The Changeling

“You must choose which is your baby”, the old woman said to me. Two of them I look upon. My baby was sick the day she came from the womb. Voice weak, a cry barely heard. Breathing difficult, skin a little jaundiced, my beautiful baby has always been sick. How I loved her. Cradling her through the nights. The endless nights. Her loud wails. Her soft whimpers as I kiss her head. The smell of her skin. Her comfort when she snuggles into my chest. The soft songs I had sung to her in the middle of the night. Her little coos at me when our eyes meet. I never knew love like this. Unbreakable. Unconditional. Invincible.

This woman, before me. Ancient and powerful. Her ears pointed, her eyes sharp. Another baby with her. The true baby. My baby. A swap. A changeling. Hers was sick, mine was healthy. And now I have a chance. Choose which baby I want to keep. Let her take back the sick Fae that I have raised or take back my own child that I’ve longed for. And oh, how I longed for her. The failed attempts. The doctor’s appointments. The bad news of advanced aging eggs, remembering my youthful age didn’t matter. The blood draws. The shots in my stomach. The sore breasts. The negative pregnancy tests. The money running out. The prayer after prayer. The constant, unwanted advice. "You just need to take a vacation." "You just need to hold a baby." "You just need to do it under a full moon." "You will get pregnant once you stop trying." The pain I felt. The dreams of me holding her. The way I knew how she smelled already. The way everyone else could but I couldn't. The positive pregnancy test. The elation. The miscarriage. The fall of my marriage. Our one last attempt to save it. A missed period. A baby that decided to stick. The pregnancy. The sore breasts. The blood draws. The birth. The sickness she had. None of it mattered once I held her. The prayer that was answered. The mother I yearned to be screaming and yelling with exhilaration.

The woman, before me. Ancient and powerful. Holding a baby in her arms. Silent. The babies eyes open wide. Looking at us- me and the baby in my arms. For a moment, I think she may recognize me.

“Choose which is your baby”, the woman says again.

And I know which one is mine. Clearly. As my soul yearned for that baby. In another universe, in another life, in another body- I know who my baby is.

“Both.”

The woman blinks twice.

“Both are my babies. They are both mine.”

She is thinking. Opening her mouth to speak.

“I keep both of them because both of them are my babies”, I cut her off.

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Two twin girls. One taller, one shorter. One with rounded ears, one with pointed ears. Both are my babies. I hold them close. I smell their heads. I smile.