« We’ve talked about everything, » Mom said gently. « You’re our daughter, and we’re not going to let you face this alone. »
Dad nodded.
« We’ll help you raise the baby. »
I was overwhelmed with relief.
For the first time in months, I believed everything might work out.
I found a part-time job, began buying tiny outfits, and made room for the baby’s belongings.
I even chose his name.
Fabian.
Every evening, I’d place my hands over my growing belly and whisper, « Goodnight, Fabian. Mommy can’t wait to meet you. »
When my son finally arrived, I felt a love unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
He was so tiny, so warm, and so perfect.
As I held him against my chest, I silently promised that I would always protect him.
Before a nurse took him for a routine examination, I slipped my grandmother’s silver cross into his blanket.
