Take Four (31 page)

“Yes.” She wiped at her tears, her smile stretched across her face. “He’ll have that from me.”

The nurse wrapped a white and blue blanket around the baby and carried him over. “He’s tall. Seven pounds, eight ounces and twenty-two inches.” She handed him carefully to Andi. “I’d say he looks like his mama.”

Andi couldn’t stop the tears, but she couldn’t stop smiling either. She took her newborn son into her arms and cradled him close to her chest. The feeling was warm and full, and in that moment it completed her. She stared into his deep blue eyes, his full lips and beautiful face. “Hi, little boy,” she whispered to him, using her shoulder to catch her tears before they could fall on him.

Only then did she realize her parents were both crying too. They leaned close, looking at him, in awe of him. “He’s perfect, Andi. He looks just like…” a sob made it too hard for her to finish.

Her dad cleared his throat. “He looks like you did…when you were born.”

“You had the same satiny dark hair.” Her mom reached out and touched the baby’s head. “It didn’t turn blonde until you were six months old.”

Andi leaned down and kissed the baby’s head. “Did you hear what your grandma said?” She breathed the words softly against his face. “You’re perfect, little one. So perfect.”

Her dad took a few pictures, nothing too invasive. Just a shot of her cradling the infant in her arms and one of her kissing his cheek. He took another from a different angle, so that the baby’s face took up the entire picture. The minutes were slipping by, and Andi wanted her mom to have a turn to hold him, so she lifted
him gently and passed him over. Only then, as she released him, did she get the first hint of the pain that was to come. He was her baby, her son. Her blood and the blood of her parents ran through him. Suddenly it seemed like the craziest idea, giving him up, and she wondered if she’d regret this decision all her life.

As her thoughts turned on her, she felt a surge of panic, a rush of terrifying adrenaline speeding through her body. What if she was making a mistake? She watched her mother cradle her little boy, watched her nuzzle her cheek against his and then, when she clearly couldn’t take another moment, she handed the baby to Andi’s dad.

He was more stoic than her mom, but as he held the baby close the connection between them was undeniable. He also didn’t take too long for his turn. The unspoken phenomenon happening around them was obvious to Andi: no one wanted to fall in love with a baby they had to let go of minutes from now.

The baby made an attempt at a cry, but then grew calm again.

Andi was hit hard by a truth she hadn’t expected, which was that she already knew his voice. Like an indelible stamp on her heart, his sound and tone had already made its mark and she was sure as long as she lived—if she were a hundred years old and this precious boy was eighty—she would know his voice.

More tears flooded her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t give in to the emotion of the moment. Instead she received her baby back from her father and held him straight out in front of her. His feet kicked at her stomach, and there was a familiarity to it. An hour ago he had kicked her stomach from the other side. She smiled at him, studying him, willing herself to remember every detail, the way his eyes met hers, the peach fuzz on his soft cheeks, and his sweet, newborn smell.

She held out her finger and touched it to the palm of his tiny hand. Immediately he gripped her finger, and the connection ran all the way to the center of her being. “Sweet baby…” She
lifted him close and kissed his cheek again, and in that instant she could feel it, feel the strength of the bond forming between them. She understood now why some moms pass on this experience. No question, the time with her son would make their impending goodbye more difficult. unbearable, almost.

But as she held him, as she ran her hand over his dark hair, the panic from earlier faded. She loved this baby, and she always would. But it was a love she would best show by letting him go. She wasn’t ready to be a mother, not at all. Luke and Reagan Baxter were. Andi smiled at him.
Don’t hate me when you’re older, little one. I’m doing the best I can do. It’s the right thing.
She would always remember him. But he didn’t belong to her. This was a baby she’d almost aborted, and she pictured the faces of the Kunzmann family and Clarence—the mysterious man who had steered her away from having an abortion that long ago morning.

God’s plans for this baby involved her giving him life and the Baxters giving him a family. She felt the time pressing in around her, felt the clock screaming at her that she’d held her baby long enough. He needed to meet his mommy and daddy, his brother and sister and the rest of his new family.

“Okay, little boy, I have to let you go.” Her tears came harder than before, but her voice held no crying. Instead it was clear and calm and she kept her smile. Because if it were possible for a newborn to remember, she wanted him to remember her smiling. She brought him close one last time and pressed her cheek against his. Her precious firstborn son.

“Mom…Dad,” she looked at them. “Come closer. Let’s pray for him.”

Her mom was quietly crying, and her dad was still strong. “You want me to pray, honey?”

“That’s okay.” She looked at her son again. “I’ll do it.” She sniffed and again wiped her cheeks with the part of her gown that covered her shoulder. “Heavenly Father, you are a miracle
worker. You brought this precious little boy into this world and now…now the plans you have for him will begin. Good plans, to give him a hope and a future and not…to harm him.”

She didn’t take her eyes off him as she prayed, her voice gentle and soothing. “I ask that you be with this boy and raise him up to serve you. I pray that his life will be a bright light to the world around him, and that he will lead people to You.” She steadied herself, keeping her deep sadness far below the surface. “Be with his new parents, his new family, and when he thinks about me…help him know the only reason I gave him up was because I loved him too much to keep him. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Her mom turned to her dad and the two of them hugged, giving her a final moment to say goodbye. She leaned close to him one last time and pressed her cheek to his. Then, in a whisper so faint only the two of them could hear it, she said simply, “I’ll never forget you.”

She kissed him again and then handed him to her father. As he left, as the weight of his body moved from her arms to his, she could feel the fibers of her heart being ripped apart. “Go, Dad…it’s okay.” She turned so she could see her parents. “Please, go.”

The last thing she saw of her son as her parents took him from the room was his small hand, reaching up from the soft blanket, his fingers outstretched. She and her parents were moving on, and God would have much in the months and years ahead that would help fill the hole gaping inside her at this moment. But this was not an open adoption. Her son would not share his time between his adoptive family and her. Yes, she would be there to meet him someday, if he were to choose that. But he might not. And so for all Andi knew, this was goodbye.

Her sobs came then, seizing her, suffocating her. She covered her face with her hands and relived everything about the last ten minutes: the way he felt in her arms, the look in his eyes, the sound of his cry. Time would heal this, and even as she gave way
to her grief, Andi was convinced this was the right decision. She hoped she would never again doubt that. Her baby would have the best life ever, she was convinced.

But here and now the pain in her heart was too great to ignore. God’s Word said it best, and in her crying she could hear her father reading from Ecclesiastes to the people in Indonesia.
There was a time to laugh and a time to dance. But there was also a time to weep and a time to mourn.
And that was okay.

This was one of those times.

I
T WAS THE LONGEST WALK IN KEITH’S LIFE
. The longest and the shortest, all at the same time if that were possible. The hundred steps from Andi’s bedside to the room where the Baxters were waiting was all the time he would ever have with this grandson. So he walked slowly, cooing at the baby and savoring each second. But, even still, the walk was over in what felt like a few heartbeats.

A nurse led the way and when she reached the waiting room, before he opened the door, he hesitated. “Can we have a minute, my wife and I with the baby?”

The nurse smiled and nodded. “Of course. When you’re ready, the adoptive family is just inside.”

He nodded, and when she was gone down the hallway, he smiled at the little boy in his arms. Lisa came up beside him and put her arm around his waist. She leaned in and kissed the baby’s forehead. “He looks so much like Andi.”

“He does.” Keith thought about everything he’d like to tell this child, all the advice he’d give him and the stories about Jesus he’d share with him if he’d had the time. Even as he thought about all he would miss, he felt God giving him the perfect words. “I would love to be your grandpa, little guy. I would love everything about it.” For the first time, tears blurred his eyes. “But guess what? Your grandpa is going to be John Baxter. He’s a pro, sweet
baby. The best grandpa ever. Everything I would ever tell you, everything we’d ever do together…you’ll do with him. That’s why I can let you go.”

He winked at the baby. “See you up in heaven some day, all right?”

With that, before he lost the strength to do so, he opened the door. A quiet round of gasps and light cries came from several of the adult Baxters, and Luke and Reagan stood to meet them.

Keith looked at the love and support that filled the room. This baby would be loved all the days of his life. He would have the greatest support system, the best family Keith had ever had the privilege of knowing. If he could’ve hand-picked a family to raise this precious grandchild, these would be the people.

The Baxter family.

He turned to Luke and Reagan. “He’s beautiful. Seven pounds, eight ounces. Twenty-two inches long.” He smiled through his tears. “He looks just like Andi did.”

Reagan didn’t rush to take the baby. Rather she let her eyes hold Keith’s and then Lisa’s for a long time. “We can’t imagine how hard this is for you and Andi.”

Keith nodded and exchanged a look with his wife. “Very hard.” He turned to Luke and Reagan again. “But also very right.” With that he passed the baby over to Reagan, and Luke put his arm protectively around both of them.

“Thank you.” Luke looked back up at Keith. “We’ve named him Jonathan. It means ‘gift of God.’ ” He looked at his father, John Baxter, who was with his wife in the corner of the room. “And it represents the greatest man I know.” The two shared a meaningful look, but it was broken up by Tommy racing across the room to his mother’s side.

“The name’s Jonathan, but we’re calling him John-John.” Tommy was six years old and always full of energy. “Can I see
him, Mommy, please? Please can I see him? I have a lot to tell him.”

Nearby, Malin—Reagan and Luke’s daughter—was in her Aunt Ashley’s arms, sucking her fingers and looking a little over-whelmed. Reagan held her finger to her lips and smiled. “Shhh.” Then she bent low enough for Tommy to see him. “He’s very new. You can talk to him a little later.”

“Wow!” The boy breathed in deep and tried to whistle. “He’s the smallest brother I ever saw. Smaller than a football, I think.”

Around the room the other Baxter aunts and uncles giggled, and from around the circle came comments about how perfect he looked, how small. Keith took it all in. They were anxious for the chance to love him, to welcome him into their family, and now it was time he and Lisa gave them their space.

“He’s hungry.” Keith grinned at Reagan. “The nurse said you have a special formula.”

“Yes.” She nodded, and tears filled her eyes. “It’s all made up.”

Dayne and Katy were there—Dayne being the oldest Baxter sibling. For a few minutes, the two of them talked to Keith and Lisa about their plans to leave Bloomington for Los Angeles. They all agreed they’d keep in touch, and of course Dayne and Keith would continue to work together in post-production for
Unlocked
, and on whatever movie God brought to them next. There would be updates about John-John as often as Keith wanted to hear them. But most likely he wouldn’t ask.

“Do me a favor,” he put his arm tight around Lisa’s shoulders and fought to keep his composure as he looked at Luke and Reagan once more. “Let him know how much we love him. How much Andi loves him.”

The young couple nodded, and Luke took the baby tenderly from his wife’s arms. With the infant close against his chest he swallowed hard. “You have our word.”

Keith nodded and looked once more at the little boy, his
grandson. Then he and Lisa waved at the others and left the room. Out in the hallway, he understood fully what Andi must be feeling. The loss was so great it was hard to stand up beneath. But then he and Lisa and Andi were missionaries—all of them. Never mind the mistakes Andi had made, she was back on track and she wanted to change the world for Jesus.

And that came at a price. It came with pain and loss and moments when moving forward was only possible in Christ’s strength alone. Moments like this. But when they’d been led from one mission field to another, God had always provided. He’d done so with
The Last Letter
, with
Unlocked
, and even with Brandon Paul. Now he would do so again as He moved them to Los Angeles.

Along the way God had always allowed them their memories, and this would be no different. They would move on, but they would take with them memories of Indonesia, and of filming their two movies. Memories of Northern California and Bloomington, Indiana. And now another very special memory, one they would cherish for the rest of their lives.

The memory of their grandson, Jonathan Baxter.