Page 92 of Leviticus
“You’re not helping,” she scolded, but she moved her hand down my arm and threaded our fingers together.
“We will wait together and we will look together. Just know, I’m not going anywhere,” I reminded, trying to stifle that nervous energy down as best I could. “How long do we wait?”
“Two more minutes,” she whispered, looking at the clock on the wall.
We listened in deafening silence to the only sound in the room: the slow ticking of the clock, counting down the seconds until our fate was decided.
“One more minute,” I whispered. Her eyes were fixated on the clock, but mine were focused only on her. While a million thoughts were racing through my head, only one thing remained constant and it elated me and terrified me in the same moment. I wasn’t afraid of having a child with this woman. I was afraid of having a child with her right now.
“Time’s up,” she spoke, the tremble in her voice making me want to gather her in my arms and show her that all would be okay in the end. She flipped the stick over and lifted it so we could both read the little digital words on the test.
Not pregnant.
The sigh of relief we both released was cleansing and heavy. We both remained silent. She tossed the stick into the trash and walked into the bedroom, not sparing me a single glance. Not that I could blame her.
“You must have a million thoughts in your mind right now,” I commented, joining her there on the edge of our bed.
“Why do you say that?” She wrung her hands together in her lap and I took them both in mine, ceasing their fidgeting.
“Because I have a million thoughts racing through my mind,” I admitted. There was so much I wanted to say to her right now, I didn’t know where to begin.
“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” she replied, squeezing my hand.
“How are you feeling? About the test result?” I wanted her honesty. I was prepared for whatever she had to say, even if it was difficult.
“I don’t want to say,” she barely whispered, and I couldn’t help it any longer. I pulled her in and wrapped my arms around her.
“I want us to continue being honest with each other. You can say anything right now. Whatever your truth is, I want to know it.”
“It sounds awful, but… I feel relieved.” Her words lifted another weight off of my chest.
“Why is that?” I didn’t want to just agree with her, even though I felt exactly the same.
“I feel like our marriage just began. And I know that having babies is kind of the point of marriage, to multiply as God has commanded. But I feel selfish.” She kept her head down, not meeting my eyes.
“Ruth, look at me, please. You aren’t selfish. I feel the same as you. I feel like we have just found you, found myself in several ways,” I agreed, tilting her chin until her eyes met mine.
“Exactly,” she sighed heavily, the relief palpable in her tone. “There is a thing that Adah told me, shortly after she became a mother. She told me that when they adopted Eunice she started paying attention to hats.”
“To hats?” I questioned, thoroughly confused.
“Yes, to hats. She said that she went from wearing a few hats with titles on them like sister, daughter, student, helper. Then she got married and added more hats. Wife, cook, maid, and so on. Then she became a mother and that list just kept growing. She said it with a smile on her face like it was the happiest thing in the world, but if I’m being honest, it terrified me. It still does. I am just now learning how to wear these new hats, Levi. I’m not sure I want to add more to the pile just yet.”
Her explanation floored me. It was everything I felt put to words I had not possessed.
“I couldn’t agree more with you, Ruth. I’m not saying I don’t want a family some day. But I’m just getting to know you. We are just learning each other. And at the end of the day, I don’t want my children to grow up like I did.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think twice.
“What does that mean?” she implored, and as much as I wanted to answer her, to tell her everything, I wasn’t quite there. Not just yet.
“I will tell you everything soon, just as I promised. But for this conversation, it means that I want my children to grow up in a home where they see real love in front of them every single day.”
“And you think we could have that?” she asked, looking up at me from beneath her lashes, her bashful nature taking hold.
“I would like to find out,” I admitted honestly. Or at least as honestly as I could. In reality, Ollie was right. I knew how I felt. I just didn’t know how to trust it. Not yet.
“But for now,” she sighed, “No baby.”
“No baby. Are you okay with that? Are you sure?” I reiterated, not wanting to force her into a decision she was not ready to make.
