A friend invited Gena to visit a dynamic church located in a tough, run-down part of Dallas. The pastor, Jerry Howell, was a former rock-and-roll musician who still looked the part, long hair and all. Jerry had a heart for people who were hurting, broken, and downtrodden, and he presented the truth in a way that anyone could understand.
Gena and I visited the church several times and were impressed by the sincerity of Jerry and his wife, Jean. No doubt, they could have served well at any upscale megachurch, but instead, they chose to pour their lives out for the down-and-outers in a rough part of town. The nondenominational church was small and intimate, a few hundred people at the most. We enjoyed attending the church, and Jerry's messages were filled with hope, but we recognized that we weren't “home” yet. It wasn't the place where we were supposed to be. Our hunger for a deeper relationship with God grew more intense.
During the year that Gena and I lived together, neither of us ever mentioned marriage, and although we didn't talk about it, the fact that we were “living in sin” grated against our sense of right and wrong. I knew we loved each other, yet something was missing; there was no complete, irrevocable commitment between us. Either of us could wake up one day and simply walk away. More importantly, as we began attending church and reading the Bible together, we became increasingly aware that God's plan was marriage not cohabitation. Beyond that we recognized that our living together without being married was an awful example for Gena's son, Tim, at a time in his life when he really needed positive role models. For two deeply principled people such as Gena and me, the contradiction between what we believed and how we were living became glaringly apparent. The convenience of living together outside of marriage wasn't worth the discontent.
One evening, while we were sitting on the couch watching television, I blurted out, “Gena, do you want to get married?”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I love you,” I said, “and because I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“When?”
“The only time I have is during my break from filming at Thanksgiving, six weeks away,” I said. “Can you put together a wedding that soon?”
“I haven't said yes yet.”
I got down on one knee and said, “Gena, please, will you be my wife?”
She laughed and said, “Yes!”
“Good. You've got six weeks.”
Before announcing our engagement, however, I wanted to seek the approval of one more person. I went to Gena's eleven-year-old son, Tim, and asked his permission to marry his mom. I remembered how important it was to my mom that I approve of her marriage to George, and I could imagine how Tim would feel if we just sprung the news on him. Fortunately, Tim approved!
In less than two months, Gena put together a beautiful and spiritually moving wedding. We were married at The North Church in Carrolton, a Dallas suburb, with the ceremony conducted by Pastor Lawrence Kennedy, the pastor who met with us in premarital counseling prior to our wedding date. The counseling was especially valuable to Gena and me, since both of us had been married previously and were bringing a large amount of emotional baggage along with us to our new relationship. Beyond that, we needed to deal with matters of repentance and forgiveness of our sins, and Lawrence helped us understand and work through those issues as well.
We included all of our children in our wedding, as well as Gena's parents, her brothers and sisters, my mother and brother, all our grandchildren … we had nearly sixty people take part in our wedding ceremony!
Gena surprised me by having country singer Sammy Kershaw and a few of his band members fly in to sing one of our favorite songs, “You Are the Love of My Life.” It was a special moment as Sammy sang the words that so aptly expressed the way Gena and I felt about each other.
For a while, though, I wasn't certain I was going to make it down the aisle of the church. Three days before the wedding, Tim and I were out playing basketball, when I wrenched my back. The pain was so excruciating, I could barely walk! The morning of our rehearsal, Gena took me to Baylor University Hospital, where we spent the entire morning in the emergency room.
The doctors couldn't really do much for me except to prescribe some heavy-duty painkillers. The medicine enabled me to walk and to function, but I felt as though I was in a daze from the drugs. I thought Gena was serious when she pulled a practical joke in the middle of the rehearsal.
With a church full of people, Gena said, “Honey, I know you love the Total Gym so much, I thought we should exchange our vows on the Total Gyms.”
I looked at her as though she was out of her mind, but the ushers quickly brought out two Total Gyms and set them up right in front of Pastor Kennedy.
“Go ahead and get on the Total Gyms, and repeat after me,” the pastor said. Gena got on a Total Gym on one side of the pastor, and I got on the one on the opposite side. Pastor Kennedy proceeded to talk us through the wedding vows, as Gena and I attempted to work out on the exercise equipment. It was hilariously funny, and the lighthearted approach of Pastor Kennedy helped ease any tension our families may have had about our wedding.
When Gena and I practiced our kiss during the wedding rehearsal, she had prearranged for about twenty people to raise scorecards in the audience, similar to judges scoring an Olympic event. I was glad to see that they gave us a passing score!
The night prior to our wedding, my back was no better. I was in such severe pain, Gena called our friend Dr. Hunt Neuhour for help. Dr. Neuhour drove to his office to secure some pain medication, then came to our home around midnight to administer a shot. I rarely use medications of any kind, so it didn't take much to send me for a ride. The medication worked and helped me get through our wedding day without excruciating pain.
Fortunately, we have the entire wedding on video, and every so often Gena and I love to pull out the tape and revisit those precious memories. The former deputy sheriff of Chester, California, and Walker, Texas Ranger, were now married!
Three days after the wedding, I had to be back on the set of Walker, so Gena and I agreed to forego our honeymoon until we could truly enjoy it. When we finally had time to take a honeymoon, we flew off to Bora-Bora.
When we returned, I took special efforts to reassure Tim that I was his stepfather, not his dad. I told Tim frequently, “Tim, I'm not trying to replace your father. I'm your stepfather, not your real father. But that doesn't mean I can't love you like my own son. And I want you to know that I will always be here for you. If you have a problem, please talk to me about it.”
Tim was a quiet, intelligent boy but with a definite strong will, almost a rebellious streak. Both he and Kelley were skeptical at first about Gena's and my marriage and their new life. They were suspicious of me because I was a celebrity. They later told me that they thought I was going to treat their mom the way so many other Hollywood personalities have handled their marriages: “When it gets boring, move on.” Rather than being enamored with the Hollywood scene, or the fact that I was a well-known television personality in Dallas, for months after Gena and I married, Tim and Kelley refused to tell anyone that I was their stepfather.
Their reticence to accept me in their lives hurt me deeply, but I understood their feelings. I realized that I had to be patient, accepting, and humbly try to express as much love to them as they would allow me, without forcing myself on them emotionally.
Since Tim was living with us, I constantly reiterated to him that I understood what it was like to be living with a stepparent. After all, I had grown up with a stepfather myself. I let Tim know that because of the awkwardness of the situation, I was likely to be more tolerant with him. But the one thing Gena and I refused to tolerate from Tim or Kelley was disrespect. Tim responded well to that, and although he and I had several serious eye-to-eye talks over the years, we never had to deal with any issue pertaining to disrespect.
Gena and I enrolled Tim in a Christian school in Dallas, and he slowly but surely began to come out of his shell. Our securi
ty guy, Phil Cameron, became like a big brother to Tim, and we will be eternally grateful for his positive influence on Tim. Before long Tim began to warm up to me.
I prayed often that somehow God would help us to bridge the gap between our blended family members. I could not have imagined how he would answer that prayer.
CHAPTER 25
DIAMONDS IN THE ROUGH
When Gena and I were married on November 28, 1998, the last thing on my mind was having any more children. We already had a large instant family. I had three grown children and nine grandchildren, and Gena had two children, one of whom was a teenager, and the other about to enter the teenage years. Having more babies was not high on our list of things we wanted to accomplish.
Then one day, shortly after our marriage, Gena and I had lunch with Alan Autry and his wife, Kim. Alan was a former professional football player for the Green Bay Packers and had played Bubba on the hit television series In the Heat of the Night; he was now the mayor of Fresno. Like Gena and me, and so many other couples nowadays, Alan and Kim had both been divorced, but then they found each other and were now happily remarried.
“Starting a family the second time around is the best thing I've ever done,” Alan told us. “When I had children the first time, I was young, immature, and I was obsessed with my career. I didn't take the time during my first marriage to really appreciate the joys of fatherhood, but I do now, and I'm enjoying every minute of it! I'd really encourage Gena and you to consider starting a new family,” Alan said, looking directly at me.
On the way home Gena asked me, “What do you think about Alan's comment?”
“Honey, even if we wanted to, it can't happen. I had a vasectomy twenty-five years ago, and the odds of a reversal are minimal.”
We dropped the subject of having more children, but then some time later, when I was at my KICKSTART tennis and golf event in Houston, Bernie Koppell, from The Love Boat TV series, told me how happy he was having children at an age when many men were ready to be grandfathers.
Then, my manager, Henry Holmes, who was in his mid-fifties, told me about the fulfillment his son, Benjamin, has given him at this stage in life. I was getting inundated with stories of “later in life” second families!
As I was driving home late one evening, after a long, hard day filming Walker, I wondered, Why am I being bombarded by friends who are in second marriages, having babies, and they are all telling me how great it is?
When I arrived home, Gena had already drawn a hot bath for me so I could relax while she prepared dinner. As I was lying in the tub, I reflected back to a day several years earlier when I visited my good friend, Burt Sugerman. He and his wife, Mary Hart, who hosts the Entertainment Tonight TV show, had just brought their newborn baby boy home. Burt took me in to see their baby. I'll never forget the look on Burt's face as he gazed adoringly at his infant son, AJ. I don't think I had ever seen a happier father!
Burt, who has a grown son from a previous marriage, told me that the birth of AJ was one of the most joyous occasions of his life. “Not only do I have a beautiful and wonderful wife and a healthy young son,” he said, “but I now have the time to give AJ the love I feel in my heart.”
After I finished my bath, I dressed, walked into the kitchen, put my arms around Gena, and said, “If it were humanly possible, I would love for us to have a baby together.”
Gena looked up at me and said nonchalantly, “I have already done a lot of praying and research about this. Would you be willing to fly to Houston to talk to a specialist about your vasectomy?”
“I'm willing to talk to him, but I don't think it will do any good.”
Gena smiled. “Let's put the matter in God's hands,” she said. “If it is meant to be, it will happen.”
Gena and I flew to Houston to meet with Dr. Larry Lipshultz in his office. While we were discussing our situation, I pessimistically told Dr. Lipshultz that I didn't believe a reversal would work because I'd had a vasectomy twenty-five years ago.
“Oh, no,” he said. “I don't plan on performing a reversal. I'm going right into your epidymius and extracting the sperm.”
“Would you mind repeating that?” I asked.
“If I can't get enough sperm out of your right testicle, then I will go into your left testicle.”
Once I got over the shock of what he meant, I managed to mumble, “Are you sure this will work?”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “It's a new procedure, but I feel very confident. The procedure is called MESA, Micro-Surgical Epididymal Sperm Aspiration.”
I asked the doctor to explain in plain English what he was talking about.
“I will make an incision into your scrotum exposing the epididymis, the tubules immediately adjacent to the testicles that collect the sperm. Using an operating microscope, an incision is made into these tubules and sperm is aspirated.”
“Oh,” I said, nodding as though I understood. I had no clue what the doctor was planning, but it didn't sound like much fun. Nevertheless, I had said that I'd be willing to do almost anything.…
In December 2000, I went to have the procedure done. I was nervous as could be but didn't feel a thing. Afterward Dr. Lipshultz said, “You did great! And you had all that we needed.”
On January 1, 2001, Gena started taking fertility shots every day to stimulate her ovaries to produce multiple eggs. During the month she made several trips to her doctors in Houston so they could monitor her progress. They told her she was doing remarkably well.
A month later the eggs in Gena's ovaries were mature and ready for harvest. The egg aspiration procedure was performed, and fifteen eggs were retrieved from Gena. Of the fifteen, eleven were considered viable enough to attempt ICSY, Intra-Cytoplasmic Sperm Injection. Of those eleven eggs six were healthy embryos. The doctor told us that Gena needed to do the embryo transfer the next day.
When Gena and I arrived at the hospital, her doctor suggested that all six embryos be implanted in her uterus to increase her chances of pregnancy. Gena and I went into another room to discuss our options. If six embryos were implanted, our chances of having one baby would increase, but so would our chances of having multiple births. We were hoping for one baby; two would be great, but six? We decided four embryos would be all we could handle. The nurses prepared Gena for the implantation and wheeled her into surgery. I wasn't allowed to go with her, so I sat nervously watching the clock in the waiting room.
While Gena was in the operating room, the nurse told her, “I want to show you something.” She wheeled Gena to an incubator where the four embryos were kept and gently opened the door. The incubator was bathed in warm light and soft classical music. Gena later told me it was the most incredible sight she had ever seen. “It was like looking at something from heaven.”
The four embryos were implanted directly into Gena's uterus, and she was brought back to the recovery room. At the end of the day, I was allowed to take her home, where she had to lie flat in bed for three days to give the embryos every opportunity to take.
At first everything seemed to be going well, and we were basking in the wonders of God's wisdom in the way he created our reproduction systems and the advances of modern science, making possible such unusual procedures. But then, eleven days after the implantation, Gena noticed her abdomen starting to swell. She called her doctor, who told her to come to his office right away. He examined Gena and said he believed she was experiencing what is called OHSS, Ovarian Hyper Stimulation Syndrome.
Gena was admitted to the hospital, and emergency tests revealed that she was, indeed, experiencing a severe case of OHSS. The good news was that a blood test confirmed that she was pregnant, as well. “But OHSS could be very dangerous for you and your child,” the doctor said, “so you must follow my directions and remain on complete bed rest. It could take weeks for the complications to pass.”
During the next few days, Gena's stomach swelled up with so much fluid that she looked eight months pregnant. The doctor said her ovaries were the si
ze of footballs, full of blood and cysts. He told Gena that she had two options: she could wait it out and see if the OHSS corrected itself, or she could abort the pregnancy.
Abortion was not an option to Gena and me. We believed that if God blessed us with this pregnancy, he would see us through this difficult time.
Three weeks later we went to see Doctor Karen Bradshaw, Gena's obstetrician, for a sonogram. Dr. Bradshaw started moving the sonogram over Gena's stomach to check for signs of the baby. We were looking at the screen with her, when she said, “There's that little tyke.” Then she moved the sonogram upward, and said, “Wait! There's another one!”
“Wow,” I said, gulping hard, and taking a deep breath. “Twins!”
Then she moved the sonogram to the left and said, “There might be another one.”
“Triplets? Are you sure?” I had to sit down on that one.
“No,” she said. “We'll have to wait a week to see if you are going to have two or three babies.”
During the week all I could think about was: Are we going to have twins or triplets? If Gena gives birth to triplets, how are we going to rock and feed them at the same time? How does a family with four or five babies care for them all at the same time?
The week passed, and the question was answered. We were having twins. I breathed a sigh of relief. Two babies we could handle!
During the weeks that followed, Gena remained confined to her bed. She needed oxygen to help her breathe, and a nurse came by each day to take her vitals and draw blood. Another nurse came at night to make sure that she remained stable. The nights seemed to be the hardest on Gena.
Since her movement was extremely restricted and throwing a big party was out of the question, for my birthday Gena arranged a spa treatment package for me. It was a wonderful gift in more ways than I could ever have imagined. I climbed on the table, stretched out, closed my eyes, and the masseuse went to work on me. I was so relaxed I almost drifted off to sleep, right there on the table.
Against All Odds: My Story Page 19
