Episode Twelve: MacGregor Chronicles

“Oh, hon.” he kissed my forehead and hugged me tighter.

“That's what we've been doing all of this for isn't it? Working all this time, paying off our debt, building our house. We've done everything we set out to do. So why don't we have any children?”

“Well, do you want to go to the doctor to see if he can tell us what our options are?” Will suggested. I nodded. We hadn't done anything to prevent my getting pregnant for almost thirteen years now and I had not become so. For a long time I feared that we would not be able to have children of our own. We had even discussed the adoption option, but for the past six years we had put the whole scheme out of our heads until we could afford a child either way.

The following week we went to our regular doctor to be checked out and to get a plan down for conception. We decided that if we could not conceive on our own within six months, then we would go to fertility medications. On the fourth month on our own, I found myself with child. We were thrilled and scared. We knew the likelihood of miscarriages for women over thirty and took this very seriously.

Unfortunately, in spite of our carefulness, I lost the baby after ten weeks. I was very sad for a long time, but I did not allow depression to set in. During my sadness something very unexpected occurred.

I received an email, from my father. He was in the states again and wanted to see me. He and his wife, my step-mother, Janessa had moved back to the Philippines to be closer to her family five years earlier. Now they were back and my father seemed desperate to see me.

I could not help but agree to see him, the wording of his email was something I could not ignore. I replied with my consent to meet him at a small dinner in town the next week. I would never invited him to my home and refused to go to his own living area. A couple of days after the agreement to meet there was a buzz from our gate late at night. We weren't expecting anyone. It was pouring rain out and we had decided to stay in for the night to enjoy the storm. When I answered a weak voice with a still fairly strong Asian accent responded. It was my Janessa, someone from town had dropped her off and she was standing there in the rain. Willard immediately want to get her in his car.

How had she gotten here? Why was she alone? It had to be important. When the Willard returned with Janessa it was plain to see the urgency. In her arms was a tiny baby girl, she looked to be maybe a few weeks old. Both my stepmother and my new baby sister were soaked. The baby, Charlotte, was crying and chilled. We did everything we could to dry and warm them both. I took Charlotte while her mother took a warm shower. The soaked clothes of each went into the washer, then the dryer. I borrowed Janessa some warm pajamas and socks to wear, though they were a bit big on her because of the height difference. The tiny baby girl I stripped down and wrapped a soft cotton blanket around her. Thankfully my stepmother had diapers in a diaper bag that was with her. By the time Janessa was warm and dry, her daughter was as well. Charlotte was sleeping comfortably in a large woven basket lined with towels.

When the first entered the house my fathers wife tried to explain everything right away, but she would forget herself and begin to speak her native language and nothing was comprehensible to Willard or me. I asked that the two of them be dry, warm, and calm before anything further was said. Now that this was accomplished we all sat down in the fire side room with some tea and talked.

“Where is my father?” I asked starting out.

“He is dead. He died of tuberculosis three nights ago. He knew that it would take him this time, that is why we wanted to see you.”

I was in shock already. The man whom I had had so much trouble forgiving for his psychological abuse throughout childhood was gone and I didn't know what to think or how to feel.

“We wanted to ask you to take Charlotte. I am dying also. I had viral-cardio-miopathy. The doctors gave me six months, but I already almost died giving birth to my little girl.”

“Why us? Why did dad want me to have her?”

“He loves you. He knows that you will teach her about God and that you will love her. He always said that you would be a good mother. Her middle name is Jane, after you.”

“I'm not saying that I don't want her, but where is your family? Don't they want her?” I inquired still not grasping the whole situation.

“ My family is gone, all of them dead. Your father and I, we left Manila just days before my village was burned to the ground by a local militia. We could not fly because of the baby, we had to take a boat to get here.”

“You sailed here, from the Phillipines, dad had TB, you where pregnant and have heart a fatal heart condition.”

“Yes.”

“You do understand that no insurance in the world will cover your hospital bills because what you have is genetic and chronic right.”

“We came here to go to the Mayo clinic, to ask for their help. One of your fathers friends offered to pay the bills in full. I understand that I may not live long enough to have a transplant, but I do want to know that your sister is safe and well.” Janessa explained.

I looked at my baby sister, then at my husband, then at my stepmother. We had no choice, with my father gone and his wife dying, this child had no one to care for her. Even for as angry as I had been with my father, it was not the fault of this sleeping child before me. She was so small and looked a bit ill herself.

“We will take care of her.” Willard answered suddenly. He was not the kind to make snap decisions like this, but he saw the need and the urgency. A smile came across Janessa's pale face. She was only a few years older than myself and looked even younger. I had always wanted to be close to her, but I didn't want anything to do with my father. Now I would be rearing their child, as my own. I hugged her as tears began to stream down both our faces.