“We have to give it back”

The words were etched into my brain, a searing memory I will never be allowed to forget.

That was eighteen years ago now, and every night the panic and surety of those words roll around my brain, I’m not sure when they changed from words in panic, sweat drenched nightmares to comfort and fondness.

My son, eighteen today, I say today, maybe it was a month ago, maybe it was yesterday, but today is the day he came to me, the day he opened his eyes and I knew, he was mine.

I was young , young enough to be driven by impulsivity and hormones, young enough to be bolstered by the surety and confidence only a woman emerging from the throwes of puberty can have. I was powerful in a way I can’t have understood with a body I used to manipulate men and boys to succumb to my whims.

The only time a man said no to me, was right after he told me we needed to give it back.

It

Like my child was an object.

His birthed can’t have loved him, she had left him alone in a pram outside the door, he was fast asleep, an angel. My angel, I saw his eyes open and I knew then I had to save him from that neglectful bitch. I picked him up and took the bag that hung across the handles and zipped him into my jacket. My baby, I remember hearing screaming from behind me and how the fresh spring air gave way to the sun warming my skin.

The clouds had parted and the sun shone only for us, it was a sign that I had done the right thing.

I took him home and made a list of all the things my boy needed, and all the things I was going to spoil him with, he gurgled in my arms and smiled at me, I knew he loved me as much as I loved him.

The door to my flat slammed closed and my boyfriend walked into the living room, I sat, the picture of maternal pride, feeding my baby his bottle and smiling with a contentness I had never truly felt before.

The boyfriend looked at us, his face in shock. I thought I had stunned him, amazed him, I asked what we should name my son.

He shouted, and my baby fussed, I couldn’t understand how he could be so angry, so unacceptable, so unkind. I explained, quietly and without hesitation how fate had brought us together.

We have to give it back

He almost whispered it to me, he repeated it over and over, pacing the floor, his voice getting louder and more frantic, tears formed in my eyes, didn’t he love us, didn’t he want us to be a family, didn’t I please him.

No

He left us