From the same mother who hadn’t called me once during my entire pregnancy. The same woman who ignored my calls when I went into labor at 3 a.m. and had to take an Uber to the hospital because I had no one else.
And now she wanted money.
My name is Maya. I’m 20 years old, and two weeks ago I gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl completely alone.
No mother holding my hand.
No father waiting nervously outside the delivery room.
Just me, a nurse named Patricia who stayed late because she felt sorry for me, and the overwhelming fear of becoming a parent when I still felt like a child myself.
Six months earlier, I told my boyfriend Derek that I was pregnant. We had been together for almost two years, and I honestly thought he would be happy.
Instead, he looked at me like I had just told him I was sick.
Three days later, all of his things were gone from our apartment. He moved to Portland with a girl he met online and blocked me everywhere.
Just like that, the father of my child disappeared.
