“Yes, Mom. She’s a girl.”
My mother squealed with excitement.
“Oh, wonderful! When can I come and meet my granddaughter?”
I hesitated.
“There’s something unusual about her appearance. The doctors are examining her.”
“What do you mean?”
I explained what we had learned about Danielle’s brother and the possibility that our daughter had albinism.
My mother’s tone immediately changed.
“Marcus, you need to be careful.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A baby doesn’t look like that for no reason. Are you absolutely certain Danielle hasn’t been hiding something from you?”
I closed my eyes.
Those were the words I had already been telling myself.
Hearing them from my mother made the suspicion feel even stronger.
Then she said something that shocked me.
“Don’t put your name on anything until you have answers. Think about your reputation.”
“My reputation?”
“You need to protect yourself, Marcus. What if she isn’t your daughter?”
I looked around the nursery.
The crib.
The blankets.
The clothes I had chosen with such excitement.
Suddenly, my mother’s words sounded unbearably cruel.
“What if she is my daughter?” I asked.
My mother fell silent.
“Marcus, I’m only trying to protect you.”
“No, Mom. You’re encouraging me to reject a newborn because she looks different.”
I ended the call.
For several minutes, I sat in the quiet room, thinking about the brother Danielle had lost.
I thought about how his appearance had led people to question his place in his own family.
And now, decades later, I was standing at the same crossroads.
My daughter deserved better.
I returned to the hospital that night.
Danielle was awake, holding our baby close to her chest.
When I entered, she looked at me cautiously.
“Are you going to leave us?” she asked.
The question hurt.
I sat beside her.
“I was frightened today. I let that fear turn into an accusation, and I’m sorry.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
“But I need to ask you something.”
She nodded.
“Are you certain there is nothing else I should know?”
Danielle looked down at our daughter.
“There is one more thing.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
She took a deep breath.
“My mother told me that Samuel’s father had also been accused of cheating because of his appearance. My parents’ marriage almost ended over the same misunderstanding.”
I stared at her.
