The Changeling

The steam from the bath fogged her glasses as she watched the little blue whale spout vomit scalding water into the shallow tub. That’s how he liked his bath. It was even too hot for her to want to touch but he cried if it was any cooler. He would look at her with those unusual purple eyes and she would feel compelled to do as he willed. It’s funny, she thought as she watched the tub slowly fill, that I always feel forced to do for him. I never want to do for him. She always thought that when they had a child that she would love it like nothing else. How could she not love something that was a piece of her, a part of her soul that broke free to form a new beautiful life? Wasn’t that how all mothers felt?

It took years to get pregnant. Her doctor had told her something about her uterus being oddly shaped or some such nonsense. A uterus was a uterus after all, why should hers not work? Years of heartache and pain and watching friends and family conceive new branches of their family tree while she and her husband sat childless. And then – voila! She discovered she was expecting. They had given up trying. Nine years was a long time to keep up hope and then all of a sudden along came Gabriel. Countless doctors’ visits, vitamins, sleepless nights praying that nothing goes awry and just as she was settling into her pregnancy and accepting the glow came the words no parents want to hear: Something is wrong.

They said it was near impossible to have a child of my own and when my body finally cooperated they told me something was wrong. Something was wrong with my body and something was wrong with my little boy’s heart. Some defect. I didn’t care. He was my baby and I was going to be taking him home.

She turned the water off and stared at the bubbles skating across its surface. Tears stung her dark eyes as she knew now it was too late to change anything. There was no going back and there would be no ending it now. He wouldn’t let her. He would look at her, the boy with the purple eyes, and he would tell her exactly how things were going to be. She knew Harry would be no help. She could see it in her husband’s eyes that he would be checking out soon and leaving her to deal with the child on her own. Three months with a child was enough to make him leave when eleven years of a difficult marriage couldn’t. But Harry knew – he knew and she couldn’t blame him and wouldn’t stop him. She loved him. She couldn’t bear him spending the rest of his life unhappy.

“Gabriel! Your bath is ready!”

His little body shuffled down the hall passing the doorway. Already naked and trailing a large stuffed turtle he had named Greenley behind him his laughter sent a chill up her spine.

“Gabriel, your water’s going to get cold.” How could they not have told me at the hospital? How could they not have seen something? The nurses hadn’t been able to explain how her son had come out of the NICU after one night as healthy as a horse when he had gone in gasping for breath with a heart barely beating.

He ran in then. “I had to put Greenley to bed. It was his nap time. Mommy?”

Mommy. It was a word she was still getting used to. “Yes baby?”

“I’m thirsty.”

At the words her breasts began to ache heavy with milk. He wouldn’t bite she knew.

“After you’ve finished with your bath. Now get in.”

Gabriel’s chubby legs leapt over the tubs edge splashing water onto the floor. He gave her a mischievous look and a spectacular smile. It was difficult for her not to care for him but she knew it would be a long road to erase her fear of him. Did he know she wondered? Maybe even suspect? Or did he love her?

It doesn’t matter. He may not be my flesh and blood but he is my son.

“Mommy?”

There’s that word again. “Yes Gabriel?”

“You’ll always be my mommy right?”

She hesitated. This cuckoo in her nest was probably the only baby she was going to get and she knew, by God, she knew she would learn to love him.

She smiled. “Of course.”

“Good because I love you.” He laid his little hand on her knee and rested his blonde head on her. “I knew I chose the perfect mommy.”

His words sunk deep and she pushed them even deeper. Maybe her son was somewhere better, somewhere he didn’t need his little failing organs, somewhere he would be loved. And that was the last time she thought on her son. She would choose this boy with the brilliant purple eyes and ornery smile. She would choose motherhood over emptiness. She ran her fingers through his pale hair and said, “I’m glad you chose me and you’ll always have me.”