The Road to Mercy (30 page)

It was difficult to see the red on Alex’s face in the moonlight, but Beth knew it was there. Her caregiver, neighbor, and now best friend had been seeing Ben Abrams for several weeks. Beth had never seen her so happy.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Beth said. “And don’t you tell him.” She wagged a playful finger at her friend.

“I don’t know, Bethany.”

“It’s okay. Really.” Beth tried to assure her. “He told me how to do it a long time ago. I’ll take it slowly.”

“But—”

“Besides, I think my dissection is healed.”

“I thought the last test still showed a problem?” Alex sat back in surprise.

“It did. But something happened at the Noah Awards.” Beth repositioned her body, leaning into the corner of the mudroom wall. “One of the singers, a new friend of Josh’s, prayed for me.” She studied Alex’s face again. “I know you will understand what I’m about to say, perhaps some people wouldn’t, but I felt something. In my head.”

Beth stroked her left temple with her fingers. “And in my spirit,” she said. “I believe God healed me.” A tear slid down her cheek.

“Wow . . . well, of course, that’s possible. I just hope you’re ready for the physical and emotional symptoms of withdrawal. It’s not going to be easy. You know that from the last attempt.”

“I’m ready,” Beth said. “I want to do this while Josh is away. We have just over two weeks to get me through it before he comes home. Will you help me?”

Alex thought for a moment. “Yes, with one condition. That you talk to Dr. Myers and make sure you’re doing what’s right for the baby.”

“I’ve already done that,” Beth said. “And she has gone over everything with me.”

“Then, I’m ready when you are.”

Beth grabbed her friend’s hands in hers. “It’s going to take a lot from you. You’ll have to stay with me night and day again. And . . . I’ll probably be grumpy. I might as well tell you now.” Beth offered Alex a wry smile.

“You’ve been grumpy before.” Alex grinned and then leaned forward to give Beth a hug. “What do we need to do?”

“Come on inside, and I’ll show you the schedule.” Beth slowly got to her feet. “Tomorrow, I’ll reduce my dosage by ten percent.”

Despite concerns, Bethany knew she could do this.

She walked, almost confidently, through the door. She was in control of her destiny.

The interior waiting room wasn’t as cheerfully decorated as the lobby. Several girls about her age, and one older woman, occupied the brown leather captain’s chairs, which lined the dark green walls.

No one looked up when she entered. The clinic counselor instructed her to take a seat, and Bethany fumbled through the magazines on the corner table before settling into a chair.

The ambient sounds in the room, although low, contributed to her discomfort. In the far corner, a blonde girl, who appeared to be a few years younger than her, cried softly. She held a child’s teddy bear tightly to her stomach. Her arms crossed around it while, with her head tilted down and her legs pulled up, she sat in an almost fetal position.

A few minutes later, a woman dressed as a nurse called for the young blonde. She wiped her eyes and brushed her long hair from her face. Then she stood, straightening her shoulders and throwing her head back.

Still holding the bear, the girl grabbed her backpack. She appeared to be no more than seventeen or eighteen years old.

As the young blonde approached, her faded blue eyes met Bethany’s.

“Here,” she said, thrusting the bear at Bethany. “Maybe this will help you. The wait is over for me.”

Bethany took the stuffed toy and cradled it in her arms.

“Good luck,” she said. But the young girl didn’t reply. Instead, she stiffened her shoulders and followed the nurse down the hallway.

Several other women were called while Bethany waited. Her confidence in what she was about to do wavered as she watched the faces of those going before her. At one point, an older woman came into the room and sat beside her.

Most likely noticing Bethany’s unease, the woman leaned close to her ear and whispered, “This is my third abortion, dear. No need to worry.”

“Bethany McKinney,” the nurse called from a nearby room.

Bethany stood, clasping the bear close to her side, and walked on shaky legs across the room and through the doorway.

“Have a seat.” The middle-aged woman flipped through paperwork, then asked Bethany to confirm her identity and her age.

“You spoke to a counselor, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

The nurse checked off a small, square box. “Any questions about the procedure?”

“No.”

Another box checked.

Their conversation continued for fifteen minutes or so. More questions and checked boxes. “How many weeks since your last period?”

“About eight,” Bethany said.

“Do you have any concerns?”

“How long will this take?”

“Most of our patients leave within two hours of the procedure. We follow federal guidelines.”

“That’s good,” was all Bethany could think to say.

“Have you considered options?” The woman asked matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you certify that you have been counseled about other options?”

“Yes, I understand.” Bethany bit her lip.

“Sign here, please.” The woman gave her the clipboard and the pen.

After Bethany signed the paper, the woman stamped it with a notary insignia, signed it, and placed it in a folder.

She opened the door to a small antechamber and motioned for Bethany to follow her. “There’s a bathroom to your right. You’ll need to put on a gown. They’re on the shelf.” She pointed to everything as she spoke. “There’s a locker to store your clothes and personal belongings. If you have one with you, please turn your phone off and leave it in the locker. Once you are finished, take a seat here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Within a few minutes of Bethany completing her instructions, another older lady escorted her into a medical suite off the small room. The gray-haired woman looked like somebody’s grandmother and smelled of gingerbread.

“Have a seat up here,” she said. “And lie down.”

Bethany’s hands trembled as she did what she was told.

“Place your feet in these stirrups and try to get comfortable.” She helped Bethany adjust her body. “Slide down a bit.”

The grandmother-nurse exuded warmth when she explained about the procedure. “The doctor will use the suction aspiration
method. It won’t take more than fifteen minutes. We’ll give you a list of dos and don’ts when you are ready to leave. Okay?”

“Okay.” Bethany wiped a tear from her eye.

“Is this your first abortion?”

“Yes.”

“You will do fine, dear. Don’t be afraid. One day you will have children when the time is right.”

Bethany nodded. “Will I feel anything?”

“You will likely have cramps or a slight tugging sensation. I’m about to give you a shot to calm you and a local anesthesia, which will numb your pain. You may have some nausea or sweating. That’s completely normal.”

Bethany’s urge to run screaming out of the room was immediately met by a prick of her skin. The antidote to her fear had been applied. Yet nothing could take away the feeling of betrayal and dread that had begun to set in.

When the doctor entered the room, she knew she had made a mistake. But the sense of pain and regret emerging from deep inside her was somehow lost in the moment. Speaking few words, the doctor went about his work.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Alex asked.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything,” Beth said. “I’m ready.”

If she could break free of the drugs, she could prove to God that she was doing her best—and then everything would be okay with her baby. At least, that’s what she hoped. She was willing to pay the penance. But that didn’t make it easier.

A few hours later, spiders of pain began to crawl up and down her legs. She rubbed her hand along her calf muscles in an attempt to bring relief. The leg pain was followed by sweat and clamminess. Soon, a snaking discomfort slithered through her insides.

Two days later, her craving for the narcotics raged within her system, and she wondered if she had made the wrong decision. Was it possible to deal with this without checking into a hospital?

Yet, she knew, if she did, Josh would have to know. She could not face him if she failed again.

The pain and restlessness interrupted her sleep. She would get up each night, walk around the room, and pray. Alex slept in the chair by the bed. She stayed by her side and walked with her. When Beth’s body and mind were exhausted, they would catch an hour or two of sleep.

They were both tired. But Alex always endured, no matter what. Even during Beth’s temper tantrums. Her moods were as unpredictable as her symptoms. But Alex never appeared to be offended. She refused to accept anything but the steadfast belief that Beth could do this.

Beth suspected that Alex spoke with Dr. Abrams each day to discuss their progress. That thought reassured her. It likely bolstered Alex too. The growing relationship between her caregiver and her doctor had been a positive side effect of Beth’s illness.

Step-down days were the worst. There were times when she wanted to crawl outside her skin. The restlessness was a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied. And she had uncanny bouts of sneezing. All signs that her body was being extricated from the bonds of its captor.

In two weeks, she had gone from seventy-five milligrams to twenty-five milligrams of morphine, and she couldn’t wait
to tell Josh. She knew he would be proud of her, but she was determined to surprise him—face to face, when he returned home from the road. He would be here soon, giving her a reason to stay strong.

She needed the boost because her worst symptoms could very well lie ahead. Today would be her first without any narcotics at all. She could already feel the tug between desire and determination. Insufferable anxiety would follow.

The child inside her stirred.
Dear Lord, please ease my baby
.

“Let’s have a cup of tea and lunch,” Alex suggested, peeking her head into the living room where Beth sat. “You have to keep your strength up. Besides, the baby needs nutrition.”

Alex always knew what to say. Beth nodded and stood on shaky legs. She didn’t care that much about eating, but she wanted her child to be well.

They walked together into the kitchen, where Alex had laid out an English tea, using Beth’s best china.

“Oh, my!” Beth hiccupped. “How wonderful.”

“Chicken salad sandwiches and grape cake with mascarpone whipped cream for dessert.” Alex’s eyes sparkled as she watched Beth’s reaction. “We’re celebrating your first day without the drugs.”

After Alex said grace, Beth unfolded her napkin and picked up her fork for a bite of the dessert.

“So how does Dr. Abrams say I’m doing?” Beth asked.

A mischievous grin spread across Alex’s face. “How did you know I had been consulting with him?”

“You don’t think I expected you to let me do this on my own, do you?” Beth sighed. “Yum. That’s great cake!”

“Eat your sandwich first.” Alex gave her a stern look.

“You didn’t answer my first question.” Beth placed her fork on the table and picked up a quarter of her sandwich.

“Ben said he’s proud of you,” Alex blushed.

“You’re becoming close, aren’t you?” Beth asked while chewing.

“I hope so. I really like him.” Alex scrunched her face, sending a posse of freckles upward toward her aqua-blue eyes.

“I’m praying for you both,” Beth said. “He’s a lucky man.” She crunched on a carrot stick. “Does he have any idea how good you cook?”

Alex smiled, and then sobered. “Thank you for praying for him. He’s seeking spiritual direction right now.”

“No wonder God has you in his life,” Beth said. “I’m so thankful for the good things that have come from the bad.” She placed her hand on her tummy.

Two days later, Beth sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving. She could now dare to believe that she was free. Alex had been a strong and unwavering coach for the past two-and-a-half weeks. She had coaxed when Beth showed weakness and screamed when Beth had become belligerent. She had wiped tears—and even shared them—when Beth cried in desperation. Then she had prayed over her with a sweet and gentle spirit, which so eloquently revealed the heart of a friend.