The Heart of a Mother

by Julie Clark

When the email arrived, I was getting my nails done. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and assumed it was just another one of the hundreds of emails I’d been fielding regarding the upcoming Planned Parenthood fundraiser I was helping organize. I was going to ignore it.

“Are you okay?” It wasn’t until she asked that I realized I’d been standing, staring at my phone, reading and rereading the results. Fifty percent match. I looked up and gave her a shaky smile. “Yes,” I said. Then I laughed and grabbed my purse. “I have to go.” “But your other hand,” she said. I tossed eighty dollars onto the chair and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

There’s an emotional toll to carrying a baby, giving birth to them, and then giving them away. It eats away at you. The idea of your child out there, not knowing you . . . it’s soul crushing. It’s why I started volunteering at Planned Parenthood during college.

“I’ve seen you in here a lot lately,” she said. “I’m Joanna. What’s your name?” “Nancy,” I said, giving her the first name that popped into my head. Cementing me on this path of lies that I’d chosen.