Kay was blinking fast. She had braced herself for a rough struggle, but it all seemed so unreal to her at this moment. Still, she was clear-headed enough to realize that this was neither the time nor the place to settle the matter. She hesitated and, ignoring Steve, she asked the doctor, “And how long is it before you have to have an answer from us?”
“Well, your serious problems will not begin for several weeks yet. After that, there will have to be constant vigilance, on your part and on mine. Every change in your condition will require an appropriate response. We will take nothing for granted. You will need to notify me of even the slightest change. And you should also know that if you decide not to carry the baby to term, we will need to perform a therapeutic abortion within the next month to six weeks, to minimize the risk to you.”
“Then we shall take it home for at least a week before we give you our decision,” Kay stated flatly.
Steve was about to object when, glancing at his wife, he bowed his head and nodded his agreement.
“Can we make an appointment for next week at this time?” he inquired.
“Certainly.”
As they were getting up to leave, Dr. Pederson rose from his desk, walked over to them, and laid one hand on a shoulder of each of them.
“As a physician I can only present the facts in a case like this and leave the decision to you. And one of the facts in this case is that we have right here in St. Mark two diabetic women who have given birth to babies recently, one of whom experienced some complications in the delivery and recovery. Her name is Lena Nyberg. She was thirty-five years old at childbirth and has a seven-month-old tot. She lives with her husband and son in the last house on the left on Oak Street as you leave town.
“And as a friend I can only say, may God be with you!”
Kay looked up at the tall physician and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Yes, thank you,” echoed Steve vacantly.
And they left for home.
XIX
On their way out of the doctor’s office, Kay said with some conviction, “Even before we discuss it, we should get all the facts in front of us. We need to pay Mrs. Nyberg and her son a visit.”
“And Mr. Nyberg too, if we can catch him at home.”
For Steve, this visit was a long shot, a mere protocol. His mind was closed to any alternative but taking the safest way out of the mess they had got themselves into. For eleven years virtually everything that made life worth living for him had been enshrined in his Kay, wrapped up in that precious little body of hers. Now they had carelessly undone eleven years of diligent self-discipline, and the only course of action that made any sense to him was to fix the problem, not to cave in to it.
But because he loved her so much, he was vulnerable to her pleading eyes and to those flashes of ecstasy that lit up her face at the most unexpected moments. They took the heart right out of him. Her persuasive tone of voice and her quiet confidence when she spoke of their baby were impossible to dismiss. It was not easy for him to stand up to her, particularly since she cherished the notion that this baby was her present to him, well worth any risk to herself. Even before the day was over, Steve came to appreciate fully the terrible price a therapeutic abortion would exact from her. But what choice did they really have? He shrank back in horror from the thought of a future without her. Good sense would have to prevail. He must remain inflexible.
In consenting to visit the Nybergs, Steve did not consider that he was giving in an inch to Kay’s agenda. But he had to agree that it was only fair to exhaust every angle before making their decision. In the end he would remain firm and clear-headed.
Two days after their appointment with Dr. Pederson, they pulled up in front of the Nyberg home. “I’d love to show you our little Jimmy,” Lena had exclaimed over the phone when Kay called and explained the reason for their request. “If you come at 3:30 tomorrow, he should be waking up from his nap. And I’ll see if Larry can be here then too.”
Kay was so worked up when they arrived at the Nyberg residence that she could hardly sit still. Mrs. Nyberg answered the door with a half-dressed Jimmy in her arms. “He just woke up,” she tenderly explained. “He’ll be a little owlish for a few minutes, but you won’t mind if I finish dressing him in front of you here in the living room, will you?”
“Oh no,” assured Kay, already taken in by the child’s big blue eyes which he was clumsily rubbing with two sleep-drugged little fists.
They all sat down in the living room, Mrs. Nyberg in a large upholstered chair and the Pearsons opposite her on an old-fashioned davenport.
At thirty-six, Lena was an attractive woman, just an inch or two taller than Kay and perhaps fifteen pounds heavier. Her complexion was dark and her face was a bit more lined than usual for a woman of her age. But she radiated youthfulness as she bounced her beautiful baby on her knees. You could tell that she loved showing him off.
Jimmy was a doll, to be sure. In about five minutes his big blue eyes were twinkling playfully and he was amusing himself with his mother’s wristwatch. Then he cocked his round slightly oversized head topped with a thick frosting of curly blond hair and rocked back and forth in his mother’s arms as if to say, Down, down.
“Yes,” Mrs. Nyberg said, laughing. “Once they start crawling, nothing is safe. You learn to put all movables out of reach. My husband, Larry, is an electrician. He fixed up the sockets so Jimmy can’t stick his finger in them.”
She stopped and watched the little tyke crawl awkwardly lickety-split across the rug after a ball. “They do keep you on your toes,” she added, shaking her head.
Both the gracious woman and the energetic baby had won Kay over and even Steve could not help but feel happy for this woman. The scene reminded Kay of something out of the various Madonna and Child paintings of Raphael. The more she watched Lena and baby Jimmy, the more she pictured herself and her own roly-poly bundle of life in their place.
“You wouldn’t trade him for anything, would you!”
“We certainly wouldn’t.” Lena glanced out the window over their shoulders. “Here comes Larry now, just pulling into the driveway.”
Moments later the Pearsons stood up to meet him.
“Larry, this is Professor Pearson and his wife, Kay.”
“Steve,” said the professor, extending his hand to Larry, a tall blond Swede of about forty years of age, attired in work clothes.
Larry took a seat near his wife and everyone sat down again.
“Lena tells me you are facing the same thing we were facing a little over a year ago—an unexpected pregnancy and all the risks that go with it for a very diabetic woman.”
“That’s exactly it,” nodded Steve.
“Well, we weighed all the factors as best we could. I was very hesitant. We had a good marriage even without children. I was quite prepared to keep it that way if it meant risking my Lena’s life. But in the end the decision had to be hers, one way or another. I couldn’t see myself forcing my will on her. And the rest is history.”
“Was it really difficult, I mean the actual pregnancy, labor, and delivery?” Kay asked, leaning forward.
“Yes, I’d have to say it was.” replied Lena. “Once I’d made up my mind to go ahead with it, Larry supported me all the way. We went ahead and trusted in the Lord. Frankly, when our baby started to show, Larry strutted around here proud as a peacock. ‘That’s our son or daughter in there,’ he’d keep saying, patting me on the belly. The last six months of my pregnancy were touch and go with my insulin dosage all the way to the end when I didn’t have to take any insulin at all. I felt real good then, considering. The ordeal began when I went into labor, but most of the time I was so groggy I didn’t know what was happening.”
“Was that from the anesthetics or from loss of blood?” Steve wanted to know.
“At first it was the anesthetics they gave me, but later it was also loss of blood. The child-bearing itself was not much different from usual, I was told
. Once they’ve got your baby, you’ve just got to trust them to fix you both up as quick as they can. There isn’t nothing you can do but hope and pray. It’s in their hands and in the Lord’s hands then.”
“It must be a comfort to know how skilled those hands are,” Kay added swiftly.
“It is. You keep telling yourself, when you’re clear enough to think at all, ‘They know what they’re doing. They’ve done it all before.’ The one doctor quick goes to work with a team and operates on the baby before the pancreas can hurt him, and the other doctor and a whole lot of nurses flock around you to stop the bleeding and give you transfusions and figure out how much insulin you need. It took me about four months before I began to feel myself again. But, you know, the whole thing teaches you an awful lot. It’s brought Larry and me even closer together. And after what we went through for Jimmy, I think we have both learned a lot about what it means to love….”
Dreamily she looked at her labor of love creeping over the floor toward Steve’s legs. “He’s given Larry and me a whole new lease on life. Nine years we were married before Jimmy came. They were good years, but nothing like the last seven months.”
The little tyke was grabbing hold of Steve’s trouser legs with his fists and trying to pull himself up. “Here, let me help you,” offered the amused and slightly flattered professor.
“Isn’t he awfully precocious for seven months?” Kay marveled.
“That’s what they tell us,” chimed in Larry, beaming with pride.
But the little fellow was too wobbly-kneed to stand without support, so Steve reached down and braced him behind his back. In so doing, he leaned over and his necktie brushed across Jimmy’s face. Jimmy giggled and gooed gleefully, throwing his arms around in the air chasing the soft swinging stripe of color. Now Steve was supporting him entirely.
“All right, then,” he chuckled. “Come on up.”
With that he hoisted the baby onto his knee and gave him the end of his tie to play with.
“Gaa, gaa, gaa, gaa, gaa,” cooed Jimmy, stuffing the tie into his mouth. Steve extracted it before he could gnaw on it and dangled it above and behind and beside him in a variation of hide-and-go-seek.
Yes, Larry and Lena were truly blessed, Steve mused. Fine simple folk that they were, Jimmy was just the thing for them. But he and Kay had other things to make their lives worthwhile.
Kay, meanwhile, had made up her mind while listening to their story and observing Steve’s response to the child’s ingenuous attentions. Destiny had charged her with bringing this joy into the life of the great man she loved, and great joy would also be hers in doing it! This was Steve’s one chance, risks and all, to procreate the goodness he was stunned to find in such short supply in the world. How could he in good conscience turn away from it?
About then Jimmy grew fidgety and restless. He wanted to get down, but whimpered when Steve set him on the rug.
“What he needs is his bottle,” declared Lena with the authority of experience. “I have one ready for him in the kitchen. Would you like to feed him?” she inquired of Kay.
“I’d love to.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
She left the room. Kay nestled in close to Steve and beamed up at him. He took one look at her, drew a deep breath, and lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if to say, Oh, good grief!
“Lena wanted to nurse our baby,” Larry noted, “but her recovery process was too long and complicated to allow it. The bottle has one advantage. Dad can do his share of the feeding too, and I do, especially at night.”
By that time Lena had returned with the bottle. Gently Kay took Jimmy in her arms and offered him the nipple. He went for it eagerly and settled back in her arms in perfect contentment. The quiet rhythmic “tk, tk, tk, tk, tk, tk, tk, tk” of his sucking filled the room. His blue eyes rolled around wide open, unsuspiciously surveying his spectators as he dined. Kay’s heart was pounding at the feel of little Jimmy pressed against her bosom. Even now a little treasure much like Jimmy was forming in her womb. And it would stay there!
Steve was not unmoved by the maternal love expressing itself so beautifully at his side. In that instant, his objections seemed downright foolish to him, face to face with the blissful impulses with which the God of Nature has endowed every normal woman. But, he told himself, there are many beautiful things in life that we simply cannot have. And this is one of them!
Even so, when his wife looked up at him, her eyes glistening with hope and joy, his heart melted. This feels like a losing battle, he told himself. But it can’t be.
XX
That night the showdown came. It had to. Kay would have burst if it hadn’t. Her emotional pitch was so high that Steve realized there was no putting it off.
Washing supper dishes, she let two of them slip through her unsteady fingers and crash to the floor. In spite of himself, Steve couldn’t help but smile. “The dear things that make up a woman,” he whispered loud enough for her to hear as he gathered up the fragments from every end of the kitchen floor. This reminded him of the day they first “ran into each other” and he had scrambled around to gather up off the ground what she had dropped due to the impact.
But it was Kay who now, on her own, picked up the thread of that thought and said, Alles was ich fallen lasse, dass nimmst du immer auf, du lieber Mensch, du! (“Still trying to pick up the things I’m always dropping, you dear man, you.”)
As she watched his steady hands gather up the broken pieces, she saw in her mind’s eye the trembling hands of the man in coveralls she had taken for an itinerant worker, scrambling around in the leaves beneath the maple trees. That man had seemed so much older than this man, though this one was now bereft of all dark hair. What had made all the difference was the rebirth of hope in him and the impetus it had given him to apply his genius to something he could truly believe in.
That this man should never become a father would be a crime against humanity, she told herself, and I’ve had eleven years to know what I am talking about. He’d be the last one to see it, but having his son or daughter in my womb is like having a bright light for this dark world right here inside me.
“Steve,” she said simply. “Don’t you see why we must have the child I am carrying?”
Steve emptied the shards into the waste basket and stood up straight. He looked at her face, strained with the certainty of her irresistible logic, and shook his head.
“And why is it now ‘must’?”
But Kay was too full and her voice was too near the breaking point to answer him properly. So she just stood there looking at him, blinking hard and nodding slowly up and down before turning back to the last of the dishes. When she was done, Steve moved up to her and gently took hold of her upper arms, turning her around. Then he took her hand in his.
“Come on now, Love. Let’s go into the living room and work this out together right now. We can’t go on this way. Come on.”
Tears were streaming down Kay’s cheeks in earnest. Tenderly Steve led her into the living room and seated her on one end of their loveseat davenport, seating himself almost beside her on the other end, but facing her.
“My darling,” he began. “Can’t you see that it would be insane for a woman of your age and in your condition of health to place your life—and your husband’s life—in such jeopardy? For eleven years of happy married life we have worked so diligently to avoid exactly this dreadful prospect, and now just because of a moment of reckless weakness on my part, should our motives be any different?”
“Yes, Steve, we have been happy together. I can’t imagine how I could have been happier for these eleven years than by being your wife. And you were wonderful to go to all the trouble right from the start to figure out how we could make love safely several times a month without risking my health. But that was eleven years ago. There were no Lena Nybergs back then. What happened to her and Larry was unimaginable back then. But now it has become a priceless blessing even more available to us than it was to
them a year ago. It is one of those peacetime miracles of science that you have been inspiring your students to strive for year after year. What was impossible eleven years ago is almost routine now, they tell us. In view of this, how can you ask me to surrender the holy child, our child, who is within me, our own flesh and blood, at this very moment?”
She unbuttoned two buttons lower down on her blouse and reached over to him. Taking his right hand, she drew it into the opening and held it flush against the skin of her womb in total silence.
“Our flesh and blood,” she whispered.
Minutes passed.
“O my angel,” Steve whispered at last. “You are just too beautiful. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
He moved in closer to her and took her in his left arm. She was holding the palm of his right hand pinned flat against her womb with her left hand.
“You do realize I am fifty-seven years old. What counsel can a seventy-five-year-old father give his troubled teenage daughter? And what are my chances of living long enough to see her or him out on their own?”
“Very good,” responded Kay faintly. She sensed it was “now or never.” It was the moment for her to give it all she had. She braced herself for the impact she knew her words were going to have on Steve, and then she pronounced her judgment on his position.
“Your maturity is all the more reason why we must have this child. Your life has taught you more than most people learn in ten or a hundred lifetimes, and God has endowed you with a matchless mind and heart. Cecilia has shaped you to find true joy in self-giving. So help me, Steve, you owe it to God, to your fellowman, to Cecilia, to me, and to yourself to transmit that God-given mind and heart to your own offspring before you leave this earth. What hope is there for the world if men like you choose to lie fallow while degenerates reproduce their own kind by the millions? It is the offspring of men and women like you and me who are the hope of the world. And now you want to snuff out that hope, that light, before it even has a chance to dawn? What are you doing?”
A Grain of Wheat Page 36