Originally posted by Betty Jo Harter
Another chapter of our life was written on February 10, 2001. John Mark Harter was born 6 lbs. 13 oz. 19 inches long at 11:15 p.m.
I received a telephone call February 6, 2001 to please call a certain lady about the possibility of adopting a baby of an expectant unwed mother. I cannot even describe the emotions racing through my heart and mind. After being assured that there was no one else in the immediate family to raise the child, the inability of the mother, and an adoptive couple backing out at the last minute, I said I would agree to talk to the mother.
I traveled quite a distance to meet her and to find out what she truly wanted to do. Wanting to know if there had been any coercion, influence of money, etc. that led her in this direction. Did she just need financial, emotional support to keep and raise her baby?
I was not expecting to find such a beautiful, courageous mother, I loved her the minute I saw her and just wanted to mother her after hearing her story. I was so torn between the emotion of compassion for this expectant mother and the excitement of having a newborn!
She had planned to go to a maternity clinic there, which is the way the young ladies do here, or they have the baby at home. She had not been to a doctor and was not completely sure when she was due. I realized the baby was overdue about 10 days to 14 days. I suggested that she let me take her to a doctor to be checked, have an ultrasound and see what condition she was in. She said, she would prefer doing that but could not afford it. I told her we would just do it! And I started hunting for a doctor on a Saturday afternoon. We rode on a tricycle that will carry three or four people, rode through the heart of the Muslim market to seek out a doctor that had been recommended to me. After riding all across town and walking a long distance to the doctor’s office, we read the office hour’s sign on the door. The doctor was closed on Saturday. I tried to assure her that everything would be all right and I would find help. I asked the tricycle man to take us to the best hospital and I would find the doctor. I should have done that in the first place rather than exposing her to exhaustion and me to all the Muslims in town. Remembering the last thing I assured my family is that I would stay in the hotel and not venture out at all because of the danger. Since when have I ever made a decision based on sound reasoning anyway? Why start now! We arrived at the hospital and I found that the woman doctor was out in the field in the mountains and the only thing I could do was radio her. I did, and after hearing the story and the urgency of the moment she did not hesitate to come in.
When she arrived we unraveled how I was involved, and she ordered an ultrasound for the mother. Sure enough it showed that the baby was overdue and she had lost so much amniotic fluid that she had to be induced right then. Should the baby come in to distress they would have to do a C-section. She wanted me to see the ultrasound and it was obvious this baby was indeed a boy. The mother had never been hospitalized, and was so frightened. We were not allowed to go back to the hotel or she to her apartment to get anything. She did not want me to leave her and I could not. My heart was so entwined with this beautiful, frightened girl and the baby I would soon hold in my arms. She requested to the doctors that she didn’t want to see the baby at birth but for me to take it. We have adopted 13 children all with different circumstances, birthed 5 children all with different experiences in birth but yet now I would indeed experience loving a baby never held by its birth mom. What would I feel toward her, toward the baby? I was moving toward a different venture of adoption, in mothering, and I thought I had been through it all!
Our mother was hooked up to an inducement medicine and started labor. She had a cousin she was very close to that was also there and stayed with her most of the time while she was in labor. Only one person was allowed. She would call for the cousin and me and I would trade off. She was the only one in labor in the ward. As I said, most women couldn’t afford to go to the hospital. The hours dragged on after an already exhausting day for both of us emotionally, I could not leave her in spite of the urging of the doctors to get my rest and they would call me form the waiting room when she was to deliver. I stretched out on the floor on the other side of the door from where she was, and told the doctor to assure her I would not leave her and that there was someone who loves her and prayed for her.
At 10:30 the doctor appeared and told me to get suited up that it would not be long. As I walked in the delivery room her eyes followed me motioning for me to come hold her hand. As the baby began to appear in this world without any distress my heart started racing. It was just five days ago I learned of this baby and yet it seemed that I had been preparing for this time in my life for all my life. John Mark was born a beautiful, beautiful baby! Perfect in every way. As the doctor checked him out, I saw the birth mom trying to glance toward the bassinet just to get one look. Since she had already disclosed her wishes to the doctors I could not say anything. I wanted to run over get this beautiful baby, put him on her chest and say, “you can do it, I’ll help you.” But I did know the circumstances and knew there was not a possibility. I found myself as they wheeled the baby into the nursery to clean him up, staying by the mother side. I couldn’t leave her—she was so alone. Nothing to hold for all her pain and sadness, I cried, she cried, the doctors cried. I kissed her face all over telling her how much I loved her and how courageous and unselfish she was. They took her to her room and I went to the nursery to hold John Mark. As they placed this beautiful baby in my arms, my heart was surely one with his and I held him close, and sang to him. Thanked God for this wonderful gift.
The pediatrician suggested I get a room down the hall on the floor and after stabilizing him they would bring him to me. Another strange feeling to me in a room waiting for my baby to be brought to me and not having experienced the physical birth. I must admit with the events of the past couple of days, I felt as though I had been in labor!
Then at 3:30 a.m. they brought John Mark to me and we were alone! Do you ever forget how to mother a baby? No! It was immediate just as natural as ever.
After signing the waiver of custody the next morning, this beautiful courageous girl asked me if she could please see him just one time before I left to take him back to the hotel. Even though I was advised not to, I could not deny her this. I dressed John Mark and took him to her room and she held him and checked him over. My heart was crying for her. How she must have felt I could not imagine. She handed him to me, looked away, I kissed her forehead and told her I would tell him all about her one day.
I walked out of the hospital with my nine-hour-old son, thanking God for one more experience of his mercy and grace. Understanding the beautiful doctrine of adoption from another experience. Her arms were very empty. Mine very full!
John Mark
Not my flesh of my flesh,
Nor bone of my bone,
But nevertheless my very own!
Mama Harter
Picture of Jonh Mark Harter
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