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Rose Marion Tyler was eighteen years old and she was terrified. She looked at the little bundle in her arms, the babes cry's echoing in her ears as she pulled the cloak tighter around her. Her baby. She was a mother, she was terrified. She couldn't raise a child. She couldn't.
No matter how much the baby in her arms made her smile, she couldn't keep her. She couldn't keep her little one.
Couldn't bring herself to give the baby a name because giving her a name meant that Rose would be even more attached. And she /couldn't/. Because Lord knows that Jimmy wouldn't help her raise the baby, and then neither Mickey nor her mum knew. If they did they'd pressure her into keeping the babe when she knew that wasn't the best choice.
She kissed her on the forehead as silent tears made their way down Rose's face. Pulling herself together she walked towards the church, and gently set her baby down into the snow. Part of her wanted to reach out and cradle the babe close to her chest but she couldn't. So she made herself step back and leave. Made herself walk away knowing that this is something she might regret for the rest of her life but that doesn't matter as long as her baby is safe. And she knows that she will be, the church should take care of her.