Alison Strobel - The Heart of Memory

Ten minutes later she dragged herself from bed and into the shower. The improvement in mood that usually came with a hot shower eluded her yet again. She combed out her hair but skipped styling it, then dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt before going downstairs. She’d start with a good breakfast; she hadn’t had one since she’d been home. She knew she needed to eat, despite the fact that she had no appetite. But once she faced the refrigerator, all inspiration left her. She shut it and slumped onto the couch instead.

“I thought I heard you down here.” Shaun came out of his office and kissed the top of her head. “Just getting ready to go. Can I make you something to eat?”

“That’s sweet, but I don’t know what to have. Just make me anything.”

“You’ve got it.” He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Savannah to stare out the window at the stand of trees at the back of their property. After a week spent this way, she had every tree just about memorized.

Shaun set a plate with toast and grapes on the table beside her, and held out a mug of tea. “Anything else I can do for you before I leave?”

“No, but do you think I should go to the doctor?”

“That’s your call, hon. I know how you are about doctors.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m just afraid something is really wrong.”

He sat beside her. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. This just doesn’t seem right, though. No one else is sick; it’s not like this is going around.”

“Maybe not here, but maybe it is in Omaha, or wherever you were before that stop.”

She sighed. “Maybe. But…”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her against his chest. “Look, Van, you need to listen to your gut. If you think it’s serious, then make an appointment with Dr. Helms. But if you’re just discouraged because it’s taking so long, then look for something to do today that will keep your mind busy so you’re not dwelling on it. It’s not like you’re not improving at all; your fever is gone and you don’t hurt as much, right?”

“Yes, you’re right.” She sat up. “Go to work, honey. I’ll talk to you later.”

He gave her another kiss, then left her with her breakfast. She opened her Bible and read while she ate, though her mind was only half engaged with the text. The other half was thinking about her symptoms. When she realized she wasn’t comprehending anything she read, she shut her Bible and opened her journal to the back page and wrote “Symptoms.” She followed it with a bullet-point list.

· Weakness

· Exhaustion

· Melancholia

Writing them down made her realize she didn’t have as many symptoms as she thought she did. The ones she did have didn’t seem as concerning when she wrote them out. Shaun was probably right, she was just discouraged.

Although…

She went to the bookshelf in their bedroom and pulled a medical encyclopedia from the lower shelf. She’d purchased the thick volume when Jessie was born, paranoid that her daughter might be sick one day and she wouldn’t know what to do for her, though in the end it had rarely been used. She flipped to the flow charts that helped diagnose based on symptoms and checked each one until she found the one she wanted. She moved her finger along the page, following the path from box to box, until she reached the end.

Possible Diagnoses:

Anemia

Underactive Thyroid

Pregnancy

She shut the book. Pregnancy?

She laughed out loud for a brief moment, then moved more quickly than she had in a week to her Daytimer. She flipped the pages back until she saw the red circle, then wracked her brain for a memory of the last time she and Shaun had been intimate. She’d been on the tour for three months… but made a stop at home in July. She looked again at the date and did the math.

“Oh my goodness.”

It wasn’t possible, was it? She was forty-seven years old, for heaven’s sake. Underactive thyroid made much more sense – but would that hit as fast as this had? She wondered the same about anemia. Whereas pregnancy symptoms could hit strong out of nowhere. She’d been pregnant three times, and each time the signs had turned on as though flipped by a switch.

She thought back to her pregnancies, looking for similarities between how she felt then and now. The exhaustion, the lethargy, even the blue mood – she’d experienced all of them. Granted, she hadn’t had a fever. But what if I really did have the flu first?

It was possible. She could hardly believe it, but it was definitely possible.

She crawled back under the covers, seeking a safe place to let her emotions unravel. A baby, at this age, with their only other child already halfway through college-talk about completely un-ideal. They’d never know each other, Jessie and the baby. Jessie would be more like an aunt than a sister. And at her age, Savannah would certainly be considered high-risk, which would mean frequent appointments, ultrasounds, and other medical interventions she was not a fan of. Not to mention the toll it would take on her ministry. The timing was, in all ways, absolutely horrible.

She pulled the sheets to her chin and curled on her side, eyes squeezed shut. What was the point of even thinking about the effects of a baby on her life? If she really was pregnant, then the likelihood of her carrying it to term was small. She couldn’t bear the thought of going through another miscarriage – the dreams dashed, the hopeless labor, the raging emotions with no baby to hold on to and anchor her. Please, God, not again.

She stayed in bed, overwhelmed at the possibility, until the sun shifted and shone on her face. She sat up and forced herself from bed. She knew it was ridiculous to let her imagination run like that when it was possible to confirm – or rule out – the pregnancy with a home test. She just had to go buy one.

She hadn’t left the house in a week. The idea of going out was enough to distract her. She pulled a baseball cap over her head and tied on her gym shoes, focusing her thoughts on where she would go to buy a test and not on what it might tell her.

She drove to the pharmacy six blocks from their house, then turned around and left. It would not be a good idea to risk being seen by someone who knew her. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to know this might be happening. She got on the freeway and went south, then took the last exit before leaving Colorado Springs and stopped at the closest gas station to get directions to a pharmacy. She still might be seen, but it was much less likely.

It felt good to be out. She spotted a coffee shop and nearly stopped, but then remembered caffeine wasn’t good for the baby. Not that it matters. It’s not like it will live long.

The callousness of her thoughts surprised her. That wasn’t like her-even if it were true. And what if this is the one that sticks? God could work a miracle, right?

She pulled into the pharmacy parking lot and shut off the car, dwelling on that last thought. He could work a miracle. She really could have another baby, if God willed it. And to get pregnant now, after all this time, even though they used protection-that really would be God, wouldn’t it? He wouldn’t help her conceive only to put her through the same pain yet again, would he?

She entered the store, eyes peeled for familiar faces, and sought out the right aisle. She was stunned when she found it. It had been fifteen years since the last time she’d been pregnant, and the home pregnancy test industry had exploded since then. With so many choices – and having taxed her mental energy too much already just by driving – she couldn’t discern which test was the best. She grabbed the most expensive box, reasoning that it must be the most accurate, then grabbed one more just to be safe.