She's Mine - Part 2 of 2

It’s like I’ve just told her she’s won the lottery, I want to remind her that she can’t keep it but I think that would be cruel, so I keep quiet.
The nurse is back in no time with this bundle in her arms that’s so still for a second I don’t think it’s real, but as she passes it over to my mum I can see a flash of pink skin and a tuft of black hair and I’m finding myself craning to see. My mum sees me, but pretends she doesn’t.
‘She’s perfect Katie. Well done.’ She says, pride beaming in her eyes. It’s as if she’s forgotten the last five months completely. She looks at me like she used to and that makes me feel happy. I’ve forgotten how we used to be before all of this. I just want her to be proud then I hear myself asking to hold it. I regret it as soon as I open my mouth but it’s too late. My mums next to me pushing the bundle into my arms and she’s there, sleeping in the crook of my arm as if she’s been there forever.
I don’t want to look at her. I don’t deserve to look at her. She’s so innocent, not an imperfection in sight and I don’t want her to see my face only to never see it again, but she’s fast asleep so I figure she won’t know. I stare at her tiny face all scrunched up like a prune, she has so much hair I can’t help but laugh a bit. Kids in my family always have the unfortunate trait of being extremely hairy, I don’t know why I thought this wouldn’t apply to her. There’s not an inch of him in her, she looks like me. People talk about how babies look like their parents and I say it sometimes because people seem to enjoy hearing it but I can never actually see it, but it’s a weird feeling seeing something that looks so much like you, like you have this magnetic claim over them because you know they belong to you.
But she doesn’t belong to me.
I don’t think about that for a minute while I study her hands. She has these miniscule hands with tiny fingernails and I’m fascinated by them, I can’t tear my eyes away. The thought that this is what was growing inside of me blows my mind. People have been having babies since the dawn of time, but this one, well she’s special. I can’t believe this is the inconvenience, but she’s not an inconvenience anymore, she’s a person and she’s so helpless and I’m the only thing she knows and this bubble starts stirring in my stomach like the strongest adrenaline I’ve ever felt and it works its way up to my chest and I feel like I’m going to burst and I don’t know whether it’s happiness or sadness, but these tears start spilling over as if I’d been saving them up for a lifetime and I’m crying, real sobs and I can’t seem to catch my breath. Big fat tears land on her chubby cheek, I wipe them away and her skin is so soft I can’t help but stoke it over and over again. It feels so fragile like tracing paper and all I’m thinking is that I need to protect her. I catch sight of my mum watching me and she’s crying too, although she’s being a bit more subtle.
‘Katie, the Conrad’s are here. They’re ready to sign the final paperwork if you are.’ It’s some woman I vaguely recognise, the Conrad’s lawyer I think. I didn’t even know she was here. Are the two hours really over? The Conrad’s are here already?
No. I’m not ready.
That was the only thing I could think and I didn’t realise I’d said it out loud until I saw the shock settle on the woman’s face. I just didn’t think it would go this quick. I could feel my grip tighten on her instinctively, panic rising in my chest. I shouldn’t have held her. That was never in the plan, neither was this ache that set so quickly in my heart as if it had been there the whole time and I was just noticing it.
‘Are you saying you want to keep her Katie? Or do you just need more time to say goodbye?’
‘I don’t know… I don’t know if I can say goodbye.’
She’s my baby. I’m her mum.
The woman leaves the room and relief took over and my grip on her loosened slightly.
‘You have to be sure Katie. You can’t take her home and then change your mind.’ My mum’s voice is the harsh reality I don’t want to hear.
‘You’ve changed your tune.’ I say, not taking my eyes off of the little bundle in my arms, ‘I thought this is what you wanted?’
‘I just want what’s best for her. And I really believe that’s you, but you have to believe it too. I’m going to speak to the lawyers and let you have a think.’
She leaves and then I’m alone with her. Just me and her. She begins to move, her arms and legs wriggling slightly, her eyes start to open, one blink, then another and then she’s looking at me, these huge blue eyes gulping me in and I’m stupidly grinning at her and with that I know that she’s mine. She’s always been mine, but then I think of Mrs Conrad. She’s here somewhere, in this building thinking that today is the day she gets her baby. I picture her when they tell her, when she leaves without her daughter, her empty nursery, empty heart. She couldn’t win this. Her entire future is in my hands, it always has been and I’m about to take it away. I’ve hurt so many people with my stupid decisions. I never listened to anything except my own doubt. I bounded my way through this adoption process and I don’t think I ever thought about them, not really. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know I would feel this… attached. It seems ridiculous to think that now. I’ve only known her a couple of hours and I can’t imagine being without her. The thought of someone taking her from me makes me feel dizzy with grief and I know that’s how Mrs Conrad’s going to feel, but I can’t do it. I can’t give her up. She’s mine.