Nine Months - Val's Story, Chapter 3a

Most of the nine months of my second pregancny were uneventful, other than having unrelenting indigestion no matter what I did or didn't consume. I was incubating this little bundle like a bun in the oven, or maybe like a little Easter ham. My due date was April 21, a week after Easter.

          At twenty weeks, I had the usual ultrasound they did around then to make sure Baby was growing all the right parts in the right places. At that time, ultrasounds weren't as detailed as they are now, but the technician could usually pick out if a boy or a girl was cooking in there.

          When asked if I wanted to know, I emphatically answered, "NO!"

          I hadn't had a clue when I was pregnant with my firstborn, and I didn't want to know now. Very few mothers-to-be feel the way I do, but I wanted to be surprised when the bundle popped out. I felt that if I knew ahead of time, there would be no thrill of discovery at the delivery.    

          One of the three obstetricians working in our clinic at the time, Dr. Skye, was going to give a presentation to colleagues from around the state and needed a willing pregnant woman to offer her unborn child a chance at stardom. Of course, I offered.

          So, a few weeks later, another ultrasound was performed on my growing belly; this time, it was being recorded. I still have a copy of it on an old VHS tape somewhere. 

          Summer had turned to fall – a season that is always too short where we live. Winter brought the usual cold and snow. At some point during that time, I was able to transfer to the clinic in town, saving me the half-hour trip every day. The local clinic was also much more laid-back and less stressful – just what the doctor ordered. And my OB doctor even rotated to that clinic, so I didn't have to take time off for my routine pregnancy checks.

          "Hmmm?" Dr. Skye was checking me one day when I was about 4 weeks away from my delivery date. She pushed on my bulging belly again. "Well, Chris, I hate to tell you, but this baby seems to be positioned butt-down. At this point in the pregnancy, Baby should already be turned with their head down."

          I had worked in labor and delivery at another hospital several years earlier, so I knew what that meant.

          "You should maybe get yourself psyched up for the possibility of a Cesarean."

          I nodded in understanding, but thought to myself, "There ain't no stinkin' way I'm having a C-section. This baby is going to turn."

          The next week, when she checked me, Baby's head was down, pointing at the birth canal. One of the few things this child of mine ever made easy on me.

Nick and the dog we had for a while when we were living in the mobile home. Maybe doesn't have much to do with this story, but it's where we were living when I was pregnant with Val. There were a few pictures I had in my head that would fit better (including one of that ultrasound), but I couldn't find any of them. 

He is Still Risen

Only last week, I took down the last of my Christmas decorations. Okay, it was really a snowman welcome sign, but still, it reminded me of Christmas. But it does make me a little crazy when people take down their tree and other decorations by New Year's.

          I feel the same way about Easter. Just last Sunday, we celebrated the rising of our Savior from the grave, our salvation for all time secured because He died and rose again on the third day. But everyone has moved on to other things – spring, yard work, summer vacation plans.

          I think that any day which is not spent celebrating Jesus' birth should be spent celebrating His rebirth. So, here are the Bible verses about how Jesus appeared to some of His followers later that first Easter day on the road to Emmaus.

That same day two of Jesus’ followers were walking to the village of Emmaus, seven miles from Jerusalem. As they walked along they were talking about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things, Jesus himself suddenly came and began walking with them. But God kept them from recognizing him.

He asked them, “What are you discussing so intently as you walk along?”

They stopped short, sadness written across their faces. Then one of them, Cleopas, replied, “You must be the only person in Jerusalem who hasn’t heard about all the things that have happened there the last few days.”

“What things?” Jesus asked.

“The things that happened to Jesus, the man from Nazareth,” they said. “He was a prophet who did powerful miracles, and he was a mighty teacher in the eyes of God and all the people. But our leading priests and other religious leaders handed him over to be condemned to death, and they crucified him. We had hoped he was the Messiah who had come to rescue Israel. This all happened three days ago.

“Then some women from our group of his followers were at his tomb early this morning, and they came back with an amazing report. They said his body was missing, and they had seen angels who told them Jesus is alive! Some of our men ran out to see, and sure enough, his body was gone, just as the women had said.”

Then Jesus said to them, “You foolish people! You find it so hard to believe all that the prophets wrote in the Scriptures. Wasn’t it clearly predicted that the Messiah would have to suffer all these things before entering his glory?” Then Jesus took them through the writings of Moses and all the prophets, explaining from all the Scriptures the things concerning himself.

By this time they were nearing Emmaus and the end of their journey. Jesus acted as if he were going on, but they begged him, “Stay the night with us, since it is getting late.” So he went home with them. As they sat down to eat, he took the bread and blessed it. Then he broke it and gave it to them. Suddenly, their eyes were opened, and they recognized him. And at that moment he disappeared!

They said to each other, “Didn’t our hearts burn within us as he talked with us on the road and explained the Scriptures to us?” And within the hour they were on their way back to Jerusalem. There they found the eleven disciples and the others who had gathered with them, who said, “The Lord has really risen! He appeared to Peter.” (Luke 24:13-34, New Living Translation)

Almost a Miracle - Val's Story, Chapter 2

When our son, Nick, turned three in January of 1989, I talked to his father about having another baby. I didn’t want Nick to be raised alone; I wanted him to have a younger brother or sister, so he’d always have someone to play with and fight with.

          I went off the pill in April or May, so we could work on Baby #2.

          At the end of July, we went camping but got rained out. We scrapped the tent and found a small cabin for rent a few miles away. It only had one bed, so I tucked Nick into bed on the couch before my husband and I went into the bedroom.

          A week or two later, my husband’s back went out – I can’t remember how, but his back had bothered him before. Usually, a few visits to the chiropractor healed him. Not this time.

          On a Saturday night, I took him to the ER because the pain had gotten so bad that he couldn’t urinate. After some tests, they called in a back specialist, who determined that he had a ruptured disc, which was pushing on the nerves that controlled the part of his body that allowed him to go pee and get an erection.

          Or that’s the way I remember it. Since then, I have worked in the medical field for close to thirty years, including time with a urologist, and I have never heard of that happening to anyone else. But anyway.

          The specialist claimed my husband needed an emergency surgery on that disc, or he might need a catheter and be impotent for the rest of his life. So into surgery he went on Sunday afternoon.

          During that time, I thought I might already be pregnant. I was having heartburn, but I also hadn’t missed a period yet. Too soon to tell. But I thought, if this surgery didn’t work and my husband couldn’t have sex again, it would be like this baby was a miracle. Their conception timed just right.

          Of course, I never thought of the horrible consequences such a failed surgery would bring on my husband and our relationship. I must have already had baby brain.

          As it turned out, the surgery was a success, and he had an uneventful and full recovery. A few weeks later, one of the lab techs at the clinic where I worked privately showed me the slip of paper with the word “positive” circled in red.

Okay for One Day

“I am so happy.” My daughter Val was eating breakfast at the kitchen counter one Saturday morning. “I have a good job, my own car, and a wonderful boyfriend. Everything is going great for me right now.”

          I don’t remember where she was working at the time, who her boyfriend was, or what car she was driving. She went through all three of those things with regularity at that time in her life. I do think she was all of nineteen years old that day.

          She hugged me as she left the house, climbed into her car, and drove off down our driveway, a fresh layer of snow under her tires. As her mother, having lived those nineteen years with her, I knew these good days would continue to wax and wane.  

          Five minutes later, the phone rang.

          “I ran in the ditch by Bob’s house.”

          Bob was an elderly neighbor who lived a quarter mile from our house. Just past his house was a small hill on a curve. On many winter days, my own car would gently slide through that piece of the road.

          “I’ll be right there.” Her stepdad was at work, and I was sure my vehicle couldn’t pull out her larger car, but I had to do something.

          When I got to the curve, I found her car buried in the ditch and Val standing at the side of the road, cell phone to her ear.

          “My boyfriend and his friends are on their way.” She said the boyfriend’s name, but, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t remember which one it was.

          “It’ll be okay.” I drew her into a hug.

          “Why me?” she asked. “I wasn’t even going that fast.”

          I doubted that, but didn’t tell her what I was thinking. I just repeated, “It will be okay.”

          And for that one day, it was okay.      

She had more than a few incidents with vehicles.
At least no one let her drive this truck. Picture is from 2014. 

The Easter Bunny

Since the middle of January, I've been writing once a week about relatives I have lost over the years. I'm not sure that you saw this coming, but all of that was in prelude to the family member I lost most recently and that I will never get over. But you know that since I find the greatest solace in writing, I would eventually subject you to a memoir of my daughter's life.

          I plan to start sharing Val's life on Wednesday; however, yesterday I was reminded of a story I had completely forgotten about. And since yesterday was Easter, I had to share this one now.

          Val held many jobs over the years. Some of them she quit for something more to her liking, but she was also fired from several. But whatever the case, she would dig in her heels and search for employment wherever she could.  

          She lost a job early one spring, and when no one was hiring, she took a part-time, seasonal gig at the mall, doing the last thing I would have envisioned. She was the Easter Bunny's assistant.

          She hated it! I can't remember what her costume was – it had to be better than a giant rabbit – but she still hated what she had to wear. The kiddos who she hoisted onto the bunny's lap were generally spoiled and obnoxious. She hated their behavior. The pay wasn’t like a dangling carrot, but it was enough to mess with her unemployment. 

          I can't remember where she worked next, but it wasn't long after that that she hopped on a respectable job again.

          But that was our Val. There was always something that sprang up in her life that was out of the ordinary. Oh, if only she were still here to tell those stories.

Nick and Val, Easter 1995 (the only Easter picture I have of them)

 

He is Risen Indeed

    Now after the Sabbath, as the first day of the week began to dawn, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to see the tomb. 2 And behold, there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat on it. 3 His countenance was like lightning, and his clothing as white as snow. 4 And the guards shook for fear of him, and became like dead men.

5 But the angel answered and said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. 6 He is not here; for He is risen, as He said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. 7 And go quickly and tell His disciples that He is risen from the dead, and indeed He is going before you into Galilee; there you will see Him. Behold, I have told you.”

8 So they went out quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to bring His disciples word.

9 And as they went to tell His disciples, behold, Jesus met them, saying, “Rejoice!” So they came and held Him by the feet and worshiped Him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go and tell My brethren to go to Galilee, and there they will see Me.” (Matthew 28:1-10, New King James Version)

He is Risen, He is Risen indeed, and we have nothing to fear.

In Court

          I was selected for jury duty for the month of March. Over the years, two other times I had received that letter in the mail, which everyone dreads, but the trials throughout those months were canceled. Not so lucky this time.

          I had to appear at the courthouse not just once, but twice last month. And this is how it went, in case you've never had the experience, or if they do it differently where you live.  

          First, all of us prospective jurors (about 40 to 45 people) waited for over a half an hour sitting on the most uncomfortable benches in the larger courtroom. I'm sure that the prosecution and the defense were trying a last-ditch effort to settle out of court. No such luck, either time I was there.

          Finally, they ushered us into one of the smaller courtrooms, gave us a few instructions, and then read off the names of the 23 people chosen at random to move to the jury box.

          The judge asked them a bunch of questions, such as whether they knew the accused or any of the witnesses who would be called, or if they had any strong feelings about what the defendant was charged with. It was a very long process, since whenever anyone raised their hand to answer "yes" to a question, they had to explain why. If the judge released them based on their answers, the clerk of courts would randomly pick another name from those still in the back of the room. And then the judge would have to ask them if they would have answered "yes" to any of the questions he had already asked.

          When the judge finished his questioning, the prosecuting attorney and then the defense attorney asked all their questions. They couldn't release anyone at that point – only the judge could – but they made notes on who they believed would be biased and who would be more likely to vote on their side (or so I imagine).

          After they were done with that, the two attorneys passed lists of their chosen jurors back and forth until they agreed on who would go home and who would be stuck in the juror's box. Someone read off the thirteen names (twelve, plus a spare in case someone got sick or something), and everyone else went home.

          I don't know. Does that sound convoluted to you? Couldn't they streamline the process to make it easier on everyone?

          In the end, though, since I was released from both trials, it only took up three hours of my life, and I got paid mileage.

          But, wow, what would have been the verdict in Jesus' trial if this had been how they did things back then? Except we know that God's plan from the beginning was for His Son to be sacrificed for our sins.

13 Pilate called the people together with the leading priests and the rulers. 14 He said to them, “You brought this man to me, saying he makes trouble among the people. But I have questioned him before you all, and I have not found him guilty of what you say. 15 Also, Herod found nothing wrong with him; he sent him back to us. Look, he has done nothing for which he should die. 16 So, after I punish him, I will let him go free.” [17 Every year at the Passover Feast, Pilate had to release one prisoner to the people.]

18 But the people shouted together, “Take this man away! Let Barabbas go free!” 19 (Barabbas was a man who was in prison for his part in a riot in the city and for murder.)

20 Pilate wanted to let Jesus go free and told this to the crowd. 21 But they shouted again, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

22 A third time Pilate said to them, “Why? What wrong has he done? I can find no reason to kill him. So I will have him punished and set him free.”

23 But they continued to shout, demanding that Jesus be crucified. Their yelling became so loud that 24 Pilate decided to give them what they wanted. (Luke 23:13-24, New Century Version)