Free I Said Yes: My Story of Heartbreak, Redemption, and True Love by Emily Maynard Johnson

wrestling with the fear of it being a false positive. Maybe it was a bad test. Maybe I didn’t follow the directions correctly. Maybe I left it out too soon or read the sign wrong. Feeling overwhelmed, I knew it was time to get Mom. When I told her the news after I quietly stepped out of the bathroom, she stood silent with her mouth open.
    “Oh my,” Mom finally said, bewildered. And then a smile curled on her face as she reached out and drew me into her arms.
    Hesitant to accept what was good news, I quickly interrupted our moment of happy. “But, uh, I don’t know. Maybe the test is wrong or something.” As always, I needed proof. I needed to be sure, absolutely-without-a-shadow-of-a-doubt sure.
    “Why don’t we see a doctor, Emily?” Mom suggested. “So you can know for sure.”
    I called my doctor, who also happened to be the Hendricks’ family doctor, to see if he could squeeze me in sometime that day. Sensing alarm in my voice, he told me to come right away. “Go through the back door,” he suggested, respecting my privacy and not wanting to cause an unnecessary scene.
    Less than an hour later, after receiving a warm greeting from the doctor and waiting in a nondescript exam room for a nurse to draw some blood, I sat in the doctor’s personal office, waiting. Waiting for results. Waiting for my future.
    And then, as the doctor took a seat in front of me, came the three best words I’d heard that week: “Yup, you’re pregnant!”
    Elation. That’s all I can say. Absolute elation. Though I’d been steeped in tears all week, feeling tears of joy drench my cheeks was almost like a release. Hope had finally shed a glimpse of light. Mom tightly clutched my hand as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered.
    It was evening by the time I got to the Hendricks’. I still had a sour taste in my mouth from being denied a pinch of Ricky’s remains. But I had to let it go. Besides, I had news to share. Good news.
    I stood in their majestic foyer that night, staring into the eyes of the man and woman who had created and were now grieving their beautiful son, my beloved. My heart ached for them as I wondered how they would receive what I was about to say.
    “Everyone keeps telling me that I wasn’t on that plane for a reason I’ll probably never know,” I began in a trembling voice.
    Mrs. Hendrick nodded and immediately dived in. “That’s right, Emily, you won’t ever know.”
    “But, the truth is, I think I do.” I paused, biting back tears, not knowing quite what to say next. “If I was on that plane, twelve people would have died.” They looked confused so I quickly stammered, “I’m . . . I’m pregnant.”
    Mr. Hendrick started sobbing. His wife did too. I felt relieved, the news welcomed. We enjoyed a respite from the darkness that night, celebrating with smiles and hugs. They knew how worried I was, being a mom for the first time and so young. They were generous in helping me out financially from that point, which I’m so very grateful for.
    I didn’t stay long that night. I was exhausted and still reeling from the intense bout of morning sickness. I just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and sleep. Without tossing and turning. Without waking up in a cold sweat wondering where Ricky was. I wanted to sleep resting in the joy of a life that was beginning to form in my belly, a life created by Ricky and me.
    Sometime that weekend, Mom and I headed back to Florida. I only planned to stay for a week. At this point, my parents had sold their house on Sunset Key and taken up residence in downtown Old Town Key West. They lived in a timeless Victorian with sea-green shutters alongside other charming gingerbread-looking homes and only a block away from Duvall Street, the heartbeat of the city with its eclectic string of bars, restaurants, and shops.
    I spent most of the week in bed except for frequent trips to the bathroom. I had severe bouts of morning sickness that