Introduction

"Our baby weighed 450 grams. I learned that day that there are 454 grams in a pound." Life had been good to Karen and Bob Krech. They had traveled the world as overseas teachers. They were blessed with a strong marriage, a nice house, great jobs, and a happy, healthy, two-year-old son. Was God a part of their lives? Some. But He was about to reenter in a very big way through a very small baby.

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Excerpt

Chapter One - Babies Like This

Was it too soon to call a funeral home? A priest? Our families? Ultimately, we just waited quietly. My wife, Karen, in the bed. Me, stiff and straight, in the only chair. The institutional face of the hospital clock showed it was 5:00 p.m. Karen’s maternity nurse, Kim, had been gone an hour.

I stared out the window at the setting sun. A wintry twilight of washed-out blues and grays spread across the sky. I wanted it to be over and yet to never come.

Suddenly I heard Karen gasp and I knew it had started. Turning, I saw her staring straight at me, eyes wide. “It’s happening!” she exclaimed. Blood seeped bright red onto the sheet below her waist. Karen pulled up her knees and gripped them tightly. I moved quickly to the bed and pushed the call button hard waiting expectantly for Kim’s voice.

“The baby is low,” Karen warned. Beads of sweat now dotted her forehead. “I can feel it. It’s ready to come out,” she panted.

I pushed the button again. And again. The bloodstain was spreading farther down the sheet. My heart beat wildly. I worked to steady my voice. “I’m going to get somebody,” I said.

Karen groaned as she rocked back in the bed.

I dashed into the hall and nearly rammed right into Kim running from the other direction. Puffing for breath, her face flaming red against her white uniform, she flew past me into the room. “Karen’s having contractions!” I called after her. “She says the baby’s coming.”

Kim didn’t answer. She was pressing buttons and flipping switches on the console behind Karen’s head. “Karen, are you doing all right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Karen managed between pants. “I’m okay.”

“You’re going to do fine, hon.” She was speaking quickly, pulling cords and pushing more buttons. “Just hang in there with me.” Kim took Karen’s hand. I moved around to the other side of the bed and held her other hand.

Suddenly a small army of nurses rushed in through the doorway, rolling carts of equipment in front of them. Ultra-white bright lights were snapped on overhead. Curtains were yanked around us, apparatus of all sorts was plugged in, everyone was moving in different directions. In the midst of all the movement, Kim’s voice was calm. “Do you feel like you’re ready to push?”

Karen breathed, “Uh-huh.”

?“Go ahead and push,” Kim urged.

Karen strained and arched her back. She gave a high gasp.

Instantly, Kim called out, “It’s a girl!”

From across the room a nurse called back, “5:22.”

Cradled in Kim’s large, soft hands was something impossibly small. The only thing I had ever seen like this before was from biology class: a fetal pig, tiny and folded up in a jar of formaldehyde. I heard a little cry. The smallest of sounds. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination. But Kim immediately called out, “Baby cried!”

My heart leaped. Karen looked to me with a stunned smile. I knew we were thinking the exact same thing—the baby was alive! Kim passed the minuscule form over to the other nurses. They surrounded the baby and it disappeared from our sight. As I tried to catch another glimpse, I noticed a woman in a pale yellow surgical gown off to the side, busily writing on a clipboard. She had short, light brown, almost crew-cut hair, and large glasses. The way she kept writing and studying the equipment, I guessed she was a technician.

The baby remained hidden in a corner among the machines and nurses. The woman in the pale, yellow gown placed the clipboard on a table and walked over to the bed. Her skin was very smooth. She was young, with a look of intelligence and confidence. She leaned toward Karen and spoke in a low voice. “I’m Dr. Hecht, the neonatologist.” There was a small turning-up of the corners of her mouth, not quite a smile. She bent down closer to Karen. “How are you doing?” she asked.

Karen replied breathlessly, “I’m fine. How is the baby?”

Dr. Hecht straightened and spoke slowly in distinct, measured sentences. “Your baby is very sick. She’s extremely small and unable to breathe on her own. We’re keeping her breathing and heart going by machine.”

I thought, sick? Like with a disease? What a strange thing to say. The part about the machines keeping her alive I understood all too well.

Dr. Hecht paused and when she spoke again her tone had changed. Almost instructively, as if talking to a child, she said gently to Karen, “We are going to give her back to you to hold so that you can keep her warm as she passes on. That’s really the best we can do.”

Karen listened to what surely must have struck her as a swirling of words, then turned to me, a look of shock and disbelief on her face. I was enraged. Keep her warm until she passes on! Our daughter was alive! This was more than any of us had hoped for. We knew about the excellent neonatal intensive care unit. Why weren’t we rushing her over there?

The hot shock and revulsion I felt at Dr. Hecht’s words passed. A feeling of cold calm and control snapped into place. I looked directly across the bed at her and asked, “Aren’t you going to take her down to the unit?”

For the first time, she looked my way. She answered in the same even tone, “No. She is very weak and very small. She weighs less than a pound. We do not usually admit babies this small into the unit.” She paused and then continued in a lower voice. “Babies like this don’t make it.” view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

1. At one point, Bob reflected on how life is short--a "mist," a "vapor," and actually took comfort in that thought. What led him to feel this way? Is this comforting to you? Why or why not?

2. Bob and Karen believe that prayer made a difference in Faith's survival. Do you think prayer actually makes a difference in situations like this? How? What makes you think that?

3. How did Bob and Karen's faith change after their daughter's birth? Has anything in your life ever radically changed your faith?

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