One Daughter for Two
Dearest diary,
I still remember the first day I met Simon. It was instant love at first sight. Wed been seeing each other for barely a month when, over coffee in Oxford, he suddenly said, Emma, will you be my wife?
I was taken aback. Wife? How? Weve only known each other for a month!
He grinned, A months plenty for me. I know youre the one. Theres no one else, honestly. I cant imagine life without you.
I laughed nervously, but snuggled into his arms. Alright, Simon. I suppose Im ready too, I whispered.
When I told Mum, she fretted over my quick decision. Have you rushed things, Emma? Are you expecting?
I rolled my eyes. No, Mum! Simon just said he couldn’t live without me, and I realised I felt the same. It’s love, Mum, truly.
Soon enough, everyone understood why wed hurried. We were made for each other, and it showed. Simon was attentive and devoted, and I loved and cared for him deeply.
Yet, beneath the happiness, there was something missing. We both desperately wanted a child, but my pregnancy never came.
Simon, perhaps we need to be checked. Maybe theres a reason I cant conceive.
He nodded immediately. Medical appointments, hopeful prayers, endless travel nothing changed. My heart broke, but the answer remained the same: motherhood wouldnt arrive the traditional way.
Simon was gentle. Emma, maybe we could visit an orphanage. Maybe we could adopt raise a child as our own?
Id secretly hoped for this, so I eagerly agreed. Ive been thinking about that too.
So off we went Simon knew a childrens home near Reading, from where he passed sometimes on business trips. There, amid the anxious, weary faces, one little girl caught our eye. Blonde curls, piercing blue eyes. She hurried over and wrapped herself around my knees.
Mummy, she squealed, and I couldn’t let her go.
Thats how our daughter, Lucy, came into our lives. Her laughter filled our cottage with hope. My motherly love poured out for her, and Simon adored her too.
We lived in a small village, where everyone knew everyone elses business. Naturally, people knew Lucy was adopted. It didnt matter when she was young. But as Lucy grew, things changed. She was fourteen when a classmate mentioned she wasnt our biological child.
Lucy stormed home from secondary school, tears streaking her cheeks. Mum, why didnt you and Dad tell me? I know you took me from the childrens home!
I tried to soothe her. We wanted to tell you, Lucy, but hoped youd be older, more ready to understand. But word got out, and now it hurts. We always feared this day.
Lucy cried, screamed, then retreated into herself, growing cold and distant. She was a teenager, hurt and angry. She slammed doors, snapped at us, sometimes was quite rude.
Then, tragedy struck. Simon died, suddenly, in a car accident, returning from Birmingham just before Christmas. Hed often travelled for work, and if delayed, sent postcards. When I lost him, at forty-six, my world shattered. Lucy, rather than support me, rebelled further. She left home for days, refused to listen, shouted harshly.
I tried everything tears, gentle words, pleading but I never yelled. I longed for understanding, but struggled alone as Lucy matured rapidly.
After Lucy finished school, she told me one morning, firm and determined: Im leaving for London.
I looked up, worn out, clutching the tea towel. To study, love?
No, Mum. I want to find my birth mother.
It knocked the air from my lungs. Why, Lucy? Have I not been your mother?
She stared out the window, silent, before answering, I need to know who she is. I must understand why she gave me away, why she abandoned me. I have a right.
You do, Lucy, I replied, knowing nothing could stop her now. She was nearly nineteen. Quickly, Lucy packed her few belongings into a small bag, kissed my cheek, and promised to visit. She walked to the village bus stop, and I watched with aching heart as she disappeared. I was alone.
Days crawled by. I retired, and now spent long winter evenings sorting Simons old postcards kept safe in a faded tin tied with ribbon. There werent many, but the last still had fir branches on the front, faded with age. On the back, Simon had written, Emma, Ill be delayed three days, miss you and love you.
With trembling fingers, I pressed the card to my chest, embracing the memory of my beloved husband. So many years had passed nearly twenty-five since I lost him.
I spent most afternoons at the window, lost in memories. I used to sit at the bench outside the corner shop, chatting with the neighbours, but now I rarely ventured beyond the gate only for essentials.
Curtains drawn, postbox empty, silence reigned. The only sound came from Sooty, my old tabby, who leapt from the sill and occasionally purred loudly at my feet. After feeding Sooty and a cup of tea, I reminded myself to pop to the shop.
I gazed at Simons photograph he cradled baby Lucy, both smiling.
Oh, Simon, you left so early, and Im all alone, I whispered to him.
Quiet filled the house, broken only by Sootys antics. I drank my tea, when suddenly, someone knocked at the gate. I remembered the morning Lucy had left for London, determined to find her birth mother. I relived that moment over and over. It was a grey, still morning. I sat in the kitchen, brewing tea, when someone rapped upon the gate.
I slipped on my shoes, wrapped a shawl around my shoulders, stepped outside, and opened the latch. A woman stood there much younger than me, sadness in her eyes.
Hello Are you Emma? Her voice trembled.
Yes, and you are?
The stranger hesitated, shifting nervously.
Im Lucys mum well, her other mum biologically speaking Im Vera. I suppose you understand.
Cold dread filled me Lucys birth mother, so soon after Lucy had left. How did she find me?
Wait Has something happened to Lucy? I panicked, Has she found you, then?
Vera rambled, speaking quickly, Lucy is in hospital in London something with her stomach. We were walking in the park when she doubled over in pain, sat on a bench, and I called an ambulance.
We stood there silently, looking at each other.
Lucy found me a while ago, but was afraid to tell you, Vera sniffed.
Oh dear, come inside, I said, snapping out of it, lets have some tea.
I poured Vera a hot cup, and she settled at the table, opening up. I was very young when I had Lucy. My parents were strict and forced me to give up my baby. My fiancé vanished as soon as he found out, and my parents threatened to disown me if I kept her. I signed her away in hospital. Ive carried that guilt ever since Sorry, but Lucy especially wanted you in hospital.
I jumped up. Why didnt Lucy call me?
Her phone was stolen or really her bag. When the ambulance came, they took her quickly. Her bag was left on the bench, with her documents. When I returned, it was gone.
Oh, my poor girl, I whispered.
She gave me your address and told me, Find my mum.
We sat in silence, exchanging anxious glances, but with no hostility only concern and exhaustion.
Lets go, I said, locking up the house, we must hurry.
The bus to London crept along painfully slowly as Vera and I traveled. At first, we sat quietly, but soon got talking.
I live alone too, Vera sighed, My husband died three years ago, after a long illness. We were together for years, but after Lucy, I couldnt have more children. I always thought it was fate that I was punished for what happened.
So really, Lucy is all we have, I said sadly.
Thats how it is One daughter for two mums, Vera replied.
At the hospital, we were asked, Who are you here to see?
Our daughter, Lucy Bennett, we answered together.
And you are?
Her mother, we chorused, then locked eyes and burst out laughing.
Two mums? Well, come on in, then.
Lucy lay pale in bed, an IV attached. She smiled weakly when she saw us.
Mum and Mum she whispered.
I kissed her forehead.
Im here, darling, I said, as Vera settled beside her.
Everything will be alright now, sweetheart. Youre not alone, Vera soothed, tucking her in.
We stayed by Lucys side for hours, talking quietly, sharing stories.
Since then, Lucy has two mothers. Years later, she married and now has two sons. Vera and I share our one daughter, meeting as a family from time to time.
Thank you for reading, dear diary, and for sharing happiness and kindness. Wishing love and luck to all!
