 |
| Angela called her grandparents at my sister's and in all of my thirty-nine years I never would have believed how my parents handled this news. My mother's response was, "Your grandfather and I love you, and we will do whatever it takes to help." Our parish priest was summoned next and he properly explained adoption options, thinking I'm sure that this was a sixteen year old, and also encouraged us with stories about how in many world cultures children are celebrated whenever they come. This way of thinking was difficult for some of our family members to embrace, but if you think about it, the act of sex doesn't always produce a child. If you believe that God is the author of life, then when a conception does occur, it must be because God has a purpose for that life. It was our responsibility to protect and value this new creation. The first task was to call the doctor and begin the prenatal care. The doctors we saw came with the highest regard from both professionals and patients and they can never be thanked enough for their love and support to us during the next six months. Upon arrival to the doctor's, the open arms of the head physician of the practice met Angela. He said, "Well, congratulations Angela. You're having a baby!" I was shocked by his comment. He was the first man I heard say something positive, and he was a stranger. Not knowing at the time that this doctor had adopted his children, we sat and conversed for a long time about Angela's options. Then it was time for the examination. We had our first glimpse of the new baby. The ten and one half week old fetus had its first photo taken. In the physician's crafty development, I saw the words, "HI GRANDMA!" ~ As I stood over my daughter and witnessed this wonderful moment, I felt both the epitome of fear and elation in one instant. My little girl, my baby, lay draped on a padded table in a cold room, her belly bare, being rolled with cold jelly for the ultrasound, I looked at every detail of her face and held tightly to her hand. I remembered that when she was about six my father gave her a poster of a little tiger cat that said, "Love me, love my freckles." You couldn't help falling in love with every one of those dots on her face or her crystal blue eyes. As a little girl, the freckles and the eyes had won the hearts of many. Now here she lay at 85 pounds, and I wondered if her small body could sustain another's life for the next six months. Over the next months the doctor visits were routine. Shawn came to every one that he could between his college classes and work schedule, and he made it his responsibility to pay for the doctor's entire bill. Angela was enrolled in eleventh grade and was handling her classes very well. Her high school was so supportive and made special arrangements any time Angela needed assistance. Things were unfolding month-by-month, summer to fall. I felt that Angela was on track with the situation though at home the stress mounted. Floyd said nothing more to Angela then, "Where's your mother?" for the next six months. I tried to explain to Angela that people had to process change in their own time, in their own way, and I asked her to be patient. I was sure her stepfather would come around. He was always finding the silver lining for us especially when Angela and I were arguing. But, sadly, as each day passed, there were fewer and fewer signs that he was going to deal well with our circumstance. |
|