Navigating the unspoken burdens carried by those behind the badge, I lay bare a profoundly personal narrative from my book, "Subject to Change." With a content warning for the sensitive theme of infant loss, I invite listeners to either brace themselves or step aside for this episode, as it treads through the harrowing corridors of my life.
The toll on first responders doesn't end when the siren fades. Martin's story, unveiled in "Emotional Impact of Traumatic Call," echoes the silent struggle of every officer who has had to maintain a steely resolve in the face of unthinkable events. As she processes the distressing echoes of a call involving an infant named Megan, under the watchful eye of her training officer Mike, we honor the private battles fought long after the uniform comes off. This chapter is not merely a tale but a tribute to the sacrifice and vulnerability of those who serve, an exploration of the deep emotional impact that comes with the responsibility of shielding society from its darkest moments.
Navigating the unspoken burdens carried by those behind the badge, I lay bare a profoundly personal narrative from my book, "Subject to Change." With a content warning for the sensitive theme of infant loss, I invite listeners to either brace themselves or step aside for this episode, as it treads through the harrowing corridors of my life.
The toll on first responders doesn't end when the siren fades. Martin's story, unveiled in "Emotional Impact of Traumatic Call," echoes the silent struggle of every officer who has had to maintain a steely resolve in the face of unthinkable events. As she processes the distressing echoes of a call involving an infant named Megan, under the watchful eye of her training officer Mike, we honor the private battles fought long after the uniform comes off. This chapter is not merely a tale but a tribute to the sacrifice and vulnerability of those who serve, an exploration of the deep emotional impact that comes with the responsibility of shielding society from its darkest moments.
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Speaker 1:
Hey guys, this week's episode is going to be a little bit different and I need to have a disclaimer. I almost published this episode without having any sort of warning, and that is terrible. I decided to read a chapter from my book Subject to Change and it's a heavy chapter. It's a chapter on infant loss. So if you are not in the right I guess like mindset or you are healing from something like that, you're just not right Right now. You're just not in the mood to hear something this heavy. Please skip this week's episode. Like I said, I wanted to start sharing some chapters from my book and, this chapter being very significant to me, I decided to share it with my listeners. But again, I'm just letting you guys know it was a very heavy chapter. It has a lot to do with infant loss, so please, please, please skip it. Okay, guys, welcome back to the show. Hey guys, welcome back to Updated AF Collective.
Speaker 1:
The podcast. I am your host, megan Wirth. Today's going to be a special episode. It's something that came to me really last minute. I had notes and plans to record a different podcast episode, but today I am going to give you guys a sneak peek of my up and coming book Subject to Change. I will read one of the chapters Now. Remember, as I'm reading this to you, it's in its first rough draft. It still needs to go through eight edits. Bear with me.
Speaker 1:
I love going on other people's podcasts and talking about the book and the one question that I always get is like what's the hardest part about writing a book? And I always say it's like the hardest part if you're writing a memoir and you are unpacking trauma. The hardest part is writing about the trauma and reliving it, and one of the chapters that I'm going to read I'm going to share here on the podcast. As I was writing it, I cried when I was done and I just had to sit by myself for a little bit because I was reliving it. As I was typing it, I was feeling that adrenaline rush and if you don't know anything about the book, if you're new here, subject to Change is a book based on the last 10 years of my law enforcement experience working for a police department in Southern California, and it's primarily me going through the different phases of life and you know, from becoming a rookie police officer to more seasoned, getting married and becoming a mom and then becoming a single mom while trying to deal with, like everybody else's, problems in the city. So the book is, you know it's about me, it's about my life, but it's overcoming trauma and how I was able to overcome all that, leave a very, very toxic marriage and completely start over. So today's episode, I'm going to be reading you one of the chapters from Subject to Change. Welcome back, guys.
Speaker 1:
Welcome to the updated AF Collective podcast, where we celebrate the power and resilience of women. Join me as we dive into inspiring stories, engage in meaningful conversations and explore topics that empower women from all walks of life. I believe that every woman has a unique strength within her waiting to be unleashed. Whether you're an entrepreneur, a leader, a creative, a caregiver or simply on your own personal journey, this podcast is for you. Together, we'll share stories of triumph, discuss strategies for success and provide a supportive space for women to connect and grow. Get ready for real, authentic conversations that ignite your inner strength and inspire you to chase after your dreams fearlessly. Welcome to the Updated AF Collective.
Speaker 1:
Okay, before we get into it, the chapter is called Megan's Chapter. Every name in this book has been changed, except for her, because there's a significance on why I had to keep her name the same. So just a heads up. Like I said, like everybody's names were changed, most of the people got to pick their names. If I've reached out to you and I told you you're in the book and you got to pick your own name, you already know what your name is, but Megan, her name is very significant because of the type of call we were on, the trauma that involved and having that synchronicity of her name and my name being the same. So we're just going to jump right into it. This one, this chapter, like I said, is called Megan's Chapter.
Speaker 1:
Okay, three days into the work week and so far nothing too insane has happened to me. Yet I was out practicing traffic stops in the neighborhoods of Pacific Beach and breaking up bar fights in small bars that line the main road that led to the ocean. The sidewalks every day, all day, were packed full of tourists and locals. Pacific Beach is known for their beautiful beaches and their nightlight. After dark, the restaurants along the main road were all beach themed to help fit the environment, and most had live music or a DJ. With a younger crowd than downtown San Diego. It had been my favorite place to work so far.
Speaker 1:
It was a very quiet morning and since it was what officers on their last day of work before going into their days off called my Friday, mike decided we should go grab a coffee and put ourselves out on foot patrol, then go walk the seawall, that line, the ocean. I parked the patrol vehicle up near the main lifeguard tower and grabbed my coffee. As I got out of the patrol vehicle, mike and I walked around for almost an hour. As he told me stories about his time on the department, I learned Mike had been working there for over 10 years and had a family he loved so much. He talked about his kids like they were his greatest accomplishment.
Speaker 1:
Do you have any kids? Mike asked, taking a sip from his Starbucks cup. Well, I said I have a dog. Does that count? Mike, trying not to laugh, told me absolutely does not. It is not the same thing. He's my baby. I said, laughing back. I love him like he's my child. I take him out to dinner with me and we go on road trips. It's like having a kid. I told Mike almost sarcastically. No, it's not. Kids are kids and dogs are dogs. Mike told me If the world was ending and you had very little food to eat. Would you yourself eat it to survive or give it to your dog so that he could survive? Mike sounded a little offended asking me the question, but I confidently told him I would 100% give it to my dog because he is my child. He is not a child, mike yelled, throwing up his hands in frustration. I tried not to laugh because clearly this conversation was going nowhere and Mike was getting pissed off over a German shepherd he had never even met. And yes, I still to this day think Brutus was my child. Sorry, mike.
Speaker 1:
122 George, I heard dispatch say over the radio. 122 George. I replied throwing my empty coffee into the trash. 122 George, I need you to break from your foot patrol and respond to a non-breathing infant in La Jolla. I don't have any other units clear, so you're going to have to go. 122 George, 10-4,. Show us en route. I responded. Mike threw his coffee into the trash and we sprinted back to our patrol vehicle. 122 George, I chimed up on the radio. We will be code three from lifeguard tower one. I turned on the car's overhead flashing red and blue lights and click the switch that activated the siren.
Speaker 1:
I carefully backed out onto the main road and drove as fast as I could to complete opposite side of the division. I knew paramedics were already on their way to the family, but everything inside of me wanted to get there at the same time as them, although we were coming from the most furthest part of the division. We arrived to the condominium complex where I looked frantically for the address of the home. My heart was racing and I drove slowly, praying to God a family member would run out to flag me down. I was driving in circles and I could tell it was making Mike really mad, but he too couldn't find the condo. The place was a first responder's nightmare. The buildings weren't clearly marked and there wasn't a complex map to look at.
Speaker 1:
Finally, a woman ran out of the condo in front of me, waving her arms and screaming for help. Officer, she screamed, tears pouring down her face. My granddaughter isn't breathing. She's in there, please help. I threw the vehicle in park and, without saying a word to her or Mike, I ran into the house. Part of me was nervous about leaving my training officer behind, but that feeling quickly faded as soon as I got inside I saw another woman sobbing on her knees with her hands pressed into her face. Please help my daughter. She pleaded. Where is she? I said almost yelling out of frustration. The woman, through her sobs, pointed to the staircase and said she's upstairs with my husband.
Speaker 1:
I sprinted up the flight of stairs and could hear dispatch's voice on the speakerphone coming from a bedroom down the hall. I ran into the room and saw a man on the floor crying on the phone to our dispatcher as she tried to give him CPR instructions. I don't want to hurt her. She's only eight weeks old and she's so little. I heard him tell dispatch Without saying anything. I sat down next to the man on my knees where laid a very small little baby, lifeless, and her eyes were closed. The man quickly stood up with relief and his voice told the dispatcher on the phone the officer is here.
Speaker 1:
I had never given CPR to anyone that wasn't a dummy doll named Ann, but it was almost like my brain went completely blank and the only thing I can think of in that moment was my infant CPR training. I checked the baby for any signs of breathing and determined she wasn't getting any air. I started doing chest compressions on this tiny infant. My fingers felt so big and heavy on such a small child. Her blue face and her eyes closed, made her look lifeless, almost like a doll. This didn't feel real and I was absolutely terrified. I heard Mike come into the house, but still to this day I don't remember if he ever came upstairs to check on me or to see how I was doing.
Speaker 1:
I had what my police academy instructors called tunnel vision. My focus was solely on the child and nothing else. Actually, I did have one thought where the fuck is the fire department and where are the pedant paramedics? And then I saw a small rise and fall from the baby's chest as she took a breath without my help. She's breathing. I screamed at the father. She's breathing.
Speaker 1:
The father sat down on the floor next to me and I tried to get the baby to open eyes. I kept my finger on her small foot, monitoring her pulse, praying to God in my head please let her live. I could see some of the color come back into her face, but she still laid there almost lifeless. Megan, please breathe for me. Baby girl, daddy is right here, please come back to us. The father pleaded next to me, tapping the bottom of the baby's feet. His cry for his daughter to live made me tear up, but, remembering I was the one in uniform. I quickly stopped myself from becoming emotional. Wait. I said to the father what's her name? Megan. He replied she's only eight weeks old and she's a preemie. Looking back down at this beautiful little baby, I whispered to her we have the same name. The tears in my eyes started to drip down my face as I scooped her up in my arms to take her downstairs.
Speaker 1:
As soon as I did, three firefighters ran into Megan's room almost out of breath. I handed Megan off to them. She's breathing now but she's still unresponsive. I told them I handed them Megan and the father followed them as they rushed her outside of the home where they all got into the ambulance. Mike and I walked outside and tried to calm the grandmother. She was hysterical and told us how Megan had a history of breathing problems but had never gotten this far, to where they had to call 911. It's almost like she just forgets to breathe for a second. The grandmother told us she thanked Mike and I for coming and I handed her my information. I gave her a hug, thinking she really needed one, and then we left the house.
Speaker 1:
Mike walked back to the patrol car and I feared he may be upset with me for leaving him behind. But he wasn't. Good job, martin, mike said. Getting into the passenger side of the car, I sat up in the driver's seat, still feeling the adrenaline rush of it all. My heart was racing and the thought of Megan, so small and blue, refused to leave my mind. It was burned into my brain and has remained there for years now. I sat there in my seat deep in thought when I saw in my side view Mike slide our vehicle laptop over to him. Oh look, he said there's a rape call holding on the board. I'll send us en route to that. As if nothing I had just seen or experienced had ever existed, I sat up straight in the driver's side seat, put the car in drive and headed to a call for service for a rape victim. No way was I going to get emotional in front of my training officer. He wasn't upset about the radio call we had just been on. Then either should I. At least that's what I told myself. That night when I got home from my shift, I dropped my bag at the door and immediately sat down with my bag leaning against the hallway wall. Brutus was so excited to see me and sat down right on my lap, laying across it like he was a small breed dog. I stayed in that spot for over an hour that night and cried into his fur, wondering if Megan was going to be okay.
Speaker 1:
One year later, my sergeant handed me a card in an envelope with my name on it. A family stopped in and asked if I would give you this. My sergeant said, handing me the card. I took the card and opened it immediately, not having a clue what it was. The card was from Megan's parents, thanking me for my help. That morning they wrote thanks to you. Megan is celebrating her first birthday this week. I placed the card in my gear bag and walked into the locker room as if the incident had just happened. Yesterday I broke down in tears except they weren't happy tears or tears of relief Knowing Megan was alive. A year had passed and I haven't been able to stop thinking about her. I cried as if I was back in that exact moment in that home, on the floor, reliving the radio call. Picturing Megan's little, tiny body, blue and lifeless, was burned into my memory. I thought to myself what is wrong with me?
