Summer

by Karen Kingsbury

  “That’s a nice boy, Devin.” Joy filled her and warmed her despite the slight chill in the house. She wasn’t in a rush to start the day. She had three hours until her test, so she eased herself into the rocking chair. She whispered in Devin’s ear, “Wanna rock with Mommy for a little bit?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He kept his head on her shoulder. Then he started to hum.

  When Devin hummed, Ashley knew exactly what was supposed to come next. “Want Mommy to sing?”

  Devin nodded and pressed his head closer against her. He pulled his blanket up to his face and snuggled into it.

  Ashley added a hum of her own, because that’s what she always did when Devin wanted a song. These were the simple rhythms that came with motherhood, the ability to read a child, to know a child’s needs before they could even be voiced. She took a long breath and smoothed Devin’s soft cotton pajama top. “‘Jesus loves me! this I know, for the Bible tells me so. . . .’”

  By the time she reached the line in the song that talked about Jesus being strong, Devin gave three little grunts for emphasis. Then he lifted his head, looked straight into her eyes, and giggled. Cole was that way too. Loving the “He is strong” part most of all.

  She could hear Landon across the hall waking up Cole. He had a spelling test at summer school today—a review of all the words they’d learned that year. Classes lasted for three weeks from eight to noon. Lots of Cole’s friends were going, and with Ashley’s pregnancy, they’d decided to let him attend again this year.

  But summer school didn’t mean Cole was less nervous about his test. Last night they’d all prayed that he would stay calm and remember all the words they’d worked on since September. They randomly tested him from the review sheet, but with two hundred words on the list, they could only go over a tenth of them.

  Then after prayers, Landon had figured out a way to take Cole’s mind off the spelling words. “Mommy has an important test tomorrow too.” He sat on the edge of Cole’s bed. “So we’ll pray for your spelling test, and you pray for Mommy’s test at the doctor’s office.”

  For a heartbeat, Cole looked concerned. “Is something wrong with Mommy?” He looked from Landon up to Ashley.

  Her answer was quick. “No, Coley. Mommy’s fine. The test is for baby Sarah.”

  “Oh.” Calm had returned to his features instantly. Cole had no reason to worry. In his limited experience, babies never had any trouble.

  Now she could hear him talking about the spelling test in the next room. “Try me on attitude, Dad. I sometimes get attitude wrong.”

  “Okay, spell attitude.” There was a smile in Landon’s voice.

  “A-t-t-i-t-u-d-e.” Cole rattled the letters off, no problem. “Attitude.”

  “You know what I think, buddy?”

  “What?”

  “I think you’re worried about nothing.” Landon laughed. “Now how about you get out of bed and hit the shower. We need to leave in forty minutes.”

  Ashley leaned back in the rocking chair and allowed herself to be fully aware of her happiness. Devin’s warm little chest against her own. Her husband, so kind and compassionate, loving Cole as if the boy were his very flesh and blood. A baby daughter on the way, one who would be doted on by her two big brothers every day of her life. All that and she’d never felt healthier. This pregnancy—more than her others—truly made her glow from the inside out.

  She started in once more with the song. “‘Jesus loves me! this I know. . . .’”

  And the message hit her all over again. Jesus loved her; that’s why life was so wonderful. There was no reason to think all that would change in a few hours at the doctor’s office.

  Ashley held on to that thought as she dressed Devin and made breakfast for her family. They ate together, and Cole entertained them with stories about pet day coming up and how last year Bobby Weinstein and his dad had brought their pet boa constrictor and a live mouse, which he fed to the snake, and how two of the girls and one of the boys had to be helped into the hall because they started screaming that someone needed to save the mouse.

  The story was wonderfully distracting, and Ashley savored it, as she savored every moment that morning. Landon drove Cole to school at eight, and the next hour flew by. On the way to the doctor’s office, they dropped Devin off at Kari’s house.

  On her way back out to the van, Kari stopped her. Their eyes held for a few seconds, and Kari pulled her into a long embrace. “I’ll be praying.”

  Ashley pulled away before her sister did. She smiled and nodded. “Thanks.” The facade of confidence she’d kept up for so long began to crumble. There was no hiding from the facts. She was on her way to find out if her baby was deathly ill after all. Her smile faded, and this time she moved into her sister’s arms willingly. “Pray hard, Kari. Please.”

  Then, so she wouldn’t start crying with Devin a few feet away watching, she hurried down the steps and into the van.

  Landon hesitated before backing down the driveway. “Ashley . . . you all right?”

  Her hands were suddenly cold and clammy, and she felt sick to her stomach. She lifted her eyes to his. “I’m scared.”

  He leaned over and hugged her. “God knows what’s coming. He won’t take us anywhere we aren’t capable of going.”

  In His strength, Ashley wanted to say. But what if the test results were horrible and she couldn’t remember how to find Christ’s strength? What if she collapsed or couldn’t breathe?

  She folded her hands and willed herself to stay calm. “I’m okay.” She looked down at her belly. As she did, Sarah kicked at her hand, and despite Ashley’s fears, she managed to smile. Everything’s okay. It has to be okay.

  The drive to Dr. McDaniel’s office and the ten minutes in the waiting room blended together, and in no time Ashley was dressed in a cotton gown, waiting for the doctor. She looked at the clock. Across town, Cole was probably just starting his spelling test. Help him, God. . . . Help him remember.

  “God’s with us, Ash.” Landon stood next to her, his hand on her shoulder. “I can feel Him here.” He paused. “It’s okay.”

  A part of her wanted to scream, what if it wasn’t okay? But she smiled at him. “I was praying for Cole.”

  Landon was starting to say something about Cole’s spelling test when Dr. McDaniel walked in. The woman looked somber from the moment she came into view. “Ashley, Landon . . . it’s good to see you.”

  For the first time, Ashley felt slightly guilty. She’d canceled three appointments and avoided returning the doctor’s phone calls. No one could force her to see a doctor. Not when she was enjoying her pregnancy so much.

  “We’re sorry it took so long to get in.” Landon must’ve felt awkward too. He hesitated, as if he was trying to think of the right excuse. But instead he simply let his apology stand on its own.

  Dr. McDaniel slipped her hands into her pockets and smiled, but her expression remained serious. “It’s okay. I understand.” She turned to the ultrasound machine and flipped a few switches. “I’m glad you came in now.” She adjusted the screen and reached for the tube of gel on her counter. “How’re you feeling, Ashley?”

  “Perfect.” Ashley’s answer was fast, as if by saying so she could stave off any doubts about the health of her baby. “The baby’s moving a lot. I can track her sleep patterns and when she’s more active.”

  Dr. McDaniel’s back was to them, but she nodded. “I always loved that about my pregnancies.”

  Ashley felt herself relax. The woman couldn’t be expecting the absolute worst. Not if she was making small talk like this. Landon was still beside her, his hand still on her shoulder, but she wasn’t sure what to do next. “Want me to lie down?”

  “Not yet.” Dr. McDaniel faced them and leaned against the counter. She seemed to be warming the tube of gel with her hands. “Are you ready for this test?”

  And there it was—the doubt that had obviously been there all along.

  Ashley’s throat was dry, and she couldn’
t find the words. She reached up and covered Landon’s hand with her own.

  Landon caught her silent signal. “We’re as ready as we can be.” His voice was thick, full of emotion. “We understand that whatever the results are today, we’ll have to deal with them.”

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” Dr. McDaniel directed her attention to Ashley. “I’ve been praying for you, just like you asked. But sometimes with God we have to look a little harder for the miracle.” She touched Ashley’s other shoulder. “Understand?”

  Ashley didn’t want to understand. She looked at the door, and for a minute she considered running. She could race down the hallway and back to the van, and they could pick up Devin and take him to the park. That way her baby would be safe from any test results or terrible diagnosis.

  But none of that was possible, because it wouldn’t change the fact that she needed this test. That’s why she was here. So that she and Landon could figure out a way to live with the results.

  Ashley exhaled and looked at Dr. McDaniel. “I understand.”

  “All right then.” She patted the table. “Stretch out right here and we’ll take a look.”

  Ashley eased back on the crinkly paper. She wondered if Dr. McDaniel would be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat over her own. Each hard, fast beat seemed to come with a message. Please, God . . . please, God . . . please, God . . .

  Landon stayed at her side, his hand on her shoulder again.

  Please, God . . . please, God . . . please, God . . .

  The doctor moved Ashley’s gown aside and squirted the cool gel onto her belly.

  Ashley closed her eyes. It’s okay, Sarah. . . . It’s just a test. Don’t be afraid, baby girl. Don’t be afraid. The weight of her baby made it hard to draw a breath, so she pursed her lips and forced herself to exhale. Anything to create room in her lungs for a little oxygen.

  She could hear Landon breathing harder than before, but neither of them dared say a word.

  Dr. McDaniel spread the gel across Ashley’s abdomen and pressed the round tip of the wand against her skin. Instantly Sarah’s heartbeat echoed through the room.

  Please, God . . . please, God . . . please, God . . .

  This was Sarah’s active hour, and today was no different. She kicked at the ultrasound device, and Ashley wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. See, she wanted to say, my baby girl’s always active like that.

  Ashley opened her eyes because even if the test results were bad, she wouldn’t be able to tell. And this was her chance to see the baby she’d been singing to and communicating with. The screen held the image of the baby’s legs. They looked long, like a dancer’s legs. Yes, maybe Sarah would be a dancer.

  She placed her hand over Landon’s and gave it a squeeze.

  He did the same, and she could tell he was thinking similar thoughts. “She’s beautiful.”

  Ashley nodded, her eyes glued to the screen.

  “Definitely a girl.” Dr. McDaniel kept her voice even.

  The image changed, and their daughter’s arms and hands came into view. Pretty hands, hands that would maybe one day hold a paintbrush or a stethoscope or a basketball. Her little girl’s hands. Tears filled Ashley’s eyes because this was amazing, this view of their daughter.

  Again the doctor moved the tool, and now Sarah’s profile came clearly into focus. Tiny nose and high cheekbones, a face Ashley would kiss and clean, the face that would be in their family photos, gracing the walls of their house as she grew older. One that would get made up for her high school prom, the face that would be surrounded by soft hair the same color as Cole’s and Devin’s.

  Sarah, baby, I can see you! You’re perfect, honey. Don’t be afraid, little girl. I’ll keep you safe.

  The doctor was looking at her baby’s head, at her skull. She was taking measurements, typing something into the computer, freezing the image, and then letting it go live again. More measurements, more typing.

  Ashley closed her eyes again and held her breath. Please, God . . . please, God . . . please, God . . .

  Dr. McDaniel was saying something about Sarah’s head, about an opening near the base of her neck.

  Ashley opened her eyes, confused. Everything looked fine, didn’t it?

  The doctor froze the image. “Ashley and Landon, I need you both to look very closely.”

  She could feel Landon nodding, and she did the same. All the while her heart thudded out the message. Please, God . . . She swallowed and forced herself to grab a quick breath. Everything was going to be okay. That’s what Landon told her. . . . That’s what she’d been telling baby Sarah. Everything was going to be—

  “The neural tube defect is clear in this area right here.” Dr. McDaniel pushed a button, and the image became live again. She shifted the tool and pointed to a blurred section near the back and top of Sarah’s head. “Can you see that?”

  Just then, Ashley felt her baby move. Sarah’s hand came into view, and she stuck her thumb into her mouth. Ashley wanted to shout at the doctor. How could her daughter have a brain defect if she was able to suck her thumb? Anyone knew that was the sign of a healthy baby, right?

  “She’s . . . she’s sucking her thumb.” Landon’s voice still held hope. “Could she do that? If she has a neural tube defect?”

  “Yes.” Dr. McDaniel’s voice was kind but firm. “In the womb, babies with anencephaly respond very much like a normal, healthy child.” She pointed to the image on the screen again. “But what we see here is classic of a neural tube defect.” She froze the image again and turned so she was facing them. “Your baby has anencephaly. There’s no doubt whatsoever.”

  Her words were like so many arrows through Ashley’s heart. She brought her free hand to her face and covered her eyes. What had she told Landon last night? That she would accept the test results. But what about the miracle? What about all their prayers and dreams for this little girl?

  She felt a drop of wetness hit her cheek, and then she felt it again on the palm of her hand, the one covering her eyes. She lowered her arm and looked at Landon. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, his face contorted. And he was crying.

  Her heartbeat wasn’t screaming out a message anymore. Ashley couldn’t hear it or even feel it, as if in a moment’s time a part of her had died right along with the diagnosis. If her baby wasn’t going to live, maybe she wasn’t going to live either. And the possibility made her angry.

  “I’m sorry.” Dr. McDaniel cleared her throat. “I’m so sorry.” She turned off the machine and handed Ashley a few paper towels so she could clean the gel off her stomach. “I’ll give you a few minutes. Then I need to see you in my office.”

  It was a nightmare; it had to be. How could this happen? Had she done something wrong? Brooke had said something once about anencephaly happening when a woman didn’t get enough folic acid. So was that the problem? Had she missed a dose of vitamins that would’ve saved her daughter’s life?

  Ashley wiped at her stomach, and a numbness came over her, almost as if she were watching the scene happen to someone else. She closed her gown, and Landon helped her sit up.

  “Baby . . . I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face against hers. “I can’t believe this.”

  Ashley rested her hand against his back and felt him shaking, felt the sobs having their way with him. But all of it seemed like some kind of strange dream.

  By the time she dressed and they went to Dr. McDaniel’s office, Landon had regained control. He held her hand and talked to the doctor about a C-section versus a traditional delivery and about planning for their baby’s death—whatever that meant for them.

  The one thing that resonated with Ashley was the delivery part. “If I have a C-section, the baby has a better chance of living?”

  Dr. McDaniel’s face fell, and she looked as if she might cry too. “A better chance that your baby will live longer, Ashley. There’s nothing we can do that will allow your baby to live.”

  “L
onger, like . . . like years longer?” Her anger was stronger than before, because she wouldn’t give up on Sarah without a fight, not without demanding her daughter get the best possible chance at life.

  “No.” Frustration colored the woman’s expression. She looked like she might say something about how Ashley should’ve come in sooner or how accepting the truth earlier might’ve helped them get through this ordeal. But instead she studied Ashley’s chart and gave a sad shake of her head. “A C-section might help your baby live longer. A few hours, maybe a day at the most.”

  “Fine.” Ashley sat up straighter. “Then let’s schedule the C-section.”

  Dr. McDaniel looked at her computer screen. “Your due date’s roughly the third week of August. I’d like to deliver you earlier than that. So we don’t run into any issues with labor. Labor can be very hard on a baby with anencephaly.” She paused. “How about Wednesday, August 9?”

  “Fine.” Ashley couldn’t wait to get out of the office. Every minute here was a minute wasted, a minute when she and Landon and Cole and Devin and Sarah were robbed of being the family they were today. While Sarah was still active and alive.

  The meeting wrapped up, and Ashley stopped listening to the details. Landon was listening. That was enough.

  They were halfway to the van when it all hit her. She stopped and turned to Landon. She felt dizzy and breathless, black spots circling in front of her eyes. She couldn’t do this, couldn’t move forward another step.

  Landon must’ve known she was going to pass out, because he put his arm around her and helped her to a grove of trees at the middle of the parking lot.

  A bench sat between the trees, and Landon carefully lowered her there. “We’ll get through this, Ash. We will.” He stroked her hair and kissed her face.

  There, with the sun streaming through the trees and the fresh air filling her lungs, Ashley let the realization sink in. As it did, her tears came all at once, rivers of them. She couldn’t get the date out of her mind—Wednesday, August 9. If this were any other pregnancy, she’d be counting down the days and hours, waiting for her due date. A little more than a month.