A Mother's Choice

by Kristin Noel Fischer

  All my love,

  Nadine Kingsley

  *

  On the day I went into labor, I rose early and cooked breakfast for Eleanor and the boys. Working in the kitchen calmed me and gave me hope everything would be okay.

  Eleanor woke first and joined me at the stove. “Are you feeling all right, Mother? Do you want me to finish cooking breakfast?”

  Eleanor had always called me “Mother.” Never Mama, Mommy, or Nadine, like Angela had done during one of her rebellious phases. Just Mother. Even in preschool, it was, “Mother, did you know caterpillars turned into butterflies?” and “Mother, guess who got four gold stars today?”

  “Mother?” Eleanor repeated.

  I forced a smile as a small contraction rolled through me. Today would be difficult, but once the baby was born and the paperwork signed, life would improve. “I’m fine, honey. Actually, I’m feeling good today, just a little uncomfortable. Go get ready for school, then come back to the kitchen and we’ll eat breakfast together.”

  Eleanor stood her ground, not believing a word I’d said. Following the accident, she’d assumed the role of a parent, something I regretted. But starting today, things would change.

  Eleanor would be sad to learn her new baby sister had died during childbirth, but Ruby would have a new baby, and we would all begin to heal from the tragedy of the past few months.

  Or maybe not.

  Maybe I’d move the children to Texas where my parents now lived, and we’d start a new life. Away from Seattle and all the memories. Away from Ruby and the daughter I was leaving with her.

  After the children left for school that morning, I called Father Tim to tell him I was in labor. He came over immediately and drove me to the hospital. “It really is for the best,” I said, as he pulled into the hospital parking lot.

  He held an expression of resignation but said nothing. Tim had been one of Jude’s best friends since high school, and he’d spent numerous hours praying with Ruby and Harold over their marriage. Surely, he understood how this was for the best.

  But as I entered the labor and delivery ward, I never imagined how things would work out. Never imagined my plan would fall apart, and I would live with the consequences the rest of my life.

  Childbirth at forty-one was much more difficult than it’d been in my younger years. While the contractions started slow, they rapidly increased, one on top of the other with no rest in between. I struggled to catch my breath, terrified my womb was tearing in half.

  After the baby was finally born, I collapsed against the pillow. Exhaustion overwhelmed me. The baby cried, and my chest clenched. I squeezed my eyes tight and focused on the image from my dream of Ruby standing next to her daughter in the church.

  Father Tim placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It’s a girl, just like you said.”

  I opened my eyes and nodded, relieved it was almost over.

  “Would you like to hold her?” one of the nurses asked.

  “No!” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded sharp and uncaring.

  The nurse shot Tim a look, but I turned away, refusing to see the judgment in her eyes. Nobody in this room could possibly understand what I’d been through. They couldn’t possibly understand the reasons behind my actions, and what compelled me to follow through with this painful plan.

  Nausea took ahold of me. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, which was becoming more difficult. A strange, icy cold fear wrapped around my windpipe and suddenly, I was suffocating. I gasped and thrashed about, but I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t get the air into my lungs.

  “Nadine?” Tim called. “Nadine? Are you okay?”

  The room spun, and I clenched the bed sheets. I tried to suck in air. Tried to gain control.

  Intense pain stabbed me over and over in the gut. I called for help, but the words got stuck in my throat and wouldn’t come out.

  “She’s not breathing,” someone shouted.

  An enormous weight slammed down on my chest, and I looked to see if something had fallen on top of me, but nothing was there.

  “Where’s the cart?” the doctor yelled.

  Tim grabbed my shoulder. “Hang on, Nadine. Hang on.”

  I shook my head because I didn’t care about hanging on anymore. What was the point? The baby was safely delivered, and my other children would be better off without me. “I’m ready,” I said, surrendering to the pain. “I’m ready.”

  “She’s fading!”

  “Don’t let go,” Tim screamed, his eyes fixed on mine.

  But I did. I let go and felt a rush of air as I fell from the cliff I’d been hanging onto since the accident.

  *

  Hours later, I opened my eyes to a dark and silent room. Shifting in the hospital bed, I winced at my stiff and sore body. A man dressed all in black slept in the chair next to my bed. Was he the grim reaper, come to take me, not to heaven but hell?

  My eyes adjusted and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Tim,” I whispered.

  The priest’s eyes shot open and he jumped to his feet. “Nadine, thank God.” He clasped my hands and brought them to his lips. “You scared me to death.”

  My throat was dry and cracked, but I pushed past the discomfort to ask the question that was most on my mind. “What happened?”

  He squeezed my hands tighter. “You almost died. You did die, technically. Do you remember?”

  I inhaled deeply, so grateful for the gift of oxygen. I remembered the delivery. Remembered the nurse asking if I wanted to hold my baby, and then … I let go.

  Tim poured a glass of water and handed it to me. I took several gulps before speaking. “What about the baby? Did you give her to Ruby?”

  He hesitated. “Nadine, darling, we need to talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this. I signed the papers. I gave her away. I told you …” But even as I said the words, I felt my resolve weakening. Was I seriously going to see this through?

  Tim nodded solemnly. “We followed your instructions, and everything went well.”

  “Ruby accepted the baby?”

  He smiled sadly. “She was overjoyed.”

  “And Harold?”

  “He cried when he held her. He called her a gift from God. I think he believes this baby will heal his marriage. He loves Ruby, you know. He just … stumbled.”

  Peace flooded my heart. I’d made the right decision after all, and in time, my soul would heal as well. “They don’t know where the baby came from, do they?”

  Tim shook his head. “Not right now. But they’re going to find out.”

  “No,” I insisted. “They won’t. I’ll tell everyone my baby didn’t make it. Ruby lost so many babies, she won’t give it a second thought. People lose babies all the time. You have to trust me on this—”

  “Nadine, listen to me.” The lines around his eyes deepened, and when he spoke, his voice shook. “There was another baby. You have another daughter.”

  “What?”

  “You gave birth to identical twins.”

  “Twins?”

  He nodded and my mind whirled with endless emotions – joy, fear, anxiety, elation, confusion …

  “The first baby was fine,” Tim explained, “but the second one had complications. She’s in the neonatal intensive care unit. There were some problems with her lungs, but she’s going to be okay.”

  I swallowed hard, imagining my baby, all by herself in the nursery, feeling abandoned. Suddenly my arms ached with the need to hold her. To hold this baby I didn’t even know existed. This miracle. “Can I see her?”

  He nodded and stood to get the doctor. Panic filled me, and I almost yelled for him to come back, but I didn’t.

  After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a matter of minutes, Tim returned with a nurse who helped me into a wheelchair. My heart pounded with anticipation as she pushed me down the hall to the nursery.

  “There she is,” Tim said, pointing to an incubator surrounded by machines and tubes
. At first, I didn’t see her among the technology of the day. But then, in the middle of everything, lay a tiny newborn. Tears pricked my eyes, and I clutched the collar of my gown. “That’s her? That’s my baby?”

  The nurse wheeled me forward and launched into a detailed explanation of my daughter’s medical needs. I tried to pay attention, but all I could think about was the fact that this was Jude’s baby. Jude’s baby … and she needed me.

  All my logic and well-thought out reasons of why I couldn’t raise another child crumbled. This was my daughter. Jude’s last gift, and I wanted her more than anything in the world.

  The nurse explained how I should hold the infant skin to skin. I tried to listen, knowing it was important, but all I could think about was my desire to keep and protect my baby.

  When I had her safely in my arms, pressed against my chest, I breathed in her sweet scent. My breasts tingled, and every part of me was willing to lay down my life for her.

  The nurse left and Tim sat beside me. “What are you going to name her?”

  A large tear slipped down my cheek, landing on the baby’s face. She scrunched her eyes but didn’t cry. I brushed off the wet tear with my fingertip and smiled. “What about Autumn? I’ve always liked that time of year. It’s full of new beginnings and hope.”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  We sat in peaceful silence, both of us gazing at the baby. Then Tim asked the difficult question. “What about her twin sister? The girls are identical. Ruby will know. She’ll find out.”

  “I just want to do what’s best.”

  Father Tim offered no answers, but he placed his hand on the baby’s head, closed his eyes, and offered a blessing. I closed my own eyes and prayed for peace, direction, and healing.

  Chapter 34

  Coming home from the hospital was one of the most difficult things I ever had to do. Jude had taken such good care of me after the birth of each child, but this time, I came home alone. I didn’t even have my newborn, Autumn Marie, since the pediatrician had insisted on keeping her longer.

  Leaving the baby at the hospital felt as though someone chopped off my arm. A part of me missed the first baby, but having twins was so unexpected, I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. Besides, Faith was with her mother where she belonged.

  That first night home, sleep eluded me. Tossing and turning in bed, I realized Tim was right. If I stayed in Seattle, Ruby would discover the truth, and that wasn’t something I could let happen. Seattle had been my home for a long time. I couldn’t imagine leaving, but staying was impossible.

  The move would thrill my parents, of course. The kids would be upset, and Tim would disapprove. Still, what else could I do? I had to leave and try to make a new life where nobody could discover what I’d done.

  With a plan in motion, I finally slept until the morning when Eleanor entered the bedroom, holding a tray of coffee and toast. Yesterday, she’d come to the hospital to see her baby sister. “We’re really going to keep her?” she asked, fixing me with her gaze.

  “Yes, of course.”

  She’d nodded and returned her attention to the baby. But her question stayed with me, and I wondered if she knew about Autumn’s twin.

  Now, in my bedroom, Eleanor opened the curtains. Bright sunlight streamed into my darkened sanctuary and I blinked. It was time for me to stop wallowing in my misery and take care of my children.

  Tossing back the covers, I sat up and threw my feet over the side of the bed. My body still ached from childbirth, and my heart remained damaged, but I was ready to get out of bed and move forward.

  Eleanor stared at me. “Can we go to the hospital and see Autumn today?”

  “Of course.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief, making me feel guilty for all my shortcomings as a mother. I walked into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. In the mirror, I gaped at my pale, sunken face. Then I looked myself right in the eye and said, “Nadine Rose, you’re going to survive. You’re going to take the remaining shards of your life and meld them together to make a new life. A life that will never compare to what you once had, but a life that your children deserve. A life that would honor Jude and Angela.”

  “Mom?”

  Michael’s voice startled me. He stood just outside my bathroom, looking rumpled and in desperate need of a haircut. He’d outgrown his pants, and I wondered when he’d gotten so tall.

  I smiled sadly. “Did you sleep in those clothes, sweetheart?”

  Embarrassment flashed across his face, and he smoothed a hand over his stained and wrinkled shirt. “Eleanor didn’t wash my clothes, so this is all I have.”

  Shame overtook me. He was depending on his little sister for clean laundry? How had I allowed things to get so bad? “I’m going to teach you and your brother how to do laundry this afternoon when you get home from school. You shouldn’t have to depend on others for clean clothes. Go gather all your dirty things, including your sheets.”

  He looked uncomfortable and turned his gaze to the floor. One big toe poked out of a hole in his sock.

  Stepping toward him, I brushed back his hair. “I’m sorry about everything. About how I haven’t been here for you. It’s going to get better. I promise.”

  He shrugged. “Can you tell Eleanor to stop inspecting my lunch every day? I can make a sandwich without my little sister’s help.”

  I frowned, saddened that Eleanor had taken on so much during my depression. “Of course.”

  Instead of sending my children to school that day, I kept them home with me, needing their presence. I made blueberry pancakes, and we ate a leisurely breakfast together before tackling the laundry and putting our house back together.

  A sense of hope filled me as I cleaned the refrigerator, wiped the counters, and swept the floor. There was something uplifting about engaging in household chores after neglecting them for so long.

  Next, I collected all the flowers sent by friends and parishioners. I brought them to the kitchen sink and dumped out the dirty water. The dead flowers went into the trash, but I managed to salvage enough to make one healthy looking bouquet that I placed on the center of the kitchen table.

  Standing back, I admired my work. The windows needed a good washing and Dan’s vacuuming wasn’t the best, but it was a start. While the dishwasher and washing machine hummed away, the kids retreated to their rooms, afraid I might assign them more chores. I smiled at the normalcy of it all.

  I looked through the kitchen window and stared at Ruby’s house. What would she say if I marched across the yard, knocked on the back door, and demanded to see the baby?

  I shook my head, knowing I needed to forget about her. That baby—Faith—belonged to Ruby. I had enough kids to worry about … enough problems of my own, and Ruby needed that child.

  Suddenly, Ruby’s back door opened. I held my breath as she stepped onto the porch with the baby in her arms. My chest clenched, and I made an unfamiliar wheezing sound.

  I had to see the baby. Had to hold her. Drawn by instinct, I stepped outside and strode across the grass. I had no idea what I would say or do, but staying away was impossible.

  At the edge of the porch, I hesitated, waiting to be acknowledged. Ruby looked up, and I feared she might go back inside without talking to me. To my relief, she pulled back the blanket so I could see the infant’s exquisite face. “Faith, this is Nadine Kingsley … my best friend.”

  Tears filled my eyes. There was so much I wanted to say, but I remained silent as I closed the distance between us. “She’s beautiful … so beautiful. May I hold her?”

  Ruby pressed the baby to her chest, causing the noose around my heart to yank tight. I breathed deeply, willing myself to let it go. This was not my baby. Not my baby. If her mother didn’t want me to hold her, that was okay.

  Hesitantly, Ruby passed the baby to me. My heart pounded as I took the infant and gazed into her eyes. Father Tim had been right. She was perfect.

  Silently, I sent her a secret message. Remember me, sweet one.
Remember me and be good for your mama.

  Ruby placed a hand on my forearm. “I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

  “That night you came over… I’m sorry I left. Until Father Tim gave me Faith, I could barely get out of bed. My doctors heavily medicated me, but this baby gave me back my life—gave me hope I could go on.”

  I nodded, knowing exactly how she felt. It was the baby, not me, who’d helped Ruby. No matter what happened, I couldn’t do anything to jeopardize Ruby’s relationship with her daughter.

  Gazing down at Faith, I knew this would be the last time I’d ever see her. I studied her every feature, taking in her upturned nose and perfect little cheeks. I was torn about leaving Seattle, but what else could I do? Staying would only lead to more heartbreak. If I wanted to help Ruby, she could never know the truth.

  “Tim told me you named your baby Autumn Marie,” Ruby said, interrupting my thoughts. “I like that.”

  I smiled. “Coming home without her has been difficult, but she’s going to be okay.”

  She placed a hand on top of mine. “I’m so relieved. And so happy our daughters will grow up to be best friends, like you and me.”

  I nodded, wishing it could be true. “And Harold? Is he okay with another baby?”

  Ruby’s eyes moistened. “Yes. And I’m trying to forgive him. I’m trying to remember without that night of indiscretion, I never would’ve had Eric.”

  She paused and wiped her eyes. “Even though losing our son has been excruciating, I’m so grateful for the years we had together. So grateful he was part of my life. And now I have this little bundle of joy …”

  Chapter 35

  My guests and I continued sitting around the kitchen table until Faith finished reading the missing pages from my mom’s journal. My twin sister looked across the table at Father Tim, then to Ruby on her right, and finally to me. “It’s incredible, isn’t it?”