It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…

Three babies, each given the spark of life, each heading towards different paths that lay before them…

Baby One to an excited couple, anxious and exhilarated at the thought of finally becoming parents after several miscarriages, Baby Two to a frightened thirteen year old girl and a long gone boy, and Baby Three to a seventeen year old honor student and her eighteen year old boyfriend.

All of the babies grew in size each day, with one’s progress being charted meticulously and compared to what was in all the baby books and the other two’s growth anxiously watched on the calendar.

Around the eight week point, Baby Three’s life was abruptly ended by abortion at the behest of the maternal grandfather.  You see, the mother was from one of the community’s fine upstanding families, her dad being the principal at the local high school.  An unwed daughter of the man who was constantly lecturing the student body about behavior, morals and school spirit producing his first grandchild in such a way just wouldn’t do. 

Babies One and Two continued on their journey.  Again, Baby One received everything to guarantee a healthy beginning, with prenatal care and scrupulous attention to diet on her mother’s part.  Baby Two plodded on, catching whatever sustenance she could obtain, competing for nutrients from her still maturing young mother, a child herself.

Seven months had passed.  Baby One was right on track and doing well.  Baby Two was in trouble and fighting to survive. The weeks of minimal nutrition and no medical care were taking their toll.  Her mom gave birth in a flurry of pain and secrecy, giving a false name upon admission to the hospital.  The birth went well, but the baby was suffering with respiratory distress and other premature birth issues.  A nurse went to advise the mother, but upon entering the room, discovered that she was gone, never to be found.  Baby Two then spent that first month in an incubator fighting for her life.

Baby One was born right on time and placed into the loving hands of her mom and dad, grandparents, aunts and uncles and myriad cousins. Baby Two struggled on through various bouts of bronchitis and pneumonia for the next eight months while in foster care.

But at the end of that time, Baby Two was handed to a U.S. soldier and flown to the United States, being placed in the loving hands of her new mom and dad, grandparents, aunts and uncles and many loving friends upon arrival at the airport gate.  Her new home was right down the street from Baby One and the little girls spent almost everyday of their childhood together.

I often wonder what Baby Three would have been like. He or she would be 25 years old right now and have several siblings, for the parents eventually did get married.  I know this because I went to high school with them and Baby One’s mom is my neighbor and friend.  She and I have spent many happy years raising our kids, because Baby Two is my daughter!

Please note: Certain details have been slightly changed to assure anonymity, but this story did happen.