Sarah finished entering the information into her tablet.
I watched her carefully.
"Will that be enough?"
She looked up.
"Yes. We'll make sure nobody other than the people you've authorized receives information about Sadie's discharge."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
She gave me a reassuring smile.
"That's what we're here for."
But I wasn't reassured.
Not completely.
Mark was sitting beside me, his hands clasped together.
Neither of us spoke until Sarah had left.
Then I turned toward him.
"Do you think it was Mom?"
He didn't answer immediately.
"I don't know."
"Who else would be asking about Sadie's transportation?"
"I can't say."
I looked at the door.
My mother still had two doors between us.
My father was probably sitting in Harper's room.
And somewhere in the middle of all that celebrating, someone had decided to ask hospital staff about taking my newborn daughter home.
I felt a chill.
"Did you hear anything else when you passed Harper's room?"
Mark shook his head.
"Not about the hospital."
I looked down at my hands.
The house.
The key.
The garage code.
Now Sadie's discharge.
It was becoming difficult to believe these were separate conversations.
I remembered giving my mother the spare key.
It had happened years earlier.
Mark and I had been leaving for a weekend trip, and I had asked my parents to keep a copy in case of an emergency.
My mother had insisted it was sensible.
She said parents should always have a way to help their children.
I had agreed.
At the time, I hadn't imagined needing to protect my own home from the people holding the key.
I looked at Mark.
"Did your mother ever keep a key to your old apartment?"
He shook his head.
"No."
I almost smiled.
"Mine always wanted one."
He didn't laugh.
Neither did I.
I reached for Sadie's bassinet.
She was sleeping with her hands near her face.
I studied her tiny fingers.
I had spent months preparing for her arrival.
I had bought the clothes, washed the blankets, and arranged her room.
I had thought the hardest part would be childbirth.
I hadn't considered that I might have to defend the simplest decisions about her.
Mark moved his chair closer.
"We should make sure the hospital knows exactly what we want."
"They do now."
"I mean everything."
I understood.
"Only us."
"Only us."
I nodded.
For the first time that day, I felt the need to be firm.
Not angry.
Firm.
I had spent too many years trying to make everyone comfortable.
I wasn't going to do that with Sadie.
A few minutes later, I heard footsteps in the hallway.
They passed our door.
Then stopped.
Someone spoke quietly.
I couldn't make out the words.
Mark looked toward the entrance.
I watched his face.
He seemed to be listening.
But the footsteps eventually moved away.
I let out a breath.
"Maybe we should call my mother."
Mark looked at me.
"Why?"
"Because I want to hear what she says."
He considered that.
Then he nodded.
I picked up my phone.
My mother's name was still visible in the call history.
I stared at it.
I had called her once already that evening.
I remembered how quickly Dad had taken over the conversation.
I remembered his complaints about the chairs.
I remembered the word independent.
I put the phone down.
"No."
Mark waited.
"I don't want to call her again."
"All right."
"If she wants to explain something, she can come here."
He nodded.
That was the first decision I made that evening without worrying about whether my parents would like it.
It felt strange.
But it also felt necessary.
I looked at Sadie again.
She made a tiny sound.
I reached over and touched her cheek.
"You're staying with us, sweetheart."
Mark heard me.
He placed his hand over mine.
"Of course she is."
For a little while, we sat together.
The hospital room was quiet.
Then Sarah returned.
She had finished updating the chart and wanted to check that we had no further questions.
I asked her whether the person who had approached the maternity desk had been allowed to arrange anything.
She shook her head.
"No arrangements were made. Our staff asked for clarification because those decisions belong to the parents."
I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders.
"Did they give you a name?"
Sarah paused.
"I'd rather not speculate about who it was. What matters is that we've documented your instructions."
I appreciated that.
I didn't need a guess.
I needed a boundary.
"Thank you," I said.
She smiled.
"You're welcome."
After she left, Mark finally sat back.
"We still need to eat."
I glanced at his empty hands.
He gave me a tired smile.
"I know. I forgot about the food."
I almost laughed.
"That's all right."
He stood again.
This time, he didn't immediately leave.
He looked toward Sadie.
Then at me.
"Are you sure you're okay with me going?"
I nodded.
"Yes. Just don't take too long."
"I won't."
He kissed my forehead.
Then he left.
I watched the door close.
The empty visitor chairs were still there.
But I wasn't looking at them anymore.
I was thinking about the spare key.
And the person who might have been asking questions about my daughter.
For the first time, I wondered whether my parents had mistaken my silence for permission.
I knew I had allowed that mistake to continue for years.
I wasn't going to allow it anymore.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: After Nine Hours of Waiting, My Mother Finally Walked Into My Room, But She Wasn’t There to Congratulate Me
I Thought Becoming a Mother Would Finally Make My Family See Me Differently, But That Thursday Changed Everything
Part 5 of 8
