How long is always?

8 days

Rachel sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. She had just endured hours of torture and the worst pain imaginable and this was the result.

A baby girl.

Rachel didn't even want a baby to begin with. She only realised she was pregnant after the divorce had been finalised. She blamed her ex. She blamed him so much, but she also blamed the baby. Only a few hours old and she was already being blamed for something that was completely out of her control.

She wanted a boy. Well, maybe wanted is too strong of a word. She would have preferred a boy.

"Oh well." Rachel sighed. "I suppose I'd better name you then."

Honestly, she had no name ideas. She sat and thought for a minute, trying to come up with something, anything, but her mind was blank. 

Rachel heard a shout from down the hall. "Rebecca, we're gonna need back-up in room 204. He's going into cardiac arrest. Hurry! Quickly!"

'Rebecca.' She thought. Hmmm. "That'll have to do." She whispered scrawling the name onto the birth certificate. She couldn't remember if it had one 'c' or two at the end so she just left it with one and then handed the paper to the nurse to be finalised. 

She was interrupted by a knock at the hospital room door. It was her best friend, Cathy. 

"God, what do you want now!" She demanded, exhasperated with the woman.

"Although very flattering, I'm not God, I'm Cathy. Can you say that? Or has pregnancy fried your brain as well?" She joked.

"Ha ha." Rachel deadpanned, glaring at her friend. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to see if you needed any help with the tiny human."

"I'm fine. I can deal with her on my own."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm always sure. When have I never been sure?"

"Always?"

"Always!"

"If you say so." And with that she left, slamming the door in her wake.

She lay back down on the bed and simply groaned when the baby started crying, not even bothering to look at her.

~~~~

Eight days later and Rachel had had enough. All Rebecca did was eat, sleep and shit. She couldn't understand why people chose to have babies - they were gross. Rachel wrapped Rebeca up and unlocked the front door, grabbing the piece of paper with her as she went. A few minutes later, she arrived at a house. It was tall and old-fashioned, much too old for her liking but it would suffice. She placed the baby on the doorstep, folded a note between her tiny hand and turned around and left without another look back.

Baby Rebeca cried. Her mother had already broken her promise after only eight days.

Although Beca had only been alive for just over a week, she had already been let down. And by her mother, of all people.