What a Struggle

December 16, 2011
“It’s a girl”, the doctor said as he pulled out my wife’s blood covered baby. The sobbing baby yelp as he came out of her womb, alerting on duty nurses from the other rooms. As they rang the chiming bell throughout the hospital notifying people that new born baby has been born, I sat by my mom looking at my new-fangled baby. I beamed a smile at her as the windows of her soul open slightly.

“What should we name her?” I said.

“I don’t know yet, I’m still baffled her astonishing beauty,” said my wife, Hillary, with a smile. “Do you have any ideas about a name yet?”

“Well….I’ve been thinking about some names. Like Chelsea, Clarisa, or Heather.”

“I like Heather, we’ll name her Heather.”

We acknowledge my idea on naming her Heather. Now the other dilemma we had to over-come is to pay the hospital. It’s not likely to pay so soon on the salary we are working on. I’ll have to take a second job, and so will my wife. But then we would have to find an experienced babysitter who we can trust.
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The next day at the house Hillary, Heather, and I were snuggled on the couch surfing through channels. As we lay restful on our plush couch, there was a rough knock at the door. I jumped up to the sound and rushed to the door. There was a guy arrayed in a black suit with cloudy black glasses.

“Hello sir, is this the Millers’ residents?” he said searching an index card he held in his palm.

“Why yes it is, may I help you?” I announced while I leaned against the door hinge.

“Yes, I am from the Social Services and I here to say that we believe that you aren’t suited for your recent baby, Heather. The money you are bringing home doesn’t seem to tally up to buy all the appliances you need for your baby. Like diapers, food, a bed.”

“But we have all that stuff. Who gave you this information?”

“Social Services, the job I work at.”

“Well we are fitted for our child and I’ll assure you that Heather is in a very safe environment.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said walking passed me and into my house.

The man in black went back into Heather’s room and observed slowly and carefully as if he was trying to find a flaw. His head swinging back and forth suddenly stopped only to turn and face me.

“Sorry for bothering you, I was told to come over here and rummage through the house.” He said heading for the door. “Have a good one.”

Hillary and I faced each other, dazed. Soon enough we went back to the couch where we had left Heather in her carriage, but she was gone!





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