Page 12 of After Anna

“Not really.” Anna pursed her lips, growing serious. Her smooth brow furrowed. “It’s just that I have so many questions, you know, about what happened with you. And why it happened, when I was little. I would really like to hear it from you.”

“Of course.” Maggie felt newly nervous, skipping the small talk.

“That’s why it’s hard to, like, throw myself into your arms.”

“Sure, right.”

“I mean, there are questions.”

“Right, yes, totally.” Maggie nodded, sniffling. She had to get a grip. “And I want to explain everything.”

“Good.”

The waiter came over, an older man, he looked down at them with a professional smile. “Would you ladies like tap or sparkling?”

“Tap is fine, please,” Anna answered, looking up. “And I’d like a Greek salad.”

“Me, too,” Maggie said, to get rid of the waiter.

“You ladies are easy. I’ll be right back.”

Maggie waited until he was gone, tense. “Well, I guess I’ll beginat the beginning. I was so happy when you were born, I really wanted a baby girl and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. But fairly quickly, I developed postpartum psychosis. Have you heard of it?”

Anna frowned slightly. “I’ve heard of postpartum depression. Is it the same thing?”

“No, postpartum psychosis is less common, and I didn’t know what it was, either. Before I go on, I want you to understand this is not a reflection on you, because you deserved all the love in the world, and I did love you very much.” Maggie had been about to sayand I still do, but stopped herself. It was too much too soon for Anna, and Maggie didn’t know if she could explain to such a young person what it felt like to be a mother, how it was something that never left you, even if you lost your baby.

“And to make a long story short, what happened was that one day I just felt in such despair and I thought I was such a terrible mother that you would be better off without me.” Maggie fell silent as a busboy came over, poured two glasses of water, then left. “I heard voices saying ‘let her go, just let her go.’ And that voice came to me one night, when I was alone, standing on our deck in the backyard. You were in my arms, crying. You had colic. I was at the rail.” Maggie felt her heart begin to pound, going back to that evening. “And the neighbor saw me, she called to me and I didn’t hear her, I was in some kind of a trance. I was fighting with the voice, and the voice was telling me to let you go, to drop you. But there was still a healthy part of me that knew that I loved you and could never hurt you, and I knew that the voice was an illness that I had. A mental illness.”

Anna’s eyes widened as she listened, though she said nothing.

“Before I knew it, the neighbor was standing next to me and I said, ‘please take this baby, she’ll be better off without me.’” Maggie felt tears come to her eyes, but she blinked them away. “And I told her to call the police and have them come get me. I knew I needed professional help. I committed myself that very night.”

“Is this true?” Anna tilted her head, skeptical.

“Absolutely.”

“Where was Dad, that night?”

“He was working on his app, coding around the clock, when he wasn’t at school. He hadn’t sold it yet.” Maggie didn’t add that Florian was never around, ever. It was as if she and the baby didn’t exist. She used to wonder why he’d married her, until she knew. He’d dumped her as soon as he got his graduate degree. He’d looked gleeful in the pictures.

“Can you, like, prove what you’re saying is true? About the postpartum psychosis?”

“Yes.” Maggie hid her dismay. It was obvious Anna didn’t believe her, for some reason. “I had extensive treatment, inpatient, and then outpatient therapy and meds. And finally it resolved. It took almost a year.”

“And is that why you abused me? Why you hit me?”

Maggie gasped, shocked. “What? No, never. I neverabusedyou.”

“You never hit me? You never beat me?” Anne’s eyes widened, an incredulous blue.

“No, never!” Maggie recoiled. “What makes you say that?”

“Dad said you used to beat me. He said that’s why you lost custody. The judge said you were unfit because you abused me.”

“That’s not true!” Maggie shot back, appalled. She’d assumed that Florian would have told Anna that she was crazy, but this was far worse. This was a total lie. “Anna, your dad really told you that?”

“Yes.”