I looked around her dad’s tiny little cottage. As the pastor of the church, he was allowed a small house. That was how we’d met. Her dad was counseling me on responsibility.

Julia sniffed. “I want him to have so much more than this. The adoptive family…they want him so bad.”

I was away on a mission trip when Julia first found out she was pregnant. She’d sent word to Mexico, but it had taken a few weeks for me to gather enough airfare money to get home. My mission trip wasn’t supposed to be over for quite some time, but I’d come home straightaway after hearing the news.

I never should have left in the first place.

“I want him,” I said. I pounded my fist into my chest. “You can’t give him away without my permission.”

“I could have just had an abortion and you never would have known,” she said quietly.

“But you didn’t. And now I do know. And now I want him. You can’t give him up for adoption when he has a father who wants him.”

She started to cry. “But I have dreams. And they’re going to pay for me to go to school. They like me. And they said we can visit him, that we can check up on him.” She was pleading with me.

“How much money?”

“You’re broke, Tag. Does it matter? Anything they can give him is better than what we can. Can’t you see that?”

She was wrong. I could love him. “I want him,” I repeated.

“And I want to go to school. I want to be better than…this.” She motioned to the room around her. My baby was no bigger than an apple at that point. And she wanted to give him away.

“What if I gave you the same amount of money?” I asked.

She scoffed. “Where would you get that much money?”

My sisters. Jenny and Jessica. They’re loaded. “I’ll get it.”

“Why do you have to make this so difficult?” She heaved a sigh. “Just let him have a good life.”

“I will.” With me.

Her eyes got big and wide. “You’ll sign the papers?”

“No. I’ll get you the money.”

Her face fell. I hated disappointing her, but I wasn’t going to let him go.

“This doesn’t feel right,” she said.

I crossed the room to stand in front of her and tipped her face up to mine. “None of this feels right. We should be a family.”

She stepped back, creating a wide chasm between us. “You left.”

“You told me to go!”

“You said you needed it.”

“It was for the church,” I rushed to say.

“Sometimes I think you love your religion more than you love me.”

“I can change,” I tried.

She shook her head. “It’s too late.”

Julia jerks me out of my reverie when she screams and bears down on my fingers. Her belly ripples and moves and the nurse tells me I can look down. I haven’t seen any parts of Julia in months, so I don’t feel quite right about looking at her vagina, but the draw is too strong. Her legs are parted and I watch him as he slides into the world. The nurse catches him and they lift him to lay him on her belly.

“No,” Julia says. She closes her eyes and looks away. A tear runs down her cheek.

“Julia, please,” I say. If she sees him just once, she’ll change her mind. I’m sure of it.

“Take him away.”

He’s crying now, and the sound is music to my ears. I walk over to the bassinette where they’re cleaning him and look down into his perfect little face. He has my coloring and my hair. “You want to hold him, Dad?” the nurse asks. She looks askance at Julia. But Julia is still staring in the other direction.

“Yes, please,” I say. I take him from her and pull him into my chest. “Hello, Benji.” He’s only minutes old and I’m already in love with him. I can’t imagine how Julia could give this up. “Are you sure, Julia?” I ask her.

“I’m sure,” she says definitely. She’s still refusing to look.

They move us to a different room, one away from Julia. Apparently, it’s what they do in adoption situations and that’s how they’re treating this.

I spend the night with my son in his own room, and I have no idea where Julia is. A nurse comes into the room and says, “The baby’s mother would like to see you. She’s about to be discharged.” I look toward Benji’s crib. “I’ll watch him. Go ahead,” she says gently. She pats my shoulder.

She gives me Julia’s room number and I go there. She’s dressed in some baggy pants and a loose-fitting top and she has a bag over her shoulder. “Are you leaving?” I ask.

She nods, and a tear slides down her cheek.

“Julia…” I want to hold her, but I don’t know if I have the right.

“Don’t make it any harder,” she says quietly. “Do you have the money?”

I reach into my pocket and take out the cashier’s check for forty thousand dollars. I used the rest of the original fifty thousand to buy some baby stuff, and I paid an attorney to take care of the legal stuff so Julia could sign over her rights and I could get custody.

And to finalize the divorce.

“Thank you,” she says as she takes the check.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“It would have been easier if he’d gone to a different family,” she says. “This way, I’ll always know he’s with you and that he’s not with me, and he’ll know it too.”