Baby Me's Arc

Chapter 6 of 7

The pony session ended and the warm feeling stayed with her through the days after. Then one morning Mom dressed her and the bundle in underwear only, nothing else. Dad carried them both to the car and they drove to a building that smelled sharp and clean. Inside, the floors gleamed white and stretched long ahead. People in white coats stood in a group at the far end, watching. Mom set her down on the cold floor beside the bundle. One of the white coats pointed down the hallway and said something to Mom about walking. Mom's hands left her shoulders. The bundle started forward, uncertain, and she followed because that's what the hands had directed them to do. But halfway down the bright hallway she realized no one was walking with them. The white coats were just standing there, staring. Their eyes moved over her bare skin like the camera flash had, except colder. She stopped walking. The wanting rose sharp in her chest — not to keep going, but to be picked up right now. Mom called her name from behind. She turned and saw Mom's arms hanging at her sides, not reaching. The white coats wrote things on papers. One of them gestured for her to keep walking. She looked down at her own bare legs against the bright floor and understood: they wanted to see her move, not hold her. She was supposed to keep walking alone while strangers watched. The bundle had already reached the end and stood waiting. She took one more step, then another, but each one felt wrong. Her feet wanted to run back to Mom but she kept them moving forward because Mom's voice had told her to. When she finally reached the end, Mom came and picked her up, but the hands felt different now — like they'd let something happen that shouldn't have. That night she lay in her crib and the sharp smell still clung to her skin. She'd walked when they told her to walk, kept moving when she wanted to stop, and Mom's hands had stayed back the whole time. She'd learned something new: sometimes the warm hands put you down and then don't come, even when you need them to. Sometimes they choose to stand back and let strangers look at you instead. The bundle slept in the bassinet across the room, but she stayed awake, testing the weight of this knowledge. The waiting felt different now. Heavier.