In my medication induced sleep, I dreamt
of a fantasy-like future complete with a house full of joy, happy marriage and
a picket fence. At around 7 the next
morning, I was awakened by my ringing cell phone and my reality.
I knew who was at the other end of the
phone line without checking, but the few moments that it took to look at my
caller ID gave me a brief moment to decide what I would say once I answered.
“Hi honey,” came my husband’s voice;
followed by a rush of questions, “Did
you have the baby? Is it a girl or
boy? Did you decide on a name? …Oh babe,
I wish I was there!”
“Nick, we have a daughter. I uh…I haven’t named her yet.”
Nick
was quiet for a few moments and I could hear him sniffle as if trying to
contain his emotions. When he finally
gathered himself, he whispered dreaded words that should have been so sweet…but
in actually hurt as if I’d been hit in the womb. “I bet she’s beautiful like you.”
My eyes filled with tears and I felt as
if my breath had totally left my body. I
could hear my heart pound into my ears as I said the next few words…“She has
a…” I stopped; unwilling to hear myself say the words that would come next.
“She has a what? She has a what Diane!” Nick's words were urgent; full of anxiety and
nervous anticipation. I wanted to tell
him the truth, but I couldn’t…so I lied.
“She has a beautiful face…she’s perfect.”
I could hear Nick’s sigh of relief on the other end. This time he didn’t hold back the
emotion between his words as he spoke in a shaky voice, “I’ll be home tomorrow. I love you Di.”
“I love you too,” I whispered before
ending the call.
I stared at the phone for a while after
hanging up…wanting more than anything for our new life to be every bit as
perfect as the lie that I had just painted for my husband.
I sat up with some hope in my heart. Maybe our life could still be what I’d hoped
it was. I recalled the first few moments
after the nurse put our daughter into my arms…in that instant, she was beautiful…vibrant…perfect.
No matter what…she’s a part of us and I
was sure that in time…her flaws would be invisible through our eyes as we
looked at her with nothing but love.
With that dream running through my head,
I called the nurse. “I want to see my
daughter,” I said; my words greeted by an unmistakable expression of relief on
the nurse’s face.
“OK,”
she said, quickly grabbing a wheel chair.
On the way to the nursery, I spotted a
proud new dad staring at his new baby through the nursery window.
I envied the love that filled his face
and I tried to picture my husband Nick standing there in his place. What
would Nick’s expression be if he was standing there looking at our daughter?
Inside the nursery, my baby was wide
awake. She was alert and looking around
with her one eye; the other once again covered in gauze.
I turned toward the nurse, “Can I have a
moment alone?”
“Sure,” she answered; surely happy at the
possibility of me finally bonding with my daughter. “Just let the other nurse know when you’re
ready to return to your room.”
I stared at my child and I realized that
I hadn’t completely lied to Nick…she was beautiful, but my eyes still filled
with tears because I couldn’t help but picture what was hidden beneath the
gauze.
My husband would be coming home
tomorrow. What would I do and say when
he found out that I had lied…that our child wasn’t perfect?
This baby needs a name. From the time I was a little girl, I dreamt
of having a beautiful daughter and naming her Carmina
…a name fit for a princess.
But no matter how optimistic I tried to
be…the name just didn’t fit this baby. I
would have to come up with another.
Just then…the baby in the bassinet next
to mine whined quietly and began to stir.
I had not even seen it there before.
I looked over and my breath caught in my
chest.
She was easily the prettiest little baby
I had ever seen. I felt drawn to
her. I wanted to touch her…to hold
her.
After a quick glance over my shoulder;
noting that the nurse was occupied with another baby, I worked my wheelchair
over to the other bassinet.
This baby had a pretty honey colored
complexion; impossibly smooth for a newborn baby. She had wisps of brown soft hair and her
eyes…her two eyes were beautiful, full of life
and innocence.
I quickly became obsessed with this
baby. “Hi Carmina,”
I said to the baby; lifting her out of the bassinet as if she were my own.
I glanced over at my own baby once
again…and again tried to imagine the future.
The picture was now gone. I
couldn’t see it…I couldn’t see her as a part of it.
I turned back to Carmina
and kissed her on her soft sweet smelling cheek.
As if she already knew me, she laid her
tiny head on my shoulder and began to drift off to sleep. My heart
involuntarily filled with love for her…like some sort of cruel joke.
Reluctantly, I put her back into the
bassinet; afraid that the nurse in charge of the nursery would catch me holding
this baby.
I had to leave her there, but I didn’t
want to. I never wanted to leave her.
Without even bothering to inform the
nurse, I started toward the door to the nursery on my own.
My heart aching, I did not even look back
at my own child.
I rolled the wheelchair right up to my
hospital bed and helped myself into it.
I sat there for a while with all sorts of
thoughts running through my head…thoughts that I’m now ashamed to admit.
Whether I care to admit them or not, all
the thoughts led to one conclusion and at the time it made all the sense in the
world…
…I had to take that beautiful baby
home.
Labels: I Stole Evil
