When Joy Came to Stay (21 page)

She was suddenly desperate to finish the phone call. They had five months before they would see each other again, and in that time she had a million details to work out.

Most of all she had to find a way to let go of the only one she had loved these past months: her unborn child.

The memories faded, and Maggie was suddenly back in the doctor’s office, trying to make sense of the nightmare that was her life. Inhaling, she filled her lungs with a deep, cleansing breath. She had told Dr. Camas the truth and still her heart was beating. The darkness had not completely consumed her; if anything, she felt somewhat lighter than before.

“So you moved to Cincinnati…is that right?” Dr. Camas crossed his legs casually, and Maggie felt nothing but empathy from him.

She nodded and wrung her hands nervously together. Then she forced herself to go back to the small farming town of
Woodland, Ohio, fifteen minutes out of Cincinnati. Back to Nancy and Dan Taylor and a four-bedroom house full of love and laughter and everything Maggie had never felt growing up as an only child with a busy salesman for a father.

Maggie moved out just before her seventh month, when the right clothing was still able to hide her pregnancy. Not wanting to alienate her parents again, she told them she’d be staying with a Christian family and that she’d be back sometime that summer. Maybe for good.

Maggie’s parents were busy and, with John out of the picture, they trusted that what she said was true. They kept in touch by telephone once a week and never for a moment suspected that Maggie had gone away to give birth to a baby.

As the due date neared, Maggie began to have second thoughts.

The child inside her kicked and moved and had become so much a part of her she couldn’t bear the thought of giving her up. A doctor in Woodland had discovered by ultrasound that the baby was a girl and that everything else about Maggie’s pregnancy was proceeding normally.

Everything except the fact that upon birth, Maggie intended to give her daughter away.

She spent hours thinking about her own mother and how desperately she wished for a closer relationship with her. Sometimes whole days would pass while Maggie fantasized that she was keeping the baby and that she would certainly not be cold and militant as her mother had been. This daughter would be her heart’s mirror image. They would sing silly songs together and hold sleepovers on the living room floor, complete with popcorn and root beer; they would giggle late into the night. Maggie would shop with her little girl and pray with her, and together they would share the very secrets of their hearts.

Then reality would hit her, and she would remember the truth: Someone else was going to have the joy of this child. She had chosen Ben over the tiny baby within her, and her decision would stand. How could she or the baby have any real life otherwise?

Because Maggie knew no other way, she made plans with Cincinnati Social Services office to give the baby up for adoption immediately upon birth. She signed a stack of paperwork and felt as if she were tearing away pieces of her daughter’s heart with each stroke of the pen.

Once a social worker found Maggie going through the document that asked the birth mother’s opinion on the type of family she would like to have adopt her baby. Tears were streaming down Maggie’s face, and the concerned social worker put a hand on her shoulder. “Dear, are you sure this is the right decision for you?”

Maggie smiled through her tears. “Yes. I’m sure.” But inside she wondered how she could spend her life with a man like Ben Stovall if she couldn’t be honest with him. The mere thought of him—his strength and confidence, the presence he brought when he entered a room, the way he hungered after things of God—still made her heart soar, but what kind of man would demand absolute perfection of her? Worse, what kind of mother was she, willing to give her daughter away to strangers in an effort to appear perfect?

There were no answers, and tears flowed easily, especially in the final days before her due date. In some ways it was like the last part of a wonderful vacation with someone she could never see again, someone she’d come to love deeply.

Given the choice of dozens of home studies, families ready and waiting for the opportunity to adopt, Maggie chose a well-off couple in their late thirties with no other children and definite plans to stay in Woodland. Maggie thought them a perfect match and that Woodland—with all the conveniences of Cincinnati and all the charm of a small town—was the ideal
place for a little girl to grow up. Since the couple planned to adopt other children, Maggie’s daughter would be the oldest. A princess, of sorts.

Of course there was one other benefit of giving the baby to a couple who planned on staying in Woodland. If Maggie ever wanted to find her…
At least I’ll know where she is.
The fact was the only comforting thought as each day brought her closer to delivering.

It was almost time to say good-bye, and the prospect nearly broke Maggie’s heart.

Finally, three days after her due date, her water broke. Twelve hours later, just as the sun set on May 10, 1993, she gave birth to the most beautiful little girl she’d ever seen. The advice from Social Services was clear. Allow the baby to be taken by the nurses, sign the paperwork giving up rights to the child, and don’t look back.

Don’t ever look back.

Instead, Maggie watched every move the nurses made, allowing her eyes to follow her newborn daughter around the delivery room as a crew of people worked to clean her skin, check her heart rate, and cut her umbilical cord.
The first step toward taking her away from me forever.

For the next fifteen hours Maggie held her daughter to her bosom, ignoring all requests by nurses to set the baby down or make a trip to the restroom or have-a bite to eat. If this was all the time she would have with her daughter, she wasn’t wasting a moment of it. She cooed at the infant, whispering words of love and praying a blessing over her that would have to last a lifetime. When the baby stirred, blinked, and made eye contact with Maggie, she felt a rush of emotion unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

Is this what joy feels like, little one?

She nuzzled and whispered to her daughter, and sometimes for hours at a stretch she bathed her infant with tears of guilt and regret and self-hatred. How could she call herself a
Christian and give away her own precious daughter? What kind of person was she to choose Ben Stovall and his expectations of purity over the bundle of love and hope and joy in her arms?

Maggie had no answers.

Finally, at just after nine the next morning, a pretty young woman from Social Services came to take the baby away. Maggie refused to look up as the woman entered the room. She kept her eyes on her baby’s face, memorizing every feature, every detail in her cheeks and lips and chin because there would never be another chance.

“Mrs. Taylor?” The woman came closer and stood inches away at Maggie’s bedside. At first Maggie thought they must have the wrong patient, but then she remembered. She’d used Nancy and Dan’s last name so that no one could come back years later and find out that Maggie Johnson had given a baby away in Woodland.

The social worker put her hand gently on Maggie’s shoulder. “The nurses said you’re…having a hard time.”

Maggie stared deeply into her baby’s eyes and spoke without ever looking at the woman. “Please whisper…my daughter frightens easily.”

The woman was speechless for a moment. When it seemed the room might burst from tension, she pulled up a chair, sat down, and softly stroked Maggie’s arm. “Mrs. Taylor, if this isn’t the right decision for you, we need to talk about it.”

If only the woman had grabbed the baby and run! Then Maggie could blame someone else and not be forced to live with the fact that she alone was responsible for the decision. Maggie’s tears landed erratically on the infant’s face, and she gently lowered her head and kissed them off the silky, newborn cheek. “It’s okay, sweetheart, Mommy’s here.”

The social worker crossed her legs and seemed to be waiting. “Mrs. Taylor, should I tell them you’ve changed your mind?”

Images of Ben swept her mind. He was the only man she’d ever loved, ever dreamed of marrying. Surely God would bless them with other babies. But if she kept this child now, there would be no future with. Ben, no house full of babies raised in the loving light of godly parents. She would live her life as a single mother, and the baby would grow up most likely troubled and lonely. Probably repeating the very mistakes Maggie had made.

No, that was no life for the sweet angel in her arms, not when giving her away meant a secure future and two loving parents. Maggie snuggled the infant closer and squeezed her eyes shut. She had no choice.

The baby began to cry, and Maggie opened her eyes, turning to the social worker. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.” The words were so strained, so filled with desperation she barely recognized her own voice.

“Very well. I’ll take her when you’re ready. The adoption won’t be official until the baby’s adoptive parents complete the proper paperwork. But you should know, Mrs. Taylor: once you sign the papers, it’s only forty-eight hours until your rights are severed.”

Maggie nodded and her stomach began to tighten. Not the postpartum contractions the doctor had warned her about, but a terrible ache, like something inside her had slowly begun to die.
I can’t do this, little girl I’ll remember you forever…God, help me know what to do…

She nuzzled the baby close to her face and allowed herself to think the unthinkable. There would be no dresses bought for this tiny girl, no quiet moments to braid her hair or read her bedtime stories. Not for Maggie.
Maybe I’ll die from the pain…then I won’t have to spend a lifetime wondering.
She knew with utter certainty that the bond she felt in that moment would stay with her until the day she died. Giving her daughter up now felt almost as if she were about to drop the child off the edge of a cliff—it went against all the surprising maternal
urges that had welled up in her over the past seven months.

Help me, God. There must be another way…
But there simply were no other choices; not if she wanted to give them both a better life.

Maggie whispered into the infant’s ear. “No matter where you go, little one…whatever you do…I will always be your mommy. And I will always—”

Her body was suddenly racked with a landslide of sobs so great she could only clutch the child in grief-stricken desperation and speak softly over and over, “I love you, honey…I’ll always love you.”

When it was more than she could bear, when she knew that if she waited one more minute she would change her mind and forget Ben Stovall entirely, she gave the baby a final kiss and handed her over to the social worker.

The woman—who had watched the scene quietly—had tears in her eyes as she took the infant. For a moment she held the baby and said nothing, only stared sadly at Maggie. When finally she could bring herself to speak, she said, “It’s the right thing, Mrs. Taylor. I’ve met the couple…your daughter will have a wonderful life.”

Maggie nodded, consumed by a feeling of longing for her baby, a feeling that was wild and desperate.
What could be more wonderful than being raised by your own mother?
How could the baby have a good life knowing that Maggie had given her away, hadn’t wanted her?

She averted her gaze so that she wouldn’t be tempted to let her eyes fall on the blanketed bundle in the social worker’s arms.
She belongs to someone else now. Let her go. Let her go. Let her go.

“I’ll have someone bring in the paperwork.” The social worker stood, and she and the baby left the room.

It was the last time Maggie had ever seen her daughter.

Dr. Camas shifted positions. “And you never told your husband about the child?”

Maggie shook her head. “How could I? He thought I was a virgin. Once I got back home, Ben and I started seeing each other right away. He asked me if I’d dated anyone, and I told him there’d been nothing serious. He assumed…well, that things hadn’t changed.”

“And physically he never doubted you?” Dr. Camas’s voice held no accusation, only a desire to understand.

“Ben was a virgin. If there would have been a sign or something that might have told him I hadn’t been sexually pure, he wouldn’t have known it.” She thought for a moment. “If he’d doubted me, I’m sure he would have said something.”

Dr. Camas leaned back in his chair and looked at Maggie for a long moment. “So then, you’ve kept this a secret for eight years?”

Tears stung at Maggie’s eyes, and the cloak of darkness was as heavy and threatening as if it had never lifted. “Yes.”

Christ is light, and in Him is no darkness…

The Scripture came from nowhere and for several seconds the darkness eased.
Come back, God! Don’t leave me now.

Christ is light, and in Him—

“How do you feel about that?”

The holy whispers faded. Caught off guard, Maggie blinked and tried to remember what the conversation had been. “About what?”