Chapter 9
It took a lot to throw Zoe when it came to her professional life. At this point, she’d pretty much seen everything, but even she was shocked at how frail and ashen her first home visit of the day looked when she answered the front door.
‘Hello, Sam. You don’t mind me dropping in, do you?’
Sam shuffled backwards to let Zoe in. ‘I’m glad you came. Will you check to make sure everything’s OK? I’m scared to death all this throwing up is doing bad things to the baby.’
‘I’m sure you are. I’ll have a good look, and we can chat about your worries. You’re going through a lot – morning sickness is no joke for any woman, but HG is something else. I don’t envy anyone going through it.’
‘HG?’
‘Or to be unnecessarily technical about it, hyperemesis gravidarum.’
‘No wonder you call it HG. I’d say I know what to call it now, but I won’t remember it in five minutes.’
‘There’s no need. I’m sure people get the picture when you tell them you can’t stop being sick.’
Zoe followed Sam into the living room. She’d been in here once before a few weeks back, and she had to admit that the evidence of Sam’s current struggles was everywhere.
Back then it had been so neat it was close to meticulous, with wide-open curtains and fresh air.
Today, the room was in semi gloom, with closed curtains, a scrunched-up blanket on the sofa, numerous water bottles and blister packs for medication of all kinds, and an ominous-looking bowl on the floor. ‘You’re still off work?’
‘Yes. I think they’d rather me be off than looking like this – it’d put the customers off their beer. They’ve been brilliant about it, actually. It’s at times like this I’m glad I work at the local pub and not for some giant company where you’re just a number.’
‘There’s definitely something to be said for the personal touch. How are you feeling in yourself? Apart from the obvious?’
‘Like crap, and I can’t tell any more if that’s the sickness or if I really am dying.’
Zoe gave her sympathetic grimace. ‘It’s rough, I know. The only consolation I can offer is that it’s not going to be forever.’
‘No, only another seven months to go. Then again, I suppose it could be worse. I could have another kid to look after feeling like this. As it is, there’s only me and Stu, and he’s quickly learned not to ask where his tea is… nothing stings quite like a cup hurled at the head.’
Zoe had met Stu at her last visit, and she assumed Sam was joking because he hadn’t given off caveman vibes. And so she allowed herself a little laugh. ‘I’m sure he has.’ She cast around. ‘You have a dog, don’t you?’
‘He’s at the in-laws’ for a while. It was too much for me to have him here, not while I’m feeling so ill, and Stu can’t be home all the time.’
‘That sounds sensible.’
‘We might even leave him with them when the baby arrives. He’s happy there, they’re fond of him and he’s been like a baby to us over the years, so much so I worry he might not take to an actual baby replacing him as…’ Sam shrugged. ‘Well, as top dog.’
Zoe was glad to see she still had her sense of humour. It was a small thing, and yet it told her so much about Sam’s current mood and resilience. ‘I see what you did there. That all sounds sensible too, and you’ll be able to see him when you go to visit.’
‘Yeah, that’s what we thought. They’ve got more time on their hands, and though it’ll be hard to see him go, it’s better for him in the end. He’ll get used to it. Take a seat…’ Sam rushed to clear one of the chairs, and Zoe sat down and opened her bag.
‘How are all the holistic bits and bobs working for you? You haven’t started taking anti-emetics, have you?’
‘I’d rather not if I can help it, though I’ve been tempted.’
‘What are you using?’
‘Easier to ask what I’m not using. Stu went to the health food shop – don’t worry, he asked at the hospital what was safe to use.
He brought back just about everything they had.
I’ve got this…’ She held up her wrist so Zoe could see she was wearing an acupressure band.
‘And I eat so many ginger biscuits I’m worried I’ll turn orange.
Stu keeps saying I’ll look like I’ve been tangoed. ’
‘I think Stu might be skating on thin ice,’ Zoe said with a wry smile as she made some notes.
‘That’s what I said. I suppose it’s his way of trying to help – making jokes. He doesn’t know what else he can do. It can’t be much fun for him, all this.’
‘I’m sure you’d swap places if you could.’
‘God no! He’d be a total nightmare! He only has to come over queasy after a night on the ale and he’s making his last will and testament!
At least I can function… sort of. It helped to be in the hospital, actually.
I would never have said that at the beginning, but I felt a lot better when I came out. ’
‘You probably needed some intensive treatment. Are you keeping track of your weight, or would you like me to weigh you now?’
‘The hospital said I ought to.’ Sam went to a drawer and took out a notepad. She handed it to Zoe.
‘Ah…’ Zoe flicked through the pages. ‘I see you’ve been keeping a food diary too.’
‘I think I might have become a bit obsessive. Don’t judge me.’
‘I’m not – it’s actually useful. Even the bit where you’ve noted how many times you’ve been sick in a day. See…’ Zoe showed her the page. ‘It’s going down a little, isn’t it?’
‘I thought so. Honestly, it couldn’t have got much worse. Before I went into hospital, I couldn’t even keep water down. I joke about it, but I was terrified I was going to die or at the very least lose the baby. I’ve never been so ill.’
‘You can call me, you know. Night or day, if you’re worried or afraid, I’m at the other end of a phone line to talk to.’
‘You might regret telling me that.’
‘It’s my job. And if for some reason I don’t pick up, leave me a message and I’ll get to you as soon as I can. Having said that, you did right going straight to the hospital when it got too much. You can’t be too careful.’
‘I normally hate those places, but that was one time when I couldn’t get on that ward quick enough.’
‘You’re bound to feel that way. I’m going to ask that you go under a consultant. I think you’re going to need extra input.’
‘They already said that to me at the hospital.’
‘In that case, I’ll ping them a message to see whether the ball is rolling. If not, I’ll sort it. What about antenatal classes? Have you signed up yet?’
‘Not yet. I’m not really up to going out much right now, but when I feel better, I’ll try to get to some.’
‘They’ll definitely be useful. If nothing else, there’s solidarity in talking to other expectant mums about their experiences.’
Sam nodded, and then shot off her chair and raced for the door. Zoe had to assume she was feeling sick again. She sent a sympathetic grimace at her retreating figure. She always did her best for her mums, but for some things, like this, they were on their own.
Zoe was on her way to the kitchen back at the surgery when Simon stopped her in the corridor. ‘Have you got five minutes? Your bloods are back, and I thought you might want to know what the results say.’
‘Already?’
‘I asked for them to be expedited.’
‘I know, but even so, that’s fast!’ Zoe searched his face for clues as to what she ought to expect. Simon’s expression was calm, as it often was, and giving nothing away. ‘Of course. Did you want to go over it now?’
‘It’s up to you, but I’m free at the moment if you are.’
‘Yes…’
Zoe followed him to his room. When they were both inside, he invited her to sit and then quietly closed the door.
‘OK…’ Zoe gave a nervous laugh. She hated not being able to read him, but it was obvious now that she was here that her bloods weren’t normal. If they had been, he’d have said so without preamble, wouldn’t he? If it was to be bad news, she just wanted it over with.
‘I’m afraid your hunch might be right,’ he said finally, turning his screen to show her the numbers listed there. ‘That’s your FSH.’
Zoe looked and her heart sank. Even without the explanation that followed, she could see a problem.
‘It would seem to indicate,’ he continued, unfazed by the look he must have caught on her face, ‘that you’re in perimenopause at the very least. We’d have to dig a little more to confirm premature ovarian insufficiency, but there are definite changes going on.’
Zoe stared at the screen. ‘Oh…’
‘It’s a lot to take in?’ Simon asked.
Zoe simply shook her head, unable to take her eyes from that one figure, the one that would change everything. How silly it was, a little number on a screen, and yet it was huge.
‘There can’t be…?’ Zoe swallowed and managed to drag her gaze away long enough to see Simon’s look of intense sympathy. ‘There can’t be another reason for those levels, can there? I mean, I’m thirty-seven… I know it’s not young, but I’m supposed to have loads of time…’
She already knew the answer, but blind, stubborn hope forced her to ask the question anyway.
Simon’s expression grew graver still and so earnestly full of pity that Zoe didn’t know whether she wanted to ask him for a hug or punch him in the face.
‘It’s fairly conclusive. We can certainly do more investigations and, of course, we can talk through your options. Would you like me to schedule a longer appointment?’
‘I’m not sure…’ Zoe’s gaze went back to the screen. ‘I mean, we’re colleagues… is that appropriate? I know you’ve done these bloods, but…’
‘We’re also friends, and if I can help in any way, then you only have to ask.’
Zoe nodded. On another day, she’d have been able to confirm his logic.
But today she didn’t care. She didn’t know what she felt; she only knew the future she’d hoped for, the one she’d been trying to build from the rubble of her losses, was about to collapse.
Despite her miscarriage, despite her split from Ritchie, she’d always assumed, deep down, that she’d be a mother one day.
But now…? What about now? Was it already too late?
‘I can get the ball rolling straight away on further investigations… if that’s what you want.’
‘Right… yes, I’ll do that.’
Simon peered closely at her. ‘I realise this is a lot to take in.’
‘I was half-expecting it, but…’
‘Do you need some time? Perhaps take this afternoon off to process—’
‘I have house calls this afternoon.’
‘I’m sure they can be rearranged.’
Zoe shook her head. ‘Not really.’
‘But in the circumstances, nobody would—’
‘I can’t rearrange them!’ Zoe flushed. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I’m fine, and I’d rather get back to work than mope at home. Besides…’
Home. Hilltop, where an oblivious Alex would be rushing around, celebrating the arrival of his first guests, preoccupied with his business and looking forward to a bright future.
That was the last place Zoe needed to be right now.
He’d ask why she was there, and how could she share this news with him on a day like today?
How could she ever share this news with him?
What would it mean for them? He’d hinted at children – would he even want to be with her, knowing there might not be any?
‘Alex has got his first campers arriving… I wouldn’t get much peace up there to do any kind of processing. I don’t need to process… That’s it’ – she flicked a hand at the screen – ‘all wrapped up. I have my answer, don’t I?’
‘I think you should talk to someone about this, even if it’s not me. I can arrange a counsellor if that’s helpful.’
Zoe shook her head firmly. ‘It’s not what I need. Don’t forget, I send people to counselling all the time – I know all the things they’d say to me, so what’s the point? I can counsel myself if I need it.’
‘Maybe…’
He hesitated, and Zoe almost felt sorry for him because he seemed to be struggling to know what to offer.
‘Maybe it might help you to talk to Stacey? Just to vent… I’m sure she’d be happy to listen. Or Ottilie, for that matter. I know you two are close.’
‘Thanks,’ Zoe said, forced to acknowledge he was doing his best and that none of this was his fault.
It wasn’t hers, for that matter, so why did she feel like such a failure?
And when it came down to it, how could either of those women, who were mothers, truly understand what she was about to go through?
With no awareness of her actions, she got up. ‘Thanks,’ she said again as she headed for the door.
‘Zoe…’
She turned back. If she’d been in a different headspace, she’d have seen how worried Simon looked.
‘I don’t think you should be doing home visits this afternoon. That’s my professional opinion. Understandably so, but you’re not in the right frame of mind.’
‘Who else will do them?’
‘I don’t know, but—’
‘Then I’ll have to do them. I’m fine. I can put it out of my head until I’ve finished for the day.’
‘If you’re sure…’
‘Yes.’
‘Speak to someone later. Promise me?’
‘If I need it, I will, I promise.’
‘That’s not the answer I was looking for. Speak to someone, whether you think you need it or not.’
Zoe gave a brief nod and then left the room.
Speak to someone, whether you think you need it or not… It was easier said than done.