Another excerpt from my new book, which officially released this week - get your copy now!
“Reverend, I need to talk to both you and your wife about something very important. Will you follow me into surgical?”
I meekly followed the surgeon to the room where my wife was being prepared for her mastectomy, but with every step came rising dread that I could barely stifle. The past six months of our lives had taught me to always expect the worst: first our miscarriage, then a break-in at our house. Then Carol’s cancer diagnosis, the temporary loss of our health insurance, and the discovery that her cancer had started to spread. What was it this time? Had the cancer spread to her lungs, to her brain? What terrible news did God have in store for us?
We entered the prep room, where my wife lay on a surgical gurney. I reached out my hand to lend her any strength I could, but the truth was that I had none to give. I was terrified of what the surgeon would say next, and could barely remain standing myself.
Our doctor paused for a moment and began cautiously. “Sooo . . . we took a routine blood test for your wife, something we always do. But when I got the results back, I saw that her hormone levels were a little strange, so we had to run some additional tests.” She paused again, whether to collect herself or for effect, I’ll never know.
She plunged on. “I just got those results back right now. Mrs. Chin: you are pregnant.”
Carol and I looked at each other but didn’t say a thing. I think I tried to smile weakly at her, but I’m sure it was more of a frozen look of astonishment than anything else. A series of rather asinine questions raced through my mind: “Pregnant? ...1