What Could Have Been

Floating, it feels so freeing to float.

We’re lying in bed together; our legs tangled tightly, my head resting on your bare chest, your hand resting on my swollen belly. We’re comfortable, content, feeling that indescribable feeling of becoming parents. I look up at your face, but it is hidden in the dark of the room. I can feel your smile through your jaw, and yet you never smiled. You weren’t happy, at any point in the pregnancy; in fact, you never made it to this point. Though I wished you had, so many times.

The next morning you’ve made me breakfast and I can’t believe how cheerful it makes me, even though you didn’t. You give me a kiss and tell me “I love you.”

I smile back. “No you don’t, but I know I loved you.”

You smile at me, but the smile is all I can see. The rest of your face is still shadowed, yet sunlight is streaming through the curtains.

“I’m so happy we’re having this baby,” your smile gets brighter.

“I wish you were, but you told me to get an abortion,” I answer lightly, picking through the fruit bowl, “I know I was happy, but you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

 You nod at me, a blank face now, no eyes or nose, the lips you smiled with also gone.

In the background, I can hear a baby crying.

Warm, the warmth feels inviting.

It’s a baby shower for me; and Mom, I’m so glad you came. I smile at you, and you smile back, the rest of your face is an inky smudge. You tell me that you’re proud of me.

“I know you’re not, but I wish you were.” I laugh. You laugh with me.

You tell me all the wonderful things it means to be a parent, say how much you can’t wait to hold this bundle of joy.

“You said that I was ruining my life and that I was no longer welcome in your home,” we throw our heads back, laughing. You hug me, and I breathe you in.

“I miss you, Mom; I wish you could have supported me. This child deserved some grandparents,” I whisper in your ear, you nod in reply. Your face is gone; just a black hole with hair.

Somewhere, I hear a baby crying.

Chill, the chill is calming.

I’m in the delivery room, I have two nurses and a doctor that comes in and out. But I also have my baby’s dad, and my mom, in the room with me. Both of you are offering kind words, helping me to keep calm, and sharing in whispers of excitement. There isn’t any pain.

“In the real birth, I was in lots of pain. I didn’t have insurance, so I refused an epidural. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” I smile at the two of you. You both nod in unison. I can only see your smiles. A nurse comes in and says that I’ve had a baby.

“A beautiful boy,” she announces. Her voice sounds robotic. I can’t see her face, it’s like looking into ripples on top of water. She leaves the room, and I have a baby in my hands.

This new little boy is sleeping, one finger in his mouth.

“He is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” I say aloud. I snuggle the little velvet head to my face, feeling the rush of love I bear for this child.

“He deserved to have a daddy, to have a grandma, more people to love him,” My gaze never leaves this precious head. “The nurses and doctors urged me to leave him here at the hospital. They said that he would have a chance at a better life. But I knew I couldn’t leave him. He had been abandoned by so many before he was even born, how could I leave him after?” I look away now, searching each of your faces, trying to find an ounce of sympathy for this amazing creature.

I hear a baby cry, though the one in my arms is still sleeping.

There are no faces, only blended swirls where faces should be. I feel as though someone has come by and just suctioned them off, to prevent me from facing the people who have left me alone.

Cold, the cold tells me that I have failed.

Somewhere, a baby stops crying.

Georgiana enters the apartment, Officer Thompson on her heels.

“She’s in the tub,” she says with a sniffle, blotting her eyes with a Kleenex, “I live just below her and her darlin’ son. I knew summtin’ was wrong when I heard the little’un cryin’ and no one heshin’, I knew summtin’ was wrong. When the waters started drippin’, I used my key and found the fella cryin’ in the crib, and the bathroom locked.” Her voice choked as she described the distress she found the child in.

“Was she in contact with the father?” The officer asked, as he jimmied the lock on the door knob. Water had leeched into the carpet from underneath the door. Thompson pushed the door open with ease.

The young lady was floating in a bathtub. The faucet was still running, spilling more water onto the floor. The small apartment bathroom was flooded. Thompson grimaced, reminded of his own wife and child. It’s a damn shame, he thought.

“No, she don’t have much time for nuttin’ like that. When she wasn’t with her boy, she was workin’. Worked two jobs, she did. Stayed in this shithole ‘cause she couldn’t much afford anythin’ else. The young’uns daddy didn’t much care to be a daddy. He ain’t never met the baby.” Georgiana reflected on the young mom’s situation. “Her parents didn’t do much for her and the granbaby either. Done threw her out when they found out she was havin’ a baby. Figured she had already ruined her life, she wasn’t gonna ruin their place in the church.”

Thompson didn’t say anything. Being a new dad, he couldn’t imagine leaving his child alone to fend for herself in the world at any age. Even as a dedicated church going man, an unwed, expectant woman is no cause to abandon them. In his line of work, there were always cases of the parents screwing up the child. He had made a promise to himself a long time ago that he wouldn’t be one of those people.

“We’ll reach out to her parents, and if the dad is named on the birth certificate, we’ll see if we can track him down. Maybe her parents will be willing to take in the baby, given the circumstances.” Thompson regurgitated the same speech he had given in countless similar situations.

Georgiana snorted. “Poor girl deserved better.”