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Aoife: Joey!
Aoife: Four days, Joe. Four fucking days.
Aoife: The hospital called. I got that appointment.
Aoife: I need you to come home, Joey!
Aoife: It’s been five days.
Aoife: How could you do this to me?
Aoife: I have a hospital appointment on Monday. Do you plan on coming?
Aoife: Everyone is asking about you, and I’m covering for your ass, when I don’t even know if you’re ALIVE!!! Please, Joey. It’s been 6 days! Just call me. PLEASE!
Aoife: Seven days. Your hands better be broken, asshole, because there is no excuse for not contacting me.
Aoife: Please come back to me, Joe.
Aoife: Day eight and I’m going to the hospital. I have that appointment with the midwife. You’re supposed to be there too, you know.
Aoife: I’m scared.
Aoife: I still love you.
79
Do You Feel Safe?
AOIFE
Feeling extremely self-conscious, I stood on the physician scales in Examination Room 3B in the maternity hospital and watched as the midwife fiddled with the reading rod.
My heart was racing violently in my chest, and every ounce of blood I seemed to possess had decided to rush to my cheeks. I loathed being weighed. I loathed being here even more. But the worst part of the whole ordeal was that I had to do it alone.
Today was day eight of Joey being AWOL and I was at my breaking point.
“You’re a fine tall girl, aren’t you? Just under five foot nine,” the midwife mused, distracting me from my internal meltdown. “Is the baby’s father tall?”
“Um, yeah, he is,” I replied, stepping off the scales and toeing my pumps back on. “He’s about six one.”
“You’ll have a fine tall baby on your hands so.” She chuckled, scribbling in the red folder that I had been given at reception. “Now, you’ve had your urine sample taken and your blood work done, so why don’t we take a seat and go through some medical history.”
“Okay.”
“Is baby’s father joining us?”
“Uh, no, he’s, ah…” Voice trailing off, I slumped in the chair before adding, “He really wanted to be here, but he couldn’t get time off work.”
The lie slipped off my tongue to join a whole host of other lies I had told this past week to explain my boyfriend’s absence to the people in my life. Because telling the truth was out of the question.
The only one I had been able to confide in was Casey.
“No problem,” the midwife replied, taking the seat opposite me. “You can answer any of the questions you know about your partner’s family history, and if he has any concerns, he can have additional information added at any time.”
“Okay.” Clasping my hands on my lap, I nodded and forced a smile. “Ask away.”
“First day of your last menstrual cycle?”
