Crooked Cross: A Mother's Love

By Beth Annen

In a hospital room, staring at a crucifix hanging crooked on the wall across from her bed, a young mother struggles with her grief after giving birth to a stillborn son. She feels a rush of anger toward God run through her body. God slowly starts to speak to her, letting her know he has other plans for her life. In the years to come, God sends twenty-eight different children into her life through foster parenting, adoption, and hosting foreign exchange students. Life is turned upside down with a battle to save a daughter on a destructive path who is fighting with bipolar disorder. Then a double tragedy hits. Only God's grace and love can bring this family back together again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798891303485

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Crooked Cross

A Mother's Love

Beth Annen

ISBN 979-8-89130-347-8 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-89130-348-5 (digital)

Copyright © 2024 by Beth Annen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

This book was written for my grandchildren. My heart and soul are intertwined with yours.

Acknowledgement

Author's Note

Chapter 1

The Crooked Cross

Chapter 2

Fostering

Chapter 3

Three Sisters

Chapter 4

A New Family

Chapter 5

Changes

Chapter 6

The Nursing Hat

Chapter 7

Foreign Exchange Students

Chapter 8

Making Bad Decisions

Chapter 9

Years of Trouble

Chapter 10

Will Things Ever Change?

Chapter 11

Abuse

Chapter 12

Pregnant

Chapter 13

Another Move

Chapter 14

Another Adoption

Chapter 15

Letting Go

Chapter 16

Helping Out

Chapter 17

EDS

Chapter 18

Cats and Dogs

Chapter 19

RAD

Chapter 20

Disney Cruise

Chapter 21

Bipolar

Chapter 22

Retirement

Chapter 23

The First Threat

Chapter 24

Burlington

Chapter 25

Drama

Chapter 26

The Second Threat

Chapter 27

Open and Shut Communication

Chapter 28

What Is Happing in This Household?

Chapter 29

The Final Threat

Chapter 30

The Grapevine

Chapter 31

The Phone Call

Chapter 32

Hugs

Chapter 33

The Past Few Years

Chapter 34

Fire

Chapter 35

Meeting the Simplest Needs

Chapter 36

The Visitation

Chapter 37

Saying Goodbye

Chapter 38

Closure

Help Is Available

About the Author

This book was written for my grandchildren. My heart and soul are intertwined with yours.

Acknowledgement

This story would not have taken place without the love and support of my family and friends. Thank you, Craig, for always encouraging me. Thank you, my beautiful daughter Melissa, for your knowledge and input. I thank my very special friends Nancy Wollmuth, Mary Lou Moran, and Jane Brown, who encouraged and helped me persevere through the writing of this book. A special thank you to Margaret Manos, my editor, and to Shante Gray and Christian Faith Publishing for helping me through this process.

Author's Note

Crooked Cross: A Mother's Love is a true story. Some of the characters' names have been changed to protect their anonymity. This book is written from my perception only. Others may perceive a person or a situation differently.

Chapter 1

The Crooked Cross

Our life was simple once. With just one decision, everything changed. Mental illness has become a struggle and a harsh reality in our lives. It altered the lives of the people I love the most. In return, my loved ones' decisions altered and changed my life forever.

Craig, Melissa, and I were a happy family of three. Our beautiful little girl, Melissa, had strawberry-blond hair and blue eyes, just like her father. However, her hair changed with the seasons. It was darker in the winter and a very light blond in the summer. Unlike her father's, whose hair was thinning, her hair was more like mine—thick and straight. Mine has always been a dark brown, almost black. Melissa had her father's passion for learning and trying new things. She had my gentle heart and the desire to please.

My husband, Craig, is a daredevil who pushes himself beyond his comfort zone. Almost everything he does turns out amazing because of all the time and effort he puts into any project he is working on. Craig is an extrovert, whereas I am more of an introvert. Since we married, Craig has been able to pull me out of my shell, and I have been able to keep him from doing anything too dangerous or crazy.

Having a child who was the best of both of us was a real blessing. So why did I want to have more children? Since I was a little girl, I have always wanted a house full of kids. Craig and I both come from large families. I come from a family of four girls. I am the second-oldest. Craig is the fourth in a family of five—three boys and two girls. My sisters and I are all about three years apart, with just enough age distance between us to play together as children but also to fight like cats and dogs. Since we are now older, my three sisters are my best friends. Even though we do not live in the same state anymore, we have remained close.

Melissa was five years old when I became very ill. I thought I was coming down with the flu. I had no appetite, had aches and pains in all my joints, and was running a temperature of 101. Three days passed without any improvement. Then I started to feel worse as my temperature soared up to 103. I got myself into a cool shower. I became dizzy and almost passed out. I called my doctor's office and was told to come in right away. I didn't think driving myself to the doctor was safe, so I called Craig at work and told him he needed to come home. We dropped Melissa off at my dad's house on the way to the doctor's office.

The doctor in the examination room introduced himself as Dr. Carlson and his nurse as Kim. When the nurse took my vital signs, my temper had risen to 103.5 degrees. Dr. Carlson listened to my lungs; looked inside my ears, nose, and throat; and felt for any swelling of my glands. Finally, the nurse drew blood for the lab work the doctor ordered, and they both left the room.

I sat in the little examination room, shivering with chills from the high fever. It felt like an hour before the nurse finally came back into the room and noticed my uncontrollable shaking. She left and came back with a warm blanket, along with Dr. Carlson. The doctor stated that the lab work showed an elevated white blood count, which indicated I had an infection. It also showed I was pregnant.

It had taken me a few years to get pregnant with Melissa. I wanted more children. Craig on the other hand was happy with having only one child. We made a joint decision not to use birth control and see what happened. When the lab work came back showing I was pregnant, I was a little shocked. I knew I was late with my monthly cycle, but it was by only a few days. What did Dr. Carlson mean when he said he thought there was a problem with the pregnancy?

It was not long before Dr. Carlson returned with Dr. Grant, an obstetrician. After a pelvic exam, Dr. Grant told me I would be taken down to surgery for a laparoscopy to see if I had miscarried. This minimally invasive procedure uses a thin, lighted tube inserted through a small incision and causes only a small scar.

In the surgery room, I was helped onto a very hard table with bright, white lights shining down on the table. The lights stung my eyes. The anesthesiologist put a mask over my face, and everything went black.

I woke up to a sharp stabbing pain in my lower abdomen. My mouth felt like I had swallowed sawdust, and I could not swallow because there was no saliva in my mouth. A nurse was standing at my side. I asked her if I could have some water. She said, No, not yet, and something else I could not understand.

My instinct was to hit her, and I did. I know people can act out of character if they are in pain, frightened, confused, or under the influence of certain drugs. At once, I started to apologize to her. This was not me. I am the kind of person who will shy away from any confrontation, verbal or physical.

Dr. Grant came to see me in the recovery room and explained that I had what was called an ectopic or tubal pregnancy. In an ectopic pregnancy, the egg fertilizes outside the uterus, usually in the fallopian tube. The fallopian tube can rupture as the fetus grows. There is no hope for the fetus's survival because it must attach to the uterine wall to grow and be nourished. This type of pregnancy can also be dangerous to the mother because of the hemorrhaging of the tube, leading to septic shock and even death.

Dr. Grant also explained that he had performed what they call ectopic milk of the fallopian tube. He had saved the fallopian tube by milking it with an instrument similar to the kind used to milk a cow. I did not know what to think of this statement. I just started to laugh. The drugs I was given for surgery made me feel hazy and confused. I had a much larger incision across my lower abdomen because of the space needed for this milking instrument and for the doctor's fingers to work the device.

I phoned my mother and updated her on my procedure and how I felt. She told me about her good friend who had suspected she was pregnant in the early 1940s and then without any reason or warning had died. Back then, laparoscopic equipment was not available. Ultrasounds, MRIs, and other types of equipment that would help to see inside the human body were not in use yet. This was a real eye-opener for me. If I had lived back in the 1940s and had an ectopic pregnancy, I most likely would have died at age twenty-eight, leaving behind a young daughter and husband.

My second day in the hospital was a Sunday. I was still feeling the effects of the anesthesia. My abdomen felt split in two since it was held together by staples.

I was in a double occupancy room. The woman in the next bed had just been brought back from early-morning surgery and had not yet woken up. An older gentleman wearing a suit, whom I did not recognize, entered the room. He asked if I would like to take communion. The Methodist church I had been going to had communion once a month. The church had two different services, with over a hundred people at each service. I thought perhaps this man went to the early service. I went to the later one.

I understood the meaning of holy communion. The bread is the body of our Christ, and the wine or grape juice is the blood of Christ, the sacrament of Christ's death. The older gentleman and I prayed together, and then I took communion. I felt at peace as the man left my room.

A few minutes later, the man returned. He started to pace back and forth in front of my bed. He said, I am sorry. I was given the wrong information at the front desk. I thought you were your roommate, who is a member of my church. My church is a Catholic church. I am sure God will forgive you.

As he walked out of the room, I knew God did not hold this against me. Why would he? God also forgave the man who gave me a Catholic communion by mistake. Why do we put sin upon one another when we believe in the same God? We are all God's children, even though we may worship in different churches.

I found out I was pregnant again four months later, in September. Craig had gotten a promotion to superintendent of postal operations at the post office in Streator, Illinois. Streator was about three hours by car from our home in Cary, Illinois. The plan was for Craig to stay in Streator during the week and drive back home on the weekends while I began packing and working with a real estate agent to sell our house. Meanwhile, Craig would work with a real estate agent in Streator to find us a home there.

My pregnancy went well for the first two months. Then, near the end of the third month of my pregnancy, I started to experience some mild cramping and slight bleeding. I called Dr. Grant's office and made an appointment for an ultrasound the next day. Because I was pregnant and needed to have a full bladder for this examination, when the technician rubbed the cool gel over my abdomen, I only wanted to pee. The technician turned the screen to me with a smile on her face. She pointed out two tiny sacs.

The technician said, It may be too early to tell, but it looks like you might be having twins, fraternal twins.

I could not believe what I was seeing. But yes, there were definitely two little sacs on the ultrasound screen.

After talking to the nurse and making a follow-up appointment, I was sent home and told to take it easy, which was easier said than done. Melissa was an easy child to take care of, but she was also only five years old. The house still had to be kept clean since it was being shown by the realtor a few times a week. I was still trying to pack items and clothes we did not need. Thank God I had some good friends and family who came over to help.

A friend who lived down the block helped us out by having Melissa over after school and having us over for supper once in a while. My mother-in-law suggested Melissa and I come and live with them until we could move to Streator. Unfortunately, my in-laws lived thirty miles away. I did not think this would work out since Melissa had already started school and loved her kindergarten teacher.

Craig and I were so excited we were having twins. Twins! Having fraternal twins meant I could have two girls, two boys, or a girl and a boy. The idea of having twins blew my mind since no one in my family or Craig's had ever had twins. The rest of November and December went by with some slight cramping and bleeding. Dr. Grant did not think I should worry, so I didn't.

I talked to Craig multiple times during the week. It sounded like his new job was going well. He said he just had so much to learn. I would keep Craig updated on my doctors' visits as Dr. Grant closely monitored my pregnancy. Meanwhile, we sold our house in Cary.

I went to Streator for a long weekend to look at houses. Even though Craig had narrowed the list of available homes, looking for a house in one short weekend was still confusing and exhausting.

Finally, I stepped into an old Victorian house on Broadway Street and knew this was home as soon as I walked in the door. It had a massive front porch hidden by large evergreen bushes. The foyer was vast, with a beautifully carved wood oak banister leading up to the second floor. Original oak parquet floors flowed through the main floor. There was a massive beveled and jeweled stained-glass window in the entryway. It was exquisite and had every color in the rainbow shining through it. A fireplace in the living room had a light green tile with cherub angels. We found out after we bought the house that one of the tiles slid sideways to reveal a secret compartment. This house also had a staircase in the back, from the kitchen to the upstairs, used by the servants in century-old homes. The laundry room was on the second floor. At one time, the second floor had been used as an apartment. The old kitchen was now the laundry room. There were three spacious bedrooms and two full bathrooms in this house. Our house in Cary had been a starter home with two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and an unfinished basement when we first moved in. That house was small. This Victorian house needed some updating, but it looked like a mansion.

We were not moving into our new house until the first of February. Craig came home to Cary over Christmas and New Year's. I noticed that he looked tired and had lost some weight. His hair was starting to thin. I felt the new job and being away from home were starting to take a toll on him. On New Year's Eve, we went to a friend's house to celebrate the coming year.

A very moist, heavy snow had started to fall overnight. We started back home a little after midnight. Our friend's house was only a little over a mile away. Slow and steady, we drove with the windshield wipers going back and forth at full speed. We were almost home when the car's tires got stuck in the thick, heavy snow. Craig swore under his breath. We all got out of the car and walked the rest of the way to the house. Melissa and I went into the house while Craig went into the garage to get a snow shovel and some salt.

As soon as I got into the house, I felt a significant release of fluid gush between my legs. I knew without looking that it was blood. I told Melissa to get ready for bed and ran into the bathroom. I was right. A large amount of light red blood on my underpants had seeped through to my pants. I felt faint. I started to cry, but then Melissa knocked on the closed bathroom door and wanted me to tuck her into bed. I was able to quickly tuck her into bed without her noticing that I was upset. I changed my clothes and climbed into bed. I put my buttocks on a pillow, as my doctor had suggested when I was spotting before, to help stop the bleeding.

Craig came into the house about half an hour later. He had been able to get the car out of the snow and move it into the garage. I told him about the bleeding. We both decided we were not going anywhere that night. I fell asleep and did not wake up until the following day. It had stopped snowing. The sun was out, and the salt trucks had been busy clearing most of the roads all night. The bleeding I had had the night before had not stopped, but it was not as heavy as it had been. I decided I still needed to have things checked since there was more bleeding than I had had previously.

I was sure Dr. Grant was getting sick of hearing from me. At one point, he reminded me that my pregnancy was still in the early stage and not much could be done about the cramping and spot bleeding I was having. He explained that sometimes the fetus (or the fetuses, in this case) was not developing the way it should or that there were other problems not visible on an ultrasound. In simple terms, I could have a miscarriage. I did not want to listen to what Dr. Grant was implying. I did not care what sex the babies were. I did want my babies to be healthy, as any expectant mother does. I also knew that if the babies were not healthy, with ten fingers and ten toes each, we would still love them. I just wanted them so badly.

I called the doctor's answering service. I was happy to hear that Dr. Grant was on call. He told me again to come into the hospital, and he would meet me there. The first thing the doctor ordered was another ultrasound. So far, this was my fourth ultrasound. This ultrasound was different from the other ultrasounds. There was only one sac visible, not two. Comparing my last ultrasound to this one, Dr. Grant explained that one fetus was probably not developing normally and had miscarried. This was back in 1983. Ultrasound imaging was only starting to be used. It was impossible to see the fetus as well as you can see it today. You were not able to tell the sex of the baby. Now you can see full images of your baby with very detailed features.

I was devastated. Dr. Grant reassured me that I was still carrying one healthy baby who was growing and developing at a standard rate. However, he was concerned about another problem that he called placenta previa. Placenta previa is a condition where the placenta covers the opening in the mother's cervix. If you have placenta previa, you can have severe bleeding during pregnancy and delivery.

Dr. Grant said I would have to limit my activity. He wanted me to avoid any exercise and to restrain from doing any lifting over five ponds. I was advised to rest and put my feet up whenever possible. I was to avoid going up and down stairs if possible. If I needed to take the stairs, I was to take them slowly, one at a time.

A cesarean section is usually required with this kind of pregnancy. I went back home and tried to stay off my feet. We were moving in a few weeks, and Craig had to return to work. I again had to depend on family and friends to help me out.

Moving day finally came. My mother, her husband, and my two younger sisters followed us down to Streator to help us move and settle in. I was so grateful for them. I sat up in a chair and directed where things should go. We had professional movers, so Craig did not have to do all the heavy lifting by himself. I needed his help with so many things during this time.

The problem with moving into a new town is that you must start all over again with finding a new school, new church, new grocery store, and new doctor. Finding the right doctor was a real problem for me. Dr. Grant and I had formed a strong bond over my troubled pregnancy. There were not many obstetricians on staff at St. Mary's, the only hospital in Streator. I found a Dr. Chen, an obstetrician available to take on new patients. I set up an appointment for the week after we moved into town. Dr. Chen was much older than Dr. Grant, but he put me at ease like a father figure. I still had a lot of spot bleeding, but Dr. Chen reassured me that everything would be fine. I went home from my first doctor's visit with my emotions flying high. I had been so busy with the move, saying goodbye to friends, and tying up loose ends, all while trying to stay off my feet. I was just so ready to start this new chapter