Karin Alvtegen - Missing

'Why did you become homeless? Haven't you ever lived any place?'

She sighed.

I did live somewhere once.' 'Where?'

'Somewhere in Småland.' 'Why did you leave?' it's a long story.'

He turned his head and looked at her.

'Go ahead, I'd like to hear it. It's not as if, like, we're in a hurry.'

They had supported her in the shower afterwards and then wheeled her across to the maternity ward. In four of the five beds in the room sat recently delivered mothers with their babies .They all greeted her pleasantly when she was placed in a bed next to the window, but she immediately rolled over on her side. The window had blue-and-white striped curtains. A small border had come off the bottom on one of them. Looking out meant that she didn't have to see them, but she couldn't keep out the sounds.

Initially, no one asked her anything. They were all preoccupied with minding their own new-born babies.

She had been longing to sleep on her front, but it was still impossible. Her belly was still really big, even though it was empty. She could sense it's sudden emptiness. Her breasts were aching.

They came to see after about an hour. First, they got her to sit up, then stand and walk. Walking hurt. She could feel the tense pain from the stitches they'd used to sew her up with. Or at least, that's what they said it was.

Next, she was to speak with the doctor. She decided to stand instead of accepting his offer of a chair. He nodded at her and started leafing through her notes.

'Now Sibylla, this seems to have gone very well.'

She said nothing and he looked up at her quickly, before returning to the brown folder.

'Tell me, how are feeling?'

Empty, hollow. Used up and abandoned.

'What was it?'

He looked up again.

'Was what?'

'The baby, what kind was it?'

This bothered him, maybe because he was the one meant to ask the questions. 'A male.'

He bent over the notes.

A little boy. She had given birth to a little boy with dark hair.

'Please, can't I see him?'

He cleared his throat, apparently displeased with her unexpected line of talk.

'No, I'm afraid not. It's routine here, nothing personal. In cases such as yours, it has proved to be the best policy. For the mother's own sake, you see.'

Ah yes, for her sake. Why didn't it ever occur to anyone that she should be asked about what was best for her? How come they all knew already what was best?

He quickly finished their talk. When she returned to her room, the women were smiling in welcome. A nurse helped her into bed and she turned her back at all of them.

During the afternoon visiting-hour, fathers and relations and friends poured into the room to admire the babies. The visitors pretended not to see her back.

In the evening, only the mother in the next bed had an unbroken night's sleep. Maternal duties kept the rest of them awake. She heard them chatting quietly about their babies. He cries such a lot, I think it's his slow bowels. She always prefers the left breast – knows what she wants already, little madam. Look, he almost smiled, isn't he lovely!

She slowly got out of bed. If she hauled herself up sideways, it only hurt just before her feet took her weight.

The corridor outside was empty. She walked past the window to the nurses' station without anybody noticing her. The babies slept next door. She looked into the babies' room and it was empty apart from one plastic box on wheels in the middle of the floor. It was a baby-carrier of the kind that was wheeled along to the other mothers in the ward. Her heart was pounding as she cautiously closed the door behind her and tiptoed into the room. A little head.

A tiny head, covered in dark hair. This was her child. Now she was trembling all over. Looking intently into the cot, she saw her baby's ID number on the note behind his head.

Her son.

She slapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself from moaning aloud. He had been part of her and grown inside her. Now he was lying there, all alone. She had abandoned her baby boy.

He was so very tiny, lying there on his side sleeping. She could have made a pillow for his head with the palm of her hand. Gently, with one finger, she stroked the dark hair. He twitched and drew a deep breath, making a little noise like a sob. She bent over him, putting her nose to his ear.

This was intolerable. The emotion was welling up suddenly inside her.

They shouldn't have been allowed to do this, not for any reason. He was her child. They had to kill her before she let him go. She knew with her whole being that she could never betray him, never abandon him. Never leave him alone in a plastic box crying himself to sleep.

Now she had become more courageous. She slid her hands carefully underneath his small body and lifted him. She held him close, very close, feeling that this was how it should be.

He stayed asleep. She inhaled his baby smell with the tears running down her cheeks. She was cradling her little boy in her arms. Now she was no longer alone.

The door opened.

'What are you doing?'

She stayed where she was. She recognised the nurse, who had helped her into the doctor's room earlier that day.

'Sibylla, you must put the baby down. Come on. Let's go back to the ward now.' 'He's my son.'

The nurse seemed uncertain about what to do, but reached out her arms in order to take the baby away. Sibylla turned her back.

'I'm not letting go of him.'

Now she felt the other woman's hand on her shoulder. She shrugged to get free and the movement woke the child in her arms. He whined a little, but stopped when she gently stroked his head.

'Hush, hush my darling. Mummy's here.'

The nurse was on her way out of the room. Sibylla put her hand behind his head to get a better look at his face. His eyes had opened, small dark blue eyes moving about in order to find something to focus on.

A moment later, they were back. Four of them this time and one of them was a man. He walked straight up to Sibylla and spoke to her authoritatively.

'Put the baby down now.'

'He's my baby.'

The man hesitated for a moment, Then he pulled out a chair for her.

'Why don't you sit down?' 'No thanks. Sitting still hurts.' One of the others came up to her.

'Listen, Sibylla, behaving like this doesn't solve anything. You're just making it worse for yourself.' 'Worse? How?'

They looked at each other in turn. One of them left the room.

'Sibylla, everyone has agreed the child is to be adopted. He'll have the best possible opportunities, so you mustn't worry.'

'I haven't agreed to anything. And I want to keep him.'

'Sibylla, I know it's hard and I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do about it, you know.'

They were crowding her.

Three against one and the fourth presumably on her way back. She might bring reinforcements. Everyone was against her, they were all playing in the opposing team. She was facing them alone, with only her baby on her side.

The two of them against the rest of the world. So what? She wouldn't abandon him.

The man pushed the chair away.

'There are two ways to deal with this situation. Either you put him back in his cot yourself and leave quietly. Or else we'll have to force you.'

Her heart was beating hard. They were going to take him away again.

'Please, can't you see? I'm his mother. You know that. You mustn't take him away, he's all I've got.'

The tears were coming now. Her whole body shook and her head was spinning. She closed her eyes. I shall not fall ill again. Not ill.

When she opened her eyes again, it was too late.

The man was about to leave the room, holding her son in his arms. Two other men in white clothes had arrived. They grabbed her arms.

Her child was crying. She could hear the sound disappearing down the corridor.