Chapter 13 #2
‘Thank you. I needed to hear some of what you said this morning.’
He kissed her again and went upstairs. Zoe could hear more muffled conversation through the ceiling.
She wondered what they were saying and whether it was as reasonable and measured as the chat she and Alex had just had.
She hoped so because she hated the thought of making things awkward for him.
She loved Billie and Louisa, but at the end of the day, she was only here because of Alex.
An hour later, Zoe was preparing for her morning clinic when Simon put his head around her office door.
‘How are you doing?’
‘I’m good,’ she said as brightly as she could. It was only nine thirty and yet it already felt like a long day.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Glad to hear it. Have you given any more thought to my text? Only this consultant gets very busy, and we’d need to move fast if you wanted to see her.’
‘I appreciate it, Simon, but I don’t think I will see her. You’re not offended, are you? I mean, I really am grateful for the offer but… well, I don’t see what she can offer. Unless she can reverse it, and you and I know that would be a miracle.’
‘Reverse it, no, but she might be able to tell you that it’s not yet a done deal. And we talked about you future-proofing your… well…’ He glanced up and down the corridor behind him before stepping into the room and closing the door. ‘Making provisions for your eggs.’
‘Which would be grand if I had any left.’
‘That’s what she’d be able to tell you,’ Simon replied in the manner of a schoolteacher forced to remind an unruly pupil that they know a lot less than they think.
‘I’m sorry.’ Zoe shook her head. ‘I’m not one for pessimism usually, and I know I shouldn’t be assuming anything until I’ve had more investigations.
It all feels so hopeless at the moment. It makes me wonder if this diagnosis has anything to do with my miscarriage.
Maybe I’m just not meant to have children, and maybe I have to accept that. ’
‘You might get the answers a lot faster if you go to see my friend in London. But even if you don’t want to take up the offer, I would strongly suggest – as your friend as well as a GP – that you do see a consultant, even if it’s at the local hospital. I don’t think it helps to live in denial.’
Zoe gave a faint smile. ‘I’m not denying it – that’s the problem.
I’m accepting my fate quite readily. I’m tired of wanting what I can’t have, coming so close and then losing it.
I don’t think I can do it anymore. Part of me is ready to throw the towel in, get used to the idea of being childless for the rest of my life and move on. Is that so bad?’
‘If that’s how you feel, then no.’
‘I can’t tell you if that’s how I feel; my mind keeps changing. It’s what I want today – that’s all I can say.’
Simon gave a brisk nod. ‘Also, I managed to squeeze Louisa in. I’ve just seen her.’
‘Already?’
‘I had a free slot, and Billie brought her straight down. She’s fine, as far as I can tell. Obviously, keep an eye on things and come back to me if she worsens, but I think it’s only a viral thing, and it should pass over the next couple of days.’
‘Was Billie OK when you told her this?’
‘Yes…’ he said with a faint smile of his own. ‘I take it she wasn’t quite so ready to accept similar advice when it was offered by you?’
‘Right on the nose.’
‘Sorry about that. I can only say it’s one of the perks of being a GP that people are more ready to believe our assessment. But even then, we don’t always get it right.’
‘Thanks for seeing her so quickly.’
‘It’s no problem – you only have to ask and I’ll always do my best to fit her in.’
Simon left the office, and Zoe was once again accompanied only by humming silence and a computer screen filled with appointments to work through.
As she made a note of the stage of each woman’s pregnancy, her mind kept wandering back to Simon’s words.
She didn’t know what to think. She’d done enough research over the past few days – too much, if her currently muddied opinions were anything to go by.
She’d read about the conditions she might possibly have, one of the most likely being premature ovarian insufficiency, and while having POI was more hopeful than a straightforward premature menopause, it left her with the very real possibility that she would remain childless for the rest of her life.
She was tempted to resign herself to that because having hope, only for it to be dashed, was too painful.
If there was no hope, then there would never be any disappointment.
And when she eventually told Alex, if she gave him hope only to see it destroyed with excruciating slowness as they tried for a baby and the years rolled by without one, it would be even more painful.
Her disappointment was one thing, but to know she was the cause of his was something else entirely.
She’d read about donor eggs, but what Alex wanted was their child.
She couldn’t see how he’d be happy with that.
Wasn’t it better, therefore, not to give him hope, to get him used to the idea just like she was doing with herself?
Or to give him the choice to end things if he couldn’t cope with the prospect of them having no children, rather than stringing him along with slim hopes that might fade into bitter disappointment one day?
She went to the window and threw it open, stifled by the heat in the office and the pressing weight of her dilemma.
Once again, she knew she ought to talk things through with someone.
Alex, first and foremost, but it would be easier to sound someone else out first, someone less directly affected.
Ottilie was her choice, but Ottilie was wrangling with a poorly Flo, and when Zoe had texted her that morning to see how things were, Heath had gone down with the bug too.
Ottilie had far too many other things to worry about.
Perhaps Georgia would have to do, Zoe mused, and then felt uncharitable for thinking of her that way.
Georgia wouldn’t be calm and steady like Ottilie, but she would listen, and perhaps that was enough.
She’d understand, and when it came to it, she’d known Zoe longer than Ottilie had.
They’d been friends since childhood, after all, and that had to count for something.
She paused, drawing in huge breaths as she tried to slow her heartbeat and collect her thoughts, the air beyond the window so sweet and fresh that it didn’t take long to clear her head.
When she was done, she checked the clock and, noting that she didn’t have time to do anything personal right now, put the matter to the back of her mind as best she could and got ready to go out on her home visits.
Bridget opened the door wearing the same sour look Zoe was used to seeing on her face. It had led her to wonder, with increasing frequency, whether Bridget looked like that on greeting everyone or whether it was a special treat reserved for Zoe alone.
‘He’s asleep,’ she said. ‘Trust you to come now.’
‘Sorry.’ Zoe stepped in as Bridget moved aside and then closed the front door again. ‘I seem to have a knack of turning up when they’re asleep. It does tend to make me unpopular. I’d come back, but I’ve got other appointments today and it would be difficult to—’
‘Nobody asked you to come back. I’m letting you in, aren’t I?
I only said you’ll have to wake him up, and Maisie hasn’t had much sleep overnight with him demanding milk every two minutes.
I’ve told her to switch to bottles, like I said in the beginning, but she’s taken your word as gospel, and she won’t listen to me now.
So it’s top up and boobs out all over the house every time he wants feeding, and her poor dad has to make himself scarce…
Honestly, he’s seen the inside of that shed more times this week than he’s had hot dinners… ’
Bridget fired off more complaints as they walked the length of the hallway, and by the time they reached the living room to find Maisie scrolling on her phone, with baby Ezra asleep in a Moses basket that looked at least four generations old, with the faded frilled fabric bumpers to prove it, she hadn’t stopped to draw breath.
‘Hi, Maisie.’
Maisie looked up with a tired smile. ‘Zoe! I forgot you were coming!’
‘Oh… it’s not a bad time, is it? Your mum was telling me you only just managed to get Ezra to sleep and you’ve been up a lot, so I could always make another appointment for you.’
‘That’s all right. Are you weighing him today? Or have you got to give him more jabs?’
‘No more jabs for a while; it’s only checks today. If we’re very clever and he’s very tired, we might be able to get him onto the scales without waking him up.’
Bridget let out an audible hiss of cynicism while Maisie simply looked blank. ‘Haven’t we got to weigh him without his clothes?’ she asked.
‘We have. I know it sounds unlikely, but if we managed it, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve got a baby undressed and onto the scales without waking them up. There’s nothing to lose having a go either way, is there?’
Maisie put down her phone. Zoe could sense Bridget hovering by the door as she went to scoop Ezra out of his basket and laid him gently onto a changing mat.
‘Shall I take off his romper now?’ Maisie whispered.
Zoe got out her scales, nodding. ‘If you could.’
‘I suppose you’d like the heating turning up,’ Bridget said from the doorway.
‘Not particularly,’ Zoe replied. ‘Hopefully he won’t be without his clothes for long, and it’s not too bad in here as it is.’
While Maisie did her best to get Ezra undressed without waking him, Zoe set up the scales.
Every so often, she glanced across, pleased to see how gentle Maisie was and how confident she was becoming handling her little boy already.
He stirred once or twice, even opened his eyes a crack, but then settled as she hushed him with a soft hand to his chest.