Authors: Beverly LaHaye
Back on Cedar Circle, Cathy and Steve finally found themselves alone after a hectic Christmas Day with all four children, since their father had given up his time with them so he could go skiing for the holidays. Annie had gone out with her boyfriend, and Rick had agreed to work a holiday shift at the grocery store. Tracy had gone to stay with her maternal grandparents.
That had left only Mark at home, until Brenda had come over and invited him to spend the night with Daniel.
“Yeah,” Mark said on a laugh. “Like you really want to spend extra time with me.”
Brenda and Mark hadn’t had any major incidents since the fire, and Cathy cautiously suspected that things had improved.
“Well, I haven’t seen you in a week,” Brenda said. “I don’t want your brain to stagnate during the holidays.”
“So what are we gonna do? Read poetry?”
“No, I rented your favorite movie about that kid with the BB gun.”
“
A Christmas Story?
Oh, Mom, can I? I love that flick, and I haven’t gotten to watch TV in weeks.”
Cathy knew the invitation was designed to give Steve and her time alone. “Brenda, are you sure?”
“Yes,” she insisted. “Daniel got a new computer game he wants to show him, too.”
“You promise you won’t make me do history or anything?” Mark asked, pulling his shoes on.
“On Christmas?” Cathy asked. “Come on, Mark.”
“Hey, Mom, she’s tricky. She had us at the grocery store figuring out price-per-ounce in our heads the other day while we were getting stuff to make gingerbread houses. It took me and Daniel three aisles to figure out it was school.”
“Daniel and me,” Brenda corrected. “I won’t trick you into anything tonight. I promise.”
Cathy packed Mark an overnight bag, then tried to blink back her emotion as he and Brenda left the house together. Cathy watched through the screen door as they crossed the street.
Steve put his arms around her. “Hey, why the tears?”
“Did you see that?” she asked. “They like each other now. They’re voluntarily spending extra time together.”
“It’s all those prayers,” he said. He pulled her to her couch and sat down, still holding her. She felt a greater sense of well-being than she had felt in years.
“So are you finally ready to exchange presents now that all the chaos is behind us?” she asked him.
“I guess so,” he said. “Yeah, I think it’s time.”
She got up, leaned behind the Christmas tree, and grabbed the big, flat present she had wrapped for him. “Be careful,” she said, “it’s fragile.”
He tore into the paper and saw the beautiful portrait she’d taken of Tracy, sitting in Cathy’s office with a kitten to her cheek. She’d had it set in an elaborate gold frame and matted with colors that matched his living room.
He was amazed. “When did you take this?”
“When you were camping with the boys,” she said. “I just thought she looked so precious that I wanted you to have it.”
The rims of his eyes reddened, and he leaned it back against the post. “Well, that just reinforces it.”
“Reinforces what?”
He patted the space next to him. “Come sit down.”
She plopped down on the couch.
“Now it’s my turn,” he said.
She closed her eyes. “I’ll sit here patiently while you go to get it.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to. I’ve been carrying it with me all day.”
Her grin faded, and she opened her eyes. “Carrying what with you?” she asked.
He reached into his jeans pocket and closed his fist around it. “Now, if you don’t want this, promise me you won’t run screaming. Promise you’ll still hang around with me, no hard feelings.”
She couldn’t imagine what it was. “Okay. I promise.”
He opened his hand, revealing a diamond engagement ring. It took her breath away. Her face went slack. “Steve…”
“Cathy, I know it’s not going to be easy with the kids and everything, and maybe we need a long engagement just to prepare everybody…but don’t say no just yet.”
She could feel the blood draining out of her face. “I wasn’t going to say no. I was going to ask you if you were crazy.”
He smiled. “I could say something hokey like, ‘Crazy in love.’ It would be the truth.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Steve…” This time the word came on a rush of awe.
He kept talking, as if to prevent her from turning him down. “Plus I promised the boys that I wouldn’t marry you until they were okay with it…but I never thought I’d feel like this again.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back the tears. “I never thought I would, either,” she whispered.
His mouth trembled at the corners. “I love you, Cathy, and I want you to marry me. I realize we need to take it slow. There’s
a lot to work out. A lot to get ready for. A lot to prepare the kids for.”
“You have no idea how much.” She put her hand over her mouth and began to laugh softly. “You’d be getting the short end of the stick,” she said. “You’d get all my kids, and you’d have to give so much more.”
“And you’d get Tracy,” he said, “and me. I’m as bad as three kids, at least.”
She laughed, but then her expression melted into worry. “But are you sure it’s not just the emotion of Christmas? The festive feeling? The sense of peace on earth and goodwill toward men? Turkey does have that chemical that gives you a sense of tranquility. Maybe it caused minor brain damage. Are you sure you want to commit right now?”
He laughed as if he couldn’t believe she would suggest such a thing. “So I must be brain damaged if I want to marry you?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, this can’t be real.”
“Cathy, I’ve known you were the right one for me since last summer when we were going around putting out flyers on windows for Joseph. I want to marry you. I want to take you on with all your problems and all your kids. Will you even consider it?”
“Will I consider it?” She almost screamed with laughter. “Of course I’ll consider it. Let’s see.” She tapped her face, pretending to consider it. “Okay, I’ve considered it. Yes!”
They both laughed as he slid the ring on. “Look at this ring!” she whispered. “It’s so beautiful.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, and she found herself still chuckling as he did. It wasn’t funny, not at all. But crying didn’t seem right, and her emotions were overflowing. He was grinning, too, as they broke the kiss. They both crumbled into joyful laughter as they basked in the awareness of what they had just done.
In León, Sylvia was beginning to feel better about her time with the baby. God had brought her into her life for a reason, and maybe it had nothing to do with her. Maybe it
was
for the child, who needed someone to care for her while her mother was recovering. She knew she had been an instrument, and she had begun to feel thankful. But the depression didn’t lift entirely until she got the phone call from her daughter in North Dakota. “Mom, you’re going to be a grandma.”
“What?” she asked. “Sarah! You don’t mean—”
“No, not yet,” her daughter said. “I’m not pregnant yet. But we’re ready to start a family. I wanted you to pray for us.”
Her heart shot to the sky, and she realized that even though motherhood wasn’t in her future, grandmotherhood might be, and that was an even better prospect.
“Harry!” she bellowed across the house. “Harry, come quick!”
Harry came running from the other room. “What?” he asked. “What’s going on? What is it?”
“It’s Sarah on the phone!”
“Is she hurt? Is everything okay?”
She was crying and laughing at the same time. “Oh, Harry, they want to start a family.”
He began to laugh with relief that they weren’t in a crisis. “See?” he said. “It’s not over for us yet. God may have babies in our future.”
Together, they hugged and laughed, and Sylvia felt energy and purpose seeping back into her body.
The birth pangs began coming sooner than they were supposed to, in March instead of May. Tory prayed that they would stop, that the baby would have more time to grow and develop. But the contractions kept coming. She had been having the preparatory Braxton-Hicks contractions for the last two months, but these were different. Hard contractions racked her every ten minutes, ripping through Tory’s back and cutting through her abdomen.
“We’ve got to get you to the hospital,” Barry said.
“No, it’s impossible! I’m not due for another two months. It’s too soon.”
“But Tory, you can’t just hold it back. If you’re in labor, the baby is going to come whether you want it to or not.”
“I’m not going,” she cried. “The baby is not ready.”
But then her water broke and the contractions got closer together, and she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. She heard Barry on the phone, talking to the doctor in a panicked voice.
He came running back through the house. Tory was in the clutches of a contraction.
“Honey, the doctor says you need to get in right away. He said that babies with Down’s Syndrome are often premature.”
“Not
this
early!” she shouted.
“Honey, there’s a big danger of infection, since your water’s broken. But if there’s any hope of stopping the contractions, they can do it at the hospital, not here.”
She grabbed his shirt. “Do you think they can stop them?”
“I don’t know. But our baby’s best chance is there. We have to go.”
Finally she agreed to get up. She was drenched with perspiration. “What about the kids?” she asked.
“I already called Cathy,” he said. “She and Annie are coming over to watch them.”
She heard the door open and heard Cathy calling out. Tory made her way into the living room before she was kicked with another contraction. She leaned against the wall, her eyes squeezed shut.
“I’ve got to get her into the car,” Barry said. “Help me, Cathy.”
Cathy put one arm around her shoulders and Barry took the other and they carried Tory to the car. Annie stood back, watching, horrified. “That’s it,” the teenager said. “I am, like, never having children.”
“Honey, you’re going to be all right,” Cathy told Tory. “Just hang in there. I’ll call Brenda and she and I will be at the hospital soon. I’ll let Annie take care of the kids.”
Tory couldn’t answer. Barry ran around the car and got in the driver’s seat.
“Be careful, Barry,” Cathy said. “Drive carefully.”
He was anything but careful as he pulled out of the driveway, spinning his tires and burning rubber as he headed to the hospital.
It was a long night. Tory fought the pain for hours, begging and pleading with the doctors to stop the labor so the baby
wouldn’t be born too soon and die. She knew the baby already had too many battles to fight. She didn’t want this to be one of them. Her lungs probably weren’t fully developed, and her other major organs might be too weak to make it through.
But in her heart, she knew that the baby’s time had come. Her water had broken, and the delivery was imminent.
Barry didn’t leave her side. He stayed with her, sitting on the edge of the bed, mopping her face and helping her through the contractions. She drifted into a light sleep between pains, but on the edge of her consciousness she heard her husband praying over her.
“Lord, save the baby,” he whispered. “Please don’t let anything happen to it. I know I deserve it because of all the things I’ve said and all the things I’ve wanted. But if you’ll let her pull through, I’ll love her just like I love my other two. We’ll fight all these battles together. Please, Lord, let the baby be born alive.”
The prayer gave Tory the energy to fight and the peace to accept whatever was to come. She didn’t know what God had in mind for them, whether it was something easy or terribly hard, whether it would take a lifetime of struggling or just the next few hours. She had no idea, but she gave it up to God as the contractions grew closer and closer together.
Concerned by something on the baby’s heart monitor, the doctors decided to do a cesarean. She protested, afraid the anesthesia might hurt the child, but the doctors assured her it would be much easier on the baby than a normal delivery. When she finally consented, they wheeled Tory into the delivery room with Barry by her side. As the anesthesia began to take effect, Barry held her hand.
“What if God is going to punish me for what I’ve done?” he asked her. “What if he’s going to give me what I wanted? What I was praying for? How could I have wanted my baby to die? Can he forget that?”
“If I can, he can,” Tory said. “I don’t have any forgiveness in me, except for what he gave me. And I’ve forgiven you.” She took his hand and squeezed hard. “But the truth is, he’ll have to forgive me, too. I’ve had so many awful thoughts go through my
mind. Thoughts about what she’ll look like, how embarrassed we’ll be to take her in public…” Her voice broke off, and she sucked in a sob. “Oh, Lord, if you let her live, I won’t be ashamed of hen I’ll love her and treat her the way you treat me. Like a precious, beloved child who belongs to me.”
“Me, too, Lord,” Barry whispered, too overcome with emotion to get the words out clearly. “Oh, I’ll teach her things and be patient with her, and I’ll protect her like you protect me. I’ll protect her from others…and from herself. I’ll be a parent like you. Just please give me the chance.”
Barry stayed beside her as they began to do the surgery, and when the baby was pulled free, Tory relaxed back into her pillow, holding her breath and listening for some sign that her baby was alive.
A team of doctors, nurses, and technicians surrounded the baby, and they hurried her across the room and began to work on her.
For several moments, there was silence, and Tory lay helpless on the table, clutching Barry’s hand.
“Barry, is she alive?” she asked, looking up at him. He was straining to see between the people surrounding the child.
“I think so,” he said. “She’s blue, though.”
She sat up and saw them working on her child, then suddenly a little fist punched up at the air, and the baby began to cry. Barry started to laugh, and Tory joined in, so overwhelmed with love that she couldn’t believe there had ever been any question that this baby would be wanted.
He let go of her hand and went to the table where his little daughter lay. Tory saw the awe on his face as he beheld the child. She heard the team discussing the baby’s color, her sluggishness, her respiratory effort, her heart rate. As they worked on the baby, she realized that she had problems. She wasn’t home free just yet. The doctors around Tory got between the child and her as they finished her sutures. Frustration climbed in her heart.
Barry came back to her side and bent over her. “Her heart rate is good,” he said, taking her hand. “But she’s having a hard
time breathing, so they’re giving her oxygen.” He wiped the tear rolling down her temple.
The doctor moved, and she saw them putting the C-pap on the baby’s tiny face. Quickly, they laid her in an incubator, while one of the nurses took her vital signs.
“Why are you putting her in there?” Tory asked. “Can’t I hold her first?”
“No,” the doctor said. “We need to get her under the radiant warmer. The box is a portable transport isolette. It’s made of Plexiglas and has the warmer in it.”
She watched as one of the nurses stuck an IV in the baby’s umbilical cord while another held the bag. They closed the cover of the incubator. One nurse had her hands in the holes on the side and was listening to her heart rate as they wheeled the isolette out.
“Where are they taking her?”
“ICU,” a nurse told her.
“But is she gonna be all right?” Barry asked. “Is this just routine, or is she in trouble?”
“It’s not routine,” the doctor said. “She’s got some problems. Her lungs aren’t quite developed. We’ll have to evaluate her more before we know what else she needs.”
Hours passed before they were allowed to see their baby, and Tory began to wonder if she would die before she had even gotten the chance to look into her face. When they finally brought Tory a wheelchair to take Barry and her to see the baby, they were both overcome with emotion. She weighed only three pounds, and lay limply on her back. A nurse explained the EKG leads were stuck to her chest, monitoring her heart. A saturation probe was attached to her foot, monitoring the oxygen concentration in her blood. The little two-prong Hudson C-Pap assisted with her breathing. A feeding tube threaded into her throat, keeping gas out. The sounds of bubbling and humming surrounded the isolette.
But through the machinery, Tory looked down at the baby she had expected to be ugly. Her ears were a little smaller than normal, a little lower, but she was the most beautiful baby she
had ever seen. She reached through the hole and touched her daughter’s little face.
An alarm bonged, startling Tory and Barry. The nurse began to adjust the machinery. “Too much stimulation causes an increase in her oxygen levels,” she said. “It’s best not to touch her until she’s more stable.”
Tory wept as they pulled her away to make room for the other nurses. She looked up at Barry and saw that he was weeping, too. He bent over and held her close. “She’s so little,” he cried. “How will she survive?”
Tory didn’t know the answer, but she gave the problem to God, even as her heart broke over her child. But God knew about suffering children. He understood about a parent’s grief. Back in the room, they prayed together some more, knowing that only God could help their little girl now.
When Barry was able, he went into the waiting room to tell Brenda and Cathy about his daughter. He let them go in to be with Tory for a while.
“I need to call David and tell him,” Brenda said quietly. “He was really worried about that baby.”
Barry stopped her. “I’ll call him.”
Brenda shot him a look, wondering if he meant it. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. Go on in.”
When they were in the room, Barry went to a pay phone and dialed the number. David answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“David, it’s me, Barry.”
“Barry, how are things going?”
“We’re not sure,” he said. “The baby’s here. She’s got some problems from coming so early. She’s hooked up to every kind of gadget you can imagine.”
“Like Joseph was.”
“Yeah. Like Joseph.” His voice broke off. “I thought I knew how you felt then, man. But I didn’t have a clue.”
“Is she…gonna make it? Are they giving any hope?”
“We’re counting on it,” he said. “She’s beautiful, David. Down’s Syndrome and all.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
Barry swallowed and forced himself to go on. “Hey, David, I’ve been meaning to thank you.”
“For what?”
“For shooting straight with me a few months ago,” Barry said. “For being a friend.”
Again, silence. “I’m a little surprised to hear you say that,” he said finally. “In fact, I was surprised you called. I didn’t think you and I would ever have a pleasant conversation again.”
“Well, it just so happens that you were right that night. I should have told you months ago. You know, the message you gave me was the message of grace. It was a uniquely Christian message.” He looked down at the buttons on the phone. “I know you still don’t believe in Christ, and when you have examples of Christians like me running around, well, I can’t say that I blame you. But I thought you should know that you’ve already got the basic concepts down. At this point, conversion would be a piece of cake.”
David laughed softly. “Well, it’s not like I don’t have the background, but you know how it is. Faith is a hard thing for some people to grasp.”
“I know it is,” he said, “just like my faith that this baby was going to bring any good into our lives. But she made me a believer.”
“Good for you,” David said.
Later that day, Barry went home and got Brittany and Spencer, and took them to the hospital to see the baby. He found Tory in ICU next to the isolette, trying not to do anything that would set off an alarm.
Barry saw the look of awe in Brittany’s and Spencer’s faces, and wondered how he ever could have believed this baby had no value. Already he could see the impact on her older sister and brother.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” Tory asked the children.
“She looks like a doll,” Brittany said. “Can she move with all that stuff on her?”
“She moves her hands and feet,” she said. “She can’t cry with the feeding tube and oxygen, though.”
“Can we get her some clothes?” Spencer asked.
“As soon as it’s okay for her to wear them,” Barry said.
“I can’t wait to hold her,” Brittany whispered with wonder.
Barry’s eyes seemed to continually fill with mist these days, and he sat down and pulled Spencer onto his lap and Brittany against his side.
“This baby is very special,” he told them. “She’s not like other babies.”
“Why not?” Spencer asked.
“She’s just a little more delicate,” Barry said. “She’s going to need a lot of extra care and a lot of extra attention. She may not be quite as smart as you, or quite as big, or quite as healthy, but we’re going to love her just like she is, and we’re going to help her every day of her life.”
“Is she gonna be like Uncle Nathan?” Brittany asked.
Barry was quiet for a moment. “Not quite like Uncle Nathan. She may be able to walk, and laugh and smile and talk. She just won’t be able to do it as well as we do.”
The children stared down at the baby as if trying to imagine what she might be like when she grew older. Then came the question.
“Why?” Spencer asked. “Why is she that way? Why did God send us a baby like that?”
Tory’s eyes filled with tears, and she touched the baby’s tiny hand. She swallowed the tears gathering in her throat. “God let us have a baby like this because he trusted us,” she whispered. “He knew we were a family that could take care of her.”
That made sense to Spencer, and he smiled and puffed out his little chest. “I can take care of her,” he said. “I’m her big brother. Don’t worry, Mommy. We won’t let anything happen to her.”