Abandon My Child?

A very long time ago I found myself a single parent with full custody of my infant son. That little bundle of a human being was the purpose for every breath I took, and every tear of love shared. To turn my back on my beautiful little boy and not even look at him as his arms reached out, his tiny fingers grasped at the air, and he wailed for his father, was to pierce my very soul with the pain of injustice, while it showed him I wasn’t the daddy he adored. As his scream pierced my heart and tears flowed down both our faces, I walked out the door and didn’t look back. It was the longest and most painful trip I ever took. I wanted only to turn around, but there simply was no other way. It had to be done.

“You mean I didn’t lose my best buddy?”

When we became a duo, we moved into the old farmhouse I purchased. I took two weeks off to get settled into the new neighborhood and find a daycare. Immediately the neighbors fell in love with my little boy and took me under their wing as a single father. A few blocks down, a neighbor woman, Nancy, with three children, took in other kids. She was licensed and could care for only two infants. Luckily, she had only one in the daycare. She was nice, a great mother, and the house was beautiful. I had found the daytime home and family for my little boy.

Nancy was wise. After I filled out the paperwork, we stood together in her hallway as she rattled off a list of things she wanted me to bring when I dropped my son off on Monday.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll be sure to bring everything. And I want you to know that I am so very glad I found you.”

“Well, I’m glad to have this smiley little boy with us,” she said, stroking his cheek and earning a smile and giggle in return.

“See you Monday,” I said. “Thanks again, Nancy, really.”

Then it came. “Dr. Joseph, look at me,” she said in a very serious tone.

I looked at a wrinkled brow and a frown. I thought she had changed her mind, or I was in trouble for missing curfew or misbehaving at school. My brow wrinkled as well. “Yes?”

She raised her finger and pointed at me. “Now you listen to me and listen good! It is clear to me this little boy here,” she rubbed his head, “is bonded to you like a Siamese twin, and you’re attached to him with Superglue. I need for you to make me a promise. When we stand here Monday morning and you hand him to me, I want you to turn around and walk out of that door without stopping, and without looking back, you hear me?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Now I mean it! The second I take him and you turn around, he’s going to go ballistic. He will reach out for you and start screaming at the top of his precious little lungs. The worst thing you can do is acknowledge him and get another hug, because he’ll grab hold of you like a bear trap and you’ll have to rip his arms away as he cries and screams—and I will be really ticked. Promise me you won’t look back.”

I cleared my throat. “I promise.”

“Okay, I am holding you to that promise.”

The dreaded morning came. I held my precious little boy in one arm and carried the tote bag of items requested. I walked in, set the tote on the floor, and it happened exactly as in her preview of coming attractions, or better said, preview of coming abandonment. I handed him to her, and before I could turn around, I saw his arms fling out toward me, his glossy eyes opened wide, the smooth forehead filled with furrows, and his scream blasted out at 110 decibels, instantly demolishing fatherhood.

I immediately turned around, sprinted for the door, never looked back, and betrayed my wailing child without so much as a wave goodbye. I got in the car and headed down the road blurry-eyed and hating myself, for I had abandoned my child and decimated a perfect father/son partnership.

Nancy knew it would take me about a half-hour to reach my office. Still sniffling with a bloodied heart, I sat at my desk, turned on my computer, dumped out yesterday’s coffee grounds, and the phone rang.

I cleared my throat as I struggled through the burden of answering, “Good . . . morning.”

“He cried for about forty-five seconds, then got interested in playing with Jason and checking out the toys. With smiles galore, he’s now enjoying his French toast. You’ve got yourself a great little boy.”

Hoover Dam opened in my eyes. “You mean I didn’t lose my best buddy?”

She laughed. “Nope, he’s still in love with his daddy.”