З життя
If You Can Spread Your Legs, You Can Take Responsibility: Otherwise, Maybe Parenthood Isn’t for You
The cold hospital room hummed with quiet tension. Lydia lay still, the exhaustion of childbirth weighing on her like a lead blanket. Across from her, a woman in her forties shifted uncomfortably. Near the door, another womanAnniepressed her face against the wall, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Lydias husband, James, had doted on her through every step of the pregnancywalking her to university, bundling her up against icy pavements. Hed promised to quit his offshore rig job once the baby arrived. But fate had other plans. The moment hed left for his final shift, her contractions had begun.
Now, their newborn slept peacefully in the cot beside her. A healthy child. A miracle. Yet Lydia couldnt bring herself to call James. Let him hear the news from someone else.
A nurses sharp voice cut through the quiet.
“Are you going to feed your baby or just stand there?” The nurse hovered near Annie, who hadnt moved. “At least hold her. Look at hershes perfect.”
Annie didnt turn.
“You know how to spread your legs,” the nurse scoffed. “But if you cant take responsibility, you shouldnt have kept her.” With that, she marched out.
The older womanNataliefinally spoke. “You think I wanted this? Im forty-three! My sons marriedIm about to be a grandmother!” Her voice cracked. “But here we are. The babys innocent. If you didnt want her, you shouldve ended it sooner.”
Annies quiet weeping turned to gasping sobs.
“Stop cryingit wont fix anything!” Natalie snapped. “Take your baby. Feed her. Dont be a fool.”
“Maybe she was raped,” piped up Albina, finally setting her phone down. “Or what if its her stepdads?”
Lydias chest tightened. Here she wasloved, supportedwhile this woman had nothing. No flowers, no celebration. Just shame and a child she couldnt face.
Suddenly, shame burned through her.
“What if you had somewhere to go?” Lydia blurted. “Would you take her then?”
Annie spun, eyes wild. “Of course! But thats never happening.” She turned back to the wall, shutting them all out.
Two hours later, Lydia spoke again, firmer this time. “Youll live in my mums dormitory. Shes the warden. Youll clean floors, but theyll give you a room.”
Albina perked up. “Oh! Ive got a spare discharge outfit. Let me call my husbandweve got two anyway.”
Natalie nodded. “Ill bring clothes. My daughters old thingswashed and pressed. Theyre still good.”
By morning, women from other wards trickled inoffering prams, blankets, formula. A young mother slipped in, whispering, “Ive got nothing to give, but Ill buy some nappies, just in case.”
Annie broke downnot in despair, but in overwhelmed joy. “Ill pay you all back,” she stammered.
The women just smiled. “Pass it on when you can.”
That night, Lydia drifted off, content. Annie would be alright. Shed find her way. And her daughter? Shed have her mother. That was enough.
