Chapter 34
34
JELLYBEAN
Becca
Niamh and I were eventually called through to a curtained-off bay where Jodie and Adam sat, eyes red-rimmed. My heart, which I’d thought could not possibly get any lower, sank even more. The ultrasound scanner was still there with them, the image on the screen frozen, a small, grainy jellybean-shaped blob at its centre. A jellybean that had changed everything already.
I heard Niamh gasp, was aware her hand was flying to her mouth, but I didn’t look directly at her. All I could do was look at the shape on the screen.
‘Oh, love,’ I say, as Niamh moves directly towards Jodie.
Adam looks up at me, the eyelashes I always said were wasted on a boy blinking back at me filled with tears. ‘That’s our baby, Mum,’ he says, and I notice he is gripping Jodie’s hand.
‘I know, love,’ I tell him. ‘And it will always be your baby. You will keep him or her in your hearts.’
‘No… no,’ Jodie says as Niamh stands up. ‘It’s our baby .’
I notice a hint of a smile on her face, and look back to Adam, who is smiling, and for a second I can’t make sense of it.
‘We heard the heartbeat,’ Adam says, and suddenly I finally understand what it means when an author writes ‘she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding’ as a rush of relief is accompanied by a shaky exhalation.
‘The baby’s okay?’ I ask, hardly able to believe what I’m hearing. I can’t quite allow myself to believe it.
‘Perfect,’ Jodie says, her voice thick with tears.
‘And the bleeding, what did they say about the bleeding?’ Niamh asks.
‘They think it’s just some spotting.’
At that the curtain is pulled back and an impossibly young female doctor walks in. ‘Okay, Jodie. I’ve arranged for you to come back in a week to the Early Pregnancy Unit just to keep an eye on baby and what he or she is up to. In the meantime, lots of rest. No heavy lifting. If the bleeding gets any heavier, or is accompanied with cramping, then do, of course, come back.’
‘Excuse me,’ Niamh says before introducing herself. ‘So what might have caused the bleeding?’
The doctor looks from Niamh to Jodie, presumably looking for some clue as to who this woman is asking questions.
‘Dr Harkin, this is my mum, Niamh. And Adam’s mum, Becca.’
Dr Harkin nods a quick hello. ‘The truth is we might never know. Up to one in four women can experience some form of bleeding in the first twelve weeks of pregnancy. For some of them it is the first sign that something is going wrong, but in this case it all looks as it should. There’s a lovely strong heartbeat in there, which is always a good sign. It doesn’t mean we’re out of the woods, but we’re a bit closer to the exit than we were. So, as I said, my recommendation is rest and relaxing as much as possible. Oh, and to try and manage your sickness a little better; I recommend staying hydrated and eating little and often as opposed to sitting down to big meals.’
I’m listening. I swear I’m listening. But I also can’t keep my eyes from wandering back to the screen and the jellybean.
‘Look,’ Dr Harkin says, ‘I’m not really supposed to do this but if the two grannies would like to hear the heartbeat – we can do another quick scan. Entirely up to you, Jodie, of course.’
‘That would be great,’ Jodie says as she lifts up her top ready to smear on the cold transducing jelly.
Niamh and I catch each other’s gaze and we don’t need to speak. To be honest, I’m not sure I could if my life depended on it. My need, suddenly, to hear this heartbeat is overwhelming.
I startle a little as I feel a hand reaching out for mine. It’s not Adam, however. It’s my friend. My soul sister. My fellow granny-in-waiting. The only other woman in this world who will understand how much this moment, in this space, with these two other people, could ever mean.
Dr Harkin presses down on Jodie’s stomach and starts to move the probe around. My eyes go back, once again, to the screen, which is no longer static. There is movement. And there I see it, that little jellybean again. Dr Harkin taps something on the keyboard in front of the monitor and we zoom in just slightly. It’s not the clearest of pictures but I think I can make out the little buds of arms and legs and, yes, I see that super tiny flickering dot.
‘And that,’ Dr Harkin says, ‘is baby’s heartbeat. Let me put the volume on.’
She taps another button and a soft but remarkably fast ‘whomp whomp’ sound fills the cubicle. ‘Baby’s heart is currently beating at around one hundred and sixty beats per minute, which is exactly where we want it to be.’
I think she keeps talking. I’m vaguely aware of the drone of her voice, but I can’t hear anything except for the rhythm of that heartbeat, and I can’t feel anything but the tight squeeze of my friend’s hand.
There he or she is. This tiny little thing that will be such a big part of our lives. This tiny little thing who I have worried about already. The cause of my concerns that Adam and Jodie are tying themselves down. The reason I’ve woken up in the night after a dream I am left holding the baby while trying to meet my deadlines and walk Daniel and care for my mother. There he or she is, and those concerns, while not silly, don’t seem to matter as much in this moment. We’ll make it work. We’ll cope and manage because we always do. And because this little jellybean has just stolen my heart.