We Can Do Hard Things

When we said goodbye to Ava Rose on April 20, we discussed with her mom the possibility of keeping in touch. We didn’t know what this might look like but Alyssa told us she was very open to our having some kind of ongoing contact.

We haven’t been completely sure we want this. As we told friends soon after saying goodbye, the thought of never seeing her again was excruciating, but so was the thought of ever seeing her again. And we weren’t sure what would be the best thing for Isaac. He loved being a big brother, and we know this has been difficult and confusing for him. Would it be better to just move on and let her live in his memory as a baby who lived with us for a while? Or should we give him, and ourselves, the chance to watch her grow up and still think of her in some way as Isaac’s little sister?

As we’ve thought and prayed about it, I’ve had a strong desire to continue to be involved in this little girl’s life, and also in her mother’s life. I can imagine that Alyssa, a young single mom, will have a need for someone to talk to, a friend to listen to her, give advice, pray for her and with her. I’ve wondered if I can be that person for her.

I still believe that God’s intent was for Ava Rose to be in Mark’s, Isaac’s and my family, that the best thing was for her biological father to understand the situation for what it was and make the best decision. God gave him the freedom to make that decision, knowing he might not do the right thing (just like He gave him the freedom to have an affair to begin with).

I believe this man’s choice prevented God’s original intent from being carried out. But, God is not caught off guard, nor has he abandoned any of us. And so I believe that now God’s intent is for Alyssa to raise her little girl, and to be the best mom possible to her. And I keep thinking that if there’s any way I can help Alyssa be the best mom possible to the little girl I loved as my own for those many months, then I want to do it.

So. That’s what I had been thinking in the weeks since saying goodbye. A few weeks ago we planned a trip to Chicago to visit Mark’s sister, and decided we’d stop in NW Ohio on the way home to visit Alyssa and Logan. I talked with Alyssa on Mother’s Day and told her we would like to do this, if it was OK with her. She was very open to it.

We never firmed up any plans, and then in the last several days, I decided I really didn’t want to go through with the visit. It was too painful, and as well-intentioned as Alyssa was to tell us she was open to ongoing contact, I had a hard time imagining what that might look like, and wasn’t convinced it’s what she really wanted.

While it’s true Alyssa had hoped we could raise her little girl, did she really want us to continue to be around as motherhood gets harder (and it will), and our involvement in her life reminds her that she could have been released from that? And on our end, we would have to watch Logan grow up but without our influence—watching her mom make different decisions than we would have made for her, watching her deal with the complexities of her family’s brokenness, and having to let her go again and again.

I didn’t share all of these thoughts and feelings with Mark, but I did tell him I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through with the visit. Several times I asked if he still wanted to do it. He kept saying he did. But I continued to put off calling Alyssa to make arrangements, until finally she texted me Saturday asking if we were still planning to come the next day. I took a deep breath, talked with Mark, talked with Isaac, and called Alyssa to make plans.

It was a nice visit. We met at Alyssa’s house, where she lives with her parents and three siblings (two sisters and a brother, all in their late teens and early twenties). Logan was lying on the floor in the living room when we arrived, and when she saw us she smiled and laughed. We all held her and fed her a bottle. We took a few pictures. Isaac charmed everyone with his questions and smiles. It was a nice visit.

It was also really hard. I cried a lot on Saturday after talking to Alyssa. I cried for much of the three and a half hours from Mark’s sister’s house to Logan’s new home. I cried through most of the actual visit. (Every time I thought I had it together, I would look at Logan and her face would light up with one of her radiant smiles and the tears would come again.) I cried for a good part of the way back to Cleveland. I continue to cry as I write all of this.

It is really, really hard. But—

Behind or beneath or in the middle of all the pain, God is doing something good and important. He is saying to me: I called you to love Alyssa and Ava Rose by attempting to go through with the adoption, even though it was risky. Now I am inviting you to love Alyssa and Logan by continuing to be involved in their lives. This path will be hard for them, but I will be with them, and I’m inviting you to walk with them also. Your presence in their lives will encourage Alyssa on the hard path of motherhood, and will bring good things to Logan’s life as she grows up. There is pain now, but I will bring joy to all of you as you continue to love me and love each other.

It’s hard. But we can do hard things.

I still don’t know what an ongoing relationship will look like. But before we left I gave Alyssa a hug and told her, “You’re going to be a great mom. And I know you have a lot of support from your family, but if you ever need someone to talk to, or need advice or whatever, please call me.”

Then her parents walked us out to the car, and they said it was great we could stop by. We told them we were glad we had done it.  I also told them that if Alyssa ever felt like it was just too painful to continue ongoing contact, we would really understand, and please just let us know. Her mom said that no, Alyssa really was hoping she could find some way for us to be involved in Logan’s life. She said Alyssa had even researched the concept of godparents, and had considered asking us to be in that role for Logan. This was encouraging to me, since in the last few weeks I’ve also thought about the title “godparents”, and thought that seemed appropriate. We’ll still have to work out what that looks like, but it seems good to us.

As we drove away, in spite of the pain and the tears, that was the feeling I had: This seems good to me. It feels right that we should be a part of Logan’s life. It feels good that I should offer Alyssa the encouragement and friendship of a fellow mother.

Like I said, I don’t know what this will look like. We’ll take it one day at a time and see what happens.

I’m encouraged by the following passage, the one of which Jesus said, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” Jesus is binding up our broken hearts, comforting us in our grief, and will replace our mourning with joy.

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
    to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
    to proclaim freedom for the captives
    and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor
    and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord
    for the display of his splendor.