“Neither of us caused this,” I said.
We’d been fed different stories and deliberately kept apart, preventing us from comparing them.
A stronger contraction interrupted everything. My doctors said labor was advancing and an emergency birth might be safest. They offered a medical consent in case the babies’ conditions changed. I examined each line. Because it concerned only my care and their delivery, I signed knowingly.
Peter’s lawyer arrived with proposed temporary custody terms before the birth. Naomi blocked his entry, while he argued from the doorway that signing would “protect the babies from uncertainty.”
I studied the document.
“I’m not signing a custody agreement while I’m in labor.”
He continued protesting until hospital security removed him. Obstetrician Dr. Ortiz returned.
“We’re going to deliver the babies now,” she said.
Terrified, I agreed. I was consenting to care for my children, not accepting Peter’s invented arrangement. Nothing about the hospital room felt under my control, yet I understood the choice being offered and why it mattered. That distinction had become essential.
PART 3: The Truth in the Records
