A Mother's Goodbye

‘Quiet,’ I hissed, and I marched, my head held high, my whole body trembling, all the way to our car, dragging Amy and Lucy with me. I buckled Lucy into her car seat while Amy flung herself into the front seat even though she knew it wasn’t allowed, and Emma climbed quietly into the back.

‘What are we going to eat?’ Amy demanded.

‘Be quiet, Amy,’ I snapped. ‘Be quiet. I need to think.’ I rested my hands on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, my heart still pounding hard from the whole horrible scene. I had no money. No food. Less than a quarter tank of gas in the car. Kev’s disability was gone, my income only covered our rent, and if I had this baby, we wouldn’t even have that. I laid my head on the steering wheel and closed my eyes.

I knew I could go back in, get the stuff the EBT card would pay for at least, but at that moment I couldn’t manage it. Not emotionally. Not even physically.

‘Mom…’ Emma sounded scared. ‘Mom, what’s wrong? Are you okay?’

‘I’m just tired.’ I ached with fatigue, with hopelessness. I couldn’t see a way through the darkness. I felt too tired even to try.

‘Mommy…’ Amy now, her defiance gone, and that made me feel even sadder. ‘Mommy, look up.’

And so I did, dredging up a smile with what felt like the very last of my strength. ‘It’s okay,’ I told my girls, trying to mean it. Something hardened inside me, and my voice came out stronger. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

That night I told Kev about the adoption idea, and he gave me that dead-eyed stare of his and shook his head.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘Don’t swear.’ He didn’t normally, not since we’d had kids. Amy was probably still awake; she was always the last one to drift off, and the whole shopping trip had unsettled her. We’d ended up eating plain spaghetti; Lucy had whined about wanting sauce. Amy and Emma had both eaten in silence, wide-eyed and frightened, and the misery I’d been feeling hardened all the more into resolve.

‘Adoption?’ Kevin hissed at me. ‘Our own child?’

‘I know.’ I bunched my fists, fighting tears. ‘I know. But you tell me what to do then, Kevin. You tell me how to fix this.’ I wanted to feel sorry for him. I always tried, but he made it so hard sometimes, parking himself in that chair and staring at the TV for hours on end, never offering a suggestion, a solution. I knew he was hurting and frustrated, maybe even depressed. I knew, and yet sometimes that wasn’t enough.

‘If we give this baby up for adoption,’ I continued in a low, steady voice, ‘the adoptive couple will pay all the costs. Contribute to our living expenses, too, at least a little.’ Although I wasn’t thinking of a couple. I recalled Grace Thomas’s profile, that faint, sure smile. In my mind she was already the adoptive mother, not one of those smug couples who already had everything.

Kev shook his head. ‘What the hell are we supposed to tell people?’

‘The truth: that we can’t afford another baby and we want to give someone else a chance to be a parent.’ Saying the words felt like swallowing bits of broken glass, but I was determined now. I couldn’t put my girls through another day like today; I couldn’t put myself through it. Kevin made a sound of disgust.

‘What else am I supposed to do?’ I demanded in a low voice. He couldn’t have it both ways. He couldn’t act like I had to deal with it on my own and then get mad when I did. ‘Do you want me to have an abortion? Is that it? I’m already fifteen weeks. I’ll feel the baby kick any day now.’ My voice choked, and I sucked in a hard breath. Those little flutters would just about kill me.

‘An abortion?’ Kevin looked genuinely horrified, and then he shook his head. ‘Heather, no. No! I’d never want that. Our own kid…’

‘I know you wouldn’t.’ I was relieved that he’d said it, because even though this felt like the hardest thing I’d ever done, I knew that would be harder. ‘But what then, Kev? Tell me what to do.’ For a second I let myself remember the way he was when I told him I was pregnant with Emma, seventeen and scared. He’d pulled me into a hug, my head tucked under his chin. ‘Then we’ll just have to get married,’ he’d said, making it sound so wonderfully simple. I felt so safe in that moment, safe and happy, sure of my future. Our future.

But now, fourth time around, Kevin just stared at me for a long moment and then he dropped his head into his hands with a sound like a moan. It was the opposite of everything I hoped for, and it brought me near to tears.

‘Kevin…’

‘I fucking hate this.’ His voice was low but not angry. Angry I was used to, angry I took on the chin and soldiered on with slumped shoulders, and right then I’d have preferred it to the despair I heard in his voice, the despair he usually tried to hide. ‘I fucking hate that I’m stuck in this stupid chair, that I can’t even provide for my fucking family.’ He raised his head and then he took the remote control resting on the arm of the chair and hurled it at the TV.

Thankfully it missed, causing a dent in the wall rather than one in our TV. He winced and sagged against the chair, and I knew he’d strained his back just by that one movement.

‘This isn’t your fault, Kevin.’ I picked up the remote control and put it back on the arm of the chair. ‘You had an accident and you can’t work…’ Even if sometimes I wish he’d just try.

‘Tell that to the fucking lawyers.’

‘Please don’t swear.’

He looked away and I continued steadily, ‘This doesn’t have to be a bad thing.’ I knew I was speaking to myself as much as to him. ‘We’d be making someone happy. This child would have a great life, and we could give our girls the lives they deserve too. Everybody wins.’

‘

Sure as hell doesn’t feel like winning to me.’

‘Breaking even, maybe. I don’t see any other way, Kev. I really don’t. And the truth is…’ It hurt to say it, but I knew I needed to. ‘We need the money. All the costs would be covered, plus some living expenses.’