My Baby
Wednesday 9th October, Story #283/366

Everytime I see that heavy belly I want to punch something. Break something.
Roy and I tried for years. One by one, our friends shared their happy news. We couldn't avoid them. Social media meant that we saw them even when we didn't see them. It felt like every month brought another announcement.
At first, I unfollowed them, but it got so I'd have to unfollow almost all my friends.
Once the baby arrived, the onslaught of pictures became relentless.
We battled on. Roy had his feelings, but mine were worse. He wasn't on social media much, and when it got bad, he had the sense to be on it even less. Me? It was a scab I had to pick.
I asked my little sister Daria if she'd be a surrogate. Her eggs were only twenty-five. She said No.
Two years of disappointment later, passion a dwindling dot in the rear-view, the baby-shaped gap looming large in our lives... I asked again. If the tables were reversed, I'd have done it for her. She's my sister. Surely, if she loved me as a sister, she'd do this?
Her excuses were empty things, and I exposed them as such. Her eyes went cold. Brittle.
We gathered at Mum's for Christmas. I could hardly bear the daggers of sympathy, felt them in my still-flat torso. Well, I said, Daria isn't ready yet, but when she is...
I hardly heard the Oh that's wonderful because the gaze had shifted to above my shoulder... she's right behind me isn't she?
I didn't want to tell you like this, Serena, she said in a stony voice. I've told you No. The fact is, I'm infertile too. So please stop asking.
The scab is a gaping wound in my abdomen. Still, I pick. I devour her ghastly pregnancy photos. I tell her I'm happy for her, but she must see my pained grimace is far from a joyous smile. She doesn't care that it hurts, that she lied, that she's not happy enough and too happy all at once.
That's my baby. It should be my baby. I dream of cutting her open, plucking my baby from her at the root and putting her in this wound, where she belongs.
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CONTENT WARNING FOR INFERTILITY/SURROGACY
Word count: 366
(NB. This excludes the title, subtitle, and author's note.)
Submitted on Wednesday 9th October at 22:50
Disclaimer: Any similarity to any person alive or dead is purely coincidental.
A Year of Stories: I'm writing (and submitting, here) a story every day this year. This continues my 283 daily microfiction story streak since 1st January.
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About the Creator
L.C. Schäfer
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I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!
Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz



Comments (13)
If you enhanced your story a bit, it could be a tale akin to Rosemary's Baby or something similar. Quite a human - and yet, not so human - tale.
It started out sad and I really felt for the narrator, and then the dark turn... This was excellent - thanks for sharing!
This turned form sad to scary at the snap of a neck... Beautifully done LC!
She had my sympathy right up the end. Then, yikes!
Hahahahahahahha this reminded me of a true crime article I wrote where Lisa Montgomery cuts open Bobbie Jo Stinnett's pregnant belly, killing her in the process and kidnapping the baby
Sad abd disturbing at the same time. You knew something was goign to happen but just her having the thought is almost worse
Oof. That’s a right mess. Those family get togethers are going to be awful. Felt really sorry for Serena but…. Great writing.
This is a really intriguing piece. Well done, LC!
Whoa. I feel for Serena too. And this really is sibling rivalry at its height!
My only question, does she want to have a child for the experience of having one or to be a parent and be responsible for raising a child?
Oh, this is so heartbreaking! I really feel for the Serena character, even if the image she provides at the end is a bit unnerving. Great job.
Wow 🧐
Another great story with a disturbing reveal! Talk about rubbing salt in a wound! Did you ever see the movie Raising Arizona?