Chapter 12 - Clara’s Pregnancy Became Everybody’s Evidence Except Mine
By twenty-four weeks, Clara’s pregnancy was visibly advanced.
People treated the baby like a clue.
I hated that.
The baby was not evidence of moral failure.
Adults were.
Richard’s friends whispered:
“If it’s Glen’s…”
My relatives said:
“Can you imagine?”
I could.
Constantly.
I stopped discussing.
One afternoon Dad asked:
“Do you hate the baby?”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“I feel guilty.”
“For what?”
“Sometimes I look at ultrasound picture and feel angry.”
“That doesn’t mean anger is at child.”
“I thought I was going to be father again.”
“Yes.”
“I picked names.”
I touched his hand.
“You are allowed to grieve a future that may not have been real.”
He looked at me.
“When did you become reasonable?”
“Therapy and expensive lawyers.”
He laughed.
Then:
“If child is mine, I’ll be father.”
“Of course.”
“If not…”
“You decide what role, if any, you want later. No one gets to force.”
He nodded.
May you like
That was important.
A child can be innocent without every betrayed adult being obligated to remain.
