“Lena, have you lost your mind? We’ve just had our own baby!” Alexey slammed the wardrobe door irritably. “Now you’re talking about adoption?”
Elena stood at the window, gazing at the dull February day. The maternity hospital was on the outskirts of their small town, and from the window, she could see rows of gloomy five-story buildings and bare tree branches.
“Haven’t you seen him, Lyosha? He’s so tiny… Barely three months old, and already nobody loves him,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to warm up.
It all started about a week earlier. Elena was preparing to go home with their newborn daughter, Dasha, when she heard a baby crying from the next room. The cry was desperate, heartbreaking—as if the child knew nobody would answer.
“His mother rejected him right here in the maternity ward,” the elderly nurse, Nadia Petrovna, softly explained when she noticed Elena’s interest. “Little Vanechka. He’s healthy and strong, but no one wants him.”
Since that day, something had broken inside Elena’s heart. She couldn’t peacefully watch her daughter sleep anymore without thinking about the abandoned child nearby—left without gentle words, without affectionate touches, without love.
“Lyosha, maybe we should at least inquire about the paperwork? Just ask,” Elena turned to her husband. “Maybe this is a sign that we should help…”
“A sign?” Alexey responded bitterly. “The only sign I see is that you’re not yourself after giving birth. We have a mortgage, Lena. A one-room apartment. I’m the only one earning money. Another child—is that even realistic?”
“We’ll manage,” Elena insisted stubbornly. “In six months, I’ll return to work at the school. You know I’m qualified…”
“Sure,” Alexey interrupted. “And until then, you’ll handle two infants simultaneously. Do you realize what you’re suggesting?”
At that moment, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Victoria, Elena’s school friend, entered the room.
“Oh, family council?” she asked, observing their tense faces. “What’s happening?”
“Lena’s lost her mind,” Alexey grumbled. “She wants us to adopt another baby. Right now.”
“What do you mean ‘another’?” Victoria asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“There’s a little boy… abandoned,” Elena explained, her voice shaking. “Vanechka. He’s only three months old.”
Victoria raised her eyebrows. “That’s surprising! What do the doctors say?”
“We haven’t asked yet,” Elena glanced sideways at Alexey. “Lyosha is against it.”
“Of course I am!” Alexey exclaimed. “At least one person in this family must think clearly! We’ve just had a daughter, and we barely know how to care for her—now you want to add another?”
His voice was filled with anger and fear—fear of immense responsibility, fear of uncertainty, fear of future problems.
“Lyosha, sit down,” Victoria said gently. “Let’s talk calmly.”
He sat down heavily, rubbing his face tiredly. “What is there to discuss? This is madness.”
“Why madness?” Victoria shrugged. “People cope with far worse. My colleague has three adopted children, and they’re doing well. They’re happy.”
“Your colleague’s husband is a businessman, if I’m not mistaken,” Alexey replied bitterly. “I’m just an ordinary engineer. Our apartment isn’t even a proper place—just a studio in a Khrushchev-era building.”
“The housing issue can be solved,” Victoria reasoned. “You could use maternity capital…”
“Vic, are you out of your mind too?” Alexey jumped up. “What maternity capital? What adoption? We’ve just had our daughter! We must devote all our energy to her!”
Right then, Dasha began to cry. Elena quickly went to her crib and picked her up. Almost immediately, the baby quieted down, nestling into her mother’s shoulder.
“You see!” Alexey gestured emphatically. “This is your priority, Lena! Yet you’re thinking about someone else’s child…”
“They’re not strangers,” Elena murmured softly, rocking her daughter. “They belong to no one. That’s the difference.”
A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by Dasha’s soft breathing and muffled voices from the corridor.
“Lyosha,” Victoria eventually spoke up. “Maybe you should at least see the little boy. You’ve never even met him.”
“Why?” Alexey asked tiredly. “So it’ll be even harder to let go of this crazy idea later?”
“Because your wife has already seen him,” Victoria calmly responded. “And you need to understand what she feels, otherwise this conversation will always haunt you.”
Alexey remained silent for a long moment, staring out the window. Then he finally nodded slowly. “Fine. Let’s go see him. But understand, Lena, this doesn’t mean anything. No promises.”
“Of course,” Elena quickly agreed. “We’ll just take a look.”
They left Dasha with Victoria and headed to the next ward. Elderly nurse Nadia Petrovna saw them approaching and smiled knowingly. “Here for Vanechka? One moment, please.”
She disappeared briefly and returned holding a small bundle—a fragile little bundle with dark hair barely visible on his tiny head.
“Here’s our little one,” the nurse said affectionately. “Would you like to hold him?”
Elena looked at Alexey, who stood frozen, eyes wide as he watched the baby.
“Let me,” Elena said decisively, extending her arms.
Vanechka was surprisingly sturdy. He stirred slightly, making a sleepy sound, then opened his eyes—deep brown, almost black.
“Hello there,” Elena whispered gently, unaware of a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Lena…” Alexey said hoarsely. “Let me hold him too…”
Awkwardly, Alexey took the baby, supporting his tiny head carefully. Vanechka stared up at him seriously and attentively.
“He looks just like my little brother,” Alexey suddenly whispered. “The same deep gaze… Mature for his age.”
“You had a brother?” Elena was astonished; after five years of marriage, he’d never mentioned this before.
Alexey paused, gently rocking the baby. “I did. He died as a child, at four years old.”
His voice cracked slightly. Elena softly placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I didn’t want to bring up the pain again,” he murmured. “After his death, my mother… she never recovered. She blamed herself, said she’d been neglectful. Then I was born—late, unwanted. She could never fully love me.”
Suddenly, Elena understood everything clearly—his reserved nature, the strained relationship with his mother, and his fear of having a second child.
“I’m sorry,” Nadia Petrovna quietly interrupted. “It’s feeding time.”
Reluctantly, Alexey handed the baby back. “Can we come again?” he asked hesitantly.
“Of course,” the nurse smiled. “Come often. He needs to get used to people.”
They returned quietly to their room. Victoria looked at them curiously. “So, how was it?”
“I don’t know,” Alexey rubbed his temples. “It’s complicated.”
“I think it’s simple,” Victoria said confidently. “You saw the boy—healthy, beautiful. Clearly, you liked him.”
“That’s not the issue,” Alexey shook his head. “It’s the responsibility. The preparation. The resources.”
“And if you had an unexpected child naturally, would everything have been planned?” Victoria laughed. “Life is unpredictable. The main thing is love. The rest will follow.”
Her words struck deeply. Elena looked at her sleeping daughter, then at Alexey. “Lyosha, maybe we should check the paperwork? Nothing terrible in just getting informed.”
The next few weeks were filled with paperwork, consultations, and discussions. Eventually, Alexey took charge of the process himself.
“You know,” Alexey admitted one evening, rocking Dasha, “maybe we really should give this a try.”
“You’re serious?” Elena whispered.
“More serious than ever,” he smiled sadly. “I’ve thought a lot about my childhood, my brother… my fears. And seeing Vanechka… I can’t forget him.”
They embraced tightly, knowing the challenges ahead.
And despite the struggles, they succeeded. Their family grew strong through love, not blood. Years later, their choice would lead them to adopt again—a teenage girl named Nastya—proving once more that love truly has no boundaries.