A Family Worth Fighting For (The Worthy Series Book 3)
Page 14
Jessie immediately removes her hand from my arm and gazes around the room. I can tell she’s thinking and I fight the urge to ask her to spill her thoughts. She quietly turns and walks across the room, sits down in the rocking chair, folds her hands over her stomach and starts rocking slowly. Her face is expressionless, which is only making me more and more nervous. It seems like eternity has passed before she looks back up at me.
“I hadn’t really ever considered that it would come to that. I’ve just always had the faith that God would provide one of our own. That He would heal me when it is time for us to be the family He has meant for us to be.” Her gaze falls to her stomach and her hand starts rubbing circles over her belly, creating a pit in my stomach that isn’t very pleasant.
“It’s kind of a big decision to make and although I know it’s not necessarily true, a small part of me says that by doing so, it would be a slap to the face of God. Like we could be showing God that we don’t trust Him enough to do what we’re asking Him to do.” She looks back up at me. “I mean, there’s clearly a reason as to why we haven’t gotten pregnant yet. I have been thinking about that a lot, actually.
“I mean, what if we aren’t ready to be the type of parents He wants us to be. Or what if we’re supposed to find a bigger house to bring a family home to or something. I just…”
She pauses and I want to argue that it could be if we had already gotten pregnant, we wouldn’t have felt the need to come on this trip and met the baby who so desperately needs our help. But I don’t.
“I just don’t know,” she finally says a moment later.
A thousand other argumentative statements come to mind, calling the lawyer in me to attention, but I fight the urge to persuade her.
“I don’t want you to think I’m trying to pressure you into something that you feel is against His plan for our lives, but can I ask you to think about it? We can pray about it, search the Bible for what it has to say about your concerns. We can talk everything out.” She finally looks up at me and although there are no tears, I know that the struggle to be open minded about it all is tearing her up inside. Not having the guts to watch her go through this, I look down at Baby Dauphine who’s sleeping peacefully through all this. My next words come out before I can stop them. “But I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you I’m feeling the conviction of adopting myself.”
I look back up to find her fragile eyes on me and I brace myself for tears. They don’t come, but she nods expressionlessly before focusing on the floor again.
Knowing that if I continue to watch Jessie, I’ll want to force her to talk out her concerns with me, I turn back to Baby Dauphine. Her tiny fingers have escaped her carefully wrapped swaddle and have curled around my little finger again. I watch her chest rise and fall oh so carefully.
Oh Father, please don’t let Jessie take too long. We don’t have much time left here and this precious angel of yours needs to know how much I care about her.
Shocked I just admitted that, my eyes fly open and I see the tiniest of smiles over the sleeping baby.
I think she already knows.
I don’t want to walk away from her, but the air in the nursery is starting to feel thick and I feel that if Jessie stares any harder at me and the baby, I’d start to feel holes being drilled into my body.
The air outside isn’t much better and the sky is starting to darken, the hint of a storm on its way. The bus pulls up in front of the clinic and stops. Marci quickly climbs out of it looking on edge.
“Weather’s about to get bad. I’ve got a small load of supplies for the school, do you know where everyone is?” She doesn’t slow down to wait for me as she approaches the back of the bus and unlocks the door.
“The girls are all in the clinic. I think Eric and Adam were working in the garden. I’ll round the girls up.”
“Okay great. I’ll send Serge for the boys. After everything’s loaded, you’ll want to stay inside. The tent should be fine, but if you want more secure shelter, you’re welcome to go to the school.” I look up at the sky one last time and step back inside to get the girls.
***
By the time I’m able to get everyone out to help with the school supplies, Marci has sent one of the local boys after Adam and Eric. The girls and I are able to get everything to the school and Adam and Eric are able to join us with some blankets in the classroom before the rain starts pouring. It takes Eric checking in with me before I realize Jessie isn’t with us.
“You both okay?” Eric asks while handing me a blanket.
I look around the room, not seeing her anywhere. My heart starts racing until the back door opens and Jessie steps in drenched, carrying something against her chest.
I make my way over, forgetting about Eric, and find her unwrapping a blanket from around her Bible. She gives me a weak smile as she wraps the semi damp blanket around her shoulders.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thought I’d do some reading while we’re cooped up.” She gives me a small smile before walking around me toward a corner of the room. She stacks a couple of chairs up and moves them out of the way so she can slide down the wall and sit on the floor. I watch as she adjusts the blanket around her shoulders, props her Bible on her bent knees and starts reading.
I carefully approach her, not sure what’s going on beneath that quiet façade she has.
“Mind if I join you?” I ask quietly. She inhales deeply and looks up at me with expressionless eyes.
“I really think I need some time.”
Without another word, she turns back to her Bible and doesn’t say another word to me for the rest of the night.
Chapter Eighteen
~Jessie~
“The timing couldn’t have been more perfect,” Anita’s proud voice crackles over the line in the clinic. “His surgery went without a hitch and he’s in recovery now.”
“That’s fantastic news. I can’t wait to tell the girls.”
“The doctor seems really proud that he was able to help too. He said all too often he sees problems like this get out of hand here. I told him about how you worked to get Francis and his family here and was able to testify about how God likes to work in the ways He does. The doctor is a non-believer, Jessie. He has been really questioning how Francis is doing so well without the help of some divine intervention. Had you not pushed the matter, he wouldn’t be asking the questions he is, Jessie. Excellent job, sweetie.”
Tears threaten my eyes as I think about how God really needed me to overcome my sense of helplessness to put Francis and Anita in front of this doctor. I can’t help the feeling of pride swelling inside of me as the understanding of what God has set in motion through me starts to sink in.
From my seat at the desk, I see movement in the nursery and I wonder if Stephen is in watching Baby Dauphine again. A twinge of pain strikes through my heart as I think about his request. I ignore it for now.
“Francis’s parents want me to thank you again for finding this doctor.” Anita’s voice brings me back to my phone conversation.
“Oh. Please tell them they are welcome, but just keep reminding them who really did all the work.”
“I will. They are sad they won’t be seeing you before you guys go home. His mother hugs me every time we talk about you, so I think she wants to hug you again.” She chuckles. “Anyway, I’m going to find a snack around here. This kid is a hungry little thing.” I imagine her gently patting her bulging stomach as she says that. The mental image makes me smile.
“Please, be careful, Anita. And thank you so much for everything. I’m sad I won’t get to see you guys either before we leave. But I’ll continue to pray for Francis’s recovery and your pregnancy and your work here. You truly are a blessing to this organization. Please promise you’ll keep in touch?”
“Absolutely. And good luck, Jessie. I know He’s got big plans for you guys. Just trust in His timing because it’s always perfect, even if we think it isn’t.”
“You’re welcome. Goodbye, Jessie.”
“Goodbye, Anita.”
I hang up the phone and stand, stretching my arms above my head, feeling the effects of sleeping on a cot for the last couple of weeks. I rub a shoulder as I step out of the office slash supply room and nearly run into Stephen as he comes out of the nursery.
“Hey. Are you okay?” he asks, nodding at my aching shoulder.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can’t say I’m going to miss those dumb cots when we get home.”
Something flares in his eyes and I know what he’s thinking before he even says anything.
“Oh, me neither.” He pulls me into his arms and kisses my neck. I pull away, only causing him to squeeze me closer and me to laugh. “Walk with me?” he asks, taking my hand.
“Sure. Where to?”
“I thought we could take a stroll around the village.”
We pass both doctors on our way out of the building and Dr. Martinez gives us a look like we’re a couple of teenagers cutting class to sneak behind the bleachers. He offers Stephen a high-five and I’m only able to shake my head at them.
We step out into the warm afternoon and take off toward the heart of the village. The storm the other day caused some roof damage so Aubrey, Adam and Eric rallied a small troop of natives and are working on three different roofs at the same time. We get waves from several familiar faces as Stephen and I walk hand in hand through the maze of mud homes.
“I’m kind of feeling guilty that we get to leave tomorrow and return to our air-conditioned home where food is a phone call away and doing laundry means throwing it in a machine to do all the work,” I say as we approach the community garden.
Several girls from the school are out helping Alex and Rowan with picking some vegetables. The group laughs loudly and the worry-free looks on each of their faces makes me feel even guiltier.
“Look at how happy they are. They don’t even realize how much better it is anywhere else.”
“I think they do. I don’t think there is a girl out there that doesn’t dream of something about their life that is easier or more convenient. They may dream of nicer clothes or trying foods that are different from what they get here. Everyone dreams and hopes for something more,” Stephen says.
His words hit a little too close to home for me. We’ve been here for two weeks. We’ve lived in a dusty, dirty tent. We’ve eaten way less than five-star quality food. We’ve slept in stiff cots that don’t allow for more than one person at a time. I realize how much easier my life is to anyone here. And I still want more. The guilt I have from that thought has me dreading the return to my reality again.
“Hey, where are you right now?” He stops and stands in front of me, cupping my face.
“A million miles away.” The remorse weighs my face down and makes me want to stare at my feet. I feel a light kiss on my forehead and arms wrap around my waist as my eyes close.
We stand in the middle of the dirt path holding onto one another for Lord only knows how long before Stephen steps back, takes my hand and leads us on. I watch moms sweep their dirty stone foundation floors with homemade brooms and kids play in the dried up muddy patch, kicking balls with worn out shoes. A couple of kids sit on the steps of their homes hunched over thin books while the older generation hangs out wet clothing to dry in the afternoon sun. Everyone smiles at us as we walk by. And each smile weighs my heart down more and more.
This is the life I feel like I deserve to be living. Not the privileged one in the States. Guilt and shame have me feeling unworthy of the blessings I have. Tears sting my eyes as we walk hand in hand in silence.
Somehow we find our way back at the clinic. Stephen steps in and guides me back toward the nursery. I know who we’re going to see and I’m not sure I’m ready to face her yet.
I feel the only anchor I have slip away when Stephen lets go of my hand as we walk through the nursery door. He quietly goes to Baby Dauphine and picks her up.
Her tiny body responds to the security of his hands, her little fists stretching to the sky as she arches her back and sticks her little bottom out. When he pulls her to his shoulder, she nuzzles his neck and pulls her tiny arms and legs in under her and gets cozy on his chest. He turns and walks to the rocking chair, carefully sitting and rocking Baby Dauphine quietly and humming quietly.
“Mom called earlier. The three adoptive families are in the works to make their first visit and two more families have made official commitments to start the process.” I watch him close his eyes and quietly rock the baby as she sleeps on his chest.
“That’s fantastic news.” I fight the tears that I know are coming.
“It is.”
I know he wants to talk about adopting, but I’m still not ready to make a decision yet. I’ve spent just about every waking second of the last two days sorting through my feelings about adopting and I still feel just as confused about it as I did the second he brought it up.
“Jessie—“
“I don’t know yet,” I blurt out, wiping away the unshed tears, not really even sure if that’s what he wants to talk about or not. “I promise I haven’t been ignoring your question. I honestly can’t stop thinking about it. But I can’t give you a firm yes or no right now.”
My eyes have found the floor again, feeling a heavy weight on my shoulders knowing I’m letting him down. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He does stop rocking the baby and stands up. He steps closer to me, but I just can’t look into his eyes right now. I know what I’ll find there, and the idea that I’m hurting him in any way shatters my heart into a million pieces.
“Her medical expenses are being partially sponsored, but she will need a lifetime of blood counts. If she stays here, she is highly susceptible to infections that could cause her serious problems. No one wants to take her in because her needs are long term. She won’t thrive here, Jessie. She’ll be lucky to survive.”
I finally look up at him and I see the anger and pain I expected to see etched across his face. I also see the desperation in his eyes and the fact that I can’t relieve the fear he has for this tiny baby pains me the most.
“I understand all that, Stephen. I just—“
“Seriously, Jessie?!” His voice starts to rise to a level I’m not familiar with. “Can you please stop thinking about yourself, just this once, and have some compassion for somebody else?”
His words sting like a slap across the face. He’s never once said or done anything remotely as cruel as that to me. His eyes widen as the reality of what he just said out loud sinks in and he reaches for me and starts to apologize.
“Jessie, I’m—“
“No, don’t.” I feel my blood starting to boil and the pressure of the regret I have does nothing to defuse the situation. “I thought you understood what I’m going through. But clearly you don’t. I fully understand what leaving this defenseless child here means, Stephen. Don’t think for a second that doesn’t weigh on me. But has it ever occurred to you that even if we were to take her home, I could be a horrible mother to her. You know what I want more than anything. I could resent her because she’d just be a Band-Aid to a much bigger problem. I could be doing her more harm than good.”
“If this is about you being afraid of being a terrible mother—“
“This has nothing to do with me being afraid I’ll be a terrible mother and everything to do with me being the mother she needs. It’s not just about being able to provide for her medically or being financially responsible for her, Stephen.
“Have you even thought about that, by the way? Are you mentally and emotionally prepared for everything being a father to her could take? Not just being a daddy who plays princess and goes to dance recitals. But being a daddy who has to watch her struggle for her next breath. A daddy that although he could probably afford the world for her, he can’t buy the pain aw
ay from her, but has to watch her and hold her hand while she goes through it anyway?
“Are you strong enough to do that, Stephen? Because I’m not sure I am. So no, I’m not just thinking about myself here, Stephen. I don’t know if I can take this incredibly precious and tenderly sweet child home with me because at the end of the day, I just don’t know if I can be strong enough to put aside what I want for what she needs.”
I don’t wait to for his responses to my mostly rhetorical questions. I know that I’ve probably woken up the whole clinic and half the village with our little spat, so I keep my head down and start walking without really paying attention to where I’m going. I nearly run into several people, but I just keep moving, afraid that if I stop, someone will demand something else of me that I’m just not able to give right now.
I spent every possible second since Stephen approached the subject scouring my Bible trying to figure out if saying yes to adopting would be jumping the gun on God’s plan in our lives. But at the end of the day I realized that that was just an excuse. I walked this small community not an hour ago with shame and guilt in my heart because I want more from the overly abundant life I’ve already been blessed with. How can I honestly consider bringing in a child who has lived here, having known the hardships of this place, back to my home and cry every night like I did for the first six months of my marriage because she’s not the baby I wanted. How selfish is that? But he’s asking me to be that selfish.
I don’t realize I’ve stopped walking until I find myself in the now empty community garden. I’ve never noticed these purple flowers along the edge of the tilled ground until now. In light of my surroundings, the dry, mudded homes and the too big clothing draped over narrow bodies, in such a brown and gray world, these little purple petals seem so extravagant. I’m in awe that given the environment, they thrive so well.
God can do great things, Jessie. Create color in a dreary world. Give the seemingly weak strength…