“That means a lot to me, Tyler. It gives me the confidence to see this through.”
“Then make it happen.”
In that moment, Kellen caught glimpses of all that might come to be…
By nothing else but God’s grace—and unwarranted mercy.
33
Juliet’s most recent visit to the gynecologist wasn’t altogether positive. She remained healthy. The baby continued to develop and grow, but protein levels in her system had increased slightly, straying well into the high territory. Her blood pressure was under control, thanks to Methyldopa, but when Doctor Roth factored in Juliet’s increasing bouts of Braxton Hicks contractions, the decision was made to increase her checkups from bi-weekly to weekly as concerns remained in the battle against preeclampsia.
Safety measures aside, Juliet had never felt better. She knew the best thing to do was continue on with a healthy diet and exercise routine. She also had to believe an improved emotional outlook helped her efforts to stay strong.
For that reason, she hauled herself out of bed early a few days after Kellen’s announcement and slipped on a pair of cotton shorts, a sport bra, and a loose fitting sleeveless shirt. After strapping on a pair of running shoes she trotted outside, fashioning her hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of her way.
She pressed her hands and forearms flat against the brick wall of the garage, stepping away until her body was at an angle to the structure. Suitably braced, she stretched her thighs and calves. Next she stretched gently and slowly from the waist, extending her arms above her head.
Minutes into her warm up, Kellen joined her. Dressed in similar athletic fashion, his unexpected arrival tripped her senses. In passing, he smiled into her eyes and glided her ponytail softly through his fingertips. She loved the sensation of tingles his quiet gesture stirred.
Looking up at him, she felt shy and wistful. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Kellen stretched by leaning against the garage as well and pulling up on his right leg by gripping his foot. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“You can
try
,” she sassed. She offered a teasing glance that held no restraint or fear. No doubts.
“Oh, I see. So
that’s
how it is. A
challenge
?”
Juliet arched a brow, cocking her head in a playful pose. She winked at him.
During that heady instant, she stored the image of him, locking it in her heart to pull out and savor whenever she wished. He was tall, lithe, and absurdly handsome. His olive skin was kissed by sunlight that performed a golden dance through the mahogany waves of his hair.
Without warning, Kellen tugged her into the confines of the garage. He backed her against the wall and claimed her lips, taking her on an electric kiss that moved fast and steep, lifting her up into a beautiful, perfect spiral. Body and soul she caught fire for him as the longings she had held in check, the ones she had banked over and over again, burst into life. She clung to his shoulders.
Kellen’s sigh danced against her skin. She sagged against him, weak and submissive—truly welcoming. She trembled when he resumed a kiss that sealed her heart to his completely.
For the first time in months, that was OK. She fed off him and his love the way she always had, and the moment felt like coming home.
A cool breeze skated over her skin, awakening her senses even further as Kellen moved back just a bit, outlining her face with the long, lush stroke of his fingertips. One look into his heavy-lidded eyes and her mind spun. Openness and love lived in their depths.
“Juliet…thank you for continuing to try. I want you back. All the way back. I’m grateful we’re coming so much closer now.” He slid a fingertip slowly against her lips. His eyes tracked the motion, darkened and deep. Juliet dissolved into an all-over ache and released a quiet exclamation of pleasure. “When I say that, I’m not just referring to this.” With a gesture of his head, he indicated their intimate position. “I’m talking about every aspect of our relationship. That brings me so much happiness.
You
bring me so much happiness.”
“Kellen…” She could barely whisper his name. Wrapped in his arms, she tucked in tight, savoring the warmth and solid security of being held deep in his embrace. The moment brought to mind an image—that of a precious treasure being protected and guarded by a noble warrior.
He inched away. “Let’s jog.”
The gentle way he parted from her caused Juliet to quiver. “I couldn’t run right now if I tried.” Attempting to catch her breath, she remained a lax, dazed semblance of herself.
Kellen answered with an intimate look that wreaked havoc on her nerve endings. He gave her arm a tug. “Come on. I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”
Regaining her bearings, Juliet let out an exaggerated whine. “I’m pregnant you know. I need to be treated with kid gloves and stuff.”
Kellen stretched his arms over his head while he moved away, trailing laughter. “You’re seriously going to play the pregnancy card?”
“Yep.” Juliet’s heart felt so light it carried her away. She fluttered her lashes, openly flirting when she brushed past, and then took off like the wind…or as close to the wind as her heavily encumbered body would allow.
Kellen caught up easily but she could tell he kept to a deliberately temperate pace. Juliet stole glances at him every now and then as they ran. Marlene was right. Physical surrender would be the last barrier they crossed, and when they did, it was going to be a return to everything beautiful between them.
Fully renewed by his love, Juliet accepted and anticipated what was to come.
****
Kellen monitored Juliet carefully. Their strides were steady and smooth, but slow enough that she could maintain a healthy workout without risk of injury or overdoing.
She kept up like a champ, and his mind drifted. If he could drink from the air around them, it would taste of freedom, goodness, and second chances. Second chances he should never have needed to claim in the first place.
But that, as Pastor Gene might say, was the past, so instead of negativity, he focused on the sacrificial forgiveness and salvation of Christ. God’s own Son saw to a full and sins-forgotten reconciliation when life was embraced anew, with sincere contrition.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.
The words from 2 Corinthians, chapter five, verse seventeen, reverberated; Kellen lifted his face to the morning sun and praised God silently as he moved slightly ahead of Juliet on a winding, narrow pathway that cut through a municipal park near their home.
Still, he tracked her peripherally, enjoying the vision of her glistening skin, the rosy tint of her cheeks and her soft puffs of breath as they continued to run.
Fellow joggers blew past, offering silent nods. Despite the deepening chill, families dressed in sweatshirts and jeans scrambled and jumped, enjoying Frisbee games, dog chases and ball tosses. One family in particular caught Kellen’s eye—one he could easily associate with himself and Juliet in times to come. The mother pushed a stroller one handed. Mom and Dad, meanwhile, held hands with their second child, lifting him up and swinging him intermittently while they walked along and chatted.
He couldn’t wait to hold his son or daughter.
The thought no sooner dissipated than Juliet slowed, unexpectedly and dramatically. At first, he noticed the way she wobbled a bit but didn’t pay that much mind since this portion of the running path was a little uneven. Nevertheless, instinct drove Kellen to decrease his speed and aim for Juliet just as she stopped completely, heaving and bending down to grip her knees. She fell forward, but he caught her before she hit the ground. Her breathing was erratic and her body felt tight and rigid. Kellen became an anchor when she toppled against him in a stiff, dead weight.
She continued to gasp, losing the fight for air.
“Juliet?” He rubbed her back, guiding her off the path and onto a patch of grass near a tree where he could prop her up or lay her down if necessary.
Her body wouldn’t bend, so he laid her out prone. It felt to Kellen as though she were in the throes of a seizure. Her eyelids fluttered crazily, and she tried to speak. “Ke…I …can’t…I…” She heaved and heaved. “…can’t breathe…”
Kellen yanked his cell phone from the pocket of his shorts. He made ready to dial 9-1-1 while panic swept through him. Still, he didn’t want to scare Juliet. He rubbed her arm then settled his free hand against her rounded stomach. It was unyielding and constricted. He gulped.
The baby. My wife…
“Juliet, I want you to listen to what I’m saying. Focus on me. Focus on my voice. You’ll be OK. Your blood is rushing and your lungs are tightening up. Anxiety will feed whatever is making you go tight. Close your eyes and feel your body, muscle by muscle. Focus on relaxing. Let it pass…”
Though he kept his tone soothing and calm, Kellen dialed emergency services while he tried to coach her through the crisis. An operator answered promptly and recorded his location assuring that help was nearby and on the way.
Juliet shuddered. Her eyes glazed over. Kellen’s panic increased. He continued to touch her, doing whatever he could to lend comfort.
She sipped air in tiny, shallow bursts that sounded like nothing much more than horrific rasps.
“Baby—” Her eyes fluttered. She stumbled over the simple word. Her head sank onto his shoulder as she lost the battle to stay conscious, but at least she was drawing in air—bit-by-bit. Kellen became frantic, not knowing what to do. Tears raced down his face as her body went lax and she slid toward unconsciousness.
“The baby will be fine. Just rest. And breathe. We’ll get you to the hospital.” Could she even hear him? Sense him? No matter—Kellen kept the tone of his voice smooth and assuring. Terror grabbed his chest and held on fast.
Dear God, no. Not, now. Please help her! Please help us!
And please, dear God, help our baby!
Minutes later, the sound of approaching siren whistles split the air.
34
“Juliet has been wheeled into pre-op. You can scrub in if you’d like, but indications warrant an emergency C-section. She’s gone into labor, but she’s lapsing in and out of consciousness and won’t be able to deliver naturally.”
The curtained off cubicle Kellen occupied was a space he couldn’t wait to vacate. He sat next to the empty spot where Juliet’s gurney had been stationed just moments ago. He shifted uncomfortably in a metal chair covered by sticky, green vinyl. Slouching forward on his knees, he raked his fingers through his hair. He wanted to cut loose with a tormented sob. He wanted to sink to his knees and pray with every ounce of energy he possessed.
Instead, he forced himself to focus on the doctor’s diagnosis—on medical procedures that might save Juliet’s life—and the life of their unborn child. Ripping his heart from his chest would be preferable.
“We’ve paged Doctor Roth,” the physician continued. “She’s on her way in. Meantime, there are several factors that seem to be working against Juliet right now—for example, her inability to remain conscious, and our inability to stop the contractions. Fortunately the initial seizure hasn’t been followed by additional episodes.”
“But what happened? Can you explain why this overcame her so quickly? She’s healthy and I watched her during the course of our run. She was fine. I swear she wasn’t overdoing it or I would have—”
“I understand, Mr. Rossiter. There’s nothing you or Juliet did wrong. According to your wife’s chart, Doctor Roth has been monitoring some factors that affected her pregnancy.”
“Yes.”
“The issues she faced led to a condition referred to as preeclampsia.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, but she’s been taking care of it.”
The doctor nodded. “Unfortunately there are instances when preventive measures won’t stop the condition from occurring. Think of it this way, the
pre
in preeclampsia are the measures Doctor Roth took as she monitored Juliet’s pregnancy in order to prevent eclampsia, which is the type of seizure that can lead to unconsciousness, and premature labor—just like Juliet is facing today.”
Kellen’s mind went into a sickening tailspin as he attempted to process the terms and information.
“That’s another reason we need to deliver the baby as quickly as possible. We want to get both mom and baby out of danger. As you know, we’ve tried to stop the contractions with no success.”
Kellen stared helplessly at the man. This ER doctor demonstrated a level of patience that had probably been honed by years of witnessing crisis pregnancies just like this one. That was fine enough, he supposed, but this was
his
child. This set of circumstances was tied to
his
future.
“I just don’t understand how she could turn so critical so quickly. She’s a healthy woman. She’s strong.”
“But that’s only part of the issue, Mr. Rossiter. Let me see if I can explain.” Following a few screen touches to the tablet-style computer he held, the doctor tilted the screen toward Kellen. On it was depicted the diagram of a uterus with various notations and directional arrows. “In most cases, preeclampsia begins when the placenta doesn’t grow the usual network of blood vessels deep in the wall of the uterus. The only cure, if you will, is delivery of the baby. Juliet has been healthy, the baby has also seemed to develop well, but the seizure acts as a type of endgame that forces delivery of the baby before the mother’s—and baby’s—life is endangered.”
“But that birth will come almost seven weeks too soon.”
While Kellen tried to grasp that fact, the ER physician continued. “Doctor Roth indicated she’s about ten minutes away. Why don’t you follow me to the OR, and we’ll get you prepped?”
Kellen lifted from the chair and followed the doctor’s lead. The attending doctor hadn’t responded to his comment, and that told Kellen a lot. No matter what he witnessed in the moments to come, it would become part of the tapestry of his life. No matter what happened next, his marriage to Juliet and the bond he would form with his as-yet unborn child would be forever changed. The colors of that tapestry were up to God—be they woven in dark hues, with deep, saturating colors, or bright and vibrant with the shades of new hope and joy.