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In this issue...

Front and Center

Determining
Whether to "Go
Medical": A Board
Assessment Survey


By Thomas A. Glessner

Fishers of Men

By Jim Pye

Remaining
Relevant in an Age
of Abortion-by-Pill


By Aimee Pendell

"Nevertheless,
Let Us Go"


By Patricia L. Miller

For Ten Thousand
Tomorrows


By Stephanie Rogers

For Such a Time
as This


By Lynne M. Thompson

Printing Made
Simple

Marketing 101

By Jerry Thacker

Good News,
Bad News—
Spiritual Warfare


By Mark Hiehle

For Ten Thousand Tomorrows

By Stephanie Rogers

I rolled over in the hospital bed, my cheeks wet with tears, and rang for one of the maternity ward nurses. • When a nurse answered, I sobbed into the intercom, "Please bring my baby. I want to see my baby right now." • "Calm down, Stephanie," the nurse responded. "I'll be right there." • As I waited for the nurse, I thought about the succession of events that had led to my spending the Fourth of July weekend in a hospital room, waiting for a lawyer to take my child to his adoptive parents.

It started at the beginning of my senior year of high school. I was heartbroken and easy prey for the smooth-talking cowboy I met at the rodeo a few weeks after Chad and I had broken up. He was much too old for me, and he admitted that he was married, but I was flattered by the attention he gave me at a time when I needed to hear someone say that I was special. With little difficulty he talked me into going to a motel room "for just a few hours, so no one will ever know."


That was the biggest mistake of my life. I had always treasured my virginity, knowing that I was saving myself for my future husband and that Chad, too, was waiting until marriage to enjoy the pleasure of sex with his lifelong spouse. I can't explain why I let a virtual stranger rob me of my virginity. At that moment I fell into sin, a sin I deeply regretted, but I had no way to undo its consequences.

Two months later I went to a public health clinic for a pregnancy test. I cried when the social worker told me I was pregnant. I knew that I couldn't abort the child who was growing within me, but I dreaded telling my parents. How could I disappoint them like this? Would they ever think as highly of me as they had before they found out I had sneaked around and had an affair, however brief, with a married man?

After the initial shock, my parents were amazingly supportive. My mother took me to her obstetrician who helped us find adoptive parents for the baby. Toward the end of the pregnancy, my mother and I met with their lawyer, but we never met the adoptive parents.

Thursday evening, July 3, I gave birth to a boy, whom I named Joseph after my father. On the morning of the Fourth, I called the couple's lawyer. He was at the shore, spending the weekend with his family. He said he would come to take Joseph to his new parents on Monday.

Now it was Sunday afternoon. I could walk down the hall to the nursery and look at Joseph through the window, but the nurses never brought him to my room for fear that I would become too attached to him and that it would become that much harder for me to place him for adoption. Until that day I had abided by the nurses' rule; in fact, I had agreed with it. But on that Sunday, I changed my mind. Joseph was my child. I had carried him in my womb for nine months, and I wanted to hold him in my arms and talk to him.

Libby, a nurse whom I liked a lot, came into the room and took my hand.

Two months later I
went to a public health
clinic for a pregnancy
test. I cried when
the social worker
told me I was pregnant.
I knew that I couldn't
abort the child
who was growing
within me, but I
dreaded telling
my parents. How
could I disappoint
them like this?

"What's the matter, Stephanie?" she asked.

"I want to hold Joseph in my arms," I sniffed, reaching for a tissue. "I want to kiss him and tell him I love him. I know his new mother will love him, too, but I want him to know that I loved him first.

"Steffi, you know that's not a good idea. It will only make giving Joseph to the lawyer tomorrow that much harder." Softly Libby stroked my hair.

I looked straight at Libby and said with steel in my voice, "Joseph is not going with the lawyer until I've held my baby and said good-bye to him."

Libby hesitated. "Okay, if it's that important to you, I'll see what I can do."

A few minutes later, she handed my son to me and said, "The head nurse says you've got fifteen minutes together."

"Thanks, Libby," I said as she left. I looked down into my son's face. He was wide awake, and he stared blankly up at me.

"Hello, darling," I cooed. "I'm your mother. Tomorrow you are going to your new mother and father who will love you and take care of you until you're all grown up, but I wanted you to know that I'm your birth mother, the one who gave you life. And I love you more than you could ever know. When you get older, Joseph, you can look for me if you want to, and I'll be very glad if you do, but that won't be for ten thousand tomorrows. So let's just visit for now and hope that someday we'll meet again."

So we visited for a little while, and all too soon Libby came to take him away. Bravely, I handed him back to her, but I hated to. He was so sweet and tiny. Surely I could take care of him for those ten thousand tomorrows. My mom had said that that was a possibility. Adoption had been my idea.


How could I give my baby away to strangers? I asked myself. What would I say if he came back after those ten thousand tomorrows and asked me why I'd done it? Could I say that I wanted a better life for him and for me, that I wanted to go to college and become a special education teacher and it would be very hard to do those things if I were a single mother, or that the adoptive home with the two parents and a three-year-old sister was so much more than I could offer him?

Most importantly, could I share with him my belief in divine Providence and that God in His goodness used my mistake to give life to a child for whom a family was waiting? In my heart of hearts, I truly believed that God had picked out this family for Joseph. I did not know them, but God did, and in His love we would always be united.

Someday, if Joseph asked, that's what I would tell him. I prayed that I would meet a wonderful man to be my husband when the time was right and that we would have children. Perhaps someday Joseph could meet them. Until I married, I would embrace secondary virginity, putting my mistake behind me, once again saving myself for my husband.

And, once again, I was at peace with my decision, and I prayed that both our lives would be full of God's blessing for ten thousand tomorrows and even beyond.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: The author is very involved in pro-life work in Pennsylvania where she lives with her husband and three sons.




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