Take Four

by Karen Kingsbury

  “You can’t make up for my pain,” her mom kept her eyes on the road, but she softly squeezed Andi’s hand.

  “I guess.” She smiled at the memory of her innocent, all-believing self at that age. “You know what?”

  “What, sweetheart?” Her mom put both hands on the wheel again.

  “I’d still like a houseful of boys.” She looked down, suddenly aware that whether she was carrying a girl or boy, this baby would not be part of her future picture. “When the time’s right, I mean.”

  Her mom’s smile was still laced with sadness, because she clearly understood. “And your dad and I will live right next door.”

  They spent the rest of the drive talking about her dad’s movies. The upcoming filming of Unlocked and the theatrical release for The Last Letter. Her dad was meeting with Dayne Matthews this afternoon, working out movie details and waiting to hear news about Andi’s appointment. The conversation made the time fly and in no time they were at the clinic.

  An arrangement between the adoption agency and a topnotch medical clinic a few miles away meant that Andi’s care was paid for. It was why they made this trek for her appointments. So far the staff had been very compassionate and sensitive to what Andi was going through. They regularly talked about her decision to give her baby up for adoption, assuring her that she could still keep her baby if she chose.

  “Andi,” a young technician named Oksana stepped into the waiting room only seconds after they arrived. She’d taken part in Andi’s visits before, and her smile was pleasant and understanding. “You and your mom can follow me.”

  Andi nodded. I’m doing the right thing…isn’t that so, God? You alone could’ve reached down from heaven and stopped me from ending this baby’s life. So this is what I’m supposed to do, right? Give the baby away…? But then why do I feel this way?

  Daughter, I am with you…always.

  I have to believe that…God’s with me. He’s with me right here, right now. She breathed deeply as she stood. And when she had gathered her strength, she followed the woman. This was the right choice…it had to be. The knowledge gave every appointment here purpose and meaning, but this one especially.

  As she prepared for the ultrasound, as she switched into a gown and laid down on the table, Andi remembered the time three months ago when she went to the crisis pregnancy center in Bloomington for her first ultrasound. How wonderful, this technology that could inform a woman of the truth about the baby inside her. She had talked to her friend Ashley Baxter several times since she’d come home to live with her parents, and she’d thanked Ashley for talking to her parents about her pregnancy. She and Ashley had even thought up ways Andi could help teenage girls better understand the importance of abstinence.

  Andi stretched out on the table and noticed again how tight her stomach felt, the strange way it rose to a firm bump near her belly button. In this position, she could easily feel the flutterings her mother had talked about in the car, the way the baby seemed to be gradually exploring his or her surroundings.

  The ultrasound wouldn’t take long. Oksana entered the room and prepared the machine, tapping a number of buttons and switches. “How’ve you been feeling?”

  “Good.” Andi’s answer was quick, but honest. “I’m not nauseous anymore.”

  “The second trimester is usually the easiest.” Oksana looked to be in her mid-twenties. She grinned at Andi and then at her mother, sitting a few feet away. “That, and we’ve all been praying for you.”

  Andi smiled. Like most people at this doctor’s office, Oksansa seemed to have a strong faith in God and an easy way of sharing it. “Wait till you see what this ultrasound machine can do.” Oksana worked another few switches. “In a minute or so you’ll be looking right into the face of your baby.”

  “Technology has improved.” Andi’s mother focused on the moniter. “When I was pregnant with Andi, we could barely tell her head from her feet.”

  “Well, let’s take a look.” Oksansa positioned a wand over Andi’s stomach.

  The anticipation made Andi’s heart race, and she had to remember to breathe. Gradually and then more quickly images began to appear on the screen. Fully shaped little arms and shoulders, feet and legs. And then Oksana turned to Andi. “Do you want to know what you’re having?”

  Andi held her breath. In some ways she wanted to stop the information from ever reaching her heart. Because once she knew, the baby’s existence would feel so much more real…the loss she was facing in choosing adoption, so much more real. Andi’s throat felt dry as she nodded. “Yes, please. I’d like to know.”

  “It used to be we couldn’t always tell, but the way your baby’s positioned, this one’s easy.” Her smile was tender, mixed with the understanding that this news was bittersweet. “You’re having a boy, Andi.”

  A boy.

  Andi had expected this day to be tougher than any since she’d decided to give her baby up. But she hadn’t expected the rush of emotions washing over her now. She was having a boy, the way she’d dreamed of having her firstborn be a boy since that long ago conversation with her mother. Without realizing she was crying, two tears slid down the sides of her face. “Are…are you sure?”

  “These ultrasounds are much more dependable than they used to be.” Oksana adjusted the wand and a better view came into focus. “This little one is a boy.”

  Andi looked at her mother, at the tears on her cheeks. The news seemed to be hitting her the same way, with an emotional impact neither of them had expected. Andi stretched out her arm and took hold of her mother’s hand. She turned her attention again to the monitor as Oksana moved the wand and suddenly there he was, the face of her little boy. His eyes were closed, and he had one small fist pressed peacefully to his cheek. Andi heard herself utter the softest gasp, because the image was remarkably clear, as if her little son were looking at her through a window.

  “He’s beautiful,” she whispered. Another set of tears fell hot and wet along the sides of her face. “Mom, isn’t he so beautiful?”

  Her mom pressed her free hand to her lips and stifled what seemed like a sudden, soft couple of sobs. She couldn’t talk, so she only nodded, her eyes never leaving the baby’s face.

  Andi looked again at the image of the little boy, and she saw him move his hand, almost as if he were stretching. It couldn’t be, but his face seemed to smile at her, telling her thank you for letting him live, and that he couldn’t wait to get out and see her face to face. The notion was ridiculous, of course. But looking into his face, that’s how Andi felt. She blinked back her tears so she could see better. He didn’t look anything like Taz, at least not at this point. He had her cheekbones and nose, and his fingers looked chunky and strong, not slender like Taz’s. Like maybe he’d be tall and athletic the way her father was.

  Oksana was giving them this time, allowing the wand to linger so Andi and her mother could stare at the baby as long as they wanted. She didn’t speak, since clearly the moment was personal.

  “He…he looks like me,” Andi glanced at her mom again. “Don’t you think?”

  “He does.” She pressed her fingers to her eyes and coughed a few times, until she seemed to have her voice again. “He looks like your little brothers. They all…when they were stillborn, they all had that same nose.”

  Andi was so sure about giving her baby up for adoption that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel maternal. She wasn’t an expectant mother so much as she was a college girl who’d made a terrible mistake. She’d given up her virginity, and now she would pay for that choice all the days of her life. Especially now, when people tended to stare at her when they were out around town. Up until now, her body was merely carrying this baby to term so that someone else could take him as their own.

  But here, watching her baby move and reposition himself inside her, looking at the softness of his cheeks and the definition of his face, Andi ached to hold him. The feeling was stronger than anything she’d ever known, a longing and a love that was
n’t learned and couldn’t be reasoned away. It simply was.

  Oksana pushed another button on the machine to take several photos of the baby, his face and his spine, his toes and his midsection. She printed them, placed them in a folder, and told Andi the doctor would be in to see her in a few minutes. Before she left, she came to Andi’s side, handed her a tissue, and looked into her eyes, her compassion tangible. “Have you chosen a family?”

  “I have.” Andi sniffed and wiped her nose. “The agency is informing them this week.”

  “I’d encourage you at this point to talk to your parents, really pray about your decision.” She looked at Andi’s mother and then back at Andi. “Seeing your baby this way makes the idea of giving birth much more real.” She hesitated, and when she spoke again there was a catch in her voice. “I was adopted. My birth mom was a teenage girl…too young to be a mom. I’ll be forever grateful to her for having the courage to let me live. And the courage to give me up.” She sniffed, finding control again. “But it’s a very difficult decision…it’s not for everyone, and once you make the choice, once you sign over your rights, there’s no going back.”

  Andi squeezed her eyes shut and tried to keep her building tears from overtaking her. She wasn’t ready to be a mother, not for years. When that time came, she wanted to be married to a man like her daddy or a man like Dayne Matthews. She wanted to feel as certain about her decision now as she had when she first walked into the adoption agency three months ago.

  But all she could see was the face of her baby.

  She nodded and breathed in a few quick times from her nose, struggling for composure. “Th-thank you.”

  Oksana patted Andi’s hand and then left the room. Andi turned her attention to her mom, who was still wiping at her eyes, the impact of the images still fresh for both of them. Her mom released her hand, stood, and found fresh tissues. She handed a few to Andi, and helped her to a sitting position. “He’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

  “I know.” Confusion racked Andi’s heart, and questions assaulted her. What did this mean, these feelings inside her? Was she supposed to raise her baby after all? Did her parents want her to keep him? She had no time to ask a single one, because there was a knock at the door and Dr. Wilmington walked in.

  “Andi…” he smiled. “How are you?”

  She started to answer, but then a sound which was more a cry than a laugh came from her. She must’ve looked like a wreck, her eyes red and swollen. “I’m fine.” She dabbed the tissue at her eyes and nose again. “I wasn’t ready for that…how clearly I could see him.”

  “It’s amazing.” He was a young doctor, mid-thirties, maybe. “This is the stage when a lot of young pregnant women rethink their decision to give a baby up for adoption.”

  “Do a lot of them change their minds?” Andi’s mom still had red cheeks and bleary eyes, but she was more composed now. “I think the reality of the little guy, how clearly we could see him…it caught us both off guard.”

  “Yes.” Dr. Wilmington leaned back against a nearby wall, unrushed in his response. “Lots of moms change their mind at this point. We believe the ultrasound is a helpful tool in guiding a woman to make the right choice. The decision best for her and her family, best for the baby.”

  “Do women…do the ones who give their babies up, do they regret it later?” Andi had never even wondered before. “From what you’ve seen?”

  “I’ll be honest, Andi. It’s a tough decision either way. It’ll stay with you all your life no matter what you do.” He crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful. “The young women with family support and a stronger faith handle their decision better—whichever way it goes.”

  Andi appreciated his answer, but she wanted more than that. “But do you think it’s possible to give…to give up a baby and feel at peace? Like it was the right decision?”

  “Absolutely.” The doctor smiled. “We’ve seen many beautiful adoptions happen over the years. Truly, it’s one of the bravest decisions a young woman can make. That is, if she’s not ready to be a mother.”

  Suddenly Andi’s head was spinning, because maybe she was ready to be a mom. She was almost twenty, so she was old enough, right? And just because she wasn’t married and the timing wasn’t convenient, didn’t mean she shouldn’t step up to the responsibility. “It’s…a lot to think about.”

  “It is.” He reached for her chart. “That’s why we encourage our clients not to inform the adoptive family until a little later in the pregnancy. When the decision has been made and it’s one the birthmother has lived with for a while.”

  Andi let that idea sink in while Dr. Wilmington performed her checkup and looked over the ultrasound. Maybe she should call the adoption agency and ask them to wait before telling Luke and Reagan. At least a few weeks. The doctor finished his exam and crossed his arms, his eyes kind. “You and the baby are very healthy. Everything’s on schedule.”

  “Good.” Andi smiled, but all she could think was that something had changed in the past hour. The peace of mind she had about giving up her baby was no longer an assumed emotion. The images of her baby son had rocked her world off its axis, and Andi wasn’t sure how to right it again.

  On the way home Andi had planned to have her mother stop by the adoption agency. She wanted to show her the picture of the family, the one she’d chosen back on her first visit. But as her mom neared the driveway of the agency, she raised her brow in Andi’s direction. “Still want to stop?”

  Andi put her hand over her stomach. The baby was moving again, touching the underside part of her belly with those now familiar hands of his. “No…not today.” She couldn’t make eye contact with her mother. If she did, her mom would see right through her, at just how difficult the decision had become. Again her mom didn’t push, didn’t ask if Andi was sure or probe her about why she’d changed her mind. The only answer needed was the one Andi held in her hand the rest of the way back home to Bloomington.

  The ultrasound photos of her son.

  Five

  BAILEY COULD BARELY CONCENTRATE ON HER CLASSES that September morning, because this was the day. Her screen test for Jeremiah Productions was set for later that afternoon. She still hurt from the failed Broadway audition, but in the last few weeks she’d allowed herself to get excited about this opportunity. Her mom planned to go with her, and both of them agreed the audition would probably be for little more than a featured extra role. But that didn’t matter. The audition would take her one step closer to doing what she loved: performing. If she kept moving ahead, kept dancing and singing and finding small acting roles, then one day she’d make it on Broadway. She had to believe that.

  Sunshine streamed through the trees as Bailey pulled out of the Indiana University parking lot and headed a block west to Starbucks. Tuesdays were often the days she visited Andi, since they both finished class by noon that day. Lately she’d fallen into a routine, picking up a couple decaf lattes and bringing them to Andi’s house. It was one way she could let Andi know how much she cared.

  Andi had talked to her last night about how she was no longer sure she wanted to give her baby up for adoption. So especially today, Bailey wanted to make herself available. That way Andi had someone other than her parents who could listen and offer input. Not that Bailey had a strong opinion one way or another. If she’d made the same mistakes and gotten pregnant, she was pretty sure she couldn’t give her baby up. But then she knew lots of people whose lives were forever changed for the better because a brave young woman was able to give up her baby. Recently Bailey had even heard a well known Christian singer include, as part of his life story, a thank you to his birthmother for giving him up.

  So Bailey didn’t have the answers, but she loved Andi and she could at least listen. Hopefully today that would be enough. She dashed into Starbucks and bought a latte for herself and at the last minute, she changed Andi’s order to a decaf green tea frappuccino. Andi didn’t have the sweet drink often, but it was her favorite. Three
miles down the road, Bailey pulled into the driveway of the ranch house where Andi lived with her parents.

  As Bailey parked , she remembered the first time she reconnected with her friend after Andi’s mom called and told Bailey what had happened—that Andi was indeed pregnant and had been about to have an abortion when God intervened. The story was absolute proof the Lord had worked a miracle to stop Andi from doing something she would regret all her life. The day after Andi came home from Indianapolis with her parents, Bailey drove over and the two of them took a walk around Andi’s new neighborhood.

  “It’s my fault,” Andi told her then. “I should’ve listened to you about Taz…about the parties I was going to…all of it.” Andi’s eyes clouded with shame. “I feel so stupid.”

  “We all do stupid things once in a while.” Bailey thought about her decision to date Tim, the months she’d gone in a relationship she should’ve ended long ago. “That’s why we need a Savior.”

  “I know.” Andi’s expression looked pained. “I’ve missed Jesus so much this past year. It was like…I don’t know, like I wanted to do things my own way. I didn’t want anyone telling me what to do—not even God.”

  Bailey had let that sit for a few seconds as they kept walking, their pace slow. “And now?”

  “Now?” Andi stood straighter, her expression determined. “Now I want to follow His plan every day, for the rest of my life.” She crossed her arms tight across her stomach. “I sure made a mess of things on my own.”

  “You aren’t the only one, Andi. Jesus forgives us.”

  Andi smiled. “I’m holding onto that.”

  They talked some then, about the experience at the abortion clinic, how maybe God sent an angel to stop Andi from having an abortion. Then they talked about how strained their friendship had been last semester. “Taz didn’t like you.” Andi winced a little. She had never admitted that before.

  “I’m not surprised.” Bailey pictured the young student producer, the way he wouldn’t make eye contact with her, and his way of having somewhere to go if Bailey walked up. “He didn’t like what I stood for.”