called,” I say, feeling guilty.
“It’s okay, I’ve been busy too. Hey, I got a full-time position at the law firm.” she says, excitedly.
“That’s great! Now you can get serious about finally going to law school.”
“That’s my plan,” she adds. I pause before saying goodbye, hoping that I can find the nerve to tell her about the baby.
IT’S BEEN A month since meeting with the adoption service and Nichole calls regularly to see how I’m doing and if I need anything. She’s always bright, cheerful, and friendly. It’s almost nauseating. I really think she’s just making sure I haven’t change my mind. Two months later Nichole calls to tell me there are several couples that have expressed interest in meeting me. She says she would like for me to come in and look at their profiles so I could pick which couples I’d like to meet and interview. When I hang up I have a sick feeling again as I keep replaying those words in my head. Interview. Interview. I start to question myself. Am I seriously going to “interview” a couple to take my baby? To raise it and love it like it’s their own? How can they love something that Sam and I made? How am I going to get past this and move on knowing my child is out there and another woman is answering to mommy! I wail as I fall onto my bed and clutch the pillow to my chest. I sob and yell into my empty room. “I need you, Mom! I need you to put your arms around me and tell me it’s okay. Please God, help me. Tell me I’m making the right decision. Just make this pain in my heart go away!” I sit up and throw my pillows across the room; I feel so much anger and heartbreak at this very moment. “I hate you, Sam!” I scream. “I hate that you’re not here and I’m left to deal with this alone. How could you do this to me, Sam?” I lie on the floor and cry. I cry until I have no more tears left.
I stand in the shower and slowly rub my hands over my belly, it feels fuller, swollen. And after I finish I stand in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom. I turn to the side and my heart jumps. I can actually see that there’s a bump, a baby bump. I stare as I lightly brush my fingers over my small extended belly and I rush into my room to grab my phone.
“Maggie, sweetie, how are you?” my aunt says when she answers.
“I can’t give it up, Aunt Virginia, I just can’t! I don’t want anyone else raising my baby,” I say, softly weeping.
“Maggie, sweetie, calm down. It’s going to be okay,” she says, comforting me. “You have something inside of you that you will love and cherish one day. This is your baby, Maggie, and if you want to keep it, I’m with you one-hundred percent.”
“I’m not sure I can do this alone. I’m scared,” I say to her.
“Come home, Maggie. Come live with me. I’ll help you,” she tells me, and finally, for the first time in months, I feel like I can breathe. I exhale and smile knowing that I don’t have to do this alone.
As I lie in my bed trying to sleep, thoughts keep racing through my head. I toss and turn until I finally get out of bed and go out onto the balcony. As I look down at the busy streets I think of the call that I have to make to Nichole at the adoption agency. I think of the couples that I will be disappointing because I won’t be interviewing them, how this is just another attempt at parenthood that will fail them. I sit on the balcony and watch the sun when it comes up as I start another chapter in my ever-changing life.
I dial the agency’s number as my hand shakes. I hate to disappoint Nichole but I’ve made up my mind. She answers on the first ring. “Hello, Nichole,” I say. “I’m calling to tell you I’ve changed my mind; I can’t go through with the adoption.” I say it as fast as I can, hoping it lessens the sting.
I hear her exhale. “Maggie, are you sure that’s what you want?” she says, sounding irritated.
“Yes. I’m one-hundred percent positive.
“It’s okay, I’ve been busy too. Hey, I got a full-time position at the law firm.” she says, excitedly.
“That’s great! Now you can get serious about finally going to law school.”
“That’s my plan,” she adds. I pause before saying goodbye, hoping that I can find the nerve to tell her about the baby.
IT’S BEEN A month since meeting with the adoption service and Nichole calls regularly to see how I’m doing and if I need anything. She’s always bright, cheerful, and friendly. It’s almost nauseating. I really think she’s just making sure I haven’t change my mind. Two months later Nichole calls to tell me there are several couples that have expressed interest in meeting me. She says she would like for me to come in and look at their profiles so I could pick which couples I’d like to meet and interview. When I hang up I have a sick feeling again as I keep replaying those words in my head. Interview. Interview. I start to question myself. Am I seriously going to “interview” a couple to take my baby? To raise it and love it like it’s their own? How can they love something that Sam and I made? How am I going to get past this and move on knowing my child is out there and another woman is answering to mommy! I wail as I fall onto my bed and clutch the pillow to my chest. I sob and yell into my empty room. “I need you, Mom! I need you to put your arms around me and tell me it’s okay. Please God, help me. Tell me I’m making the right decision. Just make this pain in my heart go away!” I sit up and throw my pillows across the room; I feel so much anger and heartbreak at this very moment. “I hate you, Sam!” I scream. “I hate that you’re not here and I’m left to deal with this alone. How could you do this to me, Sam?” I lie on the floor and cry. I cry until I have no more tears left.
I stand in the shower and slowly rub my hands over my belly, it feels fuller, swollen. And after I finish I stand in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom. I turn to the side and my heart jumps. I can actually see that there’s a bump, a baby bump. I stare as I lightly brush my fingers over my small extended belly and I rush into my room to grab my phone.
“Maggie, sweetie, how are you?” my aunt says when she answers.
“I can’t give it up, Aunt Virginia, I just can’t! I don’t want anyone else raising my baby,” I say, softly weeping.
“Maggie, sweetie, calm down. It’s going to be okay,” she says, comforting me. “You have something inside of you that you will love and cherish one day. This is your baby, Maggie, and if you want to keep it, I’m with you one-hundred percent.”
“I’m not sure I can do this alone. I’m scared,” I say to her.
“Come home, Maggie. Come live with me. I’ll help you,” she tells me, and finally, for the first time in months, I feel like I can breathe. I exhale and smile knowing that I don’t have to do this alone.
As I lie in my bed trying to sleep, thoughts keep racing through my head. I toss and turn until I finally get out of bed and go out onto the balcony. As I look down at the busy streets I think of the call that I have to make to Nichole at the adoption agency. I think of the couples that I will be disappointing because I won’t be interviewing them, how this is just another attempt at parenthood that will fail them. I sit on the balcony and watch the sun when it comes up as I start another chapter in my ever-changing life.
I dial the agency’s number as my hand shakes. I hate to disappoint Nichole but I’ve made up my mind. She answers on the first ring. “Hello, Nichole,” I say. “I’m calling to tell you I’ve changed my mind; I can’t go through with the adoption.” I say it as fast as I can, hoping it lessens the sting.
I hear her exhale. “Maggie, are you sure that’s what you want?” she says, sounding irritated.
“Yes. I’m one-hundred percent positive.
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