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Hattie wasn’t sure she recognized her parents at the moment. Suddenly, all they seemed to care about were their reputations. What about her? And her unborn child?
“Mama, it’s not as if it’s never been done before. People give birth to children without being married. I loved Samuel. We were engaged to be married!” Hattie explained.
“Well, shame on Samuel for not marrying you before he compromised your virtue,” her father scolded in a thunderous voice. His face was full of anger. Veins popped on his forehead. He clutched his chest and stumbled. Her mother cried out and led her father toward the divan. For a moment Hattie felt frightened. He looked as if he might have a heart attack. She would never forgive herself if something happened to him because of the stress of her pregnancy. Her father’s health was already precarious due to a minor heart attack a year ago.
“Daddy!” Hattie raced to his side. His eyes were closed as he laid back on the divan. His face appeared flushed.
“How are we going to withstand the scandal?” her father asked. He began to sob. Sweat gathered on his forehead. His breathing was shallow.
Her mother sent her a pleading look. Hattie’s heart felt as if it might shatter. She knew what her mother was asking her to do. She had to make a choice. Her baby or her parents. And without her parents’ help, Hattie knew she wouldn’t be able to raise a child. Not while the country was at war and resources were severely limited.
“Please, Hattie. For your father’s sake, say you’ll give the baby up,” her mother begged.
“I’ll place the baby with a wonderful family,” she said, gripping her father’s hand tightly.
She knew her parents loved her dearly, but all they could see was their own fear and the possibility of being shunned by Savannah society. They couldn’t see past it. As a result, she had been forced to make a decision that might haunt her for the remainder of her life.
A month passed by during which time Hattie traveled with her parents to a small town in Florida. A few weeks later Hattie’s water broke. After twenty hours of labor, Hattie gave birth to a seven-pound baby boy at Sacred Heart Hospital. The moment she gazed into her son’s beautiful brown eyes, Hattie fell in love. She cradled her son at her breast, and even though she had been told not to nurse him, she couldn’t resist. And she named him, even though it wasn’t official. Patrick. Her sweet, dear Patrick.
Four days later, she was discharged from the hospital. Without her son. She had signed papers giving him up to a family from Virginia. Hattie had signed the papers before Patrick was born. And now, she’d changed her mind.
On her first day home she told her parents that she wanted her son back. The family from Virginia wasn’t supposed to pick him up until the weekend. She still had three days to get him back.
“We’ve already been down this road, Hattie. It’s not feasible to think you can raise a child,”
her mother said in a stern voice.
“I can get a job. I can raise my baby alone. And I can move to another state where no one knows me or my story. I can say I’m a war widow.”
“And live on what?” her father roared. “We’re not going to finance this. It’s out of the question.”
“How can you be so selfish?” Her mother asked. “There are so many families out there who will give you your son everything he needs for a wonderful, blessed life.”
“But they won’t be me. Don’t you understand? They won’t be his mother.” Hattie knew her parents might never understand her desire to raise her son. But at this moment it didn’t matter. In the morning she would return to the hospital and bring Patrick home with her. And then she would find a way to live independently from her parents and raise her son with all the love and care in the world. She needed to go back and get her baby. She’d thought giving him up for adoption was the answer. But it wasn’t.
Bright and early the next morning, Hattie made her way to Sacred Heart Hospital—a fifteen-minute drive from the large home her parents had rented in Middleton, Florida. She drove herself to the hospital, borrowing a truck from the gardener and promising to be back by early afternoon.
When she rushed into the hospital to the newborn wing, Hattie raced to the glass partition to get a peek at Patrick. Her heart swelled as she saw all the little babies in their cradles. Her eyes scanned the rows of babies. Where was he? She began to panic before reminding herself that the hospital could be running tests on him or feeding him.
She raced to the nurse’s station. Frantic, she pounded her fists on the counter.
“I don’t see my baby. I need to find him. Patrick Alexander. Where’s my baby?”
The nurse’s eyes widened. She began clenching her jaw. “Miss Alexander. He’s gone. The adoptive family came to pick him up early.”
She shook her head as a scream rose up within her throat. “No. That’s not possible. I still have two whole days. They said three days and it’s been just one. Not even.”
The nurse reached out and touched her shoulder. “Miss Alexander. It’s true. I saw them collect the baby myself. Sister Angela was with the family.”
Without uttering a word, Hattie began to run in the direction of the nursery. A female voice called out to her. It was Sister Angela, the young nun who had ran the hospital nursery. She held her back with strong arms. Before she knew it, she was being taken away to a ward of the hospital where everything was pristine and stark white. Hattie flailed her arms and fought back against the heavy weight descending upon her. Sister Angela spoke to her in soothing tones. She felt something prick her arm, and the next thing she knew, everything faded to black.
It wasn’t until a week later that Hattie knew day from night, right from wrong. Her heart once again felt shattered beyond repair. No matter what she did or where she went in her life from this point forward, Hattie knew she would never recover from these two losses. First Samuel and now Patrick. One had been thrust upon her while the other had been of her own making. She should have been stronger. Braver. More resolute. She should never have walked away from Patrick.
Once again, she found herself in a constant state of agony. She was mourning the loss of her child and the life they could have had together. Hattie hated herself. And she imagined Samuel would have been heartsick at her actions. She had given away the last tie to Samuel—their precious child.
She knew on some instinctual level she would never lay eyes on her beautiful son again. And as a penance against what she had done, Hattie vowed she would never have another child. She would never seek to replace Patrick.
Lord knew she never could.
