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Paul comes closer and puts his hand over mine. “I wish we could have planned this but I’m happy if you are.”
I nod slowly. “I honestly didn’t know if it would be possible because my periods aren’t great. I didn’t know but I’m happy. I’m so happy.”
I throw my arms around him and he hugs me tight. “We’ll have to get married. I won’t have a baby born out of wedlock. That’s just how it is with me, sorry.”
“If you like.”
A little baby? Something for me? And for Paul?
I pull away from Paul and push my nose to his. “I want this so much, Paul. I love you and I’ll love our baby more than you can imagine.”
“I love you, girl. I love you.” He holds me in his arms as he kisses me, then sweeps me up into him, carrying me to bed to celebrate this new life we’ve created.
***
A couple of weeks later, I get a text from Paul saying:Marriage license application submitted. X
The news excites me so much, I almost forget about the indigestion I’ve had all day. Working at my desk in the busy call room of West Yorkshire Police, I stare at the cucumber sandwich I made this morning and it looks no more appetising now than it did when I made it. I just took it out of the office fridge and it still looks disgusting. I can’t keep anything down at the moment and even simple things like a cucumber sandwich are not working, even when they always used to work in the past.
I stuff another ginger biscuit in my mouth and slurp some more tea – the only two things I can handle right now. Oh, and polo mints. I’m obsessed with polos.
A call comes in about a woman screaming inside her house and my phone flashes brightly as my supervisor loops me in. I pick up the receiver and listen as the woman’s neighbour tells us she has knocked on the door and got no answer and the woman keeps screaming. She doesn’t know what to do. The woman doesn’t have any history of mental illness or anti-social behaviour – I see on the screen in front of me as my supervisor searches the database for her info. There’s been no signs of a struggle or a burglary or anything like that. In the end, my boss decides the police should go straight away and if necessary, someone will be along to sedate the lady in question. It could just be that her cat died, or she could have woken up with paranoid delusions and is self-harming… who knows.
I feel a stabbing pain hit me deep in my stomach and breathe through it. Bloody hell, this indigestion is awful, and we’re meant to put up with this for how long?
I suffer it for a few minutes before deciding to take a walk to the bathroom.
When I get to the stall and sit down to pee, hoping that if I also try to do a poo that might help, I’m shocked to see a pool of blood sitting in my knickers.
“Oh, no.”
I arrive home late, having paid a visit to the hospital after I told my supervisor what I thought was happening. She was incredibly understanding and told me to take a few days if I need them.
Paul’s home already, at work at the dining table. He looks up with a bright smile and welcomes me, “Hey, you. How’s your day been?”
He quickly discovers I’m not okay when I don’t reply and I don’t smile or show him affection. I shut the door behind me, rest back against it, then slowly sink down the hard surface until falling to the floor, my head falling to my knees, sobbing my heart out.
It all falls out of me. I cry, I wail, I despair.
The physical pain is bad… the rest unbearable.
I have sudden empathy for all those people who suddenly find their worlds ripped out from underneath them – their sanity, their heart, their soul… all gone. All it takes is for one thing you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember to be taken from you, so cruelly, and nothing will ever seem the same again.
I’m carrying my work trousers in a bag which he takes from me and suddenly inside he sees the blood. At the hospital they gave me some leggings and maternity knickers… they must have seen all this before.
He wraps his arms around the whole of me and I wail into the vacuum of my pain, which he can’t share, nor can he ever know what it’s like to be me. I’m angry and I’m demolished. It feels like I waited so long for everything to come into alignment and now, this… ripped from me.
I must settle eventually because I hear him say, “Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe this wasn’t our baby. Mother nature knows best and all. I know nothing’s going to bring the baby back, but maybe it’s another thing that’s happened for a reason.”
I shake myself out of his arms and storm into the bathroom to wash off the stain of our love.
Because a stain it is.
It’s very late at night when I emerge from the bathroom. After showering I sat on the toilet and waited for the rest to leave me. My body shook and I almost vomited. The pain inside me was unbearable. A huge blob sank into the water and I knew that was it, all gone.
I’m wrapped in a towel as I leave the room, a wad of paper stuffed between my legs. I don’t see him. I don’t even want him but I still look for him, finding nobody in the house with me.
I clean myself up, stuff my knickers with sanitary pads and pull on my ugliest, thickest pyjamas. We hadn’t told anyone yet that I was pregnant and in fact, we were going to get married in secret. We’ve been living these past few weeks like hermits, blocking out the world, not letting anyone else in. Now I’m in a time of crisis, he’s nowhere to be found.
