21

“I have a surprise,” Heidi said, putting down her trash bag and disappearing into our closet. We were knee-deep in the clutter the police had made of our home, but were slowly putting everything back into its place. There were huge empty spaces on our bookshelves and in our drawers—voids left by the police department. Thankfully, they left the refrigerator, television, and washing machine we had finally been able to afford just before we landed in prison. When Heidi emerged from the closet, she had a tiny book in her hand.

“My address book?” I jumped over a gigantic box of trash and embraced her. “How did you do it?”

“Before they took me to jail, I told them I needed to grab my sweater from the closet. Since they’d already ransacked that area, I knew they wouldn’t return to it. I had the book in my hand like this,” she adjusted it down into her palm with her thumb securing it, “and when I reached for my sweater, I threw it into the corner of the closet.”

I flipped through all of the names of our fellow believers and friends, and was so proud of my clever wife. For weeks, we regaled each other with tales from prison. I was very relieved to hear Heidi hadn’t been tortured, though she was kept with hardened criminals and forced to clean latrines. They called her “Graduate Student,” because she was apparently the most educated prisoner they’d ever met. She shared the gospel in the cell, very discreetly, and even got to be good friends with someone in prison for financial crimes. I told her about Little Tiger and Big Brother . . . and warned her that we might be getting some visits from their families. I told her about those two heart candies that melted in my hand on our anniversary. But even as we got used to life outside of prison, the government was still looming over our lives.

One morning, the Communist School personnel official called me. “The Beijing Communist Party committee is asking you to leave the school, because you’re not qualified to teach here anymore.”

“I was qualified to teach two months ago,” I protested. “In fact, I’m overqualified. Agent Li said I was supposed to teach. We had an agreement.”

“No,” he said. “We’ve talked to the relevant parties and the decision was made.”

Of course, they weren’t content to merely take away my livelihood. When we were arrested, Heidi was just one week from her final exams at the People’s University. After three years of graduate school, she had already made plans for her life after graduation. However, right after I learned I would lose my job, Heidi received some bad news of her own. First, her graduate school decided not to give her a diploma or degree and kicked her completely out of school. To add insult to injury, the work unit with whom she’d contracted refused to employ her, citing political reasons.

It felt like a noose was tightening around our necks. Little by little, our freedom was being squeezed from us. Our friends began getting harassed. Dragonfly, part of our Christian fellowship, came home one day to find his apartment had been sealed, making him homeless. He took off, fearing arrest. Two church friends were summoned to testify against us, and we were even threatened. We were told we had to report every phone call, letter, or guest. And just in case we didn’t accurately report this information, they stationed guards at the entrance of our apartment building. Our rather large building was shaped like an “E” and had three exits. Much to the chagrin of the other residents, the police shut down all of the doors except the main entrance in the front. The guards on the first floor checked anyone entering the building who looked suspicious. Whenever Heidi and I left the premises, security sent an alert to our special agents, who would follow us around the city. They wanted to shut down our ministry and turn our neighbors against us.

They were successful.

One afternoon, Heidi emerged through the door holding a bag of groceries and looking completely flustered.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“You’d think if the agents were following me anyway, they’d offer to help carry my groceries,” she sighed. “I’m so tired.”

“It’s probably just the post-prison exhaustion,” I assured her. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“Yes, and my back hurts, and I just feel so uncomfortable.”

Our eyes met, and neither of us said a word. I took the bag of groceries and set it on the table. We sat down on the couch and held hands. I was the first to speak what both of us were thinking. “So, you’re fatigued and have a general feeling of discomfort?”

“Yes,” she said, very slowly.

“Do you think you could be—”

“After just once?”

We both felt children made a marriage complete. During our busy ministry time, however, we didn’t have time to think about anything more than smuggling Bibles and conducting our illegal religious training. Nevertheless, we wanted at least one child; China’s onerous one child policy didn’t give us the luxury of dreaming of a large family. In China, the government heavily regulated pregnancies. To begin a family, couples were required to get a pregnancy permission card—a yellow card—before the woman could legally conceive. If a pregnancy occurred without the yellow card, the woman was likely to be arrested and forced to have an abortion. Tens of millions of babies were aborted per year, sometimes just days before they would’ve been born. And not only did family planning officials show up to do random searches for secret pregnancies, other citizens were expected to report women who looked pregnant.

We’d seen this firsthand. When my older brother’s wife got pregnant with her second child, for example, she left to live in a secret location to have the baby. When the family planning officials realized she’d mysteriously disappeared, they broke into their home, grabbed my brother, and put him in a prison in the village. There, the Communist Party had hired a few strong men to beat him up, trying to get him to disclose where my sister-in-law was hiding. So, while we were filled with joy over Heidi’s pregnancy, we were also filled with trepidation.

“Let’s don’t think about ‘what if,’” Heidi said. My wife believed in knowing all the facts before making decisions. However, I had a feeling our bedroom civil disobedience had been a roaring success. “Let’s find out for sure.”

We went to a local hospital, where Heidi had a pregnancy test. As we waited for the results, I imagined holding a tiny person in my arms. Tiny feet, little hands. An infant seemed so innocent, so precious. After a couple of minutes, the nurse came back out and said, “It’s positive!”

Heidi and I left the hospital immediately. Authorities didn’t care if you were pregnant. Women had abortions all the time. In fact, a friend of Heidi’s had eight abortions during grad school. If a woman tried to keep the baby, however, terrible things could happen. When we got back to our building, we passed the guards at the door and went up to our apartment.“I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl?” Heidi asked, excitedly. “Where will we put a crib?” she said, looking around the little apartment. “Do you think the baby will look like me or you?”

Heidi, as she talked about the baby, seemed suddenly different to me. For the first time in our relationship, I was looking at the mother of my child instead of just my wife. I’d always been attracted to her intelligence, her kindness, and her dedication. But during that moment, I realized the same attributes that made her a great wife would also make her a great mother.

“But wait,” she suddenly said, yanked from her thoughts of diapers and baby bottles by the reality of the family planning laws. “I don’t have a yellow card! They’ll arrest me and kill our child!” she said.

“He’ll be fine,” I said. “Or, if it’s a girl, she’ll be fine. The Lord will provide a pathway.” I kept my voice calm. I regretted the dark shadow of the family planning system that hovered over the excitement of our good news, so I tried to figure out the best way to proceed. Since I wasn’t from Beijing, I talked to David Li, the friend who’d deposited money for me while I was in prison, and secretly told him of my predicament.

“Oh, you’re in big trouble,” he said. “You’ll both be arrested for noncompliance, and they’ll force Heidi to abort.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do? I’d like to see an actual doctor, to make sure the baby’s healthy.”

“You’ll land back in jail if you show up to a doctor without your yellow card,” he said. As I saw our options dwindle, I was filled with despair. I wanted to protect Heidi and our unborn child so much I couldn’t think clearly. Plus, even if we could figure out a way to have the baby safely, I couldn’t support a family.

“There’s got to be a back door solution,” I said.

“I know a doctor who might be able to help,” he said. “She’s a believer at a nearby hospital, so maybe she could do a check-up off the books. But it’s a risk.”

“How so?”

“She’s supposed to call the police if anyone shows up without their yellow card.”

“Do you trust her?”

“I do.”

I had no choice, so I trusted her too.

I placed my hand on the small of Heidi’s back and ushered her into the brightly lit doctor’s office. The walls were a pale but cheery yellow, but nothing could calm my nerves. On the way up to the third floor of the hospital, I’d taken note of all the emergency exits in case we needed to make a quick escape.

Dear God, I prayed, please don’t let it come to that.

“What have we gotten ourselves into?” Heidi whispered as we waited to see the doctor.

When the doctor finally came in, she was holding a clipboard reviewing our medical information.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “However, we’re missing some information.” I shifted in my seat and tightened my grip on Heidi’s hand. “Do you have your yellow card?”

“Well, I need to talk to you about that,” I said, lowering my voice. “We are friends of David Li, and he said you might be able to help us. Heidi got pregnant without a permit, and we were hoping you could check to make sure the baby is healthy.”

She immediately stood up, and put her hand on the doorknob like she was about to leave the room.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” she said. “Do you realize how dangerous this is? I’m obligated to call the police.” I looked at Heidi and it looked like all of the blood had run out of her face.

“I understand that,” I said, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. “But David thought maybe you could do something for us.”

“If I ‘did something for you,’ I’d be arrested, would lose my medical license, and be thrown in prison,” she whispered.

“Do you at least have any advice for us?” I pled. “We won’t be able to keep this a secret forever. They’ll arrest us for sure as her belly grows.”

The doctor’s eyes softened when she looked at Heidi, who hadn’t said a word. I could see she had compassion, but was restricted by her very reasonable desire not to land in prison for two people she’d never seen before. She put the clipboard down and walked toward us. Her voice was so quiet that we had to lean in to hear her. “You are in grave danger. Even if you could hide the pregnancy in public, the family planning officers will stop by your house to check on you. If you’re already on their radar, there’s no way you can escape their reach.”

I listened intently, hoping to hear some sort of hope. I thought maybe she could direct us to another doctor, or a more rural province, or give us some direction at evading arrest and avoiding the forced abortion.

“What should we do?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

“The only advice I have for you,” she whispered, “is to run.”