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‘I’m a mother,’ she protests. ‘When do I think about myself?’
The question reverberates through me as I go into the kitchen to put the kettle on for drinks. I’m a mother. Do those instincts always kick in naturally? Did they for Claire, even though she hadn’t given birth? Will they for Milly?
And what about me?
I’m a mother. Can I say that now, when I chose to end the life of my own child? When the baby coming home this morning has my genes but nothing else? But I’ve held her. I’ve breathed her in. She has dimples.
I feel confused and guilty, aching for Milly and what she’s going through, but also aching for myself. This feels far, far more complicated than it was ever supposed to be, than I ever thought it would, even in my darkest and most difficult moments during Milly’s pregnancy. It’s so real now, with a real baby I’ve cuddled and kissed, a baby who looks like me – and my boyfriend.
I feel like I need some distance from it all, but I know I won’t create it. I will stay as close to Alice as I can, even if it hurts. I feel as if I don’t even have a choice.
I’ve just brought a tray of teas and coffees into the sitting room when the front door opens and Matt stands there, one arm around Milly, the other holding a car seat.
‘Let me help.’ I put the tray down and spring forward, unsure whether I should help Milly or take the car seat. Matt decides for me, by handing me the car seat. I look down at Alice, snuggled in a fleecy pink snowsuit, fast asleep, her golden lashes sweeping her rosy cheeks. She is so tiny, and she is perfect.
‘Milly.’ Claire’s voice is full of emotion. They didn’t come to the hospital, because of the risk of infection for Claire, and so this is the first time she has seen her daughter or granddaughter since the birth. ‘I’m so glad to see you, darling.’
Claire goes to hug her, and Milly returns the embrace, clinging for a moment before she moves away.
‘Milly should get into bed,’ Matt says firmly. ‘It’s been very tiring, having all the checks and things this morning, and then leaving the hospital.’
‘Of course, of course.’ I put the car seat down carefully. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Milly? I can make chai—’
‘I’m fine.’ Her voice is barely audible.
Matt throws me an apologetic look before helping Milly up the stairs.
Claire, Simon, and I all look at each other a bit blankly. What now?
‘May I hold her?’ Claire whispers, once Milly has gone upstairs, and I glance at Alice.
‘Of course, I’m sure…’ I fumble with the complicated buckle of the car seat, before carefully lifting Alice out. She’s like a mini snowman, bundled in her fleece suit, and fast asleep, so she doesn’t even stir as I hand her to Claire.
Claire cradles her gently, her face suffused with love. ‘My granddaughter,’ she murmurs, and I am struck by how strange the situation is, on so many levels. Will Claire see the similarities to me? Will she guess? I shake my head a little, as if to clear it. I need to stop thinking like this. It’s not helpful at all, for anyone, and especially not me.
Matt comes down a short while later, looking exhausted. ‘She’s sleeping,’ he says, and then he takes Alice from Claire and presses a kiss to the top of her head, his eyes closed. My heart aches for him too.
‘Matt, how are you managing?’ Claire asks in a whisper. ‘This is all so unexpected…’
‘It’s not what we wanted, but we’ll get there.’ He sits down, Alice in his arms. ‘Milly just needs a little time.’
‘Are you sure that’s all it is? Don’t you think she should see a doctor?’
‘The health visitor is coming tomorrow. Milly h
as been through a lot. Give her a chance to recover. If it turns out she needs… something more, then we’ll do that. I’m committed to caring for my wife and my daughter.’ His voice sounds steely. ‘Trust me on that.’
‘Of course we trust you.’ Claire looks near tears. ‘And what about little Alice? She’s so tiny. Is it safe for her to come home this early?’
‘Yes, although we need to put her in sunlight as much as possible, and we’ll need to take her in for light therapy for jaundice a couple of times a week.’ He cradles her closer to his chest. ‘But, considering her weight, she’s doing well. We just need to get the feeding sorted.’
‘Will Milly…?’
‘She’ll get there.’ His tone has turned repressive, and we all lapse into silence.
‘How can I help, Matt?’ I finally ask. ‘Just tell me what to do.’
‘I don’t even know.’ He shrugs, looking defeated for a moment before he rallies again. ‘What you’re doing is amazing, Anna. The meals and the cleaning… everything… but if you could talk to Milly, that would be great. Just normal stuff. I don’t want everything to be about the baby.’
