The child’s fingers curled into themselves, the soft pink hands resting lightly beside her head. She was sleeping, her tiny mouth slightly opened and her long eyelashes brushing her cheeks. My burning gaze traced up and down her body, the only sign that I was feeling any emotion at all. I traced over her plump cheeks and little button nose with a tender look while my heart was throbbing painfully inside my chest. The soft pink mouth, the wispy blonde hair that crowned her head were all so familiar yet so unknown to me. She was the perfect baby, the child that I had envisioned for the past nine months. Everything was as I thought it would be, from the faint blue veins running over her eyelids to the minuscule nails with their uniform white crescents. I pressed myself against the window, my palms pushing against the glass as I willed the barrier to break down. I wanted my baby and I was never going to get her.
Chris’ eyes almost popped out of their sockets the day I told him what I intended to do. It was just as I had anticipated, his initial surprise masking the disgust that would eventually show once he’d gotten over the news. To be honest, I did not wanted to tell him at all. But I couldn’t lie forever, not while I carry the seedling of a child in my body. I remembered distinctly the warm touch of his arms as he wrapped them around me, a gesture that I thought was his idea of a shield to soften the blows of his words on me.
"Why Bonnie?" he had asked, "there are other ways to do this."
I had no verbal reply but simply looked up at him with my eyes, pleading to him silently. It’s the only way to get my dream, my eyes said, their bright blue pupils misting over with tears. He had nodded and held on to me, surprising me with his sympathy.
“Aren’t you angry that the child isn’t yours,”I asked after a long silence.
“No,”he had said, running his fingers through my tangled hair, “it’s your body and you have the rights to do whatever with it.”
The comforting touch of his fingertips and the softness of his words made me cry. I had prepared myself to endure his anger, but this empathy was too much. I’d rather he scream and shout than being so nice.
“As long as I have your whole heart, then nothing else matters,” he had added.
I nodded and swore on my life that my whole heart will always be his. Little did I know that I was lying to him once again.