Читать книгу ALWAYS IS FOREVER - Margaret Hawley - Страница 3

One final push then I heard a baby wail. “Is that my baby? Let me see my baby.” I struggled to sit up, but I could not see around the nurse. “Oh, please let me see my baby, please,” I pleaded. No one spoke; they went about their business of cleaning the newborn baby. Then a nurse carrying the crying infant swaddled in a blanket rushed out the door without me getting a glimpse of what was in the tiny bundle.

“I know I can’t keep the baby, but surely I can have one look at it. Please let me follow that nurse and see my baby.” I began crying hysterically. “I don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl. Someone please tell me.”

The doctor came over to me and took my hand. “Your baby was a boy, Marcie. You agreed to give the baby up for adoption, and it’s best that you don’t see him. You will only feel worse and possibly doubt your decision. I’m going to give you something to calm you down now.” He put a needle in my arm, and I drifted off into a peaceful blankness.

When I heard my baby’s first cry, for an instant my heart was filed with joy, knowing my baby had entered the world. However, that joy quickly turned to heartache when I was not allowed to see him. I realized when he was whisked from the room that, although he had entered the world, he had not entered my world, that I would never see him nor know anything about him, that his adoptive parents would nurture and love him in my place. Little did I know that one day in the future this baby would be an instrument of great sorrow for me and my family.

Growing up in a secure and loving home, I was totally unaware of the crucibles I would have to face in the years ahead. My childhood years with my parents and the responsibilities that were often placed upon me for the care of my younger sister and brother helped to develop the resilience I would need to endure those crucibles.