Emma, think a hundred times before you sign away your baby, the midwife warned, her voice trembling. Once its done, theres no going back.
I cant abandon him, Emma sobbed, clutching the thin hospital blanket. Please, understandI cant.
All the staff at St.Georges Maternity ward hovered around the young mother, their eyes soft with concern. It was clear the decision weighed heavily on her, and they all hoped they might persuade her otherwise.
My father raised me with iron rules, Emma whispered, teeth clenched. Since I was a child he kept telling me, Never bring a child into the family under scandal. How can I tell him this happened? He still thinks Im studying, getting a profession. Ive been at home for six months because of the pregnancy, and Ive been lying.
One of the nurses gave a gentle smile. Life throws all sorts of blows. He may shout, may scold, but in the end hell hold his grandson in his arms. Hell see youve continued the line.
No, Emma protested, voice cracking. You dont know my father. Hes unforgiving. If Mother were still alive, shed understand me.
Tears fell like rain. Her own father, a stern solicitor named Arthur, had already declared, I wash my hands of this. I dont want the child. Emma had believed in his sincerity, and that belief cut even deeper. She refused the abortion, and a healthy, rosycheeked boy was born.
Emmas mother had died when Emma was in Year6. A car crash that took her colleagues home left Emma the sole survivor. Her life split into before and after. Arthur snapped, his pain and fury spilling onto his daughter.
Emma, he roared, if you bring any disgrace to this house, Ill throw you out. There will be no shame in this family. Study hard, become a doctor, be respectable.
Father, theres no disgrace, Emma pleaded, voice barely audible. Im still young, Im doing well in school. Please dont yell.
She graduated with a gold medal, entered the very medical school her parents had wanted, and returned home a few times a year. Arthur would cook his famous roast potatoes and pepper the conversation with reminders of scandal, hoping the threat would stick.
What he feared came true. In her second year, Emma met Tom at a university dance. She didnt notice the flutter at first, but soon she was head over heels her first love. She imagined herself walking down the aisle in a white dress, her fathers pride swelling as he watched his brilliant, beautiful daughter become a bride. Then Tom walked out, shattering her wedding dreams like paper.
The birth was uncomplicated, but Emma could not bear to look at the tiny face of her son. She told the matron she would write a relinquishment form. When the newborns little fists curled and his cheek crumpled, Emmas heart stopped. She had carried him for nine months; could she now give him away?
The ward held three mothers with their infants. Emma turned her back to the wall, refusing to watch the others feed their babies. The nurses coaxed, hoping she might change her mind, but she never fed her own child.
The relinquishment was signed. No pleading could sway her. She hurriedly packed a bag and left the hospital in silence, clutching the paperwork. The midwives watched the little boyAndrew, they called him with sorrowful eyes.
Little lad, youre on your own now, dear. Who knows what fate awaits you? Youll probably find a good family; children like you are taken in quickly.
Andrew stopped wailing, his tiny nose twitching as if listening. Nurse Margaret, a kindly matron who remembered every child abandoned, sang softly and fed him a bottle. She had seen many mothers return, but rarely.
That night, as if sensing his abandonment, Andrew began to wail with a piercing, plaintive cry. Margaret barely slept, soothing him, offering brief sips of formula, then watching him tire and become listless by dawn.
Ah, child, she murmured, your mother must have called you, but shes gone, unwilling to take you.
During the morning rounds, Emma stormed back in, eyes wild. Where is he? Has he been handed over yet? I want him back!
Emma, youre back! Thank God, the matron breathed, relief flooding her face. Andrew is still with us; we havent transferred the papers. Are you certain? This isnt a trifleyou cant just change your mind on a whim.
Im sure, Emma sobbed. Hes my son! How could I ever abandon him?
She clutched her chest, breath shaking, I havent slept a wink; Ive heard his cries all night. My heart aches as if it might split. My little boy is here alone, motherless Let me feed him, I have milk ready.
They moved Emma to a private room and brought the baby to her. She cradled him, and his mouth opened, sucking eagerly. The staff stood at the doorway, their faces softening with genuine joy. The child, once marked for abandonment, now clung to his mother.
I told my father everything, Emma confessed, tears streaming. I said Id given birth and left him because of his cruelty. I told him I cant live without my son and that I want him back. He was shocked at first, then said he wanted to see his grandson. He called me foolish, a bad mother, and scolded me for not telling him sooner. All my life Ive heard never bring a child into the family out of wedlock. Yet he he even sobbed with relief. Ill take my son, go see my father, give him a proper name and surname.
The whole ward watched the fragile silhouette of mother and child as they passed the window, wishing them happiness.
How often do parents frighten daughters from childhood with threats like, If you bring a child into scandal, youll be thrown out! How many young women have terminated pregnancies or given up newborns because of those words? How many shattered lives have resulted? Morality matters, but girls must also know they are loved, that their parents will accept themwhether they have a husband, are pregnant, or bear a child out of wedlock.
May they be loved and find joy.
