**Diary Entry 12th March**
Its easy to spread your legs, but when it comes to taking responsibility, some would rather abandon their child.
Lydia and her husband had longed for their first baby. Hed spent nine months shielding her, driving her to and from universityespecially when the pavements turned icy. Just before the birth, though, he was sent away on business. He could have refusedhed planned to quit his job anyway once the baby arrived. It wasnt right, dragging himself from one shift to another while Lydia was left alone.
The contractions started the moment James had gone. The pain was unbearable, and worse still, he wasnt there. This wasnt how shed imagined bringing their firstborn into the world.
The baby was healthy, but Lydia couldnt bring herself to call him. Let him hear the news from someone else.
She glanced around the ward. Opposite her lay a woman in her forties. Nearby, a younger girl chatted on her phone. By the door, another woman wept quietly, facing the wall.
Exhausted, Lydia sank into the thin hospital pillow and fell into a deep sleep, as if nothing else existed.
“Will you be breastfeeding?” The voice pulled her from sleep. She turned eagerly.
The nurse stood by the crying woman. “Well? At least hold her. Look how beautiful she is.” The woman stayed rigid, unmoving.
“If you can open your legs, you can take responsibility. Otherwise, its better to give the child up,” the nurse muttered before leaving.
The older woman, Margaret, spoke first, her voice sharp with emotion. “You think I wanted this? Im forty-three, my sons marriedIll be a grandmother soon! And now this Whats done is done. The childs innocent. If you didnt want her, you shouldve acted sooner. Now shell be passed around care homeshave you thought about that?”
Emilythe weeping womanonly cried harder.
“Stop it,” Margaret snapped. “Tears wont help. Feed your baby and stop being foolish.”
“Maybe she was assaulted,” piped up Abigail, finally putting her phone down. “Or the fathers someone closestepfather, perhaps?”
Lydia listened, guilt gnawing at her. Here she was, loved, supportedyet still finding reasons to complain. And there sat Emily, abandoned, with a child no one wanted.
That baby would grow up bitterresenting life because her mother was betrayed, or because her family was broken. No balloons, no flowers, just shame.
Swallowing hard, Lydia asked, “If you had somewhere to go would you keep her?”
Emily looked at her like she was mad. “Of coursebut thatll never happen.” She turned back to the wall, silent.
A few hours later, Lydia announced, “Youll stay at the halls. My mums the warden. You can clean, and theyll give you a room.”
“Oh!” Abigail interjected. “Ive got a spare baby carrierlet me call my husband. Weve got twowhy do we need both?”
“Ill bring clothes,” Margaret added. “My daughters old thingswashed, pressed. Theyre good as new.”
By the next day, women from other wards had come offering prams, blankets, even formula.
Emily sobbed openlynot in despair, but overwhelmed. “Ill pay it back,” she mumbled.
“Pass it on,” the others murmured. “Someone else will need it.”
That night, drifting off, Lydia smiled. Emily would be alright. Shed find a good man.
And the baby? Shed have her mother. What more could she need?
Have you ever witnessed such kindness before? I wonder.
