Shinning Moments
Expectations

by Yael Marmelstein

Rivka Kramer had just cozied up to the news that she was expecting another child when she and her husband Ezra went in for her routine ultrasound. It was one of those eerie late-night visits with their doctor, lending a surreal feeling to the moment. The doctor welcomed them with a smile, and Rivka felt at ease. However, a few minutes later, the doctor’s face was bleak. “I don’t like something that I’m seeing,” he said. “There is extra fluid buildup around the whole fetus and a high nuchal translucency.”

Rivka’s husband understood the implications right away. Their doctor was the prototypical, perennial optimist. He never overstated the case. Ezra fainted.

When Ezra was back to himself, the doctor gave his medical assessment. “Quite possibly we are looking at a chromosomal disorder. If it is a genetic problem, the best case scenario would be Down’s syndrome. Some of the other syndromes we are looking at are not compatible with life.”

Ezra and Rivka had a lot of talking to do in the car on the way home. They had to shift gears, the cadence of their lives suddenly assuming an unexpected rhythm. This would not be the usual — months full of gladness and anticipation, rosy with blushes of health and great expectations. They had been blessed with four beautiful children. Complication was a new word in their lexicon, one that they would become increasingly familiar with as the months progressed.

In the same breath, they realized that they had been chosen for this particular test, and they felt that if G-d had selected them for this challenge, He would continue to give them the wisdom to deal with whatever might come their way. They pledged to up the ante in their spiritual world in order to better the chances for their unborn child.

At home, they e-mailed their rav, who called them right away, though it was the middle of the night. He advised them to do further medical testing, in order to give themselves the tools to deal with what might lie ahead. He recommended dedicating themselves to speaking less lashon hara, and Rivka and Ezra took upon themselves to learn two laws pertaining to the topic every night. He also suggested lending extra kavanah to their davening, and particularly to say Nishmaseach night in appreciation of the gifts they had already received.

A few days later, the Kramers were on their way for further testing. It would still be some time until the results came back. But first they went in for another ultrasound in order to ensure that the baby was still alive. The doctors did not have high hopes for the survival of the fetus. Rivka wrote in her journal:

“If the fetus is alive, we will go for further tests. However, the doctor reminded me of the possibility that we will no longer see a heartbeat. Part of me feels that if the fetus dies at this stage that is the greatest chessed from Hashem, because then we could end this chapter in our lives and move on. Living in this state of not knowing is very difficult and emotionally exhausting. But finding out bad news and having to live with it could also be devastating, so really we don’t know what it is that we want.”

Those emotions, so raw, a window into a conflicted soul. She felt stuck between a rock and a hard place. But there was one soft spot left in the picture — their utter dependence on G-d. Rivka and Ezra pledged huge sums to charity, though their coffers were far from overflowing. Rivka resolved to reinstate minchah back into her schedule.

That erev Shabbos, the Kramers’ rav stopped in during Shalom Aleichem to lend them a parcel of encouragement to carry with them through the upcoming week. His presence and advice, and his consultations with gedolei hador, were invaluable to the Kramers.

They took care of the paperwork they needed to do and proceeded to the ultrasound department at Hadassah Ein Kerem Hospital. The doctor there concurred with the original ultrasound findings. The nuchal translucency was thickening, possibly indicating that the baby’s condition had deteriorated. She also noticed a possible deformation in the baby’s eye development. She called in another expert for a consultation.

They found that the baby’s eyes and the nasal bridge had possible deformations. There were also some suspicious things growing in the brain and major cysts growing on either side of the baby’s neck. The doctor wrote up her findings and sent the Kramers on their way.

Rivka and Ezra left the hospital with their heads spinning. Ezra did not know what he wanted, but he felt cradled in the hands of G-d and was confident that they were being led in the right direction. Rivka wished that some of that assurance would melt into her own pool of resources. Maintaining positivity was a herculean task.

They brought their case to be analyzed at yet another hospital. The doctor looked over their material and said: “I want you to know that we have had cases like yours that have turned out fine.” She paused. “Well, never with these kinds of results, but who knows, yours may be the first.”

Rivka felt her threads of hope unraveling.

When we take a glance at the world around us and we see the panorama of possibilities that could be doled out to each person, somehow we tend to shy away from attaching any of the less savory possibilities to ourselves. Why would the die roll on me? we might wonder.

But Rivka and Ezra knew that this was no gamble. G-d was pulling the strings, and they were plodding along in the midst of His plan. Rivka’s worldview changed. She started thinking, Why wouldn’t it happen to me?

It became difficult to function on a daily basis, especially since her nisayon was so personal. Though Rivka’s pain was real, it was pushed into a corner of herself, and she still had to maintain a façade of normalcy to the rest of the world. Each one of these things was another stop on the Kramers’ train. Another hurdle to conquer, another direction shift, another unexpected piece of news, another, another, another.

The first piece of good news came a little bit later. The last hospital had analyzed their test results. Rivka called with trepidation.

“Everything looks fine,” said the secretary.

Baruch Hashem,” said Rivka. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said the woman.

Baruch Hashem,” said Rivka again. “Are you positive?”

“Yes,” said the woman.

Baruch Hashem. Baruch Hashem.”

“Yes,” the nonreligious Jew on the other end of the phone said, “baruch Hashem.”

Rivka’s relief was palpable. Their rav was ecstatic. He reminded them to make good on their end of the deal regarding the extra mitzvos that they had taken upon themselves. He also said that they should go ahead with any further ultrasounds ordered by the doctors, but that they should do it with a smile on their faces, knowing that Hashem was looking out for them and doing what was best.

Rivka felt that this was easier said than done.

Though the next ultrasound revealed vast improvements in all areas, their doctor said that it was protocol to get an electrocardiogram of the baby’s heart to rule out any defects, based upon the earlier findings. This information might be necessary in order to help the baby immediately after birth. But overall the general ultrasound findings were normal! Rivka was elated, her misgivings quieted. She wrote in her journal:

“For whatever reason, Hashem wanted us to go through this experience. I think that we have both grown tremendously during this time, both as individuals and as a couple. It has also reinforced our belief that each child is a gift from Hashem and that having a large family is a blessing. I have devoted a lot more time to davening and not speaking lashon hara. Hashem should continue to help us to grow in these areas.”

The heart echo revealed that the baby had mild pulmonary stenosis, a heart condition that may require surgery but might also be less serious. Rivka took this in stride. After what she had expected, this paled. But when the doctors discovered a swollen foot, things became more complicated again.The swollen foot, combined with high nuchal translucency and all the other earlier findings, did not suggest a picture of a healthy baby. Another syndrome was suggested, and the Kramers were once again spiraling into the unknown. It seemed that there were monsters lurking behind every corner that Rivka and Ezra turned.

They had done enough of the medical circuit, in the hopes of knowing. But it seemed that they were destined to remain in the realm of the unknown. They still had two months to go.

So they turned to the only corner that had brought them solace all along. Every motza’ei Shabbos, when Ezra would say the words “LaYehudim hayesah orah v’simchah,” Rivka would pray mightily that her life should continue to be filled with the happiness that she had known until now. Only this time, her happiness would be all that much richer, since it had picked up so much substance on the way.

The doctor told the Kramers that the only way that this baby could be born normal would be through a miracle.

Well, then miracles can happen. After all of the arduous, anxious waiting, the Kramers welcomed a healthy baby boy into their family. There was no chromosomal disorder. There was no heart defect. The train was purring along.

“Gratitude,” said Rivka. “Pure gratitude. I want to always remember this feeling.”

On the one hand, she feels that she grew stronger after her difficult trip, but she would never have chosen the route that took her to this growth.

“When I say every morning lo lidei nisayon,’ I really mean it.”

Rivka was overwhelmed with joy. And yet, it was tinged with some other inexplicable feeling. For months the Kramers had built up the notion that G-d had hand-picked them for the trial of raising a special child. So what did this mean? Was she not worthy of such a challenge?

“In my mind, I went through all of the lifestyle changes that having special child would bring. Now, I look at all these mothers [of special chidren] and I just think that they’re amazing.”

Rivka’s oldest son came home one day recently and told his mother of a large family that he knows that takes on a new mitzvah every time a child is born as a thanksgiving to Hashem. What could their own family do now that this baby was born?

Rivka’s son did not know just how prophetic his words were. He had not been aware of his parents’ travails. The Kramer family decided to start a gemach of baby items in the merit of having this healthy gift of a child.

“I need to do something so that this will be with me for the rest of my life,” said Rivka. “I want to maintain this closeness that I have with Hashem and to try to appreciate what I have every time I look at the baby.”

Rivka just needs to make sure that she’s still on track all the time. But the train is barreling full speed ahead.

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