Page 34 of Muskoka Miracle (Muskoka Shores #7)

She sagged into her seat. Plopped her head in her hands.

Trusting God in the unknown seemed so much harder this time around.

Yes, she’d seen His faithfulness in the past. Yes, she’d witnessed His miracles.

She placed a hand on her belly. This life was a miracle.

She knew that. But God had let her down before.

And if the doctor was right, then the latest round of testing would reveal a problem.

Oh, why did Dan have to be away on a road trip?

He’d suggested his mother accompany Sarah to the clinic, but she’d rather not have that woman’s negativity compound her own.

Telling Dan’s family about the pregnancy at Thanksgiving had not met with the joy they’d hoped, apart from with Sam.

God bless Sam. And God needed to bless Helen and Andrew, because Sarah was finding it hard to.

Their congratulations had been muted at best, almost like they were thinking, ‘what’s the point?

’ as if they expected news of another miscarriage in a few weeks.

No, she needed Dan’s faith, because hers felt so weak. “And who else have I got right now, Lord?”

Other names, faces, floated to mind, then were instantly dismissed. Ange? Lived too far away. She could ask Jackie or Toni she supposed. But the fact those women had children while she had none meant they wouldn’t understand. So no. Not an option. Not a viable option.

She cringed. Ugh. Now Dr. McKinnon’s clinical speak was infecting her brain!

She closed her eyes, willing the tears to stay away.

She’d looked up the test Dr. McKinnon had recommended, and realized one of the risk factors for that kind of intrusive test was miscarriage.

How could he recommend a test like that?

Was this test even necessary? Did it even matter if the baby had major health issues?

They’d still want the child, regardless.

If the baby survived long enough to be born.

If. Always if.

The sound of the front door opening made her switch off the light, and pretend to be asleep.

“Sar?”

No. The heart was a messy place, and she couldn’t play nice with him.

She was too tired from the past three weeks of playing nice with everyone else that she had nothing left for her husband.

Her husband, the traitor, who had insisted on her cancelling her tour, then gone off on his own road trip not five days later.

Her husband, the impossibly patient, who like the doctor, didn’t seem to understand that she was good for more than just being a baby incubator.

She wanted to argue with Dr. McKinnon, but he was always warning her about high blood pressure, so she liked to save that for when she and Dan were in the car.

She huddled in the bed, tugging the blankets up to her ears so she didn’t have to see or hear him.

Why couldn’t Dan understand her perspective?

She’d never once canceled on a tour. Not once.

So when she’d tearfully announced it on her podcast, her fans had been devastated.

Dev-a-sta-ted . She felt like such a fraud.

People had bought tickets to see her, and now they wouldn’t.

Tisha and the rest of the crew had been upset, forcing her to explain more of the reason why.

They’d understood, then offered congratulations, and agreed to keep her reason for not touring limited to ‘health issues.’

Not that Dan appreciated the sacrifice she was making.

Sometimes she wanted to scream at him, their arguments such that she hoped none of the neighbors could hear.

But how could they not, stuck in this stupid too-small apartment?

But any time she raised her voice he simply repeated the line: “Stop yelling, Sarah. It’s not good for the baby. ”

Sometimes she wanted to hurl more than just words at him, but he turned and walked away. Why couldn’t the man fight for once? She was tired of being the only one who did.

No tour. No career. No travel. No family.

Dan had said he’d pay for her family to come visit for Christmas, but it felt too much like a handout, something designed to shut her up, that she’d snapped and said she’d rather wait until April when the baby would be born.

If the baby was born. She placed a hand on her stomach. There were still no guarantees.

Dr. McKinnon had been cautious in Sarah’s last visit, noting the baby’s heartbeat was weaker than he liked, advising that she attend another scan as soon as possible to investigate the issue.

“We want to rule out things like congenital hearts defects, hydrocephalus, water on the brain, or other birth defects.”

Birth defects?

She placed a hand on her stomach, prayed for the tiny one inside.

Surely God wouldn’t let them get this far to have something like birth defects?

And yet, plenty of people had children born with medical issues.

There were no guarantees. Just like Dr. McKinnon had cautioned that there were no guarantees that she would make full term.

And it was that fear that lurked in the background, refusing to let her fall in love with this child. She couldn’t have her heart ripped away. Not again. Even if this was the furthest she’d been able to carry a child.

These emotions were like a rollercoaster she couldn’t get off. Up one minute, down the next, never anything calm and in the middle. She’d always struggled with moderating her emotions, of letting the Holy Spirit calm her, and lately, it felt like these extremes were growing into normality.

Which wasn’t fair to Dan. Which made it a hard habit to change. Why did she have to be the one who changed, anyway? Oh, that’s right. Because she was the one who always had to give up everything – her life, her career, her family, her country—to support his dreams.

The bedroom door opened. “Sar?” he whispered. “Are you awake?”

An opportunity lay in the air. She let it float to the floor. Feigned a snore.

He sighed, and closed the door.