Page 70 of Where the Wattles Bloom

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I wasn’t.’

Rowena may not have been a full-blown adult but she’d been old enough to indulge in very adult activities. Old enough to understand the possible consequences of having unprotected sex when she and her first serious boyfriend had been caught short a few times.

She’d just been greedy and reckless and suffering under the impression she was bulletproof.

‘You know,’ Helena said, removing her glasses, ‘I’ve known you for six months now and you’re probably one of the most empathetic, kindest people I’ve ever met. You gave me that gorgeous print of a rainbow bridge when my dog died. Whenever you come here, you buy a coffee downstairs at the café and take it across to the homeless guy that lives in the park. I watch you from my window. And you always ask my PA about her mother’s Alzheimer’s. Once you even brought her a book you’d just read on active brains.’

Helena leaned in on her elbows, her face almost filling the laptop screen now, her features earnest. ‘Why are you so unkind to that scared little girl?’

Rowena sucked in a breath. The enquiry had been soft and gentle but it sliced like a stiletto between her ribs. It took several long, deep breaths before she could choke out an answer. ‘I … don’t know.’

‘What would happen, do you think, if you were maybe a little bit kinder?’

‘I don’t know,’ she repeated.

They’d talked about forgiveness before, because she’d never forgiven her fifteen-year-old self. If anything, she’d been piling on the blame year after year.

But kindness?

‘Who knows,’ Helena murmured, ‘maybe it could be liberating?’

Rowena sniffled. ‘Yeah.’ Maybe it could be.

Satisfied she’d made some kind of headway, Helena nodded and said, ‘Good.’ She sat back in her chair. ‘Have your anxiety levels increased with this unexpected development?’

‘No.’ Rowena shook her head. ‘Not really. Not like before, anyway. It helps that I’m trying to not look too far ahead. To not hope. But I will. If it goes on for a while.’ Her voice wavered at the thought. ‘I know it.’

Helena paused for a moment to give Rowena a chance to compose herself. ‘You’re still taking your medication?’

‘Yes.’ It had proven tricky to keep down due to the morning sickness, but she’d mostly succeeded.

‘Some women get anxious about the effect of the medication on a pregnancy and stop.’

‘I haven’t stopped,’ Rowena said. Even though she was well versed in the safety of different drugs during pregnancy, she’d still google-fu’d the hell out of her medication. What she’d read had eased her concerns—luckily, because going off it didn’t feel like an option.

Not before going back to work on the NICU.

‘Good. I’d like to reassure you that there’s a plethora of data on serotonin reuptake inhibitors during pregnancy and they are considered safe.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Are you taking folic acid?’

Rowena nodded. ‘I’ve just started.’

It was a contradiction, for sure. If Rowena was so gosh-darned convinced the pregnancy was futile, why was she taking a prenatal vitamin supplement? But Helena didn’t mention that—instead she chatted about strategies for coping with the influx of hormones and, at the end, sent through some links for some reading she’d mentioned during the session.

But all Rowena could think about after was kindness. Something she valued highly both in herself and in others. Treating people with courtesy, respect and compassion. But … being kind to herself?

Could it really be that simple?

*

It took a little over a week after Rowena had moved into the homestead to stumble across a morning sickness remedy that actually worked. The Life Savers helped a little but weren’t a miracle cure. The same went for the combined wisdom of the women of Acacia Junction’s CWA. Their myriad suggestions had been lovingly cooked or prepared by Reggie but they all, sadly, ended up in the toilet.

In the end, it was tea that did the trick.

Yep, it was official—she was a tea drinker now. So was Lachlan, who had crossed to the other side with her when even the aroma of brewing coffee in the kitchen made her throw up. He took it milky and strong enough to stand a spoon in while hers was weak and black, but it, more than anything, settled her stomach, which was a godsend!