Если я останусь

           Neitheronefeltlikeanadultyet.Buttherewasnoquestionthattheywouldhaveme.Momwasadamantlypro-choice.ShehadabumperstickeronthecarthatreadIfyoucan’ttrustmewithachoice,howcanyoutrustmewithachild?Butinhercasethechoicewastokeepme.

           Dadwasmorehesitant.Morefreakedout.Untiltheminutethedoctorpulledmeoutandthenhestartedtocry.

           "That’spoppycock,"hewouldsaywhenMomrecountedthestory."Ididnosuchthing."

           "Youdidn’tcrythen?"Momaskedinsarcasticamusement.

           "Iteared.Ididnotcry."ThenDadwinkedatmeandpantomimedweepinglikeababy.

           BecauseIwastheonlykidinMomandDad’sgroupoffriends,Iwasanovelty.Iwasraisedbythemusiccommunity,withdozensofauntiesanduncleswhotookmeinastheirownlittlefoundling,evenafterIstartedshowingastrangepreferenceforclassicalmusic.Ididn’twantforrealfamily,either.GranandGrampslivednearby,andtheywerehappytotakemeforweekendssoMomandDadcouldactwildandstayoutallnightforoneofDad’sshows.

           AroundthetimeIwasfour,Ithinkmyparentsrealizedthattheywereactuallydoingit—raisingakid—eventhoughtheydidn’thaveatonofmoneyor"real"jobs.Wehadanicehousewithcheaprent.Ihadclothes(eveniftheywerehand-me-downsfrommycousins)andIwasgrowinguphappyandhealthy."Youwerelikeanexperiment,"Dadsaid."Surprisinglysuccessful.Wethoughtitmustbeafluke.Weneededanotherkidasakindofcontrolgroup."

           Theytriedforfouryears