I turned my head, trying to catch a glimpse of my daughter.
All I saw was a nurse quickly carrying a tiny bundle toward the door.
Then I heard the doctor whisper something strange.
“Take her through the back. Make sure nobody sees.”
I wanted to ask what he meant, but I was exhausted.
When I woke up in my hospital room three hours later, my baby wasn’t beside me.
Neither was my husband.
I pressed the call button.
“Where’s my daughter?”
“She’s fine,” the nurse replied. “We’ll bring her shortly.”
Twenty minutes later, another nurse entered carrying a newborn wrapped in a pink blanket.
“Here’s your beautiful little girl.”
I reached for her immediately.
But when I pulled back the blanket, I froze.
The baby had thick, jet-black hair, dark eyebrows, and a complexion much darker than mine.
I knew children with albinism could have babies without the condition. That wasn’t impossible.
