She touched his elbow. “Can I talk to you?”
John’s heart skipped a beat as he straightened, puzzled. Sometimes God took the guesswork out of what he was supposed to do next. This seemed like one of those times.
Kari needed reassurance. Ever since hearing about Ashley’s pregnancy, she’d been worried sick that her sister’s newest baby might also have anencephaly. The thought kept her awake at night, and for the past week she hadn’t slept well. She kept remembering little Sarah and the heartbreak of that day. Her fears were so strong that she finally shared them with Ryan but only with him. As if by telling her dad or Brooke or any of the others, she might somehow make the possibility more real. Her fears, combined with the fact that Annie was eight months old and teething, meant Kari was up off and on throughout the night. The combination was leaving her exhausted.
Ryan had prayed with her every day and reminded her that the Bible advised not to be anxious about anything. The reminder sent Kari back to Philippians chapter 4—a section of her Bible she’d worn out back in the days when her first husband left home. Reading about the peace that passed all understanding helped, and next week she planned to start with the Scripture before turning in at night. Even still, yesterday she’d googled the possibilities of a repeat incidence of anencephaly and she’d found conflicting reports, nothing that would help her sleep better.
After Kari shared the results of her Internet search with Ryan, he’d come up with the only idea that made sense. “Talk to your dad. He’s probably thinking about it too.”
So Kari had determined that she’d find her father alone for a minute or two and ask him his thoughts on whether Ashley was at risk again. Ryan had taken the kids out to the car, and when Kari and her dad were far enough away from the others that no one could hear her, she turned to him. “I didn’t want to talk about this, but Ryan said I should.”
Her dad looked concerned. “About what?”
“Ashley. Her pregnancy.” Kari felt a chill pass over her arms, and she ran her fingers over the goose bumps. “I’m so worried. I looked on the Internet and tried to find the odds of having two babies with anencephaly. But every Web site says something different.” She paused, searching his eyes. “So what is it?”
For a beat, her dad looked a little stunned, as if her question truly surprised him. Then he pulled her into his arms. “Honey . . .” He released her and studied her face. “Is that why you look so tired?”
Kari stared at her feet, and a sigh came from her throat. “Yes.” She lifted her eyes. “I’m scared to death for her. Ryan thought you might know the odds.”
“I can give you the medical answer.” He took hold of her hands. “Research shows the chance of recurrence to be as high as 5 percent.”
“One in twenty?” The panic nagging at her a little more every day instantly doubled. “That’s higher than I thought, so how in the world is Ashley handling this when—?”
“But with God the odds are a hundred percent.” Her dad’s tone was kind but firm.
“What?” Kari wanted so badly for this baby to be healthy for Ashley. “That’s a terrible thing to say.”
“Listen . . . what I’m saying is with God the odds are a hundred percent that this baby will turn out exactly the way He planned.” He gave her a sad hint of a smile. “Just like Sarah.”
A gradual dawning came over her. Why hadn’t she thought of it that way? All her life she’d struggled with worry and often for good reason. A verse she’d memorized as a teenager came to mind. “‘Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?’” She smiled at her dad. “Is that what you mean?”
“Exactly.” The seriousness stayed in her dad’s expression. “Obviously it’s a scary situation for all of us. None of us wants Ashley and Landon to go through that again.” He gave her one more hug. “Ultimately, though, it’s up to the Lord.”
Kari felt the truth working its way through her, leveling her nerves and reminding her of a number of verses all underlining her father’s wisdom. The goose bumps faded, and she took a deep breath. “I still need you, Dad.”
“I’m glad.” His eyes grew more concerned. “There’s something I need to talk to you about too.”
This time Kari resisted her tendency to immediately assume something was wrong. She gave him her full attention. “Yes?”
He hesitated, clearly wrestling with whatever he had to say. “When I was at the hospital the other day, I visited with a young woman who had tried to kill herself.”
“How sad.” Kari wasn’t sure why her dad wanted her to know, but she felt for the woman, so distraught that she didn’t feel life was worth living.
Her dad took a step closer. “The woman was Angela Manning.”
The name caught her by surprise. Her mind raced, leaving her breathless. “Angela? Tim’s Angela?”
“Yes.” He took her hands again, lending her his strength. “She looks terrible. Whatever demons she’s battling, she’s losing.” He went on to say that Angela was being sent to the Christian inpatient facility he had recommended, and she was open to having visitors from their church’s women’s ministry. “Anyone could go talk to her, but I thought I’d tell you in case . . .”
Kari sucked in a breath. A replay of the images of that time in her life was flashing across her heart, making it hard to think clearly. But in that instant she knew exactly what her father had in mind. That maybe the visit should come from her. “Wow.” She felt the chill on her arms again. “I don’t know.” She tried to imagine the possibility. “I . . . I guess I need to talk to God . . . and Ryan.”
“I’m not asking you to see her. I just thought you should know.”
“Okay.” She nodded, still trying to comprehend the news. “I’m glad you told me.”
They talked a few more minutes, and then Kari joined Ryan and the kids in the car. She was quiet on the way home, sorting through the various aspects of the idea. Kari had wondered now and then what had happened to Angela Manning and what it would be like if they ran into each other at the market or the library or downtown at one of the boutiques near the university. Over time, Kari convinced herself that Angela must’ve moved as far as she could possibly get from Bloomington. But now she knew the truth. Angela was still here and struggling so much under the weight of her choices that she no longer wanted to live.
After they got home and the kids were in bed, Kari sat next to Ryan at their kitchen table. He wasn’t immediately in favor of the idea. “You’d be welcoming a lot of old pain back into your life.” He leaned over and kissed her, brushing his knuckles softly against her cheek. “I like the idea of praying about it.”
That night Kari felt no anxiety as she lay down to sleep. Her father had helped set her straight about Ashley’s pregnancy and the fate of her baby. Instead her thoughts were consumed with the choice laid out before her. She had asked God for a ministry of helping women, and God had given her just that. Kari had acted as a sounding board and friend, a mentor of sorts, first to her own sister Erin and then to several women from church.
But there was a difference. Each of those women had been discouraged in her marriage and feeling unloved or betrayed. That was definitely not the case with Angela. Whatever God asked of her, Kari was willing to do, and if God could use her to lead Angela to a saving relationship with Christ, then so be it. But if God wanted to use Kari that way, Ryan was right. A meeting with Angela would not come without great pain and sadness. Because Angela wasn’t only the woman who had gotten involved with Kari’s husband.
She was the woman whose deceitful lifestyle had led to his murder.
The dream was the same three times in the week leading up to Ashley’s ultrasound. She and Landon and the boys would be on a strangely deserted beach under ominous storm clouds, staring out at the sea, when a wave would rise up taller than the rest. Higher and higher and higher the wave would build until it towered over Ashley and her family.
“Run!” Landon would scream.
They
scrambled to their feet, Devin in Landon’s arms and Cole running alongside them. The wave grew higher and closer, and no matter how fast they ran, the sand kept them from getting farther ahead of the wave. For what seemed like hours they would keep running, staying barely a few feet away from the deadly wall of water, until finally Ashley would sit bolt upright, gasping for air, her eyes wide with terror.
Landon would spend the next half hour calming her down, and somehow she’d fall asleep again. But the image of her family about to be overtaken by certain death, desperately outrunning a tidal wave, remained in her waking hours as well.
Now finally the day had come, and in a few hours they’d have their answer. Either they’d be thrashing about in a sea of heartbreak or they’d find higher ground. Ashley’s heart pounded hard, and the first few miles of the trip she kept pressing her fingers to her wrist, checking her racing pulse. But halfway to the doctor’s office, Ashley’s heartbeat was so wildly fast she stopped checking it. The numbers were only making her more anxious.
She stared out the window and remembered her conversation with Kari earlier this morning. “I’ve never been more afraid in my life,” she’d told her sister.
Kari had reminded her about the verses in Philippians and how the Scripture provided God’s people a formula for peace. Now Ashley did the one thing she could do. She silently repeated the words from Philippians.
“You okay?” With his left hand, Landon had a tight grip on the steering wheel.
“Fine.” She crossed her arms and rested them on her belly. “Everything’ll be fine.” She looked out the window and began once again. “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.” This was not the first time she’d drawn from these verses, so the words came from her soul with little effort. “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
She stopped there and marveled for a minute. The peace of God truly did transcend all understanding because only by God’s peace was she able to take this ride to the doctor’s office without weeping every mile of the way. This was the road, the very same path they’d taken the day they first found out the bad news about Sarah. Now here she was taking it again and with no guarantees about what awaited them at the other end.
“You sure?” Landon reached out and took her hand. “You’re quiet.”
“Reciting Philippians.” She smiled at him. “Every time I read about the peace that passes understanding, I feel the truth of it spreading over me like . . .” She looked out at the blue sky. “Like sunshine, I guess.”
“Really? You’re not nervous?”
Ashley felt her smile fade. “I’m not nervous. I’m scared to death. But God’s giving me enough peace that I’m still sitting here, taking this ride.” The corners of her mouth lifted a little. “I’m here and I’m breathing, and right now, that’s enough.”
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I wish the next hour was behind us.”
Ashley angled herself toward him. “It’s like this ultrasound is all that stands between us and our baby’s future, like if we can get over this mountain, the rest’ll be easy.”
Her words made him chuckle. “It’s never easy.”
“I know.” She too allowed a rare bit of tender laughter. “With a child, there’s always another mountain.” She shifted, putting her back against the seat once more. “Makes it hard to let them go to school each morning.”
“Absolutely.”
They reached the doctor’s office, and at the sign-in counter they were greeted with the news that their doctor wasn’t in today. One of her kids had the flu, and she’d stayed home. For an instant Ashley considered turning around and coming back when their doctor was in. She’d been with them through the journey of Sarah’s diagnosis and her birth. This was no time for someone new.
But Landon nodded at the receptionist, and with a light touch on the small of Ashley’s back, the two of them took a seat in the waiting room.
“I don’t want a new doctor,” she whispered. Panic was shouting at her from the other side, making it hard for her to concentrate on the Scripture.
“Any doctor can do the test.” He kept his tone low to match hers.
“‘Rejoice in the Lord always,’” she mumbled. “‘I will say it again: Rejoice! . . .’”
“What?” Landon looked worried about her.
“Philippians.” She glanced at the doorway of the waiting room as a nurse appeared. “Trying to stay sane.”
“Ashley?” The nurse smiled in their direction.
Ashley stood and tried to make her legs walk without shaking. She linked her arm through Landon’s, and together they followed the nurse.
The entire walk, she felt like she’d fallen into one of her dreams. She could practically feel the mist from the tidal wave closing in on them. Breathe, she ordered herself. Help me to breathe, God.
Daughter, My grace is sufficient for you.
The voice breezed across the landscape of her heart, giving her just enough strength to make it to the examination room. She sat on the edge of the table, and the nurse gave her the routine about changing into a gown. When they were alone and Ashley had changed clothes, she held Landon’s hand but neither of them spoke. The test would do all the talking needed.
Ashley slid her feet beneath the sheet, and after barely any time, the doctor knocked and then entered the room. He was an older gentleman with white hair and kind eyes. Ashley liked him immediately.
After he introduced himself, his expression grew even more compassionate than before. “I know your history.” He looked from her to Landon. “Let’s get on with the test. Then we can put aside any fears you might have about this baby.”
Any fears? How about constant fears? she wanted to say. How wonderful that this doctor understood how she was feeling. But now it was time, and that meant . . . that meant the answer was coming. Ashley felt light-headed, and she gave the doctor a vague smile. “Yes, let’s get it done.”
Landon stood at her side, but he remained quiet. Ashley looked at him, deep into his heart, and she knew he was praying. Whatever the answer today, they would get through the coming months and years together. They would cling to their faith and their family because God would not abandon them now. No matter what the test revealed.
The doctor wheeled the ultrasound machine and the attached monitor to the other side of Ashley’s bed. He lifted her gown just enough so the bump of her stomach showed. He squirted a blob of warm gel onto her stomach. Then he took the machine’s probe and used it to spread the gel evenly over her abdomen. Immediately, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room.
Okay, here we go. . . . The familiarity of the routine made Ashley feel sicker than before. She closed her eyes for a moment. “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition . . .”
“Let’s see if we can get a look here.” The doctor’s voice was gentle and soothing.
Ashley studied the monitor, not quite sure what they were looking at.
“Is that the baby’s spine?” Landon took a step closer, his attention locked on the screen.
“Yes, exactly.” The doctor sounded happy. Happy was good. He shifted the probe, and what looked like toes came into view. “These are your baby’s feet and legs. All very normal and healthy.”
Ashley moved her tongue along the dry roof of her mouth. The probe was going in the wrong direction. They weren’t worried about the baby’s feet and legs but the head. The skull. She held her breath.
“Let’s take a look at the other end of the baby’s spine.”
Ashley ordered herself to exhale. The other end was where the spine met the baby’s head, the place where neural tube defects could be seen, the place where a problem would be seen if there was—
; “Good news.” The doctor’s tone never changed. “No neural tube defects for this little one.”
Ashley felt the tears. No neural tube defects! No anencephaly, no death sentence for the child growing inside her. She turned her head to the side and let her tears spill onto the pillow.
Landon bent down, kissing her tears and pressing his cheek to hers. “Thank You, God,” he breathed against her hair. “Thank You.”
The doctor was still moving the probe over Ashley’s stomach. “We really don’t expect to see something like anencephaly recur. But you have nothing to worry about now.” He slid the probe another few inches. “Well . . . look at that. Would you like to know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”
Ashley and Landon had been so concerned about the health of their baby that they hadn’t even discussed whether they wanted to know. But now Ashley couldn’t help but wonder if this baby might be a girl, the daughter she could picture herself raising. She turned to Landon, and they both nodded.
The doctor chuckled quietly. “His legs are not quite together. No question this little one’s a boy.”
For an instant, a crushing weight of disappointment hit Ashley square in her chest. So that was that. This child would not be the daughter she so wanted. But just as quickly she rejoiced at the news. Another boy! A healthy boy to play with Devin and Cole and to fish with his daddy and play in the tree house. A wonderful, endearing, rambunctious little boy.
She put her hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut as again her heart shifted. Again her emotions waffled. So there would be no little girl to fill the empty places Sarah had left behind. Ashley had been granted a daughter once but not this time. And since she wasn’t sure if they’d have another child, the news meant there might never be another girl. No daughter whose hair she might brush, who would share secrets with her on a Friday night after a date with a boy. No girl whose heart would be like her own and no one to buy dresses for when prom time came around. No daughter to plan a wedding for.
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