Free The Road to Mercy by Kathy Harris Page A

fine.”
    “That’s great.” Beth inhaled in deep bursts. “So, where do we go from here?”
    “I want you to track your blood pressure. Do you have a home monitor?”
    “Yes. Dr. Abrams asked me to do the same thing.”
    “Check it three times a day and keep a written record. Bring it to your next appointment.”
    “Okay.”
    “Do you have any other questions?”
    “What about the effects of the morphine on the baby?”
    There was a heartbeat of silence. “It’s not optimum, but,” her voice smiled again, “babies are survivors.”
    “Thank you for helping me, Dr. Myers.”
    “That’s why I’m here, to help babies and their moms.”
    Beth smiled.
    “Your child’s health is most dependent upon your health. We’ll keep a close watch on you during the next seven months,” Dr. Myers assured her. “May I give you one more piece of advice?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Don’t overdo it, but try to get out of the house once a week or so. It will keep your spirits up.”
    “I will,” Beth promised. She hung up the phone and then squealed. “Everything is normal.”
    Alex reached to hug her. “God is good. He will get you through the next seven months, just like he’s brought you to this point.”
    “I’m not sure I’m deserving of so many blessings.”
    “None of us are, girl. But he watches over us from the time we are conceived. He knows our name before we’re born . . .” Alex stopped midsentence. “Wait! I’ll be right back.”
    Moments later Alex returned with a large, white gift bag. It had been decorated with ivory-colored lace and tiny, creamy white bows. “I couldn’t wait to give this to you.”
    “That’s too pretty to open.” Beth took the bag from her caregiver. “Did you make the gift bag?”
    “Yes.” Alex blushed. “Go ahead, open it.”
    Beth tugged on the ivory-colored tissue, revealing a large, white organza pouch inside the bag. “It’s soft,” she said. After loosening the drawstrings on the fabric sack, she pulled out a pashmina baby blanket. “Oh, my . . . it’s beautiful.” She looked up to see Alex’s eyes moist with tears.
    “I wanted you to have something to hold. Something tangible to remind you of the gift growing inside you, of the child God will reveal in his perfect timing.” Alex wiped her eyes andhanded Beth the phone. “Why don’t you call Josh and give him your good news?”

    Sitting on the side of the bed as she prepared to tuck herself in that night, Beth caressed the luxurious cashmere and silk baby blanket. She ran her fingers over the satin-wrapped edges. The materials were exquisite. But even the finest fabrics couldn’t assuage her guilt.
    Josh had been relieved to hear the good news that her pregnancy was normal and tried to reassure her, yet there was also sadness in his voice. He’d sounded like he was exhausted. They were both dealing with almost more than they could handle, and not just physically but emotionally.
    Her conversations with Dr. Myers and Alex this morning had triggered a range of emotions within her. Although she had hope for the future of the child she now carried, her happiness was detoured by the pain of the past.
    “Babies are survivors,” Dr. Myers had said.
    When given the chance
.
    That thought kept replaying over and over in Beth’s mind, and she groaned with the knowledge that her first child’s life had been cut short because of her own selfishness.

    The hotel coffee shop buzzed with activity. Dishes rattled, the phone rang, and people milled about, talked, and laughed. Josh wasn’t in the mood for people, but his stomach was empty. He sat across the table from Danny, who was buttering a piece of half-burnt toast.
    “So you received good news yesterday?” Danny asked.
    “Yes, finally. Beth called last night.”
    “So her situation is a lot better?”
    “Are you kidding?”
    “I wasn’t. But, obviously, I hit a nerve,” Danny frowned. “What’s wrong?”
    “I’m sorry.” Josh dug