“Looking into this” took the form of a visit to Dr. Pederson’s office the day after Christmas. All day long on Christmas Day Kay had dropped little hints, as discreetly as she could, about the joys of parenthood and how grateful they could be that medical science had greatly reduced the risks in it for them. The only thing that had kept Steve on an even keel throughout the day was his phone call to Dr. Pederson at his home that morning and the physician’s willingness to meet with them the very next day.
It was no secret to Steve that Kay had been suppressing and sublimating her strong maternal instincts for the past eleven years. This was clear in her devotion to her students and in the way she talked about them to him. He admired her greatly for letting her students be the outlet for these instincts, but he never lost the sense that way down deep she was always poised to take advantage of any unforeseen opportunity to have a child of their own. Now all of that was history. Kay was pregnant, and in a moment of weakness he had allowed it to happen. To be sure, if she was right that the danger was all but gone, that could alter everything. But he would have to have that on the best authority.
Kay’s irrepressible joy and fearless assurance were infectious. He had never experienced her so assertive. Her mind was racing ahead to all the blessings in store for them by becoming parents, and what she had to say about it was persuasive indeed! All day long he wavered between being caught up with her in her enthusiasm and coping with his fears, fears first of all for her safety, and then also fears of how to go about raising a child well in a decadent society in an increasingly dangerous world. He even caught himself wondering if anyone had the right to bring children into a world like this at all.
In view of all this, the strongest affirmation she could get out of him was, “We’ll see, we’ll see….”
The next morning, Dr. Pederson, who was also a personal friend of theirs, wasted no time in taking them into his confidence.
“Yes,” he answered with reserve when Steve asked him about new developments. “Some real progress has been made in this field in recent years. Some diabetic women are giving birth to several children, some are content with one, and some are advised against child-bearing altogether. It all depends on the history and the severity of each case.”
“And in Kay’s case, what would be your advice?”
“Well, I am not a specialist in this field. That’s why I sent copies of all my records on Kay to a specialist in Minneapolis. His reply came in the morning mail, and I have taken the time to examine it carefully. He says that her history is in her favor. She has controlled her condition very well over the years. But her age and her severity index are not. Piecing it all together, he says that many women in Kay’s category have one baby, but seldom more than one. And, he adds,”—the doctor’s voice dropped—”it is not unheard of to lose a patient and/or her baby in Kay’s category.”
“Not unheard of!” cried Steve. “I hope he appended more specific statistics than that!”
“Six percent,” replied the physician slowly. “Six percent in her category don’t make it, according to the figures I have right here. Which is, of course, a great improvement over what it once was.”
“Well, that settles that!” exclaimed Steve. “We can’t play with that kind of a risk.”
“But Steve!” cried out Kay. “Only six percent! I would have been happy with a 10 or 20 percent mortality rate. Only six percent! Darling, I’ll be all right.”
The physician lowered his head as though he were examining the report even more closely.
“And the primary reason for losing the patient is blood loss?” demanded Dr. Pearson, unheeding.
“Yes. Blood loss and failure to reestablish quickly and correctly the dosage of insulin the mother requires, suddenly deprived of the insulin she has been getting from the baby’s pancreas. Blood loss becomes a major issue if there are complications in the delivery that create excessive bleeding.”
“And you think I could actually consent to let you take that kind of a risk?” Steve demanded, turning to Kay. “These data speak for themselves. No husband in his right mind would choose to put the life of his beloved on the block like that!”
Kay was blinking fast. She had braced herself for a rough struggle, but it all seemed so unreal to her at this moment. Still, she was clear-headed enough to realize that this was neither the time nor the place to settle the matter. She hesitated and, ignoring Steve, she asked the doctor, “And how long is it before you have to have an answer from us?”
“Well, your serious problems will not begin for several weeks yet. After that, there will have to be constant vigilance, on your part and on mine. Every change in your condition will require an appropriate response. We will take nothing for granted. You will need to notify me of even the slightest change. And you should also know that if you decide not to carry the baby to term, we will need to perform a therapeutic abortion within the next month to six weeks, to minimize the risk to you.”
“Then we shall take it home for at least a week before we give you our decision,” Kay stated flatly.
Steve was about to object when, glancing at his wife, he bowed his head and nodded his agreement.
“Can we make an appointment for next week at this time?” he inquired.
“Certainly.”
As they were getting up to leave, Dr. Pederson rose from his desk, walked over to them, and laid one hand on a shoulder of each of them.
“As a physician I can only present the facts in a case like this and leave the decision to you. And one of the facts in this case is that we have right here in St. Mark two diabetic women who have given birth to babies recently, one of whom experienced some complications in the delivery and recovery. Her name is Lena Nyberg. She was thirty-five years old at childbirth and has a seven-month-old tot. She lives with her husband and son in the last house on the left on Oak Street as you leave town.
“And as a friend I can only say, may God be with you!”
Kay looked up at the tall physician and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Yes, thank you,” echoed Steve vacantly.
And they left for home.