I’m on the bus home, breastfeeding and cuddling my darling child, thinking back to my miracle “birth”.

The girl and I looked into each other’s faces. Her words sank in. I saw at once she understood me; and I understood her. A powerful feeling – like a kind of love – passed between us.

She gripped my hand, and walked with me back towards the queue, and we easily took on our new roles. Anyone would see we had a bond. We chatted like two ordinary pregnant women. We arrived at the end of the queue just as the mother herself was arriving back from the toilets. She was looking panicky, trying to remember where she had been sitting.

“Here I am! Don’t worry,” I called out. “She was crying, so I just walked a little with my friend here, to settle her. She’s gone back to sleep. Here is your little darling!”

“Oh, thanks so much. Sjoe – having two kids under two is not easy!” the harassed young mother said, as she gratefully took her tiny daughter.

Then my new “friend” and I went to a nearby café, and made our plans. We swapped numbers. After that we messaged every day on the pregnancy’s progress.

A week later she went into labour. I rushed over to her house, and went with her to the hospital. She lived on the other side of town, and was sure no-one would know her. She had already told the maternity sisters that she needed more time think about adoption and didn’t want the baby to go to the special home.

She had ordered her mom to go away to her new boyfriend for a few days as she would be no help if she was drinking. The woman readily agreed! No wonder this girl didn’t want the baby – she had such a bad example of her own mother.

How lucky, lucky for her and this baby, that I came into their lives. It is destiny, written in the stars. I will be a great mother!

I supported her through the ordeal of labour, until she was taken in to give birth.

My heart lurched when I saw him: a perfect, tiny boy. Later the same day we went back to her home together, where we stayed for two days. I looked after her, and my baby.

I let one night pass before I contacted my cousin, well after visiting hours were over. She had been away one night at her boyfriend, but was now worried when I hadn’t come home. I used the birth mother’s phone, pretending my phone had died and I had forgotten to take a charger in all the panic.

She couldn’t believe it when I said my waters had broken unexpectedly and I had had a remarkably quick birth. I needed just two nights in hospital and I would be home early the next morning. I asked her to get everything ready. Then I dropped the call, so she couldn’t get details to try to visit me. I didn’t want her to rush over to the hospital and not find me!

And the girl – my saviour – and I have said our goodbyes; given our thanks. I – her saviour – shiver when I think of what almost happened. But the powers above saved me from that. The girl and I have agreed: we will never contact each other again.

I have sent a WhatsApp, so everyone at home is expecting me. I smile to think how excited they will be to see us when I arrive home. I told them the baby had arrived a bit early, but the birth had been easy. I had a healthy baby. A beautiful, perfect baby boy!

My husband is on his way home from his job, to meet his son. He has sent non-stop loving messages and I have sent WhatsApp pictures of our child. I told him I would like to call our son, Gift. He cried over the phone, relieved we were both safe and well.

My milk is flowing, my baby is healthy and drinking well, my heart is full. I feel complete. I look down at my baby. I swear, he even resembles my husband.

I know that all the spirits up there in the heavens know this is best for everyone. Yes, at last, I am blessed with a baby of my own.

 ***

Tell us: Do you think what has happened is morally wrong, or right? Why or why not? Is this baby simply adopted, but in an informal way?