Courageous Faith Part Two–Daylight Dawns

(August 1, 1992)

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose”.  - Romans 8:28

Again, it was right around midnight. The pains had been coming all day, but by this time they were stronger, and much closer together. I had no idea what I was going to do… You see, I had finally come to terms with my pregnancy about 4 months in. Before that I was in total denial. The first 2-3 months, I had had some spotting which I mistakenly supposed to be my cycle. I breathed a sigh of relief. Until the spotting stopped. Month four there was nothing, and my belly was beginning to poke out. I kept telling myself, “No. This cannot be happening. God wouldn’t let this happen to me”. A month or so later, I began to feel the child inside me move. At this point there was no denying it, anymore. I was pregnant, and I had NO IDEA who the father was.

I had a serious boyfriend in high school, and dated a few guys in my first year or so of college, but I had never given myself to anyone. I’m not saying I was perfect. I was what you might call, “very affectionate”. But I never gave myself to anyone because for me, it was VERY IMPORTANT to save that gift for my husband. So there was no question in my mind about when I had become pregnant… but I had no clue as to how to tell my parents, or anyone else for that matter.

The only person I had even shared my nightmare with was my sister Betsy, who is not quite two years younger than me. I went to her, to share in confidence. I made her swear not to tell a soul. She kept my secret. Until she could no longer.

As the time drew closer I began to soak my pillow with tears at night. Praying to God. Asking Him, again, to help me. My constant prayer was, “God you have to take this. You have to make this okay. I can’t handle it. I don’t even want to try. It’s yours. Your will be done.”

Even if I had known sooner, I can honestly say that the thought of having an abortion made me cringe. I believed (at that time) that it was a totally legitimate way to handle this type of thing, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t punish an innocent life… not for something someone else did. It wasn’t my fault. But it wasn’t the baby’s fault, either. I had to believe that God had a plan.

I believe with all my heart that one of the reasons God allowed me to carry this baby, was to save my life. I honestly don’t know if I would be here, otherwise. There were times that I wished I could find a way out of my pain. A way to end it once and for all, but I would never do any harm to myself… because I could never harm my baby.

I began to talk to the child at night. Rub my belly and say, “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. You are going to be okay.”

So that night, as the labor pains grew stronger and nearer, I knew that I could keep my secret no longer. My baby sister, Karen (then 11 years old) was “camping out” with me in her sleeping bag, in the floor beside my bed. When she heard me crying, she went downstairs and got Mama. When my mother reached my bed, she saw me clinching my waist and writhing in pain. She reached down to touch me, and as soon as she did, she said, “Oh, my God! Susanne, do you have something to tell me?”

To this day, I literally have no idea exactly what I said to her. I remember telling her the gist of things, and hearing her say she had to go get Daddy. I begged her not to.

My Dad had been through a rough year with his job. Very successful, but very busy, and very stressful. He had been promoted to Regional Manager of his company and been traveling a lot. All I could think about was that he would have a stroke or a heart-attack and be checking in the hospital right along with me.

When Dad heard what Mom said, he looked straight into my eyes and said, “Who?” I told him, “Daddy. I don’t know. It happened last fall. That weekend I was away visiting (my friend).”

We raced to the hospital. When we got there and the doctors checked me out, it was discovered that I was very sick. My blood-pressure was through the roof, and I had taken on way too much fluid. I was toxic.

Mom told the doctor all she knew, and he came and stood beside me saying, “I am going to take care of you. We are going to get you through this”.

After some medicine for pain and to help regulate my blood pressure, I began to sleep a little. My Dad came to my side again, and said… “Honey. I know you have been through a lot. And I don’t even really know where to start. But I need you to know that we are here now. I am here. And I will do whatever you need me to do. And if you want to take this baby home, all you have to do is say the word, and it’s done.” I said, “No, Daddy. I can’t. I have to do what is right for the child. He or she deserves a mother AND a father. I cannot give this child a Daddy… or even a healthy and whole Mama, at this point. I know what I have to do. We have to find him/her a family.”

He nodded. Tears in his eyes. And that was the end of it.

After my son was born, they whisked him away. The doctors didn’t want me upset. My blood-pressure was still dangerously high.

I was moved from the delivery room to the floor for at-risk pregnancies. I had to stay in the hospital for three days to recover.

In the mean time, a wonderful representative from Bethany Christian Services visited me. We literally picked this agency out of a phone book, and within an hour of calling them, the woman I would later refer to as “My Guardian Angel” was at the door of my hospital room. After telling her my story (the first time my parents had actually heard it in any detail), she took my hand. Her eyes filled with tears, she said, “Susanne. We have a family that has been praying for a child with special circumstances. They came to us last October. I believe they are the family that God has prepared to raise your baby”.

I believed it, too.

A week later, I did the hardest thing I have ever done. I signed the papers to release my son to this family’s care. Although it broke my heart to give him up, I have never regretted it, not even one day, since.

Jesus this is SO HARD. But I know you have a plan. And I know you will work this out according to your purpose. Please help me trust you, and move forward. I need you to heal me, and restore me. Please be with my baby and his new family… Give them everything they need to raise him according to your word, and your will for his life. Help us both to walk into the future and the good that you have promised us.