‘Sorry Mom, I Couldn’t Leave Them,’ My 16-Year-Old Son Said When He Brought Newborn Twins Home

I looked at the babies in his arms. They were so small and fragile.

“You can’t do this. This isn’t your responsibility,” I whispered, tears burning in my eyes.

“Then whose is it?” Josh shot back. “Dad’s? He already proved he doesn’t care. What if Sylvia doesn’t make it, Mom? What happens to these babies then?”

“We take them back to the hospital right now. This is too much.”

“Mom, please…”

“No.” My voice was firmer now. “Get your shoes on. We’re going back.”

The drive to Mercy General was suffocating. Josh sat in the back seat with the twins, one on each side of him in the baskets we’d hastily grabbed from the garage.

When we arrived, Mrs. Chen met us at the entrance. Her face was tight with concern.

“Jennifer, I’m so sorry. Josh just wanted to…”

“It’s okay. Where’s Sylvia?”

“Room 314. But, Jennifer, you should know… she’s not doing well. The infection spread faster than we anticipated.”

My stomach turned. “How bad?”

Mrs. Chen’s expression said everything.

We took the elevator up in silence. Josh carried both babies like he’d been doing it his entire life, whispering softly to them when they fussed.

When we reached room 314, I knocked gently before pushing the door open.

Sylvia looked worse than I’d imagined. She was pale, almost gray, hooked up to multiple IVs. She couldn’t have been more than 25. When she saw us, tears immediately filled her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know what else to do. I’m all alone, and I’m so sick, and Derek…”

“I know,” I said quietly. “Josh told me.”

“He just left. When they told him it was twins, when they told him about my complications, he said he couldn’t handle it.” She looked at the babies in Josh’s arms. “I don’t even know if I’m going to make it. What happens to them if I don’t?”

Josh spoke up before I could. “We’ll take care of them.”

“Josh…” I started.

“Mom, look at her. Look at these babies. They need us.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Why is this our problem?”

“Because nobody else is!” he shouted back, and then lowered his voice. “Because if we don’t step up, they’re going into the system. Foster care. Separated, maybe. Is that what you want?”

I didn’t have an answer.