Paula paused on the Morgans’ doorstep, remembering the first time she’d come to their home. She’d been ready to get a big scoop, to put her name on the map at WMAQ. Now it hit her hard that there were people behind each scoop. Real people, real lives, real pain.
She was about to tell the Morgans what had happened to their birth daughter, and it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.
Making a fist, she knocked on the door. How could she say the words? How did someone tell a mother and father that their birth child had died without their knowledge? Would they want to talk to Louise? Would they hate the woman for what she’d done? Paula couldn’t even guess how they’d react.
The door swung open, and Deb greeted her with a warm smile. It made Paula feel like Judas must have felt after betraying Jesus to the authorities.
Steve shook her hand and led her into the living room while Deb put a cartoon on for Faith in the other room. Paula barely caught a glimpse of Faith as she passed.
She and Steve made small talk until Deb returned to take a seat on the sofa beside her husband.
“You said you wanted to talk with us about something important,” Steve said. “Did you find out what happened at the hospital?”
Paula wasn’t ready to delve right in. First she had a confession to make. She crossed her legs and tucked her feet to the side. “Before we get into that, I want to apologize, Deb.” She made herself meet Deb’s eyes. “When you came to the office last week, I—I lied to you.”
Deb shook her head. “About what?”
Paula was afraid to look at Steve. Looking at Deb wasn’t much easier. “When you asked me if I’d found out anything new, I said I hadn’t. But that wasn’t true.”
She saw hope flicker in Deb’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by something else: fear.
“What did you find out?” Steve clasped his wife’s hand tightly.
Paula had started this, and she had to finish. But, oh, what she’d give to change it all. “I met last week with a woman who worked in the NICU at the time of your child’s birth. She remembers everything quite well.”
Deb clutched Steve’s hand.
“She was working two jobs at the time to meet some financial obligations. Her second job was also at Chicago General. She assisted a doctor who performed abortions.”
She expected to be interrupted, but the Morgans simply sat frozen, a horrible mixture of hope and dread stamped on their faces.
She wanted to ease their fears, but the truth was as bad as or worse than anything they were expecting. The most compassionate thing she could do was get to the point.
“Right before the nurse was scheduled to work in the NICU, there was a botched abortion. The nurse was instructed—”
“Wait,” Steve said. “What’s a botched abortion?”
“There are rare instances when babies survive an abortion,” Paula explained. “I found some articles online about it. Anyway, the nurse was instructed to get rid of the baby, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.”
“Get rid of it?” Deb asked.
Paula’s heart started some kind of syncopated rhythm that interfered with her breathing. “The doctor wanted her to—to kill the baby.”
Deb’s fingers spread across her lips.
“The nurse was terribly torn. She couldn’t afford to lose her job, yet what she held in her hands was so clearly a tiny baby. And the child was breathing on her own.”
“What did she do?” Steve’s voice was monotone and knowing.
“She sneaked the child downstairs to the NICU. She kept the baby wrapped in her scrub top so no one would see it. When she reached the NICU and the other nurses left, she placed the baby in an incubator and treated her as a patient. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Eventually a doctor or nurse would come in and discover the baby, and she knew she’d lose one or both jobs. But she couldn’t stand the thought of letting the infant die.”
Deb’s eyes glazed over.
Paula stared down at her own hands, laced together like an innocent schoolgirl’s. This was her baby she was talking about. Her child, whom she’d nearly destroyed. She blinked the thought away. She had to focus on the Morgans. This would be the most difficult moment of their lives, and it was her job to somehow soften the blow. The thought was almost enough to make her choke. This blow would come down like a sledgehammer, no matter how she delivered it.
She forced herself to continue. “In another incubator your birth child lay struggling for her life. As you know, the doctors expected that she wouldn’t make it. Deb, you were in surgery at the time.”
Deb gave a short nod.
“The nurse stabilized the baby she smuggled down to the NICU.”
Paula struggled to find the words. How could she explain to the Morgans that their baby had died that day? That they’d been cheated from holding her little body or telling her how much they loved her?
Paula again felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. “The rest of this is going to be very difficult to hear.”
Steve nodded. “Go on.”
Paula didn’t want to go on. She wanted to run from the room and never come back. But she owed the Morgans the truth. She lifted her face and met their eyes, looking back and forth from one to the other to assess their preparedness for the news they were about to hear.
“Shortly after the nurse stabilized the secret infant, your birth child stopped breathing.”
A soft moan tore from Deb’s mouth, and Steve wrapped her in his arms. His own face took on the numbness of someone who has just come through a trauma.
Paula put her hand on Deb’s arm. “I’m so sorry.”
They sat together, saying nothing, a triangle of pain. “She died?” Steve asked.
“I’m afraid so.”
Deb wept silently, and Steve held her like she was the most precious thing on earth.
Paula blinked until her vision cleared. “The nurse knew your birth child had no chance of survival. She knew you’d had a hysterectomy and wouldn’t be able to have any more children.”
“She switched the babies.” Steve met her eyes over the top of Deb’s head.
“Yes.” Paula wanted to add so much more. She wanted to tell them about Louise’s struggle to do the right thing. About her desperation to spare the Morgans from the pain of losing a child. But they weren’t ready to hear that yet. They just needed to grieve.
Paula pulled two tissues from her bag and handed one of them to Deb.
“What—what happened to our child?” Steve asked.
Deb burrowed her head into Steve’s chest, as if she didn’t want to hear the answer.
Paula forced herself to reply. “The nurse is a compassionate woman. She buried her in her backyard under a big oak tree.”
After a brief pause Deb wept openly. The sound of it raked Paula’s heart, making her feel completely helpless. There was nothing she could say to comfort them.
Steve’s eyes were fixed, his mouth set in a flat line. His numb horror was as bad as Deb’s weeping.
“I’m so sorry,” Paula said again.
Deb clutched Steve’s shirt sleeve and dissolved into deep, raw sobs. Her naked pain tied knots inside Paula’s stomach.
The Morgans needed to be alone. They needed to grieve in peace. Paula stood, grabbing her bag. She touched Steve’s shoulder on her way out of the room and cast one last look at the couple before leaving.
She drove home in a fog as thick as Jell-O. Her heart was still at the Morgans’ house. It was all her fault. All her fault that they were grieving. That Faith had cerebral palsy. That Louise had carried three years of guilt.
Yet Paula hadn’t told the Morgans about her role in this nightmare. She braked at a red light and closed her eyes.
I’ve done it again. I’m hiding the truth. Why is telling the truth so hard for me? Why didn’t I just tell them I was the one who had the abortion?
The answer came quickly and clearly: Because you’re afraid David will find out. It was her greatest fear of all.
Do I have to go that far, God? Do I have to lose my husband because of one terrible choice?
She asked the question but didn’t really want to know the answer.
What should she do? Did the Morgans really need to know who Faith’s birth mother was?
You owe them the truth.
The thought was a punch in the stomach. And what about Faith? Paula had already denied the child once. Denied that she even was a child by trying to get rid of her. Now she’d denied Faith again by refusing to claim her.
What a failure she was. Paula, successful reporter and businesswoman. Confident and competent. Was it only a facade? Who was she really? The self-assured woman who could handle anything—or the woman who cowered from truth in a dark corner?
God, I’m tired of living this way. I’m tired of hiding secrets.
The Morgans deserved the truth, and Faith deserved to be acknowledged as her child, even if the Morgans chose not to tell her.
The light turned green and Paula accelerated. She had to tell them who she was, but now wasn’t the time. Not when they just found out about their birth child’s death. She would give them time to recover from that blow before she dealt the next one.
She only hoped her courage didn’t fail her in the meantime.