Dad’s voice grew louder as he got up and walked toward me. “Chrissy, you won’t let us help you! We can’t help you because all you do is lie to us!”
I bit my tongue to keep from talking back. I’m not a liar! You just don’t understand! I was barely holding back the turmoil building inside me.
Then I heard, “Mom and I spent the night talking and praying about what to do next. We want you to stay here with us but we know you will keep rushing back to him without thinking of the baby’s welfare. Can’t you see you’re running yourself into the ground, Chrissy? We can’t protect you, but we want to protect this baby—if you’ll let us. There’s a place in upstate New York that has been recommended to us where you can go. We’ll take care of the arrangements.”
I conceded; I had no strength left to argue and knew in my heart that I didn’t have a strong argument anyway.
All I could see for miles out the window of the old beat-up station wagon were cornfields. The road was bumpy, and I was extremely uncomfortable. I tried to adjust my position to relieve the pressure on my back. My “hostess” looked over her shoulder and said, “We got another thirty miles to go. . . . You gonna be all right back there?” I stared at the wiry gray curls that covered her head.
“Oh, I’ll be fine.”
Her broad shoulders stretched the faded cotton dress that she was wearing, making the ugly rose pattern on it stand out even more. My eyes went back and forth between the Hanleys, the couple sitting in the front seat. I’m not like these people, and I don’t belong here.
Even before we got to “the home,” I determined not to let them get close to me. These people were not going to be my friends. I just wanted to get through the next few months and put all this behind me.
Mr. Hanley tried to ease the awkwardness, asking me about my flight. His wife gave me a pained smile.
In an attempt to not be totally rude, I commented, “I didn’t know it was way out in the country like this. How long have you lived out here?”
We continued to make light conversation until we pulled up in front of a large old farmhouse. They led me across the porch, through a squeaky screen door, and into the kitchen, where I was introduced to four other girls who were all pregnant. I immediately felt like I had entered into a program instead of a home. The stark decor, the pamphlets, and the prenatal vitamins on the long kitchen table made the environment seem institutional.
“Chrissy, Lane will take you up to the bedroom. We’ll be having dinner in an hour.” Mrs. Hanley dug into the pocket of her dress, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and headed out the side door.
Lane cleared her throat to get my attention. She smiled and asked, “Have you ever eaten venison?”
I gave her a puzzled look.
“It’s deer meat.”
“Uh, actually I haven’t.”
The girls all chuckled.
“Don’t worry. You get used to it. Come on. Let me show you to our room.”
I followed Lane through the living room, noticing the mismatched assortment of furniture. Nothing about this place felt like home, and the musty smell was already starting to cling to me.
As we climbed the stairs, I asked, “So will you and I be sharing a room?”
“Yes, but I won’t be here for long; as you can see, I’m about ready to pop. The baby’s due in three weeks or so. How about you?” We made our way down the hallway covered with dingy yellow wallpaper with faded blue flowers. Some of the edges were tattered and curled up, showing cracked walls beneath.
“I believe I’m due in eight weeks, but I’ll know for sure tomorrow when I go to the doctor. They set up an appointment for me first thing in the morning.”
“Wow—you’re carrying incredibly small!” Lane said in surprise.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” When we got to the room, she showed me which bed was mine and where to put my things.
“While you’re getting settled, I’m going down to help get dinner ready. You must be worn out from traveling. Those country roads are enough to put you in labor!” I liked her sense of humor already.
“Don’t forget to be down in an hour, okay, dearie?” she said as she winked and put two fingers above her head like pretend antlers.
I dropped my bags and sat on the edge of the twin bed that was assigned to me. Lying down and slowly stretching out, I felt really pregnant for the very first time. I took a deep breath and released it slowly, a wave of tiredness washing over me. I stared at my belly, actually seeing it for what it was. A few tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes and rolled into my hairline. I was so exhausted. My breaths hitched in my chest as I felt the little energy I still had slowly seep out of me. I was weighed down by a sorrow that I had never allowed myself to feel at home. It was as if the peaceful surroundings forced me to be still enough to finally rewind my life, something I had avoided over the past months.
No more entourage of friends . . . no more fashion . . . no more freedom . . . no more being made a fuss over . . . no more church princess . . . no more three hand squeezes . . . no more shopping trips . . . no more music that changed people. All the things that made me love my world, I had given up for this relationship. I thought about the insanity of getting and keeping Jaye, all the lies, pretending to be the “good girl,” and trying to manage two opposing worlds. The burning desire to be the perfect couple with Jaye in my fashion-centered world warred with the girl who longed to be perfect in her parents’ love-filled world. In the stillness of this unfamiliar place, the stark reality of my situation hit me. All this time, it hadn’t been real to me, but as I lay there, I realized that I was going to have a baby, an actual person. Was I carrying a boy or a girl? It had never occurred to me to ask or even wonder before now. I rolled over on my side, tucked a pillow under my belly, curled up my legs, and let myself drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The clinking of silverware added notes to the side conversations and the soft murmurs of “Pass the venison,” “Thanks,” and “More peas, please.”
“Girls,” Mrs. Hanley chimed in, “tomorrow a lady from the local craft store will be coming to work with you on photo albums for your babies.” Excited chatter drowned out the rest of her announcement as the girls talked about the last time they crafted. “Um, this time be sure not to glue the front pages shut, okay?” Everyone started to laugh. “Chrissy, have you ever crafted before?”
I looked up from my plate, wishing the food would disappear on its own. “Not really.”
Lane laughed and said, “Well, this will be another new adventure for you.”
“So, what do you think of the venison?” Mrs. Hanley asked.
“It’s . . . different,” I replied as I used the mashed potatoes and peas to cover up my helping. The voices droned around me as I glanced out the window and saw the fields stretching to the horizon. How will Jaye ever find me here? Does he even want to find me? I couldn’t keep the thoughts from spiraling downward. What is he doing and who is he with? I need to call him as soon as possible.
“Mrs. Hanley, may I use the phone to call home?” I asked.
She paused from clearing the table with the girls and pointed to a door off of the living room. “Sure, it’s right in there.”
The jitters in my stomach calmed as I pushed away from the table and handed my plate to one of the girls on cleaning duty.
Hours later, while my roommate and the rest of the house were fast asleep, I tiptoed down to that room over and over again. At first, I called him every hour—with no answer. After several more attempts, I started dialing his number every half hour until someone at his apartment took the phone off the hook.
I slowly slid the handset down the side of my face, wincing at the jarring busy signal. Looking at the phone and then at my belly, I was overcome by all the things I had given up and how far I had fallen. I was tempted to run out of the house and hitchhike to the airport so that I could find him. Suddenly, the baby started to move, a reminder that something more than Jaye and me was at stake
. I sat on the floor, leaning over with one arm holding my belly tightly and the other arm supporting me, until it buckled. I cried hysterically, feeling so betrayed.
It took a few weeks, but I finally began to warm up to the Hanleys. Even though I didn’t think their house was nice and it annoyed me that we were out in the middle of nowhere, I grew to appreciate how they cared for all of us. Mrs. Hanley faithfully took us to our doctors’ appointments, made sure we were eating well, and took each girl to the hospital when it was time to deliver her baby.
Lane had left after giving birth to a baby boy. I missed her good-heartedness and laughter. She had helped me adjust from the first day I arrived. We promised to stay in touch, and I hoped to visit her and the baby once they were settled. Right now, though, it was nice having a room to myself.
One afternoon when I was resting, Mrs. Hanley knocked on the door. “Chrissy, could you come with me to my office? I want you to meet Kathryn.” I slipped on my shoes, and as I followed her down the hall, she continued talking. “You’ll just love Kathryn. She meets with every girl who comes through our home. She’s great at explaining the process and will answer any and every question you may have.”
As we approached the office door, she stopped and laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Oh, and remember, you are not committing to anything by going to this meeting.”
I smiled faintly. “Thanks, Mrs. Hanley.”
When we walked in, Kathryn stood up and walked toward me. She smiled and her hazel eyes lit up as she brushed sandy brown hair away from her fair, slightly rounded face.
“Hello, Chrissy, it’s so nice to meet you,” she said, covering my hand with both her hands. Immediately, her warmth and friendliness put me at ease. Mrs. Hanley left the room and we made our way to the table. As Kathryn sat down and pulled her chair closer to the table, I admired her tailored tweed trousers and pretty blue blouse, complemented by a simple strand of pearls.
Step by step, she began to explain what her agency provided. She showed me a photo album of all the couples who were waiting to adopt a baby, pointing out their detailed biographies. I slowly turned the pages, examining every photo. These women appeared so ready, so eager to love, so prepared. All that I wasn’t suddenly became magnified. I felt so incapable, so shattered, so distracted, so empty. I’m not like any of them.
Kathryn interrupted my thoughts. “You don’t have to decide now. Another option would be to place the baby in foster care immediately after delivery, which allows you some time to make the decision that’s best for you and the child.”
I thanked her for her time and said that I had a lot to think over.
Reaching Jaye was hit or miss those days, but it only seemed to deepen my desire to be with him. When we did connect, we didn’t come up with any real plans for what we would do when the baby was born. He couldn’t afford to get us an apartment and I was not about to ask my parents for help because it would only prove that Jaye couldn’t take care of me.
A week later, I knocked on the door to Mrs. Hanley’s office. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure, Chrissy, come in.”
I walked over to her desk and laid down the papers I had been clutching. “After talking to Jaye, I’ve decided to sign the foster-care papers. Jaye said he would come for the baby’s delivery but we know this is the right decision. Would you send the paperwork to Kathryn for me?”
She briefly scanned the papers and then raised her eyes to mine. There was a moment of silence.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “I know that this is the best thing.”
A SHARP PAIN TIGHTENED MY STOMACH and jolted me out of a deep sleep. Could this be it? I need to get Mrs. Hanley.
Everything happened quickly after that. Beads of sweat coated my face as I lay in the backseat of the station wagon, my feet pressing against the door with each agonizing contraction. Are we there yet? Why does the hospital have to be so far away? I clutched my round belly, closed my eyes tightly, and prayed that it would be over soon.
I don’t remember much after we arrived at the hospital except bright lights, people rushing around, and intense pain. I wish they would stop telling me to push. I am pushing! There seemed to be a crowd in my room, but everyone blurred together. Gripping the railings on either side of the hospital bed, I gave one final push, lay back, and closed my eyes.
“It’s a girl!” the doctor said.
Later that evening, the squeaking wheels of the portable cradle woke me. As the nurse entered my room, I was torn between wanting to see my baby and wanting her to go away because I was such a mess, feeling like such an unfit mother. I turned my head away.
“Here she is, ready to eat,” the nurse said softly. I turned back as she handed the small bundle to me.
I don’t want to look at her. Even though she was part of me, I know she wasn’t anything like me. She was innocent and pure. The nurse gave me a bottle, smiled, and walked away. The moment I peeked at the tiny face, it was if a valve of my heart had been opened and was gushing out a torrent of uncontrollable emotions. My heart exploded with love, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was so strong that tears began streaming down my face. I could barely see her through the blur of my tears, but when I closed my eyes, her face was already imprinted in my mind. The sweet sounds of her gentle whimpers and her fast breaths going in and out drew me in. This was my baby girl. These were her sounds.
I pulled her closer to my face, and my first instinct was to hum a melody against her cheek, taking in the sweet smell of her skin. Alone with her in that dimly lit room, I reached over, still hurting from the delivery, and put the bottle in her tiny mouth. I couldn’t stop staring at her. It seemed as though she was staring back at me. I never wanted this moment to end.
The sound of the door opening got my attention but didn’t take me away from the rapture I was experiencing. As the nurse leaned over and gently took her from my arms, I watched her swaddle my baby to return her to the nursery.
For the rest of the evening, my mind was in a fog from pain medication. Finally I fell asleep, but in the middle of the night I awoke, disoriented.
Where am I?
I grabbed the metal bars on both sides of the bed and strained to pull myself up and reach for the privacy curtain separating the beds. There was no sound coming from the other side of the room, but I wanted to see if another patient was there. Every move I made sent sharp pains through my abdomen and a tightness from front to back.
After struggling for what seemed like hours to slide the curtain back, I was devastated when I saw an empty bed. I had hoped I wasn’t alone, but I was. The television was tuned to a fuzzy channel with an old episode of Perry Mason playing. As I gingerly lay back down, I stared at the cracks on the ceiling. Thoughts jumbled in my head as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened. Then my heart was gripped with such a pang of loneliness that I closed my eyes; I couldn’t bear it anymore. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep.
“They just called up from the lobby and said you have a visitor, miss,” the nurse said as she yanked the cord to pull up the metal blinds, letting the bright midday light into the room.
“What time is it?” I whispered, semi-coherent.
“It’s just past noon, and we will be bringing the baby in shortly,” the nurse replied. My heart jumped the moment she started talking about her. The memories of the previous night flashed before me as the nurse’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “You’ll be happy to know she had a great night and is responding well to the formula.”
Even as the nurse spoke to me, I was still being carried away by this new feeling, an indescribable, overwhelming love that had been awakened when I really saw her for the first time.
“I’m so glad to hear that. When did you say you’d bring her to me?” I asked, longing to hold my baby again.
She stopped what she was doing and smiled at me. “Soon, I promise. We are also going to give you the papers to fill out for her birth certificate before long. Have y
ou decided on a name?”
“Yes. I did this morning. Her name is going to be Susan Joy.”
As the nurse opened the door to leave, I smelled perfume coming from the hallway and was startled by the distinct fragrance. My hands began to tremble as I set down my hairbrush. She walked into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. We were all alone, and our eyes locked.
“Hi, Chrissy.”
“Mom, what are you doing here!”
She had an unsure expression in her eyes as she took halting steps toward my bedside. Our gaze held, and I silently sent her a desperate plea for the touch I had been missing. In an instant, I felt her arms around me and melted into the secure feeling of love, as she pulled me into a tight embrace and leaned into me.
“The Hanleys called and told us that you went into labor. I needed to see you, Chrissy,” she whispered in my ear. I squeezed her even tighter, wishing I could stay like this forever. My mom pulled away slowly and sat in the chair next to my bed. There was an awkward silence as she scanned the room. She pulled back, visibly uncomfortable at the condition of the room I was in.
For the first time I saw the pain and hurt weighing on her. As she looked out the window, I nearly cried out, broken inside at the thought of how much I loved and longed for my baby, and how much my mom must love and long for me. I knew what had compelled her to come.
“Here she is!” The nurse’s cheery arrival was a blessing. She placed the little bundle into my outstretched arms. I pulled back the soft white blanket adorned with pale pink polka dots.
She’s even more beautiful than yesterday. A thick cap of shiny, jet-black hair covered her tiny head, surrounding her rosy cheeks. Her heart-shaped lips pursed as she let out a small cry.
Mom almost jumped up from her chair, but controlled the urge. When she got beside us, she leaned down as she whispered, “Chris, she’s so beautiful.”
Girl in the Song Page 13
