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‘Can you lie down for me, Holly?’ the nurse says. ‘And pull your T-shirt up a little, please.’
I go through the motions. Flashbacks of the last scan we had parade across my mind like a slideshow I can’t switch off. I remember the bubbles of excitement that fizzed through my veins as we waited to see our baby for the first time. When they told us how serious the baby’s malformations were, my excited bubbles popped so suddenly I could have sworn I heard the bangs ringing in my ears. The memories of that day are all-consuming now, and as I feel Nate’s hand suddenly wrap around mine, I know he’s sharing my thoughts. I squeeze his hand back until my knuckles whiten and my hand shakes.
‘This will be a little cold, sorry,’ the nurse says as she squeezes some jelly onto my belly.
The nurse flicks on the old monitor, and it comes to life impressively quick. She runs the transducer over my tiny bump, and instantly, our baby appears on the screen. With her free hand, she twists the monitor towards Nate and me.
Even though I know the news won’t change. Even though I know our baby is still sick, my heart skips a giddy beat.
‘Do you want to know the sex?’ she asks excitedly.
‘You can tell already?’ I ask, wide-eyed.
‘Oh, I can definitely tell.’ She laughs. ‘This little one isn’t shy at all.’
I whip my head around to look over my shoulder at Nate. His eyes are dancing with excitement. He wants to know. At our last scan, I hadn’t thought about our baby as a boy or a girl. I just thought about it as sick. My heart sinks as I realise how unfair that was to my child.
Nate flashes a toothy grin and nods.
‘We’d love to know,’ I say for both of us.
‘It’s a boy,’ the nurse says without any hesitation.
‘A boy,’ Nate echoes, and his excited eyes glisten over.
A boy,I think silently. A little boy. I wonder what he will look like. I try to imagine Nate’s eyes coupled with my nose.
I’m drawn out of my daydream by the wand against my belly coming to a sudden stop. The nurse’s hand seems frozen suddenly, and I recognise this reaction. Her smile wipes, and her eyes narrow as she concentrates on the screen.
‘Nathan. Holly,’ she says softly as she pulls the wand away and offers me a large square of tissue paper to dry my tummy. ‘I’m going to see if one of the doctors is available to come have a look, okay?’
She turns off the monitor.
‘It’s okay,’ Nathan says. ‘This isn’t our first scan. We had a scan two weeks ago in Dublin.’
‘Oh.’ She swallows.
‘I’m sorry, we should have said something sooner,’ I say, fighting back tears. ‘It’s just it’s so hard…’
‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ the nurse says, oozing empathy.
‘They told us our baby has a genetic disorder. Edwards’ syndrome,’ I say, pulling myself upright as I struggle to wipe the stubborn gel off my skin. ‘They said his heart is affected, and he’s smaller than he should be. They told us there is nothing they can do.’
‘Did you have the test?’ she asks so softly I can barely hear her.
‘Yes,’ Nate replies. ‘The diagnosis is definite.’
‘Have you spoken with a counsellor?’ the nurse probes gently. ‘We have a resident counsellor here. He’s lovely. Or I can put you in touch with someone in Dublin, if that’s easier?’
I shake my head. ‘No. Thank you. I’d rather not talk about it.’
‘Talking helps, Holly,’ she continues. ‘I’m sure you must have lots of questions and concerns.’
‘I only had one question.Is there a cure?I got my answer. There is nothing else to discuss. Nothing any counsellor can say will save my baby. Nothing,’ I say.
‘Okay,’ the nurse whispers. ‘Some people aren’t talkers.’ She presses her lips firmly together, and I can tell she has more to say. I hold my breath and sit and wait for her to try to sway my decision to talk to someone just as the nurse in Dublin did. And the doctor. And Nate. Nate tried the hardest to get me to open up, but I just locked myself in our bathroom and cried.
‘If you change your mind—’ she continues.
