Esther Crowder's Baby Boy

By Cathy Hickerson

Esther Crowder's Baby Boy

 

Throughout her difficult pregnancy, Clarice Tripp's youngest daughter, twenty-three-year-old Esther Crowder, has had a disquieting inner sense that she would not survive the birth of her fifth child. Should her worst fears be realized, her oldest sister, Mary Margaret, has agreed to take the baby and rear the child as her own.

Having been widowed for nearly two decades, Clarice now faces the very real possibility of losing yet another beloved family member. Heartbroken at the thought of losing Esther, Clarice finds solace in the promises of God to never leave her nor forsake her even when the strong winds of adversity blow in upon her with gale-force strength. She has found her Savior to be a bulwark in the darkest hours of her sixty-plus years of living, and her faith has been made stronger from the trials and tests He has allowed to touch her life.

 

With a deep, abiding trust in the God Whom she loves and desires to obey, Mary Margaret struggles with anger and antipathy toward her brother-in-law, Raylin Crowder, regarding his treatment of Esther and the couple's children. Faced with one of the most difficult and challenging directives from the Holy Spirit she has ever encountered, the thirty-year-old must forge a pathway through uncertainty and resentment toward forgiveness and service to those whom she feels are the least deserving.

 

Although the relationship between Clarice and Mary Margaret always had deep roots, mother and daughter forge an even closer bond as the two of them exhibit their love and emotional and spiritual support for one another.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cathy Hickerson
• Release date: Nov 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781736226902

Cathy Hickerson

Born in Hickory, NC, I am blessed and proud to continue to call NC home. I hold a BS degree in Education and a MA in Higher Education. Having taught in both public and private schools, I retired as an instructor with the NC community college system in 2015. My husband, Lynn, and I have three children and six grandchildren. Being a longtime beach lover, I enjoy walking along and relaxing beside a sandy shore. The ebb and flow of waves toppling and crashing onto the seashell-strewn shore, leaving a trail of suds on the sand as the salty, greenish-colored water recedes, has a calming, almost tranquilizing effect on me. My ability to sit on a beach for hours gazing out upon the vast expanse of water, somewhat hypnotized by its sights, sounds, and smells, has never waned. Not in the least. The mountains are just as delightful to me as the ocean. Hiking along wooded trails listening to the enchanting sounds of the forest takes me back to the days of my childhood when I roamed through the woods behind my mama’s dream house, enthralled by the wonders and beauty of God’s glorious creation. My family and I still hike wooded trails as often as we can. We have enjoyed some of our most special times together as we walked along leaf-strewn paths, sharing thoughts and truths about life, love, and lessons learned. My Passions: God, Family, Playing Piano, Reading, Writing, the Great Outdoors

Book preview

Esther Crowder’s Baby Boy

Chapter 1

A Daughter’s Premonition

Esther Crowder was no stranger to morning sickness. She had experienced it with all four of her previous pregnancies. Baby number five was proving to be no different.

Well into her eighth month, Esther was still finding it difficult to keep food on her stomach. Unlike before, the nausea had not subsided after her first trimester. As difficult as it was to live with the queasiness she experienced on a regular basis, the excruciating headaches were even worse. They rarely subsided, even after taking endless doses of aspirin. Occasionally, she had resorted to a home remedy her mother had recommended—an apple cider vinegar-soaked strip of brown paper bag secured tightly around her forehead. The strong scent of the vinegar inflamed her sinuses and caused her eyes to burn, and the smell was just another addition to the many odors that caused her to regurgitate. Feeling frustrated and somewhat disheartened, Esther had all but given up hope of ever finding relief from the morning sickness and the headaches. It just goes with the territory, she thought.

It was Friday, April 12, her twenty-third birthday. Based on her calculations, previous pregnancies, and the fact that she could feel the baby much lower down in her pelvic area, Esther felt confident she would deliver her fifth child sometime within the next couple of weeks. Fourteen days, or thereabouts, and she would be holding her sweet little newborn in her arms.

An uneasiness within her spirit once again swept over her like a dark cloud that had moved in quickly to obscure the bright rays of sunlight on a beautiful summer’s day—a premonition of sorts. She tried to put away the foreboding thoughts, but they persisted, much to her dismay. Several times during the past few months she had felt this same disquiet seep into her heart and mind. She had not shared these thoughts with anyone but had pondered them deeply. She knew this pregnancy had been more difficult than the others, but she tried to convince herself that she was just getting older and her body wasn’t as resilient as it had once been.

She had slept fitfully, rising every couple of hours to try and soothe her headache with another home remedy given to her by one of the ladies at church. Combining menthol and camphor, the ointment brought only temporary relief, allowing her to doze back off to sleep when applied but waking again with excruciating pain an hour or two later. Pulling the worn patchwork quilt up closer around her shoulders, Esther lay in bed alone listening to the silence that would soon be broken by the sound of her little ones’ voices.

Feeling old and worn out, her body was wracked with pain on an almost daily basis. Nothing she did seemed to help. She had consigned herself to living with the pain as best as she could.

She mulled over the names she had chosen for her new baby since her husband, Raylin, had not been interested in helping her choose names. She would name her Lily Ann if the baby was a girl; if the baby was a boy, she would name him Kenny Ray. Rubbing her bulging belly, Esther once again closed her eyes and prayed silently that her child would be healthy and strong, that he or she would always feel her love, and that God would protect and provide for this little one all the days of his or her life.

Her mind wandered back to the days just before and shortly after she married Raylin. They had not known each other very long before he proposed to her, and her family, most especially her mother, had been concerned that they were rushing into marriage. She recalled how excited she had been to begin married life with Raylin. Against the advice of her mother and older siblings, sixteen-year-old Esther had married twenty-one-year-old Raylin Crowder at the onset of the Great Depression.

Handsome and charming, Raylin had been kind and considerate during those early days of courtship and marriage. Four babies had arrived in quick succession, each one having been born shortly after the previous child’s first birthday. Baby number five was about to make his or her appearance any day now.

There had been many challenges, and the years had been filled with seasons of joy and heartache. There were adjustments that had to be made as their little family of two quickly grew to become a family of three, four, five, six, and now seven. Financial hardships and difficulties had plagued them from the very beginning; and although her mother had often shared vegetables from her garden, along with fresh eggs and milk, there had still been times she and Raylin had gone without food in order for the children to have enough to eat. Raylin had grown more and more resentful about having to accept help from his mother-in-law, and there had been much disagreement between him and Esther regarding the matter. She didn’t like having to take food from her mother any more than he did, but there had been little money coming in with the loss of jobs during those early years of the Depression, and they had been left with no choice but to accept her mother’s generosity.

Hearing the pitter patter of little feet scurrying through the hallway, Esther knew she did not have the luxury of remaining in bed even on mornings her head felt like it would explode. With Raylin leaving early in the mornings for work and returning home late in the evenings, the young mother had little choice but to stoically persevere. Throwing back the warm covers, she wrapped her ragged blue cotton house robe as closely around her as it would fit, slid into her worn out bedroom slippers, and shuffled into the kitchen to make breakfast for her four little ones.

Preparing breakfast for the children was the hardest part of her day. The smells of bacon and eggs frying caused her nausea to kick into high gear. Just getting through the morning meal was a daunting task. Lately, she had been feeding them oatmeal with toast. It had seemed to help with her nausea, but the children did not want to eat oatmeal seven days a week. So, there were mornings when she prepared the nausea-inducing meal of bacon and eggs.

There was no money for a doctor. Lacking medical assistance and insurance, Esther had always relied on the help of her mother, who lived just up the road, and her older sisters when the time came to deliver her babies. Each baby had been delivered at home, and, fortunately, each birth had been without medical complications. She was not as certain that that would be the case this time.

She heard the familiar squeak of the front screen door opening.

Esther?

In here, mama, she answered.

Clarice Tripp followed the sound of her youngest daughter’s voice into the kitchen where Esther was washing the breakfast dishes. Edna Ruth, age six, Joy May, age five, and Leonard James, age three, were playing with old cardboard boxes a few feet away. Eighteen-month-old Millie Rose was sitting in the wooden highchair that had been handed down from Clarice.

The matriarch hugged her grandchildren and kissed each one on the cheek. She turned to her daughter and patted her on the shoulder.

How are you feeling today, honey?

Esther avoided looking into her mother’s eyes. 

Oh, ‘bout the same. The baby’s kicking a lot these days, especially at night. But I’m getting over the morning sickness, seems like.

Clarice was not persuaded. She knew her daughter too well and could see for herself that Esther’s weight had dropped in the last couple of months. She knew about the nausea and headaches, although she was unaware of their severity. She stood silent for a moment as she contemplated Esther’s words.

Esther, honey, look at me, Clarice said.

Esther turned to face her mother. The haggard look she bore concerned Clarice and told a different story than the one Esther conveyed. The once rosy-pink cheeks were now sunken and reflected a paler shade of light beige. The beautiful blue eyes that used to sparkle like tiny stars on the backdrop of a black-velvety night sky now had dark circles underneath them, causing her to look older than her age.

Clarice tried to think back to the last time she heard this cherished, once-radiant daughter’s deep, heart-felt laughter, but she could not remember when Esther