Valerie's Child, Part 2

Part 2 (Be sure to read Part 1)

 

“Dr. Bill, (should I call you that?”) And I nodded affirmatively. “I contacted Ms. Blair, she is a neighbor of mine, and I inquired whether she knew a pastoral counselor I could speak to about my ‘double trouble.’ I squelched an involuntary smile when she used this phrase. It brought to mind a scene from the second Karate Kid movie in which Daniel tells an oriental ruffian, “Hey man, I’m not looking for trouble,” to which the bully replies, “Maybe twouble looking for you!”

Knowing what I already knew about Valerie’s circumstances, I could only mentally agree with her persuasion that this was “double trouble.”

She continued. “I’m currently enrolled at Sandover University, though I haven’t been attending classes in the past couple weeks. Well, you know how conservative that school is, and God knows I grew up with Christian morals, and was glad to have the opportunity to move a thousand miles from home, and attend the university I had always hoped to attend. But everything has fallen apart for me now, and I think it will never be the same again.”

Based on her preliminary remarks, and what the nurse had told me, I could tell this was going to be a good story, (if a tragedy such as this one could include that adjective).

“I met this guy at Sandover during my first year, and he seemed like the kind of guy I could spend the rest of my life with. We began to spend a lot of time together, and my grades began to suffer. Robert seemed to be a gentleman and he told me he’d never had a sexual relationship. As a matter of fact, I never had either… up until that point anyway. The amount of time we spent together caused us to be increasingly frustrated, and I guess it was just a matter of time. He came up with the idea and I’m sorry to say, I went along with it. Robert made up an excuse that his Uncle had died and he had to drive back home on Friday night. I came up with an equally plausible plan, and told my Resident Advisor that my Aunt had invited me to spend the weekend with her. Robert and I signed out Friday afternoon, and we drove separately to a motel a hundred miles off campus. We continued to make up excuses, and sign out as often as we felt we could get away with it; which averaged once every three or four weeks. Then the day came when I missed my Monthly, and of course I was mortified. I picked up one of those home pregnancy tests, and I tested positive. When I told Robert, well, he became very defensive, and told me he had to go, that he had an important test the next day. The next time I saw him, he put me off, and said he had to meet a professor about his grades. Every time I tried to talk with him he changed the subject, or said he was in a hurry. A couple weeks later Robert rang my cell phone and suggested I get an abortion. Even now I haven’t told my parents, but I was adamant with him that there was no way I was going to have an abortion. He was extremely angry, and almost pleaded with me to find a clinic that would do it. Well, I confided to my roomie that I was pregnant, and that my boyfriend wanted me to terminate the pregnancy. Of course, being the fine Christian girl she is, she was shocked. Julie is a gem. Even considering her uncompromising values, she was objective enough to talk to me about it. She suggested I do something that hadn’t occurred to me; that I have all the standard STD testing. This seemed logical to me, and I scheduled an appointment with the county health department. The waiting period was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I received a follow up call from the R.N. and received the worst news in my life. I had contracted HIV. The test results were definite. Of course I realized that the only possible carrier was Robert; since he was the only guy I’d ever been with. Needless to say, he lied about my being his first intimate relationship. Not long after I discovered I was pregnant and HIV Positive, Robert dropped out of school and went back to South Carolina. Of course I came down big time on him about my lab results, and he admitted he had lied ‘cause he figured ‘a nice girl’ like me wouldn’t date him if he told the truth. Robert denied knowing he was a carrier of the disease, and the way his face turned pale, and his hands trembled, I have to think that much of his story was the truth. So, he’s gone now, left me high and dry, and I don’t have a clue what I should do.”

It was referrals like this that I both appreciated and approached with great trepidation. But I had already developed a fine professional rapport with Valerie, and I had told Ms. Blair that I would do my best to help her. However, the definition of “helping her” was open to debate, and I had no idea where all this was going.

I happened to be an adjunct faculty member at Sandover U., but I counted client confidentiality more sacred than any allegiance I owned to a university where I earned all of $4,500 per semester. It occurred to me to tell Valerie, at this interesting juncture, that I was employed by Sandover, but that client privilege outranked my duty to report her to the Dean of the College of Communications. Having had this bombshell dropped on her, my young client seemed extremely nervous, and I could sense she wasn’t quite convinced that I would keep her secret. At this point, I took Valerie’s hand, looked her directly in the eye, and said, “Now listen, Valerie. You have my solemn word. I will never divulge your situation to the university, or anyone else, for that matter.” This ad-lib ceremony seemed to ease her mind, and in no time, the tension in the room had abated.

I spoke. “Okay, Valerie. Let’s see where we find ourselves. I promise you that I won’t lay any pat solutions on you. I recognize how complicated this is. But to be fair to you, I am pro-life. I hate abortion. But this is a totally different scenario.”

Valerie hadn’t told anyone at the university, other than her roommate, and she wasn’t yet “showing,” so she had a place to stay, and food to eat for the moment. She had told me that her parents were “old school,” and that it was possible when they found out, they wouldn’t allow her to return home. Having thought about it, I encouraged Valerie to hold off telling her parents, until we had an opportunity to spend some time working through what I had long since called the “presenting issues.”

I asked Valerie to imagine the embryo in her womb; how it looked and exactly where it was in her body at that time. She automatically closed her eyes, and a winsome smile appeared on her face. Afterwards, I asked her what she had been taught about conception and when life could properly be called life, “but better yet, what do you personally believe in this regard?” Valerie rattled off the standard Christian dogma, but her words seemed a bit too rehearsed, and I suggested she do some research, independent of my input. While I am convinced that life begins at conception, I adamantly believe I cannot possibly choose for my clients.

“Valerie, I’d like you to do some reading this week from books, the internet and other resources, as well as scripture. Check out what various professionals have said about conception and when it is life begins. Bounce that off what God’s Word tells us about when life begins. We’ll talk about your findings next time.”

I couldn’t think of a better place to begin. Valerie needed to formulate her own mindset on the subject. I felt justifiably biased, I must admit, since I had long since decided what I believed about the issue which had long since led to intense disagreements between father and daughter, mother and son, brother and sister in America, and I was convinced that Valerie would come to terms with what I regarded as the truth. But she had to do THIS herself.

When I met with this precious young lady, the next week, she seemed to have the faintest evidence of a belly that had not been there, heretofore. Valerie was assuming a glow that one only sees on the face of an expectant mother. We spent some time on the subject I assigned her the week before, and her part of the dialogue this week seemed so much more informed, and her persuasion of when life begins seemed measured and unrehearsed. I asked Valerie what she would be inclined to do if she were simply pregnant out of wedlock, and not also HIV Positive. She responded with, “Well, I’m ashamed that I compromised my values, and betrayed my parents, and the promise ring they gave me was nothing but a lie. But I have no doubt that I would go through with the pregnancy, and perhaps I would put the baby up for adoption.”

All this was hypothetical so far, as Valerie had not reached the time and place where a choice was inevitable, and absolutely had to be made. I reminded her of this fact. While she nodded her head, I was beginning to think her decision was beginning to take on reality, and I assumed she would keep the baby. But my assumptions had proved incorrect many times, as I counseled clients of with a myriad of issues.

I considered it imperative that Valerie have the latest information as she attempted to reach a conclusion about the fate of her unborn child. While I was pro-life, but my mindset allowed the slightest sway in terms of the life of the mother; (a concept that has been terribly abused in terms of third trimester abortions and the previously legalized killing of babies just prior to their birth. ) I also concluded that deformities in the embryo which would contribute to life-long medical problems might be a justifiable reason for abortion.

I made Valerie aware of a particular medication that, when given to the mother, insured a higher likelihood that the baby would be born HIV Negative and remain negative throughout their lifetimes. She had been under the impression that it was a foregone conclusion that her baby would have the same condition as hers. She received this news with a bit of shock, and much gladness, it seemed to me. I encouraged her to speak to her pre-natal doctor about this medication. She informed me that she hadn’t yet visited a doctor, but had self-administered three over the counter pregnancy tests, and they all confirmed her pregnancy. Valerie was aware of her eligibility for Medicaid and the use of county health facilities, and I encouraged her to apply for both. This she did the following week.

Being the “Master of Pat Phrases,” I have one for research and dispersal of information. I often tell clients that “Information is salvation (with a little s,) since information saves us from a multitude of problems, and allows us to make informed decisions. I was grateful I was able to share this particular bit of information with Valerie, but if she chose to keep her baby, there was still no guarantee he or she would be born HIV Negative.

The next week, Valerie made me aware that she and Robert were still in contact, and that he was pressuring her to get an abortion. He even made a thinly-veiled threat to tell both her parents, and university officials about her pregnancy. I countered that her parents and the university would know soon enough anyway, so Robert really didn’t have much “ammunition in his ammo pouches.” This seemed to encourage her. Somehow, as intelligent as I knew Valerie was, her common sense seemed to be a bit shallow, at times.

I received a call the following week; a couple days prior to Valerie’s session. She made me aware she had applied for pre-natal benefits, and had reached that most crucial decision she might ever make. “Well then, what is your decision?” I asked. She responded that, “Oh no, you won’t get it out of me that easily. I’ll tell you when we meet again.” I was relatively sure what her choice would be, but even so, I didn’t take it for granted, and the next two days were a bit anxious for me. I cared equally for the lives of Valerie and her child.

Of course, I had already encouraged Valerie to explore her options for treatment of the dread disease. The early months after her diagnosis were crucial, and she had already consulted a doctor in this regard, and he laid out a plan of treatment which involved a “cocktail” of medications. One notable personality named Magic Johnson has experienced great success in terms of maintaining his vitality and personal health, though he had carried the virus for years and years.

Valerie had a bright smile on her face as she met me in the lobby that day, and as we walked together up the “Yellow Brick Road.” As she sat on the couch, she said, “Okay, Dr. Bill, here’s the deal…,” then she paused, and waited for me to say, “This ‘ain’t’ fair, Valerie. Tell me. Tell me now!” Well, I can’t say I sounded all that professional, but this momentary wait was killing me. She brimmed with joy, as she finally said, “I’m going to keep my baby. I just can’t murder my own flesh and blood. Whether he is born HIV Positive or Negative, I have to at least give him a chance to live.”
 

(to be continued)
 

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "Unconventional Devotions" Copyright 2005

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