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May 1941
Ellen and Abraham sat in a lawyer’s office. Ellen’s hand rested on her six-month belly, with its small bump, feeling the faint ripples of the baby kicking inside her. Maintaining her grueling duties at the hospital while hiding her pregnancy had been difficult. She had not gained much weight and so far had been able to hide behind slightly bulky clothing. Her landlady had commented that she seemed to be putting on weight, but Ellen told her that it must be due to her delicious cooking. Mrs. Appleton had flushed with pleasure at the compliment.
Abraham told her that he had found a lawyer willing to help. John Martin was one of California's few Negro lawyers. Abraham had already met with him once. Ellen studied Mr. Martin as he sat behind his desk, going through a file. He gave off an aura of quiet dignity, his bearing erect, his manner proper and formal. As he shuffled the papers in the file and leaned his forearms on the desk, folding his hands on top of the papers.
“All right, Miss Goodman. Mr. Moss has told me that the two of you are reluctant to leave the adoption of your baby to the state adoption agency and wish to place the child through a private adoption.”
“Yes, sir,” Ellen said softly.
“My opinion is that you have chosen the best course. There is not a lot of demand for Negro babies and it would be a shame for the child to end up being raised in an orphanage rather than in a home with a family.”
Ellen blanched, but swallowed and nodded agreement.
“Of course, private adoption is not a guarantee. As I said, there is not a lot of demand. Even if a Negro couple is unable to conceive, it is rare that they will have the resources to go through with an adoption, especially a private adoption.”
“Then... are you saying you can’t help us,” Abraham asked.
“Not at all. It so happens I do know of a couple who would like to adopt a baby. They're not wealthy, by any means, but they're comfortable. They would be able to give your child a family, a good home, an education.”
“Oh.” Ellen blinked, the situation becoming a reality. “How do they make their living? Do they have children already?” She glanced at Abraham and back to Mr. Martin. “May we meet them?”
“No, that won’t be possible. They don't want any complications or... entanglements.” Ellen dropped her gaze as he continued. “If you choose to let this couple adopt your baby, you will never know who they are. You will not know for sure if they are even from California. You will never see the child or know anything about him or her.” He waited for several long moments before asking, “Are those terms acceptable?”
Ellen heard Abraham’s quiet voice saying, “Yes, sir.” She opened her mouth, but the words would not come. Abraham’s hand gently covered hers resting on her belly. Her eyes filled with tears as he asked, “Ellen?”
Another kick fluttered beneath her hand and Ellen began to tremble. She covered her face with her hands as shuddering sobs wrenched from deep within her. She doubled over as far as her stomach would allow and rocked in her seat. Her child. Abraham’s child. How could she hand over this child growing inside her to complete strangers and never know what was to happen to him or her? Abraham was kneeling next to her, holding her, whispering to her as she clung to him.
“How can we do it,” she cried. “How can we give our baby away?”
Abraham waited for her weeping to subside and then held her hands in his, holding her gaze with an intensity that made her want to look away.
“You know I’ll do whatever you want, Ellen,” he said. “If you want to, we’ll walk out of here and you can move in with me and we’ll keep our baby. I don’t care what nobody says or thinks. But I care about what happens to you, and what happens to our baby. You’ve wanted to be a doctor your whole life. But no one is gonna hire a single white woman with an illegitimate mulatto child, especially if she’s living with her colored lover. They won’t ever give you a chance to be a doctor.”
“I don’t care,” she whispered.
“But we have to think about what’s best for our baby... not just what we want. It’s not easy for a kid with a white mother and a colored father. He won’t ever really belong to either one. You know he’s never going to be accepted as white. The best chance he’s got is to grow up as a Negro, with Negro parents. He won’t ever have the same opportunities in life as a white child, but at least he’ll belong somewhere.”
Ellen nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath. They had discussed this repeatedly during the last three months. It always came back to this... adoption by a Negro couple was the best they could do for their child. Abraham was right; it was not about what she wanted, or what he wanted. It was about their child. She pulled a handkerchief from her pocketbook and wiped her eyes. She looked over at Mr. Martin, who had said nothing during this exchange. He sat waiting for her answer.
“Mr. Martin,” she said quivering. “Do you think there will ever be a time when people can fall in love and get married, no matter their color?”
He considered the question for a moment before answering.
“Yes, Miss Goodman. I believe that day will come, and it may even happen in our lifetime. But it will not happen today, nor will it happen in the next three months. You will have to decide your child’s future based on the way the world operates today.”
She swallowed hard and took another deep breath. “Then we agree to the terms of the adoption, Mr. Martin.”
“All right, I will have the papers drawn up. It will be best if you do not see the child after birth... or even know the sex. I will arrange for the adoptive parents to pick the baby up from the hospital.”
Ellen was numb as the meeting finally ended and Abraham led her from the office. She went through her days mechanically, hiding her growing belly and focusing on patients. She and Abraham made love less and less often as she grew larger. But she continued meeting him at his apartment when she could. They would spend the day together talking about everything except the baby growing inside her. Sometimes they would lie together on the bed, just taking comfort from touching one another.
Only alone in her room did Ellen allow herself to think about the baby, to wonder if it were a boy or a girl. With her door locked against any unannounced intrusion from her nosy landlady, Ellen would strip off her clothes and examine her changing body, running her hands over her belly. Sometimes she would talk to the baby, whispering so that no one could hear her. She would tell him or her about herself and about Abraham and how much they loved and wanted him or her.
Her due date was mid-August and Ellen planned to work as long as she could, then feign a family emergency requiring a few weeks leave of absence. Her internship would be close to the end by then and she hoped to return as quickly as possible to finish.
One day in early June, a few weeks after their meeting with John Martin, Ellen left the boarding house and headed to Watts. She had not been feeling well all morning and would have preferred to stay in bed, but she knew Abraham was expecting her and would worry if she did not show up. He was waiting for her when the bus arrived.
It was a warm day and Abraham had the windows open to the slight breeze. He prepared lunch, but Ellen was still feeling a little nauseous and did not eat. She was restless and irritable, pacing around the room, pausing to lean out the window and watch the people below. She made several trips to the bathroom down the hall.
“Does your mother know?” she asked as Abraham sat at the table reading. He looked up at her quizzically and she added, “About... the baby... does she know?”
“No,” he said slowly, closing his book. “I thought it would be best if she didn’t know. It would just upset her.”
“No, we wouldn’t want to upset your mother,” she replied sarcastically. “I wish you were as concerned about upsetting me.”
“That isn’t fair and you know it. I’ve told you and told you that if you want to keep the baby, just tell me and we'll do it.”
“Yes, you leave the entire decision to me. And then I'll be the one to blame for not doing what’s best for our child, for ruining his life, for being the selfish one who can’t let go.”
Abraham sighed wearily and rubbed his forehead. “What do you want from me, Ellen?”
“Nothing,” she told him angrily. “Not a damn thing!”
She turned her back on him and stalked to the window. Folding her arms over her chest, she stared down at the street. She could feel his eyes on her, but he said nothing. She did not know why she was so angry with him. Abraham had not created the situation; he was just trying to do what was best. She knew this, yet she felt so irritable and out of sorts.
A sudden pain wrapped around her belly and back, causing her to gasp. She leaned forward, resting her hands against the wall. It felt like a vise squeezing her middle. She groaned. Abraham was instantly at her side.
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Oh... oh... oh! It... it hurts!”
“What is it?”
She closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths. It seemed to last forever before the pain began to subside. She looked at Abraham, her eyes enlarged and frightened.
“I..I think that was a... contraction.”
She straightened and Abraham led her over to sit in a chair.
“It’s not...it isn’t... ” Abraham stammered.
“It can’t be,” she said. “It’s too early. It must have just been a fluke. I... I shouldn’t have yelled.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, baby.” He kissed her cheek.
Several minutes later she grabbed Abraham’s hand and squeezed as another pain took her breath away.
“It’s too early,” she cried once the contraction had passed. “Abraham, it’s too early!”
“Listen, baby, Doc Parker’s office is a couple of blocks away. Do you think you can walk?”
“Yeah, I think so.” He helped her to her feet. Ellen paused at the door. “Abraham... I’m scared.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment. “I know, baby, I know. Let’s just get you to the doctor and it’ll be OK.”
Ellen had three more contractions in the time it took them to walk to the doctor’s office. She stopped with each one and held tightly to Abraham, his shirt fisted in her hands.
The nurse seemed nonplussed at the sight of a white woman walking into a Negro doctor’s office. She was short and heavy, her dark hair pulled back from her face and a nurse’s cap pinned tightly on. The white nurse’s uniform made her dark skin seem even darker, but despite her surprise, she realized what was happening and brought them into the exam room.
Doc Parker was in his mid-fifties, his face etched with lines of weariness and worry caused by years of trying to take care of the many medical needs in a community of people too poor to pay for his services. If he was shocked to find a pregnant white woman in his office, accompanied by a Negro man, he did not show it. He was professional and immediately examined Ellen and announced she was indeed in labor.
“No..no, it’s too early,” Ellen objected, tears coursing down her face.
“That may be, young lady, but it’s true nevertheless. I would try to get you to the hospital, but I don’t think there’s time. You have probably been in labor all day and didn’t realize it.”
“I haven’t felt good since I got up this morning,” she admitted. “And my back was hurting. But..the baby... it’s too early.”
“Let’s just take this one step at a time,” he told her, glancing at Abraham.
Ellen lost track of time as the contractions came one on after another. Doc Parker and his nurse... Miss Ross, she heard him call her... calmly and efficiently worked together to deliver the baby. Abraham never left her side, continually talking and encouraging her. She focused on his face; gave two final pushes and the baby slipped from her womb.
Ellen closed her eyes and lay back on the table. The doctor and nurse seemed to forget her as they worked on the baby that had not yet cried.
“It’s a boy,” Abraham whispered in her ear.
“A boy... ” she murmured.
She heard the sound of suctioning and then a feeble cry. She opened her eyes when a blanket-wrapped bundle was placed gently on her chest. She could only see his head and one tiny fist clenched against his cheek. He was so small and pale, his skin so translucent that she could trace the veins under his bald scalp. His eyes were closed and he was breathing too fast, taking short, grunting breaths.
The doctor and the nurse focused on her now. She could feel pushing and pulling, hear their murmured comments to one another. She gathered the baby close so that she could kiss his head.
“Abraham, look... he’s so beautiful.”
Abraham kissed him, too, and then kissed her forehead.
“Yes, he is beautiful,” he said softly.
“I don’t like this,” she heard Doc Parker say... whether to Miss Ross or to Abraham, she wasn’t sure. “The bleeding won’t stop. I think we're going to have to get her to the hospital, after all.”
There was more talking and more activity, but it seemed to be far away. The room seemed to be getting dark. Ellen felt sleepy and she wrapped her arms tightly around her baby, his head snug against her cheek, She drifted off and let the world become black.