by Irene Hannon
“Babies are born early all the time, Kelsey. You’re less than five weeks from your due date. You’re early, but not dangerously early.”
“But I… I’m not ready. I haven’t decided…” All at once she gripped her midsection.
Luke went down on one knee beside her again, putting them at eye level. “Look at me, Kelsey.” Once he had her attention, he continued, his voice soft but firm. “Focus on my eyes and breathe with me. Come on, you can do this. In through the nose, out through the mouth.” He drew in a long breath. She did the same. He held it for a few seconds, then exhaled slowly. She mimicked his actions. He repeated that exercise until the contraction passed.
“Okay. Let’s get to the hospital.” He stood and helped her to her feet. “Can you walk, or do you want me to carry you?”
“I’ll walk. I don’t want to give you a h-hernia.”
Despite her fear, despite her panic, she was trying to make a joke.
She was one gutsy gal.
Once he had her in the car, he slid behind the wheel and started the engine. As he backed out, her sharp intake of breath told him another contraction was beginning. He glanced at his watch before pulling onto the main road.
“Kelsey, I want you to picture a rosebud and I want you to imagine it opening one petal at a time while you take some deep breaths.”
“Okay.” The word came out in a gasp.
“All right. Take in a long, slow breath through your nose to the count of five, hold it five, let it out through your mouth in five. Here we go.” He kept tabs on her shadowy figure in the backseat as he counted, repeating the process over and over until the contraction ended. Sixty-two seconds.
She was definitely in the second stage of labor.
“That one was worse.” Her voice hiccupped.
“Have you taken any childbirth classes?” It didn’t much matter at this point, but he wanted to keep her distracted. Focused on something besides the pain and fear.
“I signed up for the evening class. Dorothy and I only made it to the first one. Last week.”
“Dorothy?” He pulled onto I-196 and floored it.
“She was going to be my labor coach.”
Luke couldn’t picture the proper, every-hair-in-place, pearl-wearing older woman in that role. But if that’s who Kelsey wanted… “Would you like me to call her for you?”
No response.
He flicked another look in the rearview mirror. “Kelsey?”
“She’s not…prepared for this.”
Neither was the occupant of his backseat. But he left that unsaid.
“Tell me what you learned in the first class.”
She recounted what she recalled from the session, but halfway through she stopped. “Another one is coming.”
Luke checked his watch. Only four minutes since the last contraction. Things were moving quickly.
Too quickly.
“Okay. We’re going to do the same thing we did the last time.”
Once more, he walked her through the contraction. Wishing he could hold her hand. Absorb some of her pain. Ease her mind about the looming decision she wasn’t yet ready to make.
By the time it ended he was exiting the highway at Holland. “We’re almost there, Kelsey. Try to relax as much as you can.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
He caught the whisper of a tease under the strain in her voice. Good for her.
Although he hadn’t been to the hospital in Holland, he’d driven by it on his way to meetings with potential supporters of the youth center project. And since the streets were deserted at this hour, he made good time. Still, as he pulled into the E.R. entrance, another contraction hit.
After setting the brake, he slid out of the car, opened her door and took her hand. He crouched beside her, half in and half out of the car, and as she took his fingers in a fierce grasp, her features contorted.
“Watch me, Kelsey. Concentrate on my face. Breathe with me.”
Though her eyes were hazy with pain, she hung in with him, doing her best to follow his instructions.
Once it passed, she sagged against the pillow wedged behind her. He brushed her hair away from her damp forehead, then touched her cheek. “I’ll be right back with a wheelchair.”
Without waiting for a reply, he backed out of the car and jogged toward the entrance. They needed to get her to a room and prepped fast. Because, based on the rapid progression of her labor, this baby was coming fast. Very fast.
As Kelsey waited in the car for Luke to return, she was too limp to do more than lie there like a rag doll. But her mind was racing.
All her life she’d been a planner. In both business and personal matters, she’d always thought ahead, prepared for contingencies, done her best to avoid surprises or last-minute decisions.
But she’d blown it with this baby.
Now, under the most stressful circumstances, with pain dulling her usual clear, precise thought processes, she’d have to make a choice about the future of this baby that would affect her future as well. For the rest of her life.
And she wasn’t ready to do that.
The pain was building again, and she pressed her hands against her stomach, bracing.
God, please…show me the way! Help me make the right decision!
Suddenly Luke was beside her again, his voice calm, his gaze steady as he talked her through the contraction. She liked focusing on his face better than picturing an unfurling rose. Those dark brown eyes sucked her in, and she let herself fall into their caring depths, concentrating on the man in front of her and the breathing he was coaching her through.
The instant the pain subsided, though, he stood and motioned to the aide with the wheelchair. With their assistance, she eased into it and was rolled inside.
Whatever Luke had told them when he’d gone to retrieve the wheelchair had galvanized the staff. They didn’t stop at the desk, but headed straight for the birth center. She was wheeled into a private birthing room where a nurse was waiting. The woman already knew Luke was a physician, because she called him Dr. Turner.
Just as the aide rolled her up to the bed, another contraction took hold.
There was a muted, clipped exchange between Luke and the nurse. A moment later he lifted her onto the bed and took her hand, coaching her through the pain again.
When it ended, he moved aside to make room for the nurse.
“Hi, Kelsey. I’m Sandra, and I’ll be with you until this baby decides to arrive. I need to do a preliminary evaluation to see how far along you are, then I’ll check the baby’s heart and help you change into a gown.”
The nurse went to retrieve some latex gloves, and Luke released her hand and stepped back. “I’ll wait outside.”
As he turned away, panic clawed at Kelsey’s throat. “Luke!”
At her call, he angled back toward her.
She bunched the sheet in her fingers, torn. She shouldn’t ask him to stay. He had things to do. The baby wasn’t his. In fact, her child was a stumbling block to their relationship.
But she desperately needed his gentle touch. His quiet confidence. His steady support. Without it, she didn’t know how she’d get through the next few hours.
As if reading her mind, he moved to the foot of the bed. “Would you like me to stay until the baby is born, Kelsey?”
“Yes.” Warmth and gratitude spilled out of her heart as she whispered the response.
“Then I’ll be here.”
The nurse returned to the bed and glanced at him. “Give us five minutes.”
With a nod, he exited.
She missed him immediately.
Sandra chatted with her during the exam and while she helped her change, assuring her the baby was doing fine. But Kelsey’s mind wasn’t on that conversation. It was on the kind, compassionate army doctor who had taken up residence next door—and in her heart.
A man who might be poised to play a starring role in her future.
Yet much could depe
nd on the momentous decision she faced. A decision that had been thrust on her far sooner than anticipated. Nor was this the way she’d planned to make it—under stress and in crisis mode. But as she well knew, her plans didn’t always mesh with God’s.
All she could do was put herself in His hands and pray for wisdom and guidance in the hours to come.
Chapter Fourteen
Hands in the pockets of his jeans, Luke paced the hall outside Kelsey’s room, waiting for the nurse to summon him back inside. After the bombshell she’d dropped last evening, he hadn’t managed to clock more than two hours of sleep. Instead, he’d spent the dark hours tossing as he’d grappled with the implications of the choice before her—and prayed she’d make the one that would clear the path for their friendship to transition to something deeper.
Because as the long night had dragged by minute by agonizing minute, he’d become more and more convinced he could never accept as his own the child she carried. Every time he looked at her son and daughter he’d think of the man who’d brutalized the woman who was stealing his heart. That, in turn, would lead to feelings of anger and resentment instead of love. Feelings a child could pick up. And he feared Kelsey would have the same problem.
All of which had convinced him that everyone would be best served if the child was adopted by a couple who had no baggage and could offer the baby the unconditional love it deserved.
The only bright spot in his long night had been the hope that in the month before the child was born, he could persuade Kelsey to see the logic of his reasoning.
But now that opportunity had been snatched from him. The baby was coming and Kelsey would be forced to make her decision under less than ideal circumstances.
He closed his eyes and wearily propped a shoulder against the wall.
Why, Lord?
The silent question echoed in his mind, unanswered, leaving him confused, bereft and frustrated. He tried to find some redeeming value in the situation, but if there was any, it eluded him. He hadn’t a clue why the Lord would bring a woman like Kelsey into his life, then set up roadblocks on the path to romance.
“You look like you could use some caffeine.”
He turned, and a smiling aide extended a disposable cup of coffee toward him. Considering the day’s worth of stubble on his face, his uncombed hair and his stained T-shirt, he figured that was a gross understatement.
“Thank you.” He reached for it and took a gulp of the strong brew.
“Long night?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this your first?”
He blinked, uncomprehending for a moment. Then her meaning registered. “I’m not the father. I’m a…friend.”
If the misstep embarrassed the woman, she didn’t let on. “Friends are good, too. Sometimes more helpful than fathers, to be honest. A lot of them are basket cases.” She winked and motioned toward a doorway behind her. “There’s a pot of coffee in there if you need more.”
“Thanks.”
With a nod, she headed down the hall.
“Dr. Turner?” The nurse stuck her head out of the door behind him. “Kelsey needs her coach.”
Downing another swig of the hot brew, he followed the woman back inside.
Even before he checked the readout from the sensor that had been attached to Kelsey’s stomach, he knew this contraction was bad. She was gasping, every muscle taut, and her grip was crushing as he set his coffee on the bedside table and took her hand.
“I’m here, Kelsey.” He got up close to her face. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at my eyes. We’ll breathe together.”
She tried. Hard. He could see the effort she was making to focus on him. But it was becoming more difficult for her to distance herself from the pain.
By the time the contraction ended, she was shaking and shivering.
Smoothing the hair away from her forehead as she collapsed against the pillow, he spoke to the nurse. “How far along is she?”
“The cervix is anterior and seventy-five percent effaced. It’s at seven centimeters.”
“Have you called her OB?”
“I’m going to do that now.”
“She could use a warm blanket.”
“On my list.”
As the woman exited, Kelsey opened her eyes. “Wow.” The word came out in a weak rush of breath.
“You’re doing great.” He leaned closer and touched her cheek again. “But if you want an epidural, we need to move fast. You’re already past the usual stage for one. As it is, they might have to use a spinal block.”
Her brow wrinkled. “What do you think I should do?”
He was tempted to tell her to go for it. Watching her suffer was eating at his gut. But professionally, he had a different opinion.
“This isn’t my specialty, Kelsey. But there are potential complications with pain medication—for both you and the baby. Your blood pressure could drop without warning, which would affect blood flow to the baby. Pushing will be more difficult, so forceps may have to be used. Sometimes a doctor will have to go the cesarean route. And there are other issues—all relatively rare, but real. It comes down to how well you think you can hold up.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “How much longer could this go on?”
“The rule of thumb is one centimeter an hour. You have three to go. But you’re progressing a lot faster than that. Unusual for a first baby, but not unheard of.”
“How fast?”
“You’re very close to the transition phase. That’s the most intense part of labor. The contractions will be coming faster and stronger.”
“Wow.”
The monitor caught his eye, and he took her hand again. “Here comes another one. Get ready.”
Luke talked her through the contraction, wondering what she would decide about pain medication, prepared to support her whatever her choice.
But in the end, the decision was taken out of her hands.
Over the next fifteen minutes, her contractions started coming every two minutes and lasting more than a minute. She had little chance to recover in between. Her OB arrived, Kelsey was prepped for delivery, and after an intense period of pushing, the baby’s head, topped with damp blond hair, crowned.
She was panting now, under his direction, her focus on the mirror positioned so she could see her baby’s arrival. Luke found himself mesmerized, too. The forehead appeared. The nose. The mouth. The chin. The shoulders emerged, one at a time.
And then, with one final push, the baby slid into the doctor’s waiting hands.
“You have a daughter, Kelsey.” As the doctor passed on the news, she suctioned the baby’s mouth and nasal passages.
Kelsey was still clinging to his hand, shaking, and Luke squeezed her fingers, motioning to the nurse. “We need another warm blanket.”
Seconds later, the woman handed him one and he draped it over Kelsey.
“It’s a girl, Luke.” Her voice was filled with awe, her face awash with the wonder of the miracle they’d just witnessed.
He smoothed back her hair. “I know.”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s fine, Kelsey.” The OB spoke from the foot of the bed. “On the small side, but looking good. Do you want to cut the cord?”
“No. I—I’m too shaky.”
The doctor took care of the procedure as she continued talking. “After we check her out you can hold her. Meanwhile, we’ve still got to deliver the placenta. Hang in there for another few minutes, okay?”
Luke doubted Kelsey even heard the doctor’s last comment. Her attention was riveted on the tiny bundle of life the nurse was weighing and measuring a few feet away. The new arrival was waving her fists and already displaying an impressive set of lungs as she howled in protest about leaving the warm cocoon that had been her safe, protected haven for almost eight months.
“Why is she crying?” Kelsey tensed, straining to get a better view of the baby. “Is something wrong?”
“No. S
he’s just announcing her arrival,” Dr. Evans responded. “But we’ll have a neonatal specialist check her out after you two say hello.”
“Four-point-eight pounds, seventeen inches,” the nurse announced as she picked up the squalling baby and moved next to Kelsey. “Okay, Mom, here we go.”
Bending over Kelsey, the woman positioned the kicking baby on her stomach. After covering the tiny infant with a warm blanket, she tugged a pink cap over the damp, golden ringlets, leaving a few curls to peek out.
Luke heard Kelsey’s breath catch as she looked at the baby. Reaching out a tentative hand, she stroked a trembling finger down the infant’s spindly arm, which was more bone than flesh at this stage of development. Big blue eyes, fringed by thick lashes clumped with tears, stared back at her. Then the baby grabbed Kelsey’s finger with a tiny fist and held tight. A few moments later, her sobs morphed into snuffles. She stopped quivering and lay on Kelsey’s stomach, quietly watching her mom.
As Luke transferred his gaze from the baby to Kelsey, the air whooshed out of his lungs. The serenity of her expression, the absolute peace in her eyes, told him she’d made her decision.
There was no way she was giving up this baby.
Even if that meant there was no future for them.
She was beautiful. Perfect. Sweetness incarnate.
And a gift from God.
As her baby held tight to her finger, Kelsey realized her prayers had been answered. She’d asked for guidance about what to do with this baby. Had worried she’d never be able to love this child, the product of a brutal crime. But all along God had known that once she laid eyes on the daughter who had grown within her, she’d never be able to let her go. Maybe that’s why He’d let her come early—to save Kelsey the agony of wrestling with a decision that was so clear-cut in hindsight.
“Does this little lady have a name, Mom?” Sandra smiled at Kelsey.
Dr. Evans looked up, as if to intervene. Her OB knew the story of the baby’s conception, knew Kelsey had been thinking about putting her child up for adoption. But Kelsey answered first.
“Yes, she does. It’s Grace. Grace Elizabeth.”