what once was

day eleven

Lorenzo and I had a child.

I had a child? My body had nurtured and cared for a child. I had brought a whole human being into this world. Sounded so surreal to me. I couldn't shake those thoughts away. Lorenzo never got the chance to speak to me. When he came back from work, I was already asleep. Florence had told me, how she watched him tuck me in and kiss me good night. I had no recollection of that, I didn't want to. I only wanted to find out more about my child, where ever they were. I had this yearning feeling to search for him/her. To know him or her... that's my child. From all the overthinking I'd done, I figure they were probably six or seven years old. Who were the Smiths family and—

— couple of years ago.

"Francisco Dos Santos!" Lorenzo envisioned leaning against the headboard. A bit out of it, I gave him a tired smile as I laid on his bare chest. I could hear his heart take rhythmic beats. I traced the trail of dark hair leading down to his abdomen and lower area that was covered by the sheets.

"Just because we stay in San Francisco—"

Lorenzo laughed. "It's actually a Portuguese name that I always took a liking to. It's merely a coincidence that we reside in San Francisco."

"Oh.. but remember it's going to be Francisco Smith..."

"Right..." The mood suddenly turned into a somber sad one.

"We should be glad they're allowing us to name him."

"I know bello..." Lorenzo replied sadly. "He is going to be one handsome very very handsome young man."

I smiled as I felt Lorenzo rub circles on my seven months baby bump.

"Very." I curtly replied then a thought crossed my mind.

"I hope he doesn't hate us."

Lorenzo frowned. "He won't hate us. He will thank us because this isn't a life to bring up a child into. It's a big sacrifice but he will understand."

-

We got ready for our appointment with the care-worker  who was taking care of our case. I had so many questions. At this point Lorenzo and the social worker's worst fear was that I'd change my mind last minute after all the preparations done been done. After selecting and meeting the adoptive parents. After the adoptive parents had joined in on every appointment and taken care and paid for all my prenatal needs and hospital bills.

For goodness sake, they had already bought him clothes and made him a themed nursery. It hurt, it hurt a lot that I couldn't do that for my own child. I couldn't afford to, we couldn't afford to. School and being pregnant was definitely hard to do but Lorenzo was always by my side and supportive in every way he could possible.

The Smith's had a nine year old adopted girl whom they were taking great care of, I knew they'd give my child a good life. I had also taken into consideration race and other things to take into accountability. It was great that the Smiths older child was mixed race as well. It would definitely make Francisco feel more comfortable and feel at home. Regardless of the Smith family being white, they had expressed how open minded they were in allowing their daughter to celebrate their her culture and where she comes from. Allowing her to know her background and heritage as well as her educating themselves on Black Lives Matter. I appreciated all their efforts. They were definitely excited. Lorenzo and I could tell Francisco would be welcomed in a loving home.

"I'm going to go through this agreement with you both that way you fully understand and make the right decision for Francisco." Sarah, our social worker/adoption agent told us. Lorenzo held my hand and gave it a light squeeze to let me know, he was here and we were doing this together. Sarah had been so caring and understanding, suppose it was her job. Hearing everyone call our child by a name Lorenzo and I had both decided on made me so happy. My little Angel, Francisco.