Underneath were details from a conversation he had with them earlier that morning while I was sleeping.
He had told them that I had already decided I didn’t want our son.
He claimed I was too emotionally unstable to make decisions and asked them to move forward with a permanent placement as quickly as possible.
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Permanent.
Not temporary.
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I stared at him.
“You told me we were only giving ourselves time to think.”
Michael went pale.
“You were exhausted. I was trying to make things easier.”
“By making the decision for me?”
The nurse looked at me.
“You can still change your mind. Nothing is final yet.”
For the first time since my son had been born, I felt like I could breathe again.
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I turned toward the hospital.
Michael grabbed my arm.
“Emily, think about our life.”
I pulled myself free.
