<< Go Back

Ralley Point: Place Of Refuge

By Daniel Bishop

Order Now!

Prologue

June 2054
“Dad?”
“Yes, Ralley.”
“What’s up with these binders?” I asked, plunking the box on his countertop. He smiled and put his hand to his chin. He always does that when he’s thinking. My dad, Leif Baskin, is an eighty-four-year-old widower. My mom, Dyanna Jo, passed away a few years ago. Dad lives alone in a rancher with attic storage above the garage. A few months ago, I came over to visit, asking me to get something out of a box in the attic. Easier said than done! It took me almost an hour due to the clutter, so I decided to come back later and organize the attic chaos. 
Today is that day. I’ve been toiling mightily and have the sweat to prove it. About three-fourths of the way through, I found a box simply marked BOOKS. I assumed it was a jumble of old books he’d read and didn’t want to toss, so he shoved them in the attic.
Boy, was I wrong! Imagine my surprise when I explored the contents and found a collection of three-ring binders. The contents flooded my heart with memories. I lugged the box down the ladder, happy to leave the hot attic.
“Oh. Those are the books I wrote several years ago.”
“They don’t look like books.”
“Actually, they’re our journals. They need to be edited and turned into books. I just never got around to it. It would be nice if they were published, but I don’t really want to mess with it now.”
“This is about our family, right? The fostering and adoptions?”
“Yep. Remember, I asked you to write a few of the chapters.”
“Oh yeah! I completely forgot about that.”
“Mom wrote some of the chapters, too,” he commented. 
“Now, I remember. Remember how she would always mix up her words? She would be talking, and suddenly she would replace a word with another that completely changed the meaning of what she was trying to say.” I smiled at the memory.
“We got a good laugh out of that, didn’t we?” he chuckled. “It would drive her crazy.”
“What you and Mom did was important, Dad. It mattered a lot,” I said, feeling a sudden swell of emotion.
“I think so. It was important to us, that’s for sure,” he agreed.
“Hey, do you mind if I take them home with me so I can read them again?” I asked.
“That’s why I wrote them,” he answered.
“I would love to work on getting them edited and published,” I added. “It would be a shame not too after all the research and work you put into them.”
“I think I would like that,” he agreed. “I definitely did a lot of research, but I wasn’t able to find out everything. I pieced what I could together and wrote what I thought might have happened. Some of it is my speculation on how things went.”
“When Haley and River were older, didn’t we find their birth parents?”
“Yes, they both asked us to find their biological parents. They said they had a message for them.”
“I remember that. Did you write about that?”
“Yes, that’s in the third journal. In fact, I called that journal The Message. Haley and River’s birth parents shared their stories with us. They wanted their stories told as well.”
“I see the first journal is called Ralley Point,” I commented as I dug through the box. “The second one is Family Tree.”
“That’s the one where I went to Boston to chase an interesting direction in the family tree.”
“I recall you came back from your trip and wouldn’t tell us a thing about it. You made us wait until you had written the journal,” I said, smiling and shaking my head.
“I enjoyed that immensely,” he chuckled. 
“You’ve always had a mischievous side to that quiet, unassuming persona you wear.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He replied, acting offended. 
* * *
The three-ring binders chronicled our time as a foster family — a time capsule written from our various points of view. Dad started working on them in 2016. It took him several years to write them because he had a thing called a full-time job. On the weekdays, he would get up an hour earlier to work on them. He didn’t work on them at night or on the weekends. He wanted to make sure he reserved that time for us. He combined the chapters Mom and I wrote with his own, most of it about our early lives together and how we added my sister and brother to the fold. My siblings were foster children, and Mom and Dad eventually adopted them. I’m now fifty-seven, Haley is forty-six, and River is forty-five. My sister and brother have been such a blessing to us all. They have different birth parents, and their stories are potent sagas of refuge, redemption, and restoration.
It wasn’t always comfortable being a foster family, though. It was uplifting yet shocking at times. Most of our foster children had lived in deplorable conditions. Some had been abused. I’m thankful Mom and Dad opened their home to all the kids who came through our house. The whole process meant a lot to all of us.
“Dad, I’m going to go home to take a shower. Then I’m going to start reading these binders. Do you need me to do anything before I go?”
“No, I think you’ve done quite enough,” he said, trying to sound upset. “You’ve messed up my carefully organized attic, and now I’ll never be able to find anything. You’ve also accused me of being mischievous. You just run along now. I’ve had about enough of your help and accusations for one afternoon.”
I walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes had a mischievous twinkle.
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, and thank you for all your help.”
I patted him on the shoulder, and then I headed home. After showering, I told my husband, Chandler, that he was on his own for dinner. I headed to my home office and curled up in my favorite chair. Then I picked up the first binder and began reliving how we became a Rally Point.

Chapter 1

Pluses and Minuses


I’m Leif Baskin, and Ralley is my daughter from my first marriage. Our journey has a lot of pluses and minuses, so to speak. We’ve had times of mourning, periods of adjustment, and plenty of celebrations, trusting God through it all.
Janet, my wife, died of breast cancer when Ralley was five years old. The treatments didn’t help, and both Ralley and I were devastated, for Janet was an exceptional mother and wife. On that fateful day, October 17, 2001, I became a widower and never thought I’d meet someone who could be a mom to Ralley and a wife to me. Then Dyanna Jo came into our lives. We married on February 27, 2004. That is a story unto itself.
I’m widowed again after losing Dyanna Jo. We spent many adventuresome decades together, but our roots as foster parents were planted when she miscarried. It’s bittersweet as I look back and remember how the process unfolded.
* * *
Leif's Journal, May 2007
“Dad.”
“Yes, Ralley.”
“I hope everything’s okay with the ultrasound.”
Ralley, who was ten at the time, was my blue-eyed, blond-haired daughter with a cute row of freckles going from under one eye, across her nose, to under the other eye. 
“I do, too,” I agreed. 
My wife, Dyanna Jo, was pregnant, and we were going to our second ultrasound in six weeks. Dyanna Jo was a petite woman—five feet three inches tall—but a ball of fire. Her hair was dyed red, but when I first met her, it was dyed blond. Her hair color changed just about every time she went to the salon. Her eyes were a smoky blue, and she had a cute little nose. 
She wanted kids. I was okay with just having Ralley, but I didn’t think it was right to keep Dyanna Jo from experiencing pregnancy and birth. So, we started trying right away but weren’t successful. It was very disheartening to work for so long and not have any results. 
After three years of trying and failing to get pregnant, we decided to be more scientific in our efforts… which was funny because Dyanna Jo was far from a model student in high school. She barely graduated. The thought of her doing anything scientific was comical until I recalled how talented, tenacious, and intelligent Dyanna Jo was as long as the end goal was something she wanted. Once she set her mind on it, she was an unstoppable force of nature and proved it by timing her ovulation, taking her temperature, and getting all kinds of charts and graphs. It was remarkable, and I half expected to see her with a boiling pot, making some kind of pregnancy potion. 
On March 31, she called me at work.
“I, um, did something today,” she confessed after I answered the phone. 
Oh boy. “What did you do this time?” I asked, knowing she either embarrassed herself or made an idiot of herself or both.
“Why do you say, ‘this time’? You make it seem like I do stuff regularly.”
“Probably because you do. So, did you embarrass yourself or make an idiot of yourself?”
“I would have to say I did both,” she laughed. “But I was excited, and you’re going to be excited too.” 
“Why were you excited?” I played along.
“You have to promise me you won’t be mad,” she said in a syrupy sweet voice.
“I promise.”
“Two days ago, I thought I was pregnant. I got a pregnancy test to see if I was. Do you know how they work?”
“Yes, you pee on them, and then you wait for the results.”
“Yes! I got one that shows a plus sign if you’re pregnant and a minus sign if you’re not. After I waited the amount of time, I checked it. It looked like it was a plus, but it was so faint I couldn’t tell for sure. I decided to call Dr. Swanson to have her do a test. I went there today. Mom is with Ralley.”
“Are you pregnant?” I asked, hopefully.
“Let me finish my story of how I idiotically embarrassed myself.”
“Okay.”
“I brought the test with me. When I got there, I showed it to the receptionist. I was just so excited. I put it up close to her so she could see how faint the plus was. She didn’t look too thrilled and scooted her chair back a little. ‘I get it,’ she huffed. I then sat in the waiting room, and there were five women there as well. I proceeded to show them.”
“Did you shove it in their faces too?” I asked, already knowing the answer and shaking my head. 
“Well, I had too,” she emphasized. “The sign was so faint.” 
“Yeah, that makes perfect sense,” I said sarcastically. “I bet they were nonplussed about it.” My pun sailed right past her. 
“I sat there for about ten minutes. When the nurse called me, I showed it to her, and she looked at me funny. As we walked down the hall to the room, I showed it to everyone I came across. They all looked at me like I was crazy!”
“Imagine that.”
“Oh, shoot! I missed my turn.”
“Are you driving?” I blurted.
“Yes. I missed my turn, and I don’t know where I am. I’ve been so distracted by talking to you that I don’t know where I am.”
“How about you pull into a parking lot and finish talking to me. Then figure out where you are.” 
Is she going to be this crazy the whole pregnancy? I asked myself. I was quiet for a minute.
“Okay, I’m parked now, and I think I know where I am.”
“Well, as long as you think you know. That’s probably the best we can hope for.”
“Where was I?” she asked. 
“You were about to tell me if you’re pregnant,” I sighed. 
“I am definitely pregnant.”
“Yes!” I exclaimed. 
“Are you okay?” she asked, sounding concerned.
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“You don’t usually show that much excitement.”
“It’s not every day your wife tells you she’s pregnant.”
“That’s true. Dr. Swanson scheduled an ultrasound for two weeks from now. I made the appointment so you can go when you get off work. I want you with me.”
“Good. I want to be there too.”
“Well, I should go. I’ve kept you on the phone long enough.” 
“That’s okay. I enjoy talking to my idiot wife.” 
“Haha, I don’t embarrass you too much, do I?”
“I’m used to it.”
“You’re not mad at me for not telling you until today?”
“No, you wanted to make sure before you told me. I’m fine with that.” 
“Good. I’ll talk to you when you get home.” 
We hung up. This is going to be an amusing nine-months, I thought.
* * *
That night, we took Ralley out to dinner and put a stuffed baby giraffe on the table in front of her. After Dyanna Jo got off the phone with me, she finally figured out where she was and where she was going. She went to the baby store and bought the stuffed giraffe.
“What’s this for?” Ralley asked.
“You’re going to be a big sister!” Dyanna Jo gushed.
“You’re pregnant?” Ralley asked, stunned.
“Yes, she is,” I beamed. “And, in two weeks, she’s having an ultrasound, and you and I are going too.”
Ralley was excited about that. I was too.
“I got a baby giraffe for you and one for me. At night, when we go to bed, we can snuggle with our giraffes and pray for this sweet baby who will soon be joining our family,” Dyanna Jo explained.
Two weeks later, we went to Dr. Swanson’s for the ultrasound. The ultrasound room had a monitor on the wall, so Ralley and I could see the ultrasound as it was happening. I liked that. After the ultrasound, Dr. Swanson talked to us in her office.
“It looks like you’re about seven weeks along, but the heartbeat isn’t as fast as it should be. It’s ninety-four, and it should be around one-twenty. I would like for you to come back in two weeks to do another ultrasound.”
“Do you think the baby is in trouble?” Dyanna Jo asked nervously.
“I don’t think so. Sometimes, the heartbeat is slow at first, but by the next ultrasound, it’s fine. However, I want to be cautious because of how long it took you to get pregnant. I will be doing a couple more ultrasounds than I usually do.”
We were a little concerned after the appointment but decided not to let our imaginations run away with us.
* * *
“Dad,” Ralley said as I was driving us to the doctor’s office for the second ultrasound.
“Yes, Ralley.”
“Are you hoping for a boy?”
“No. I’m hoping for a healthy baby, and I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“Well—” That’s my wife speaking up. She can’t go too long without throwing her two cents in— “I think its a boy. If it’s a girl, I will be just as happy, and yes, the main thing is for the baby to be healthy. But I think it will be a boy.”
“And what makes you think it will be a boy?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I just do.”
“Ah. Women’s intuition. This should be interesting to see if you’re right.”
We got to the doctor’s office, checked in, and then proceeded to wait. Our appointment was at 10 a.m. We got there a few minutes before ten. The ultrasound tech, Lisa, came and got us about fifteen minutes later. She was the same one who did the ultrasound the other time.
We got back to the room and were all happy and jovial. Dyanna Jo wasn’t too keen because it was a transvaginal ultrasound. She didn’t care much for that, but the doctor wanted it done because it gave a better view of the uterus.
Lisa had everything ready. She started the procedure once Dyanna Jo was on the table. She did a few things on her control panel. I noticed that the baby looked smaller than the previous time. I figured it was because I didn’t know how to read the ultrasound and was lucky just to be able to make out the baby.
Lisa did a few more things on her panel, put markers on either end of the baby, and made some measurements. She had gotten noticeably quieter. Dyanna Jo picked up on it and asked what was wrong.
Talk about a startling change in the atmosphere. One minute there was laughter and happiness because we were seeing the baby again, and the next, there was this deep feeling of dread.
“What’s wrong?” Dyanna Jo asked again, feebly.
“I’m just finishing up,” Lisa replied gently with a tentative smile. “the doctor will go over everything with you.” She did a few more things on her keyboard and then told Dyanna Jo she could get dressed.
After Dyanna Jo got dressed, Lisa walked us to the doctor’s office. We had been in her office before, however, I hadn’t noticed the pictures of her two kids on her desk. They looked like they were about five to seven years old.
“I’ve looked at the ultrasound,” she started. “I’m sorry to say that we were unable to detect a heartbeat.”
All we could do was stare and nod. Dyanna Jo reached for a tissue but took the whole box.
“What?” Dyanna Jo asked quietly.
“You’ve had a miscarriage,” Dr. Swanson confirmed. She paused for a couple of minutes and continued by saying, “Before I had these two,” she pointed to her kid’s picture, “I had two miscarriages. I want to say you did nothing to cause this. You might be thinking there’s something you did that brought on the miscarriage, but that’s not the case. These things happen, and you don’t need to feel guilty.”
“Well, what caused it then?” Dyanna Jo mumbled between sniffs. “I had a couple of drinks before I found out I was pregnant. Could that be it?”
“No, it’s just one of those things. The chromosomes were probably too damaged, and once it reached a certain point, it couldn’t keep developing.”
“I thought that,” I admitted. “Dyanna Jo having a beer or two before she found out she was pregnant, couldn’t have caused this. That happens to lots of women, so I’m sure that wouldn’t have caused a miscarriage.”
“No, it wouldn’t. Repeatedly drinking alcoholic beverages during the entire pregnancy would cause major problems for the baby, but not a drink or two so early in the pregnancy.”
“So, what do we do now?” Dyanna Jo whispered.
“I would recommend seeing a fertility specialist. Since you’ve had a hard time getting pregnant, had a miscarriage, and your current age is thirty-nine, I think it would be good to see one.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” I asked.
“Yes, Dr. James Kennedy. I’ll send him a referral, and his office will call you to set up an appointment.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have any more questions?”
“No,” I answered.
Dyanna Jo just shook her head.
We left the office and walked to the car. None of us felt like talking. We got in the car and drove home, still not talking. I wondered what Ralley must be thinking. She didn’t seem to be as upset as us and seemed a little confused.
We got home, parked the car in the garage, and we all went inside the house. Dyanna Jo went straight to our room. Ralley went to her bedroom, and I followed her.
“Do you know what has happened?” I asked her.
“Mom lost the baby,” she replied.
“I asked because you looked confused, and I just wanted to make sure you knew why your mom and I are upset.”
“I am confused. I mean, I guess not confused, but disoriented. I’m trying to change how I’ve been thinking.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been thinking of all the things I planned on doing with my brother, and now I won’t have a brother, and it’s just all unsettling and topsy turvy.”
“I can understand that. It is unsettling and topsy turvy. Did you think it was going to be a boy?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I just thought it would be, and I named him River.”
“Dyanna Jo thought it would be a boy also. She hadn’t thought of a name, though. River is a good one. I’ll have to tell her.”
She laid down in her bed, and I made sure she was as okay as she could be, considering the circumstances. Then I went to our bedroom and laid down. Dyanna Jo was lying there, holding her baby giraffe. One last thing Dyanna Jo was going to have to do was go back in three days for a D&C. Dr. Swanson said she needed to get the placenta and any fetal matter out because it could cause an infection if not removed from the uterus. Dyanna Jo wasn’t thrilled to have to go through that.
* * *
Ralley's Journal
One minute, Mom and Dad were joking around, and the next, they were intense and wearing pained expressions. Talk about a drastic change in the mood. It was like all the air got sucked out of the room. It took me a while to understand I wasn’t going to be a big sister. My mood changed. I don’t think I felt as bad as Mom and Dad. I mean, I wasn’t crying like they were, but I was on the verge of it.
As we sat in Dr. Swanson’s office, I thought about all the things I had planned on doing with my brother. I just knew it was a brother. I could help with changing diapers, feeding him, giving baths, making faces, and hearing him laugh. Tickling him and hearing him squeal. Dr. Swanson told us about the heartbeat as soon as she sat down at her desk. I was glad she didn’t beat around the bush and prolong things. Just get it over and tell us.
While the adults talked, I thought about what I would have liked for his name to be. I thought he should be called River. Why River? No reason, it just sounded cool.
They said something about fertility and a specialist, and I lost track of what they were saying. So, I daydreamed—random thoughts that made sense to a ten-year-old. Like if mom visited a fertility doctor, would he or she give her fertilizer to make her more likely to get pregnant? Or, would she get pregnant, and then the fertilizer would make the baby grow? I was silly. I didn’t exactly know what a fertility doctor did, but I knew it didn’t involve fertilizer. I was just trying to be funny with myself to lighten the mood a little, at least for me.
After they talked for a few more minutes, we drove home. We were all so sad and didn’t speak. Mom kept dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Dad looked like, well, Dad. He never showed much emotion. I spotted a few tears in the doctor’s office, and that constituted a significant cry for him.
When we got home, mom went up to her room. Dad explained to me what happened. I guess he figured I didn’t understand because I hadn’t cried or shown much emotion. I knew what happened but was more worried about them. I had never seen them like this before and wasn’t sure how to act.
Dad made sure I was okay about everything, and then he headed to his room. I laid down in my bed and thought some more about River. I cried and prayed. I asked God to help Mom and Dad feel better and be able to have another child. I fell asleep and dreamed about River. He was a Pillsbury dough-boy. Chunky, fat rolls on the legs, ebony skin, brown curly hair, and mahogany eyes. I was going to miss that guy.

Order Now!

<< Go Back