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Giving Her My Baby

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My mom would do anything for me. I know that. That’s why I didn’t want to stay here. She would never ask me to leave if she needed space.

“You’ve got your own life, Mom. You barely signed up for having one baby. I’m not going to push another on you.”

She pulls back with a look of shock on her face. “Eleanor Newman!” she snaps at me. “I might not have planned for you, but you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You bet your tush I’m going to be a part of my grandbaby’s life.”

I know I wasn’t a planned baby. She was fresh out of medical school and she fell in lust with a doctor at the hospital she used to work at. Soon into their fast love affair my mom knew he was no good. She broke it off with my biological father and soon after she found out she was pregnant with me. My father, or “sperm donor,” as I often refer to him, said he wanted nothing to do with me. He already had a family of his own.

He tried to get my mom to get rid of me, but my mom said she knew the moment she found out she was pregnant, I was meant to be her baby girl.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean it like that,” I tell her as guilt hits me. My mom never made me feel like a mistake. She loves me with her whole heart. I never longed for a dad because she loved me enough for two parents. I just didn’t want my life choices affecting her.

“I thought if I was going to start trying for a baby that maybe I should get a place of my own.” I’d been saving like crazy since I graduated from college. Pretty much all my checks go straight into my bank account so I can afford getting pregnant, along with taking a big chunk of time off once I finally have my baby.

“You’ll stay here. This is your home. You don’t have to do this alone. I know I work a lot, but I can help when I’m here.” I see the determination in my mom’s eyes. She isn’t going to back down.

“Okay. I’ll stay.” Some tension leaves my body, because I know that I won’t be doing this alone. My mom gathers up all the real estate listings and throws them in the trash, only leaving behind the packet about artificial insemination.

I reach down and pick it up. The pages are worn because I’ve read them over and over. I’ve kept it in a folder hoping that I wouldn’t ever have to use it. That one day I’d find the perfect guy and I wouldn’t need it. But I’m sick of waiting.

I know part of it is my fault. I’m painfully shy when it comes to men. The only time I seem to be okay around them is when I’m working. And that’s probably because they’re all married.

My mom comes walking back into the dining room and picks up the box of pastries before sitting down at the table.

“I’ve already made an appointment,” I admit.

“I figured.” She smiles over the top of her coffee cup before taking a sip. She’s always two steps ahead of knowing what I’m about to do. I hope that’s a skill I pick up with my own child.

“I’m going to keep taking jobs until I get pregnant,” I add, hoping it only takes a few tries. I want to save as much money as I can so I can stay out of work longer once the baby finally arrives. I smile thinking about that moment.

I turn the brochure over and see a happy couple on the back holding their baby. A lump forms in my throat. I love my mom and the family we have. It’s only the two of us and I loved my childhood. But I’d be a liar if I said I’m completely okay with doing this on my own.

I want it all. To be head over heels in love with a man who wants a family with me as much as I do, but that’s just fairy-tale thinking.

“You’ll find him one day. You won’t even be looking and he’ll be there.” I look back up at my mom, who’s studying me.

She never dated. Heck, I’ve never even seen her show interest in a man. It was always work and me, with not much else. She always seemed more than happy with it, so why can’t I be, too?

I shrug, not wanting to talk about a man who might not even be real. What I can focus on is getting my baby.

2

Ella

“This is Ella,” I say as I pick up my cell phone from my nightstand. I already know who it is because I have a ringtone set just for the agency.


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