“Don’t look at me like that! I dont need this baby. Take it!”a stranger simply shoved a baby carrier into my hands. I had no idea what was happening.
My husband and I had always gotten on well. We hardly ever argued. I did my best to be a good wife and homemaker. We married while still at university. Then I fell pregnant and gave birth to twins. Once the children were older, we started a small business. I only helped my husband occasionally, as I had the kids and house to manage. More than anything, I loved cooking. My husband always looked forward to weekends when Id treat him to something delicious. Every time, I tried to come up with a new dish, and he was my chief taste-tester. The children were always curious what Mum would whip up next. With all the chaoskids, home, workI never paid much attention to what my husband was up to. It never crossed my mind that he might betray me.
The truth was, the past year had been tough. Business was struggling, and we were cutting corners wherever we could. My husband even had to travel across the country to secure new sales contracts. The twins had started Year One, so I stayed home with them.
One evening, as we pulled into the drive after work, a beautiful woman caught us off guard. We stepped out of the car, and the stranger rushed up to me, thrusting the baby carrier into my arms.
“Dont stare at me like that! I dont want this child if he wont be with me. Take it!” she shrieked, pointing a finger at my husband.
I stood frozen, completely lost.
“You promised youd leave her and be with me! If not, I dont want this baby!” The woman spat at my feet, turned on her heel, and stormed off.
The shock held me for minutes before I realised I was holding the carrier. I didnt ask my husband anythinghis expression told me everything. That woman was who I thought she was, and he looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him. We walked inside in silence. Inside the carrier was a baby boy, no more than two weeks old.
“Youll pick the kids up from school and buy everything I list for the baby.” My husband nodded without a word.
Eighteen years passed. Many of my friends judged me, not understanding why Id raise another womans child when I already had two daughters.
I never asked my husband about that woman. I raised the boy as my own. The girls adored having a little brother. We never hid the truth from our son, and when he was old enough, we explained everything. To my surprise, he took it calmlynever even asked about his birth mother. And I was happy. I had three wonderful children who loved us. Things between my husband and me had strained, but he did his best to make amends.
On our sons 18th birthday, we planned a family celebration. My daughtersnow married and living elsewherewere coming over. Just as we were about to sit down for dinner, the doorbell rang. We werent expecting anyone else, so I felt uneasy. All day, something had nagged at me, and I was right. When I stepped into the hall, I saw a thin woman who reminded me of the one whod handed me her son.
“I want to speak to my son,” she demanded.
“Theres no son of yours here,” my boy and I replied together.
He shut the door in her face and called everyone to the table. Tears welled in my eyes. I was happyI had such a wonderful son, even if he wasnt mine by blood.
