No amount of time could have prepared me for, the looks on my parents faces. To say I was a disappointment, well that would have been a notch higher from what they felt right then. With not an ounce of understanding, they informed me my baby will be their dirty little secret. They devised up a plan to not embarrass them further. Not a few days later, they stopped bickering with one another and joined forces to isolate me from my life as I knew it.

They pulled me out of school, home-schooled me, and by the time I was starting to show, they shipped me to my aunt Peggy’s house a mere fifty miles away. They called it a ‘six-month vacation.’ Who the hell were they kidding? This was no six-month vacation! I was isolated to the four walls of my room, sterile white, of course. Most days I hid away watching television or reading books. When my dear aunt returned home from work, I went straight to my room. Less hassle that way. The days were long, and the nights were even longer. I never felt more alone. They were hiding me until I gave birth and gave my baby to the adoption agency. My aunt, civil at best, was as warm as my parents were. Peggy wholeheartedly agreed with them. To her, I was a loose girl who found herself knocked up by an older boy. When in reality, they had it backwards. I was a girl in love, and yes, although not planned it still happened. Life happens, and not always according to plan, either.

I tried time and again to explain to them; that Micah was no boy crush. He was my other half, I knew it, and had even explained it to Micah himself one afternoon. The reason I knew was simple, I’ve always believed whenever I found my soul mate, my reason for breathing, I would feel it all the way to my bones. It’s a feeling not easily pushed aside or thrown away. It’s there, and it grows until it reaches your soul, forever leaving its mark. Micah did all of that and more. No amount of time or space between us could ever touch or undo what I felt for Micah Taylor. To put it simply, he was the one. I didn’t care if I was sixteen or sixty, I knew it to be true.

The hard facts were, a loving couple would teach my little boy all the things Micah and I wouldn’t. They would wipe his tears when he cries, teach him to walk and write. In my mind, he would grow up being the spitting image of Micah. Although somewhat sad, it’s this thought that comforted me over the last few very lonely months. Our baby could not be with us, but at least he’d be alive. Just knowing he’s out there meant that Micah and I existed. We loved one another enough to create him. He’s my proof that love does exist.

Later that night, my depression and sobs tore through my body in a fit of shakes. Not having one single moment throughout my pregnancy of feeling love or even being wanted has left its mark. Scars on the outside now match the scars on the inside. I’ve now lost my last connection with him…forever gone. During my last trimester, I spent time running my hands over my basketball of a belly knowing a part of Micah was inside me. This connection and bond kept me comforted when I felt my heart and soul losing its grip on reality.

My door gradually opened as my nurse, Alisha Harkins, walked in, pausing to look behind her making sure she came into my room unseen.

“Elsa, sweet girl, I could not forgive myself if I let them take your son without you holding him, at least once.”

Walking over to stand next to my bed, as if it’s a natural thing, she hands me the baby cradled in her arms. My eyes fight back tears of nervousness, and my breathing ceased when I saw the baby in a pink hat. Confused, because my heart wished for a baby, but not this baby. My heart ached for a baby boy. Looking up at her utterly confused, I’m not sure why she mixed up the babies. Did she forget I had a boy? With a shake of my head, looking at her I ask, “I don’t understand, why did you bring me this little girl?” Keeping my voice soft making sure not to wake the baby in her arms.

Her eyes welled with tears. “No sweet child, this is your baby. The adoption agency had us put a pink hat on him so you could not pick him if you went to the nursery. It’s protocol in situations like these. He’s your baby boy. He needed to be sure who is real mommy is before the agency picks him up in the morning.”

She barely finished speaking when her tears now matched my own. Knowing she was most likely putting her job on the line, for what…a sixteen-year-old girl? I could not have loved her anymore at this moment. No amount of telling her how thankful I was could ever be enough. No amount of hugs could match it, either.

“Oh my God, you did this for me?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of my baby. “He’s so beautiful.” I had to admit, he was cute as a button. Gently rocking him in my arms, I trace his little hand with my finger. The instant he feels my touch, he reached out and grabbed a hold. Tightening his grip unleashed a new set of tears and shivers as every emotion I can think of washes over me. He’s holding onto my finger as if it’s his lifeline, it’s a feeling I’ll never forget. No one will ever take this moment from us, not my parents, not the doctors, no one. This is my moment to savor, my son, my little boy. Watching him grasping my finger, I freaking love it and my heart rate spikes to an all-time high.

My once flowing tears of sorrow, morphed into happiness. Cradling him close, I kiss his head, and inhale his new born scent. My body easily recognizes him, it aches for him. Tightness burns my midsection, my uterus contracts, and my boobs throb they hurt so badly. I don’t waste a minute telling him how much I love him, how much I hate that he’s being taken from me. I even break open my heart more, telling him all about his daddy. When Micah’s name escapes my lips, I’m haunted by the fact he has no idea he even has a son. Oh, God… Micah… please forgive me for what I’m being forced to do… Know I had no choice.

As my mind is consumed with Micah, I look into my son’s eyes, and I rely on every ounce of strength I have to tell him the things Micah would never get the chance to. “One day, you will be just like your daddy. He’s the most remarkable person I know. He doesn’t know about you, but I know he would love you as much as I do.” My continual, vast-flowing tears make it difficult to see his cute little face. His cheeks are so big he looks like a cherub. Somewhat chuckling, I remember back to my own baby pictures. I had the same cheeks. He’s darling, just damn perfect.

Nurse Harkins, hardly says a word, she’s allowing us to have this uninterrupted time. Walking out of the room, she periodically comes back to check on us. She even let me feed him, while she takes care of her other patients. She’s truly an angel.

“Oh sweetie, I see a lot of new mothers every day. Most days, this is the best job to have, to see a new life come into this crazy world. Unfortunately, a few of those new moms I don’t have a lot of confidence in. It’s hard for me to put into words to explain this the right way. The hardest part is being more excited about the moment when the mother you’re helping seems not as overjoyed. Those situations are few, but they do happen. You’re the exception, though. It’s bittersweet, more of a tragedy. All alone, having no one by your side. I don’t know your story, and you don’t need to tell me. It’s written all over your face, in your eyes, and it spills out of you with every word you say to your son. You would have made an incredible mother, and one day I hope you do. For now, though, God, has another plan. You are doing the best you can child, and I’m so proud of you. Takes a hell of a lot of courage to sit here knowing your time is limited with him, yet you are making sure he knows how much you love him. Keep it with you, always.”