Copyright 2002 Catholic Exchange
Holding her in the hospital nursery for the first time, filled with love and overcome with emotion, I met the virtue called “courage”. Courage had a name, and her name was Jamie. She was lying in a hospital bed down the hall, and she was barely 16 years old.
Jamie became pregnant when she was fifteen, dating a local “bad boy” who convinced her that they’d love each other even more if they had sex. It was a lie, they broke up, but she was pregnant. For Jamie and her family, abortion was never an option. She would not kill her baby. But the pressure was enormous. Her ex-boyfriend demanded she get an abortion, supported by his mother. He threatened her and even denied paternity. Friends encouraged her to “end” the pregnancy. But Jamie stayed the course and refused to surrender.
As the months passed, Jamie made the most difficult, courageous decision that any woman can make. Recognizing that she wasn’t ready or able to be the mother her baby deserved, she decided to give her baby for adoption. She wanted this baby more than anything else in her life. But more than wanting her baby, she wanted FOR her baby. Jamie wanted her baby to have a mom and dad who loved her, an intact family that wanted and could take care of her. She wanted to give her baby a better life than she was able. Sharon and I would become Jamie’s gift to her baby.
Jamie gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, and entrusted her to our care. Fighting every maternal instinct, Jamie stood by her decision not to hold Hannah. She feared she might relent her decision in a moment of weakness if she held her. On the day Jamie went home, she wanted to see Hannah, not hold her, but see her. I went to the nursery, picked Hannah up, and looked into Jamie’s face while Jamie beheld her baby for the first time through that nursery window. Tears of unbridled joy mingled together with heart-breaking agony, streamed down her cheeks. Happiness and sadness, side by side, washed across her face. Her sobs were both euphoric and wrenching. I was staring into the face of Courage, disguised as a sweet little girl who could, herself, be my daughter. Courage, I witnessed, is about doing what is right in spite of the cost to self, and is a mark of character, commitment and selfless love.
Hannah just had her first birthday. She is a beautiful red-haired, walking, almost talking bundle of energy, a sign to us and the world of the goodness and graciousness of our God. We recently asked Jamie if she would like to meet Hannah before Hannah got much older. “Only if you’re sure it won’t confuse or upset her,” was Jamie’s reply, “ I just want her to be happy.” I look forward to that meeting, because courage still has a name, and her name is Jamie.
