Chapter 9
ORLA
‘Och, I don’t know, Mam, I think perhaps this is all just taking a minute for me to get used to.
But he’s right. Maybe taking a pause on the pregnancy thing is right for us.
It was almost like we kind of lost ourselves in it.
’ Orla punctuated the sentence with a loud, prolonged sniff and wiped away the tears that were silently falling down her cheeks.
Was it really only a week since the conversation that had changed everything?
That day, sitting on the bed, she’d turned over the pregnancy test, and her heart had stopped as she’d searched for the result. There it was. Loud and clear in capital letters – NOT PREGNANT.
Beside her, Kyle had let out a long, slow sigh, then put his arm around her and pulled her into him.
‘I’m sorry, babe,’ he’d whispered, and Orla heard the catch in his voice.
This was so hard for him too, because he’d wanted this just as much as she had.
Maybe that was why it had stung so badly and why he’d responded in the way that he had.
After a few moments, nestled into his chest, inhaling the scent of his deodorant, Orla had fought to keep the devastation from her voice.
‘It’ll happen. I know it will. The doctor said we should come and see him at the two-year mark, and he would refer us to a fertility specialist, so we can do that now. ’
There was a pause, and she’d thought he was mulling that over until he’d said softly, ‘Or maybe we can take a break from this for a while and just focus on having a bit of fun again.’
Orla had pulled back, sat up so that they were face to face. ‘I don’t understand. Don’t you want to keep trying? I thought that was what we both wanted.’
‘It is. But I just think…’
She’d seen that he was struggling to find the words, as he stopped, thought about it, then went on.
‘Babe, since the day we got married, we’ve been so focused on getting pregnant, and sometimes it feels like it’s more important to you than anything else.
I just want to be us again. Take the pressure off.
I’ve got enough of that at work without coming home and having it here too. ’
Orla had felt a wave of guilt flood over her head and crash right into her heart. ‘I didn’t realise that it had become a problem for you. You should have said…’
It had been impossible to keep the edge of resentment that she’d felt out of her voice, but if he’d noticed, he hadn’t reacted to it. Instead, he’d gone on, ‘I want to have sex when we feel like it – not just on the days when we have to.’
Okay, so he had a point. Sex outside the ovulation zone of her cycle had definitely dwindled, and she could have argued that was down to the long hours he was working too, but she hadn’t.
She’d still been way too devastated at the words on the stick to steer that conversation anywhere close to a full-blown argument.
That had never been their style, anyway.
They barely fought and always managed to talk things through before they escalated to any kind of conflict.
So instead of arguing, she’d done the only thing that she’d felt would make them both feel better.
At least for a while. She’d kissed him and then soothed the ache inside her by proving him wrong, by showing him that they could still have the kind of passion that had got a little lost over the previous few months.
Since that day, none of her sorrow had been processed, and she hadn’t wanted to talk to him about it. Instead, she’d just kept it all inside, until now, and it was all pouring out on the phone to her mum while she was sitting in the car park of Glasgow Central Hospital before her shift.
‘Och, love, I’m so sorry. I wish I was there to give you a hug,’ her mum sighed.
Despite her tears, that made Orla smile.
‘Pathetic as it is for a twenty-eight-year-old woman to say, I wish that too, Mam.’ As she said that, two things happened.
She realised that the state of her was just going to give her mum something to worry about and that was the last thing she wanted, and she also caught her reflection in the rear-view mirror.
‘Jeez, I need to get a grip. I can’t be going into the ward with mascara down my face.
I’m supposed to be a ray of sunshine and positivity for my patients.
’ The jokey delivery broke the gloom and she heard her mum laugh.
Okay, normal service resumed. ‘Sorry, Mam, I promise I’m fine.
You just caught me at a bad moment. Honestly, I’m good.
Anyway, it’s the first of June, the start of summer, so I’m going to pull it together and enjoy the next few months without stressing. ’
‘I think that’s the right thing to do, sweetheart. And you never know…’
‘Stop. I can already tell what you’re going to say.’ This had been one of Kyle’s points too. ‘You’re going to say that if we stop trying and just relax, maybe nature will kick in and I’ll be preggers before the summer is out.’
The sentiment was appreciated, even though Orla knew that was a cliché and a highly unlikely scenario.
Even more so because Kyle was working such long hours these days, he was too knackered to do much more than climb into bed at night and shove on another episode of whatever crime show was running on Netflix.
‘Anyway, Mam, I’d better go. Thanks for listening to me. You stay safe out there in…’
‘Just crossing the border into Kosovo. We’re in a three-truck convoy.’
Orla’s mascara tracks bent as she broke into a smile. ‘Of course you are. You know, Mam, some day I’m going to ask where you are and you’re going to say I’m just off to the cinema. Or nipping down to the bingo.’
The cackle at the other end of the line made her grin even wider.
Her mum was due to return to Ireland next month for a two-week break, and Orla was hoping she’d fly straight over to Scotland to see her.
Orla was counting the days. ‘If that ever happens, you’ve got the wrong number, sweetheart. Hang up and dial again.’
They said their goodbyes, and as she made her way up to the Elderly Ward, Orla tried to psych herself up to slap on a smile and act carefree and chipper for the next ten hours.
As she opened the staffroom door, she gave herself a mental pep talk. She could pull it off. She definitely could.
At least, until Yvie greeted her with, ‘Oh, doll, what’s happened? Are you okay?’
Pulling it off was going to have to wait, because apparently she was crying again.
Over at the table, Yvie jumped up and dashed towards her, put her arm around her shoulders and walked her back to a chair. ‘Sit down…’ Yvie reached for a roll of blue paper that was on the worktop next to the kettle and tore a strip off. ‘Here you go.’
‘Thanks.’ Orla sniffed, mortified. Crying wasn’t her thing, especially not in public and definitely not at work. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me, honestly. I’m never like this.’
Yvie flicked the kettle on, then sat down next to her. ‘I know, lovely. Has something happened?’
Orla shook her head. ‘That’s the thing – nothing’s happened.
I have no idea what’s going on. I mean, obviously there was the whole conversation with Kyle after the test last weekend…
’ She’d filled them in on that the following morning, but even then, she’d been calm and pragmatic, focused on the positives and delivered the update without tears and snot.
‘I’m fine. I really am. My emotions are just having a moment.
They’ve been all over the place this week. I think it’s just crazy PMT.’
‘Mmmm.’ Yvie sat back in her chair, lips pursed. ‘PMT? But weren’t they supposed to start last week?’
‘Yes, but they’ve been pretty irregular for the last few months, I think it’s just the stress of everything.’
Yvie was back on her feet now, making two mugs of tea. ‘And have you done any more tests?’
Orla could tell Yvie was trying to sound nonchalant, but not quite succeeding because obviously her thoughts were going in a particular direction. It was a road Orla had gone down in her mind many times too.
‘Yep, I did three more this week. All negative. I didn’t tell Kyle, because he’s pretty set on putting the whole pregnancy thing on the back burner right now.
He doesn’t want to even discuss it anymore.
And I get that. It’s been such a focus for so long.
I need to just pull myself together, get back to just enjoying life and stop spending a small fortune on test kits. ’
Yvie brought the teas over to the table. ‘So when was the last time you tested?’
Orla thought about that. ‘Maybe three days ago. To be honest… Argh, please don’t judge me… But I was going to stop on my way home from work today and get another one.’
Yvie’s expression changed and she got up from her chair and popped her head out of the door. ‘Hi, can I borrow you for a second?’ she said.
Orla had no idea who she was speaking to, until Keli came in the door. There was only time for quick hello’s before Yvie got to the point. ‘Are you still friendly with Sharon over in the maternity wing?’
Keli nodded. ‘Of course. We were out a couple of weeks ago and, oh my Taylor Swift, she can dance. We ended up in…’ She stopped suddenly, reading the room.
‘Okay, I’m thinking that wasn’t the information you were after.
What do you need?’ Only now did she register Orla’s mascara tracks. ‘Oh, bugger, Orla, are you okay?’
‘Just having a hormonal blip, I think. PMT.’ She still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on here, but Yvie soon laid it out.
‘But just in case it isn’t PMT,’ Yvie said to Keli, ‘any chance you could nip down to maternity and wangle a pregnancy test?’
Keli’s eyes widened. ‘Oh shit. I mean, great! Or is it? I mean… Yes! Give me five minutes.’ With that, she shot back out the door.
Yvie was still in organisation mode. ‘I’ll be back in a sec. I just want to go ask Emmy to stay on shift a little longer to cover for us.’
Orla could only nod gratefully. What would she do without these brilliant women? Nothing fazed them. Nothing freaked them out. And they didn’t judge. She knew just how lucky she was to have met them.
The next few minutes were spent with a packet of wet wipes, fixing her face, and then reapplying some basic make-up. She pulled her long red hair up into a bun, secured it with a band and then stared in the mirror for a second, giving herself some silent straight talking.
This is it. This is the last test. The hoping has got to stop. It’s done for now. Subject closed. Time to move on. Be young and fun again. Love your husband. Enjoy life.
Ten minutes later, the door burst open and a slightly breathless Keli came in with Yvie right behind her. Keli handed over a familiar cellophane-wrapped box.
‘Sharon wasn’t on duty, so I ran down to the chemist in the foyer and got this.’
The hospital was like a small village, and the ground floor had a deli, a coffee shop, an M&S, a bakery and chemist that obviously sold pregnancy tests.
Yvie was still guiding Orla through this. ‘Okay, your choice. I’ll cover your shift for the next hour if you want to go home and do it.’
Orla knew that wasn’t an option. ‘I don’t want to put you out, or to traipse home again now, but I also don’t want to spend the next ten hours wondering. There’s a risk I’ll burst into tears if Mrs Jenkins starts singing ‘Danny Boy’ again. Would you be freaked out if I do it here?’
Keli and Yvie shared a glance, before Keli nodded to the door that led to the small staff toilet. ‘If I had a pound for all the times I’ve done a pregnancy test in that bathroom, I’d be able to unlock two shopping trolleys at ASDA.’ Which Orla took to mean she wouldn’t be the first.
Yvie was clearly trying to make it easier for her. ‘Right, I’ll run a tap out here, and Keli, you hum a tune – nothing worse than people listening to you pee.’
Despite the absolutely mind-bending stress of it all, that made Orla laugh as she nipped through the door.
Never, in all the many times that she’d been through this or pictured it, had she ever imagined that she would one day do a pregnancy test in a staffroom toilet, to the sound of Beyonce’s ‘Crazy In Love’ being sung slightly off pitch in the room next door.
The tune only ended after she’d washed her hands and exited, clutching a small white stick.
‘Okay, so I think we’ve probably violated several HR policies already so this stays between us,’ Yvie said, as they all took seats round the small white Formica dining table.
With perfect timing, Emmy chose that exact moment to enter.
‘Okay, what have I missed?’ Her stare went to the overturned stick on the table. ‘Ah, we haven’t got to the important bit yet.’
Just at that, the alarm on Orla’s phone went off and they all jumped.
Orla reached for the test with a trembling hand. It would be negative. Of course it would… There was no way. She’d done so many already. And the fates that usually took such good care of her, clearly weren’t paying attention to her needs at the moment.
Keep breathing or you’ll faint. And no more bloody crying.
The atmosphere in the room crackled with tension as she flipped it over and they all stared at it for a second, time standing still, until Orla broke the silence with a gasp.
Yvie was the first to speak, though. ‘Well, I guess that means we can rule out PMT.’