“Mom… I was unable to abandon them there.
My sixteen-year-old son told me that as he entered the room with two babies nestled next to him.
I never would have thought that life would strike me so hard.
Thérèse is my name. I’m forty-two years old, and the five years after my divorce have been quite difficult. Overnight, Brian departed, leaving Liam and me in a financial void and a suddenly too-quiet house.
My breath is Liam. He carried that silent pain, that void I could never fill, even after his father had left. I made an effort to shield him, but no mother can keep suffering hidden forever.
My son’s shaky voice echoed in the hallway as I heard the front door open on that typical spring afternoon.
“Mom… I must speak with you.
I froze as I followed him to his room.
He stood there with two small infants in his arms, their features placid and pink in hospital blankets.
“But, Liam, what is this?” With my heart thumping, I stumbled.
His eyes were oddly serene as he straightened his shoulders.
“Mom, I apologize. I was unable to abandon them.
Startled, I blinked.
“They’re… twins?”
I sat on his bed, unable to think, while my legs failed me.
“Liam, you’re sixteen! “Where did you get these babies?”
His voice was firm but low as he met my eyes directly.
I was devastated by the next five words he uttered.
Between weeping, it took me a few minutes to figure out what Liam was trying to express. He had seen his father hurrying out of the maternity unit at Harborview Hospital as he was waiting in the emergency room after going there with an injured buddy. He had an almost frightened expression on his face. Liam had not ventured to confront him. After a while, a nurse disclosed what Brian had been frantically concealing.
His girlfriend, Kara, had given birth to a boy and a girl the previous evening. She was in critical condition due to complications. Brian, on the other hand, had just left the hospital without signing a single form, denying any culpability.
I sat on the bed’s edge and gazed at the two babies.
Are they your half-sister and half-brother, you say? My voice was hardly audible.
Liam gave a nod. “Mom, Kara is alone herself. She was crying when I found her. She pleaded with me to keep the infants while she recovered.
I was prepared to scream at him, to tell him that a sixteen-year-old who had two babies cannot simply leave a hospital. He cut me off, though, saying, “She signed a temporary release.” Everything was approved by Mrs. Diaz from the nursery. She is familiar with you.
When the baby girl opened her eyes, the words I wanted to say vanished. All my certainty was broken in a single second.
We returned to the medical facility. Breathless, Kara muttered a feeble apology.
“I wanted to keep them out of foster care.” I lost Brian. I was alone.
Her remaining strength was depleted over the course of the following few days. She died a week later, leaving us to guard two lives and a future that was radically different.
One thing became clear to me that night when Liam held the twins close: the collapse I had long feared was really just the beginning. Ours had just been rebuilt by two small heartbeats.
