by Heidi Lis
Hearing his cries, I’m frantically trying to get a look at him. They took him right away, acting as if he’s not at all mine. They know he’s being given up for adoption, and I’m strangled with the possibility they may never let me see him. His arms and legs move wildly, every cry escaping his mouth is a dagger piercing my heart. He’s not just a baby, no, this baby is mine. No matter if it’s only for a short time.
With every tear that descends my cheeks, they are filled with joy and pain, each just as strong having to accept what will never be. I’m alone, frightened, and at the moment, having my heart ripped to shreds. Finding out he’s a boy after all this time, hurts a bit more. The idea of knowing Micah has a son unsettles me more. I can picture them together, holding hands, playing ball. Realizing this will never happen, I slowly try to distance my emotions. To survive this alone, I’ll have to try like hell to numb every emotion I know will hit me like a tidal wave.
The moment he tore his way into the world, he made his presence known. He was energetic and lively. A full head of hair from what few glances I had of him. The nursing staff paid little or no attention to me. They just carried on charting his apgar scores, never once pausing to update me on his condition. Unlike most other mothers in the delivery unit, I’ve got no husband, no boyfriend, or even a mom with me.
No, my parents made this decision for me. They went ballistic when I informed them I was indeed pregnant, at sixteen. Repeatedly, they told me I was too young for the responsibility of raising a child alone. No way could I care for a baby when I was a mere child myself. Micah’s leaving, forced my hand to do this by myself. He had left right before I found out. Shocked, surprised and out of my mind scared, I had hoped I could find comfort and understanding, with my parents by my side. Well, I was dead wrong and being an only child, I had no one else. That made me miss my grandparents even more. My grandmother, Faye, she would have stood by my side without question, but my reality was what it was. No close friends, I spent what free time I had with Micah.
No amount of time could have prepared me for, the looks on my parents faces. To say I was a disappointment, well that would have been a notch higher from what they felt right then. With not an ounce of understanding, they informed me my baby will be their dirty little secret. They devised up a plan to not embarrass them further. Not a few days later, they stopped bickering with one another and joined forces to isolate me from my life as I knew it.
They pulled me out of school, home-schooled me, and by the time I was starting to show, they shipped me to my aunt Peggy’s house a mere fifty miles away. They called it a ‘six-month vacation.’ Who the hell were they kidding? This was no six-month vacation! I was isolated to the four walls of my room, sterile white, of course. Most days I hid away watching television or reading books. When my dear aunt returned home from work, I went straight to my room. Less hassle that way. The days were long, and the nights were even longer. I never felt more alone. They were hiding me until I gave birth and gave my baby to the adoption agency. My aunt, civil at best, was as warm as my parents were. Peggy wholeheartedly agreed with them. To her, I was a loose girl who found herself knocked up by an older boy. When in reality, they had it backwards. I was a girl in love, and yes, although not planned it still happened. Life happens, and not always according to plan, either.
I tried time and again to explain to them; that Micah was no boy crush. He was my other half, I knew it, and had even explained it to Micah himself one afternoon. The reason I knew was simple, I’ve always believed whenever I found my soul mate, my reason for breathing, I would feel it all the way to my bones. It’s a feeling not easily pushed aside or thrown away. It’s there, and it grows until it reaches your soul, forever leaving its mark. Micah did all of that and more. No amount of time or space between us could ever touch or undo what I felt for Micah Taylor. To put it simply, he was the one. I didn’t care if I was sixteen or sixty, I knew it to be true.
The hard facts were, a loving couple would teach my little boy all the things Micah and I wouldn’t. They would wipe his tears when he cries, teach him to walk and write. In my mind, he would grow up being the spitting image of Micah. Although somewhat sad, it’s this thought that comforted me over the last few very lonely months. Our baby could not be with us, but at least he’d be alive. Just knowing he’s out there meant that Micah and I existed. We loved one another enough to create him. He’s my proof that love does exist.
Later that night, my depression and sobs tore through my body in a fit of shakes. Not having one single moment throughout my pregnancy of feeling love or even being wanted has left its mark. Scars on the outside now match the scars on the inside. I’ve now lost my last connection with him…forever gone. During my last trimester, I spent time running my hands over my basketball of a belly knowing a part of Micah was inside me. This connection and bond kept me comforted when I felt my heart and soul losing its grip on reality.
My door gradually opened as my nurse, Alisha Harkins, walked in, pausing to look behind her making sure she came into my room unseen.
“Elsa, sweet girl, I could not forgive myself if I let them take your son without you holding him, at least once.”
Walking over to stand next to my bed, as if it’s a natural thing, she hands me the baby cradled in her arms. My eyes fight back tears of nervousness, and my breathing ceased when I saw the baby in a pink hat. Confused, because my heart wished for a baby, but not this baby. My heart ached for a baby boy. Looking up at her utterly confused, I’m not sure why she mixed up the babies. Did she forget I had a boy? With a shake of my head, looking at her I ask, “I don’t understand, why did you bring me this little girl?” Keeping my voice soft making sure not to wake the baby in her arms.
Her eyes welled with tears. “No sweet child, this is your baby. The adoption agency had us put a pink hat on him so you could not pick him if you went to the nursery. It’s protocol in situations like these. He’s your baby boy. He needed to be sure who is real mommy is before the agency picks him up in the morning.”
She barely finished speaking when her tears now matched my own. Knowing she was most likely putting her job on the line, for what…a sixteen-year-old girl? I could not have loved her anymore at this moment. No amount of telling her how thankful I was could ever be enough. No amount of hugs could match it, either.
“Oh my God, you did this for me?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of my baby. “He’s so beautiful.” I had to admit, he was cute as a button. Gently rocking him in my arms, I trace his little hand with my finger. The instant he feels my touch, he reached out and grabbed a hold. Tightening his grip unleashed a new set of tears and shivers as every emotion I can think of washes over me. He’s holding onto my finger as if it’s his lifeline, it’s a feeling I’ll never forget. No one will ever take this moment from us, not my parents, not the doctors, no one. This is my moment to savor, my son, my little boy. Watching him grasping my finger, I freaking love it and my heart rate spikes to an all-time high.
My once flowing tears of sorrow, morphed into happiness. Cradling him close, I kiss his head, and inhale his new born scent. My body easily recognizes him, it aches for him. Tightness burns my midsection, my uterus contracts, and my boobs throb they hurt so badly. I don’t waste a minute telling him how much I love him, how much I hate that he’s being taken from me. I even break open my heart more, telling him all about his daddy. When Micah’s name escapes my lips, I’m haunted by the fact he has no idea he even has a son. Oh, God… Micah… please forgive me for what I’m being forced to do… Know I had no choice.
As my mind is consumed with Micah, I look into my son’s eyes, and I rely on every ounce of strength I have to tell him the things Micah would never get the chance to. “One day, you will be just like your daddy. He’s the most remarkable person I know. He doesn’t know about you, but I know he would love you as much as I do.” My continual, vast-flowing tears make it difficult to see his cute little face. His cheeks are so big he looks like a cherub. Somewhat ch
uckling, I remember back to my own baby pictures. I had the same cheeks. He’s darling, just damn perfect.
Nurse Harkins, hardly says a word, she’s allowing us to have this uninterrupted time. Walking out of the room, she periodically comes back to check on us. She even let me feed him, while she takes care of her other patients. She’s truly an angel.
“Oh sweetie, I see a lot of new mothers every day. Most days, this is the best job to have, to see a new life come into this crazy world. Unfortunately, a few of those new moms I don’t have a lot of confidence in. It’s hard for me to put into words to explain this the right way. The hardest part is being more excited about the moment when the mother you’re helping seems not as overjoyed. Those situations are few, but they do happen. You’re the exception, though. It’s bittersweet, more of a tragedy. All alone, having no one by your side. I don’t know your story, and you don’t need to tell me. It’s written all over your face, in your eyes, and it spills out of you with every word you say to your son. You would have made an incredible mother, and one day I hope you do. For now, though, God, has another plan. You are doing the best you can child, and I’m so proud of you. Takes a hell of a lot of courage to sit here knowing your time is limited with him, yet you are making sure he knows how much you love him. Keep it with you, always.”
GASPING FOR AIR and drenched with sweat, I sit up straight in bed and reach for my throat. I had not dreamt of that night for a while, but I’m sure seeing Micah is why I’m having it tonight. How do I tell him? Do I tell him or do I never say a word? I’ve got no clue, and right now, I don’t want to think about it. I’m desperate to lie down and remember what it felt like to have him in my arms, having him reach out for my finger. I’m going to do just what Nurse Harkins told me to do… ‘keep him with you, always.’
Closing my eyes, I whisper, “Good night Michael, my baby, my son…always and forever.”
NOT THAT BIG OF a surprise, I called in sick the following morning. Liza never made it back home, but I had assumed she made it into work. Dr. Davis was, as ususal, concerned and instructed me to rest. I told him I had been up all night not feeling well. At least, that part was accurate. I spent the whole day in bed with my phone off. No one bothered to check up on me, and I was thankful for it because I needed to be alone.
Unfortunately, the days that followed were not as quiet. Nick called non-stop and saw me every minute he could. Liza was being nice, just not around much. She even kept her distance at work. Everyone at the office could easily pick up on the visible tension between us. I didn’t say a word, though. Sometimes saying nothing is best. Micah had left me alone, and to say I’m relieved would be an understatement.
I woke up each day, went to work, even ate dinner with Nick a few nights, mainly because he kept harping at me. Then I made sure I went to bed alone, further disappointing him. I felt no desire to be close to him, or anyone for that matter. I just needed my space. Little by little, it seemed I was withdrawing back to the darkness I’ve fought so hard to escape.
I’ve survived the longest, most awkward week in history. Being forced to eat, sleep and work in this bizarre twist of fate, Liza and I find ourselves in, is beyond mind blowing. The days following that night after Micah left me alone in my room have left me speechless and utterly confused. It seems we are all walking on egg shells, because everyone is afraid of hurting someone else’s feelings. Either that or none of us know what the hell to say to each other. I’ll go with the last one. I have no clue what to even say to my roommate. She has this nervous energy that is starting to drive me crazy. Nick is standoffish at best, slowly pulling back from me and mostly, I’m letting him.
I’m sure Micah has not mentioned our kiss to Liza, because if he had, she would have said something to me by now. To make it even worse, she invited Micah and Nick over for dinner. Since Liza can only cook grilled cheese sandwiches, I volunteered to cook. But I have an ulterior motive. I figured if I cooked, I’d keep busy. The busier I am, the less likely I would be uncomfortable making small talk with Micah. Damn, this night’s going to suck. I can only imagine how hard it’s going to be being in the same room with him. The only thing my mind can do is remember that damn kiss. I swear my lips still tingle at the memory of his sizzling lip smacking. Jesus!
A knock at the door alerts me, that this most awkward night, is about to begin.
Staying busy in the kitchen, like I’d planned, is working so far. My damn nerves have me self-conscious, looking over my shoulder constantly while getting the lettuce and tomatoes out of the refrigerator. Letting my favorite song play in my mind, I’m bopping and whistling around the kitchen, not noticing I’m no longer alone.
Rubbing his hands, Nick seems ready to help me out rather than be in the other room. “Oh, can I help you chop the salad?”
I can’t help smiling at his pleasant face. He’s pretending to be excited, even though, we are all feeling awkward. I'm so glad he’s here. He has that calming effect on me. Picking up a knife, he helps me finish the salad. We laugh making small talk. Chopping the last of the celery, I notice he’s leaning against the counter, watching my every move. Okay, that’s not helping my nerves at all.
I ignore his stare. “I got it, thank you for the help. You can just stand there and stare at me or sit down. It’s weird they are watching TV,” I whisper, pointing my knife toward the living room. “And you are standing in the kitchen with me.”
“Pointing that knife around while thinking about him.” Nick sighs rather loudly. “Got to be honest, makes me nervous.” He says biting his lower lip to contain his laugh.
His attempt at humor is pretty funny, but then again not.
“No worries,” I give him a half turned up smile. “I have no desire to cut anything other than the salad.”
“Pfft, please.” He says with a roll of his eyes.
Dropping the knife on the counter, I say, “Try to mingle, talk, have some fun.” Saying the word fun, just seems odd. Who the hell thinks this is fun, more like torture? At the same time we laugh.
Suddenly, in walks Liza. Well, it’s more like stomping her feet. “Okay, this is not working. We are in there, and you two are hiding out in the kitchen. The idea was for us all to get along, and find some common ground. I want us all to be friends here.” Addressing Nick, but her eyes are centered on me. What can I say? I’m the cook. I’m where I should be.
Opening my mouth to say something my eyes lock on Micah, who walks up behind Liza, most likely wondering what we are talking about.
“Hey,” holding up my hands, I argue. “I’m cooking you all dinner. I’m not hiding or avoiding anyone. If you all want to chat, come on in, but stay out of my way. I’ve got garlic bread to make.”
“Love your garlic bread, El. I remember it, oddly enough.” Micah blurts out . The only issue is the fact it’s been years since I made it for him.
All eyes snap to him, and he shrugs it off. “Hey, sorry, but it’s true. She made it for me a few times at my house. My whole family ate it.”
His explanation adds to the shock and blank expressions staring back at him.
“Look,” Micah huffs clearly frustrated. “If we are all going to be around each other, we need to get over the fact that Elsa and I know one another. The depth of our relationship is not relevant.”
To hear him say it like that, does make sense, so I nod agreeing. The visible one not agreeing happens to be standing next to me, and he’s really not happy. His fists are balled tight, he’s shifting his weight side to side, and he looks like he’s ready to start a fight. I brace for whatever Nick is going to say.
“Yeah,” Nick’s immediate growl doesn’t surprises me. “If you believe that crock of shit, good for you. Knowing you have slept with both of my friends here, just doesn’t settle well with me.”
Listening to Nick’s honesty, makes this situation sound so much worse. Why did he have to bring that up? We may not even make it to dinner. By the looks of Liza’s face, he’s got her all wound up.
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br /> “Jesus Nick,” Liza’s so shocked, she slaps his chest. “Thanks for reminding me. For fuck’s sake.”
It’s easy to see her mind’s spinning out of control with the fact I had a relationship with her boyfriend. Trust me, I’ve played it out in my mind. Knowing Micah’s been intimate with her after we’ve been together is a difficult pill to swallow. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I decide to speed things up, getting this night to end without bloodshed. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can call it a night.
Like I predicted it would be, this night is a train wreck in the making. Everyone has stopped talking. It is driving me insane.
“This dinner is just dandy. Exactly what we all needed, feeling the love already.” My sarcasm is evident as I butter the bread, adding the garlic heavier than I intended.
Micah laughs so hard and we all look at him like he’s lost his mind, but I can’t help join in. Of course, Liza and Nick never even smirk.
“Shit, this is classic,” Micah says with one last hefty laugh. “Come on you two. Elsa and I are chilled out. If you two were wound up any tighter, you might explode.”
Nick’s mouth gapes open in shock. “Really, fucking funny dude.”
Flicking his hand, Micah dismisses his comment. “Nothing funny man, just trying to see if this shit will work or not.” Raising his eyebrow, Micah finishes with a shrug of his shoulder.
Turning to leave the kitchen, Liza looks back over her shoulder, “I’ve lost my appetite.”
I want to yell at her that is was her idea to begin with.
I’m annoyed with everyone, Micah and Nick are glaring at one another in some sort of standoff. I’m trying to keep my composure and not flip out, so I bite my lip so hard, it’s on the verge of bleeding. I want to get their attention, so I drop my knife rather loudly. My ploy worked perfectly. All sets of eyes snapped my way.
