his breath on her cheek. And the only thing Willa could feel was guilt. Months earlier she had wanted to get rid of the baby and now he was dead. She couldn’t help wondering if things might have turned out differently if she had never let an abortion cross her mind. And as Miles and Jade held her hands while she pushed, all she could think about was how much they would hate her if they knew.
On December 2, 1981, at 8:32 p.m. Jamal Thomas Caldwell was born. He weighed eight pounds, three ounces, and was twenty-one inches long. Jade held him first and just stared at him for a while. She had prepared herself to see something creepy but Jamal looked so cute. He just seemed like he was sleeping and the sweet expression on his face made her smile. Jade wanted to talk to him
but knew if she opened her mouth only sobs would escape. So she gave Jamal a kiss on the cheek before handing him to her dad. She had seen her mother cry lots of times but something about seeing Miles cry was unbearable and it hurt deep in her heart. So she walked to the restroom at the end of the hallway, locked the door to the stall, and sobbed like she never had before. A part of her was dead—her sweet baby brother– and there was absolutely nothing that could be done about it.
Dorothea, who had moved back to Tuskegee, Alabama to escape the harsh Indiana winters, took the first flight out and was there the next day. She made all the funeral arrangements as neither Miles nor Willa was able to. She also got the crib disassembled and boxed up any and every thing associated with the baby. Miles’s best friends came by the apartment to take everything to storage. Whenever Miles and Willa were ready they could decide what to do with it. For the time being, it was best that neither of them had to see it.
On December 7th, with their family and friends surrounding them, Miles and Willa laid their son to rest. They were devastated and completely unprepared to deal with such heartache. Sadder still was the fact that it took that tragedy for Willa and her mother to relate to one another. They both knew the pain of burying a child and it somehow bonded them in a way nothing else had. Although she’d found Dorothea’s comments all those years ago to be cruel, Willa finally understood what she meant. The pain of giving up a child for adoption was nothing in comparison to putting one in the ground. She often imagined Justin going to school, playing sports, or just being happy. And it still hurt not to be a part of it, but it gave Willa comfort to know it was happening somewhere in the world. Jamal, unfortunately, would never get the chance to do any of those things, with or without her. And that was unbearable.
Just when Willa thought she couldn’t hurt any more, she overheard a conversation that broke what little was left of her heart. Jade was crying, asking Dorothea what Jamal ever did to deserve to die. Then she said it would have been better if she had been the one to die since her parents never wanted her anyway.
“No, baby,” Dorothea cried, as she held her granddaughter tight. “Don’t you ever think something like that, you hear me? Your mom and dad both love you. We all love you, baby girl. Why would you think they didn’t want you?”
“All I ever hear is what a mistake I was or how if they had it all to do over again I wouldn’t be here. It’s like me coming into the world ruined their lives and made everything so hard. But they were happy about Jamal. They wanted him, not me,” she cried.
Willa lay in her bed sobbing too. She hated knowing Jade was hurting so much. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to get up to go comfort her daughter. As much as she wanted to tell Jade she’d always wanted her, Willa knew that wasn’t completely true. She did love Jade, but there were plenty of times when she didn’t
want the responsibility of raising her. And knowing she was actually going to abort Jamal made Willa feel lower than dirt. She cried