Circumstances of Birth

It wasn't actually that much money, considering. The years, the families - you'd think it would be more than $20,000. But there it was in a ledger nobody knew existed. His office had been cleaned out long ago, but his children had taken their time clearing out the house. For a while nobody could agree what to do with it, and so everyone took the stuff they wanted right away and just left everything else. If not for the recent tourist boom to the area, they might have argued about it a little longer - but they had finally decided to clear it out, dress it up as best they could and sell it. The house was in a favorable neighborhood for vacation rentals and there were plenty of investors looking for property.

Their father had been the kind of doctor that endeared himself to his patients right away. He could earn the trust of a complete stranger in seconds. When they found the money, and came to understand how it had gotten there, none of them wondered how he was able to do such a thing. He appeared to be everything a doctor should be - upstanding, community-minded, kind, gentle, educated, highly proficient. And he was. Hundreds of families throughout the city could trace their birth to him. He was the first doctor most people would have.

As a father he'd been attentive and kind. Somehow he always had time for each of them, and lost his patience rarely. He was a great dad. And, in a time when misogyny was rampant in marriages, he respected their mother a great deal and was always the first to appreciate her leadership of the family. A great guy all around.

Except, he was also selling babies.

Women would come to him desperate for a solution. He was never an advocate for abortion, but understood the myriad concerns of the women and wanted to help. He spent years feeling inept and helpless, and recognizing that, for these women, their physical health was really the least of their concerns. A miscarriage would be fine with them, ideal actually. In every single mother he saw his own - she'd been just 15 when he was born, and she tried so hard to keep him. But stronger wills prevailed and he was given up. He'd spent years in a group home and was ultimately adopted by a good family. The years in the home had scarred him though, and it was an existence that he didn't wish for any child.

Jeanie and Helen were his first match. It was indeed complicated that time, but once the details were sorted each match followed pretty much the same path. Recognizing that a mother was always a mother, with or without her baby, he came to think of the women as 'Mother' and 'Next Mother'. Mother would live her life as usual throughout her pregnancy, some at home, some elsewhere, but always believing that he had a colleague at an adoption agency that was finding a home for their baby. Next Mother would be told that she would be notified when a baby became available, nothing more. There was no choosing - they got the next baby born. Next Mother would pick up Baby at the office within hours of birth. Next Mothers were not prone to questions. In most cases they had spent years wanting and hoping for a baby and were just as desperate to have a child as Mothers were to not have one.

There was a fee, of course. That fee was flexible, and increased slowly over time, and was sometimes based on how risky he thought the exchange might be, but it was always low and paid by Next Mothers. Most of the money paid for Mother's care, and depending on her circumstances he would give her the money directly and take nothing. But, it was undeniable that he profited from this undertaking, and eventually he had to start keeping track of the matches and money he'd made.

The ledger was small, black and entirely unassuming. It held only the initials of each match, the total fee paid and how much of that fee went to Mother's care, how much was given to her, and how much if any was left for him. He'd set the money aside with the intention of doing something important with it - perhaps a donation, children's center, fund for mothers in need - but none of those plans ever materialized and now it was just there, sitting in a safe with a ledger. And a note. Once he knew he wouldn't survive his illness, he wrote it all down - a confession of sorts.

The only question his children were left with was "Why?". Not why he did it. They could understand that well enough. But, why leave the ledger. And the note. Why not just leave the money with a direction to donate it to his organization of choice? Why explain at all?