Part 34: The Perfect Crisis

Nothing tries a marriage like a crisis. How ever more trying is that which is unintentionally self inflicted, one so intricately woven into the woman's and her husband's very selves. It was both of their fault, but it was no one's fault. Her egg, his sperm. One without the other nullifies the possibility of molar pregnancy. It took them both to make this happen. However, in absolutely no way could they have made it happen. Neither had any control over the final outcome. She could no more prevent her eggs from being void of DNA as he could prevent his sperm from fertilizing it.

It was the perfect crisis, if there were ever such a thing. At least, the woman thought so. While she was good at the blame game and could defend her rightness till she was blue in the face, in this case, there was no one to blame but probability. It was a blessing in disguise. Had things been a little different, she surely would have fallen more deeply into her bad habits. Yet, Temptation, knowing it had lost this angle but fully understanding the woman's shortcomings, came to her in other forms.

He's relieved you're not having a baby. He didn't want it now, anyway.

If he would have been ready sooner, this never would have happened.

The lies crept into her mind during weak moments when tears and heartache filled her soul. Succumbing to the need to satisfy an explanation for this misfortune in her life, she allowed herself to believe it, instigating a gradual, subtle distancing from the man she loved.

Her mood swings should have been enough to drive him mad, yet he continually proved himself selfless. He loved her as Christ loved the Church, giving himself up for her. He washed the dishes and ran loads of laundry. He listened to her laments and comforted her in his arms. He kept a roof over their heads and made progress on their basement project. He was steady, constant, patient, and kind. He was a man of honor and, in her mind, she did not deserve such a man. He, at least, deserved a better woman.

Nevertheless, they were bound to each other. The woman reflected on her past promises:

I take you to be my lawfully wedded husband, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of God, our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live.

She had become lazy, yet he never faltered in keeping up his same end of the bargain. For a time she was able to maintain her emotionally detached position, but it became more difficult the longer she tried. Each kind word or loving gesture chipped away at her bitter heart. But his eyes were her biggest weakness. From the beginning, they had the power to evoke within her the deep longing to have his child. His dark, handsome eyes captured her heart. Out of them his love for her smiled directly into her soul. She could not escape his unconditional love.

Upon that realization, the woman confessed her wrongs to her husband and sought forgiveness, which he freely gave. From that point on, she made a conscious effort to practice her vows daily, for the sake of her husband and her marriage. Nothing tries a marriage like a crisis, but nothing strengthens a marriage like a devoted couple working together through a crisis.

Part 33: Mile Stones

"It's four o'clock. You should call her," said the husband, eager to know the results from the woman's blood draw that day.

"I know the doctor said four, but I'll just wait a little bit longer to see if she'll call," replied the woman as she screwed in the white outlet plate. The couple had been working hard all day on their basement finishing project. The woman found it to be a good way to keep her mind busy with other things, rather than worrying about the things she couldn't control.

The next half hour flew by. The woman was hoping the doctor would have called her by now because then she would know for sure she wasn't interrupting anything. However, the doctor had assured the woman to call if she hadn't heard anything by four. Getting over her guilt complex, she grabbed her cell phone and jogged upstairs to make the call.

While waiting for someone to answer on the other end, the woman couldn't help but wonder what her results would be. She desperately wished to have the chemo treatments behind her, to move on to the next phase. It was funny how such a little number could have such a big impact on her life, and no matter how much the woman wished for it to be over, she had absolutely no control over any of the outcome.

"Alo?" answered the doctor.

The woman greeted back, trying to keep conversation on the topic and as short as possible. Both the woman and the doctor were on vacation, and she didn't want to impose any more than she had to.

"Well, I got your results back from the lab," the doctor began. "In discussing your results with the lab consultant, it turns out that the negative values for the HCG test were re-developed. Whereas before, a value less than 0.8 was considered negative, now any value less than 2.4 is considered negative. This week your value is at 1.3."

The woman pondered the meaning of this news. Two weeks prior, her value was at 2.0, which meant she had unknowingly already experienced her first negative result! Not only that, but since she had undergone a chemo treatment at that time and her value was still negative this week, she would no longer have to do any more chemo!

The woman didn't quite know how to feel. She had been waiting months for the day to finally be able to say with certainty that her HCG values had reached negative. Had the reference values for the test stayed at less than 0.8, her value that week would have still been considered positive and she'd be on another round of methotrexate injections. It was a welcomed surprise, but it was in some ways almost anti-climactic considering her real first negative had been two weeks prior. Even so, it was still a big mile stone in her recovery from gestational trophoblastic disease and a huge answer to prayer.

Part 32: Fault and Fuss

The woman closed her car door and walked towards the parking garage elevator. After waiting a minute or so, the down arrow above the entrance flashed, the doors opened, and she stepped inside for a solo ride. She was still waking up. Six forty-five was too early to be running around on any day, let alone on her day off, but it was for a good reason. She was scheduled for a blood draw, and hopefully today was the day her HCG result would be negative.

The elevator bell dinged as it reached the subway level. The scene that emerged from behind the parting doors left her a bit perplexed. A security gate was blocking the entrance to the main hall. Maybe they just haven't opened yet, she thought to herself. Maybe they open later since it's a day before a holiday. Lucky for her, she knew her way around and had a badge to get in.

The absence of people seemed odd to her, but she dismissed the irregularity and continued over to the main collection center. When she arrived, there was no one around. A sign displayed at the front desk which read: "Push button for assistance. Someone will be with you shortly." Something about pushing a strange button in the absence of anyone else made her a bit apprehensive, almost like she was being watched on candid camera, but she pushed it anyway and waited...and waited...and waited.

She was pretty certain the phlebotomists weren't too busy behind the closed doors considering there wasn't a single soul in the waiting room. Working up some courage, she decided to take a peek to see for herself what exactly was going on back there. To her unsurprised dismay, no one was on the other side. Why would they schedule me for a 6:45 a.m. draw if there wouldn't be anyone around? the woman thought to herself, still not realizing that she had actually misread her appointment schedule.

Determined to get her blood drawn, she walked over to another outpatient center across the street, thinking perhaps it would be open since it was connected to the hospital. Unfortunately, the attempt was just as successful as her first, and now she was becoming a little more agitated. To her luck, someone from the staff was able to direct her to where she could go, though she would need to drive there.

The woman walked back to her car, got inside, buckled-up, and drove a mile down the road to an affiliate hospital. Inside was a small outpatient office that also serviced the emergency room patients, so it was most definitely open that day. Relieved to finally accomplish her three-minute appointment with a needle (after her forty-five minute adventure), she left and headed home, stopping for a coffee on the way. She only hoped it had all been worth the fuss.

Part 31: Good Medicine

Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes while her abdominal muscles tightened, forcing an involuntary voiced breath with each glottal release. When all usable air had escaped, she'd gasp deeply and run through the whole cycle all over again. She hadn't laughed this hard in months. An evening of family game night was just the diversion she needed, though it took her a little convincing at first to participate. While looking at the faces joining her around the table she thought to herself how thankful she was to be a part of a family that knew how to laugh.

Christmas vacation was turning out to be somewhat emotional for the woman, something which she hadn't prepared herself for. She found herself reliving some of the deeper emotions that had plagued her early on and she couldn't fully understand why. Disappointment, denial, and despair had all made their rounds wearing heavy on her heart. The woman carried with her a sadness that occasionally unleashed mini crying sessions throughout the day. She had just started her period that week, so her hormones were most certainly out of whack, but she knew that couldn't have been the sole cause.

Laughter, however, managed to break her free from the depressing funk. The others' laughter only fueled her own. The longer it continued, the lighter her soul became, as if to disperse little stress relief bubbles throughout her entire body, indeed so proving the time tested saying: a joyful heart is good medicine.