaction and gave me permission to stay.  So the choice was up to me. 

I reluctantly agreed to help Dusty through the labor.  I kept my voice low and soothing trying to think of what to talk about.  I don't know why she didn't get any pain medication.  I can only guess her drug addiction history came into play, but I don't know.

Finally the baby was ready to be born.  I figured my job was done.  She didn't need me for the pushing part and I felt like I would only get in the way.  I was preparing to leave when Tammy and the nurses protested.  They asked me to stay and I figured I made never be able to experience something like this ever again.  I don't have any sisters.  So I stayed.

I was ready to hold a leg with my head down.  I certainly wasn't going to look!  But then the Doctor came in and started talking to me like I was the important person in the room.  He pointed to the head crowning and I couldn't help but peek.  I was struck by how beautiful that little head was.  I didn't feel awkward or embarrassed.  I wanted to meet that little person!  Poor Tammy. her sister got stuck at the head of the bed helping Dusty count her numbers and didn't get to see the miraculous birth. 

I was useless at this point, totally stuck by the awesomeness of the event.  The Doctor worked to get the baby out, but there was a problem.  She was coming out head first, but the baby was on her back, so Mother and child were spine to spine.  The little shoulder became wedged and she wasn't coming out.  I watch the nurse get a step stool to leverage her weight and push very hard and very fast against Dusty's belly in an effort to dislodge the baby.  Thankfully it worked.

Screams, rushing people, yelling doctors were pushed to the edges of my perception.  Everything else was gone when that little girl looked me straight in the eye.  She was still stuck in her mother, awful medical things were happening all around us, but her big brown eyes held me in place.  I remember thinking that I, me, stupid, ugly Becky is the first thing that this new life is seeing.  It filled me with a new confidence that I have never lost.

They swept her away.  It was revealed to me that Dusty had done drugs while pregnant and no one knew if the newborn, I now loved so much, would suffer the adverse effects.  A special medical crew had been called out to test her and take her away to a bigger hospital if necessary.  I waited with baited breath, fearing the worst. But despite all the worry, the baby was pronounced healthy and given to Dusty. 
She was name Michelle Angel because that was how Dusty saw me, as the angel at the foot of her bed.

I don't know the relationship of Cory and Dusty at that point.  I know he wasn't at the birth, but came the next day to the hospital when I was there.  I was a little afraid of him and didn't pursue any friendship.  I was under the impression that Dusty's family disliked him and were trying to get rid of him.

So imagine my surprise when Dusty asked if the male missionaries would come over and give Cory a lesson.

More about the little family in the next post.