drippedonpaper

(fiction)

It's not that I didn't think you were real. I knew from the beginning. I woke one morning and the smell of coffee flipped my stomach right out onto the floor. I was pretty sure, but was hoping you were a stomach virus. Please, please, I hoped I was sick. My heart hit the bottom of my feet, I swear it did, because if, if this meant what I thought it did, I knew what would have to happen.

I got your brother and sisters up. Lunches, reading logs signed, and all in the car. Drop the first at 5:45, the others at 6:15, and then it's the long drive to my job. I snuck some crackers in the car, because I was right where I had never planned to be. I didn't mean to need to decide about you. There wasn't going to be a you.

It wasn't easy. I didn't take pleasure in the selfish thought of getting rid of you. I used to think I'd have four kids. Just because I had given up on that dream didn't mean you weren't wanted. You were wanted, so wanted. But your siblings are wanted too, and they already had a firm claim on my heart and my checkbook and my time and my sleep. Hey, I was still sharing a bed with little Linda. She had night terrors, and we all needed some sleep.

You were the last good-bye of a marriage that should have ended long ago. I shouldn't have slipped up, but like so many other choices in my life, I had. And you would pay the price.

I couldn't choose you. Some would have said "more child support," but he wasn't paying it anyway. DHR hadn't had any luck either. I guess he was being paid in cash. I'm not sure. I also couldn't take the time off to give you a future. I couldn't afford daycare. I didn't know what to do. I only knew what I had no money to do.

You were loved. You were wanted. And though we only had a few weeks together, I ... I thought of you every day. I guess I always will.

I never told your siblings. Some burdens only parents should carry. Your dad never knew. I couldn't give him more ammunition to beat me with. And though it crossed my mind that he might care and suddenly step up and be a good dad, if he wouldn't do it for your siblings, living and breathing and hoping right in front of his face, I didn't see how a new baby would be more than a blip in a pan for me. A flurry of new promises that turned like all the soft confetti promises he spit, they always turned to stones, little B., stones that hurt me or the kids or anyone near by. Confetti promises, like all confetti, leave a mess that's really hard to clean up.

No, you little B., oh baby of mine, you're...you always will be just mine. I mean I guess the doctor knows. I did have to use my insurance (which I would have lost if I'd kept you, but had to go on bed rest like with your siblings.) I told your siblings I wasn't feeling well. They accepted that, and we went on. That was my only choice, Little B. We had to go on.

People say there are resources and there are. But we were already using them. There's only so far that I can stretch a free Thanksgiving meal. Free Beans and rice are great, but kids get tired of them. Maybe that's privilege to want different or maybe that was part of it, Little B. I was just so tired. I was already working three jobs, I don't see how I could make it happen with you. Heck, I don't know how many more months I can even go even without you. I'm pushing as far as I can. I have got to get these kids closer to adulthood. Then if they have a job, maybe we can make rent easier, in case the car breaks down. But then we will need to share a car. Oh man. I can't even imagine the future. Day by day, I have to just focus on today. I keep checking but I make $200 too much each month to qualify for food stamps. I juggle the budget both ways, but I'm just...I guess I'm too proud. I want to try to make it.

I'm not even sure your siblings will ever have a chance. Scholarships? College? I'm hoping. Here's to also finding a way to someday pay off my student loans.

But without you, without you maybe we can avoid eviction. Being just me and the kids is already the biggest leap of faith I know. I can't carry you too.

I wish I could. I even, I wish I could talk about you. I do feel it's too much. Too easy to misunderstand. I know so many who would never understand how I can go on without you.

I take no joy in this good-bye. I promise, Little B., somehow I'm gonna save for the copay and the time off to get my tubes tied. I swear I will. I can't do this again. Destroy a life. Or the chance of a life. I'm still looking so your siblings can have a chance at their lives.

It's just that night, that horrible night, I was so tired and he'd already chased the kids into the closet. I could hear them crying and then...I figured what the freaking heck, the divorce is almost over and we just couldn't take another night with police again. The shelters are always a short stay. The police never keep him long and the courts are slow.

And there you were. A blue line. My little B. forever.

My secret. If there is a g-d, I know I'll burn in hell, but it was the right choice. I had to love the babies in my arms first.

Sometimes I think you understand. You never knew a world of pain. I hope you got to go back to some nursery in the sky, to wait for other parents. I hope you got good ones the second time. I worried about that you know. Did I send you back and you were born to be a child bride or a child beggar?

I'll never know.

Sometimes the best gift is not knowing.

Please know I'll never forget you. I count your years of "would have been." And I try to forgive myself. I scrub the bathrooms at work extra hard. I hold my daycare babies on the weekends and smile at my students through the week. The only babies I can try to save are already alive. Do even these have a chance? It's hard to know.

You are loved. So loved. And, in love, I went on without you.