After that, I had nowhere else to call. I couldn’t ask my parents to help find him.
Suddenly, the baby and I were all alone against my parents.
How could he leave?
I began searching for a job and a cheap room.
I called about a room above a laundromat. The woman sounded kind until I mentioned the baby.
I crossed it off and worked out what the next listing would cost. My savings wouldn’t cover the deposit and the first month’s rent.
“That won’t cover a roof and diapers,” my father said, glancing at my figures.
I began searching for a job.
I turned the paper over and kept calculating.
I needed to find a way to make this work.
***
Then my parents changed.
Mom came to an appointment and held my hand during the scan. Dad stopped interrupting whenever I mentioned the baby.
My parents changed.
One night, they sat me at the kitchen table.
“We’ll figure this out,” Mom said. “You won’t have to do it alone.”
“We’ll help you,” Dad added.
“You mean I can bring him home?”
Mom nodded.
“We’ll help you.”
I cried before I could ask anything else.
I had spent weeks counting money that wasn’t enough. Now, somebody was saying we could manage.
***
I found part-time work at a bakery.
Mom cleared a drawer for the baby’s clothes.
I cried.
Dad asked whether we needed a crib.
At night, I taught myself to crochet from a library book.
The first bootie came out crooked. I undid it and tried again.
When Mom helped fold a tiny shirt, I moved aside to make room for her.
I wanted this new version of us to last so badly that I never questioned it.
I taught myself to crochet.
I chose the name. Fabian.
At night, I whispered it to my belly.
“Fabian. Hi, Fabian.”
I no longer thought about Daniel. He’d clearly changed his mind and abandoned us both.
***
Fabian was born a few weeks after I finally finished a passable pair of booties.
He’d abandoned us both.
He was warm and furious and perfect.
When the nurse placed him against me, I forgot to be frightened. I loved him so much!
Before the nurse took him for his checkup, I undid the clasp on my grandmother’s silver cross.
I tucked it into his blanket.
“So you’ll always have something from me,” I whispered.
I loved him so much!
It was a routine checkup.
I settled back against the pillow and listened for the wheels of his bassinet returning.
Instead, my parents came in with a folder.
“What’s that?”
“Adoption papers,” Dad said.
My parents came in with a folder.
“What?” I laughed because it made no sense. “You promised to help me.”
“This is the help,” Mom said.
I stared at them.
“You… you never really changed your minds, did you? It was a trick.” I bit my lip as tears sprang to my eyes. “I’m not signing anything.”
“It was a trick.”
Dad placed the folder on my lap.
“Sign them or don’t come home.”
I looked at Mom. “You cleared his drawer. We folded his clothes together.”
“You need to think about your future.” She pointed at the papers. “Sign them.”
“I did. That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“Sign them.”
I clenched my fingers around the hospital bed sheet.
My heart was breaking, but for one stupid moment, I glanced at the door, hoping Daniel would return to save us.
But he was long gone.
“Give me a month,” I said. “I’ll work. I’ll pay you something.”
My heart was breaking.
