Chapter 8
EIGHT
Six months later
As I wait in the ultrasound department for my name to be called, my phone beeps with another text from Jack. Sorry. Not going to make it. Just found tyre on the other side has been slashed as well. Slow puncture passenger side. Kids probably. Will you be okay?
Fine, I text back. A bit nervous. See you when I get back.
I’m lying. My insides are churning with nerves.
I’m desperate to know my baby is all right.
Desperate, too, for Evie to be okay with the pregnancy, particularly with it being so soon into the relationship.
It’s a huge thing for both her and Jack to process after all they’ve been through.
It is for me. I can’t believe I’m actually pregnant.
I long for another baby, but I don’t feel I deserve to be given a second chance.
I’ve almost convinced myself there will be something wrong.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that when someone does call me, I jump.
The nurse standing a few feet away laughs. ‘I’m not that scary, am I?’ she asks.
‘No,’ I assure her, feeling flustered as I collect my bag and join her.
‘I’m Melanie,’ she says, leading the way to the scan room. ‘I’ll be doing your ultrasound scan today. Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands. I’ve been doing this a while,’ she assures me, opening the door and showing me in. ‘Is this your first baby?’ she asks.
I swallow back a hard lump of emotion. ‘No, my second,’ I answer.
‘You’ll know what to expect then, but just to remind you, the twelve-week scan is to check how old baby is and also his or her development.’ She gives me a smile. ‘Do you want to pop up on the couch and loosen your clothing? It should only take about twenty minutes or so.’
I nod and climb up. As I watch her prepare the equipment and check the monitor, I still an urge to run and hide away somewhere, as if by doing that I can somehow keep my baby safe from everything in the world that might harm him or her. I can’t keep my baby safe from me, though, can I?
‘You might recall this is a bit cold,’ she says, before squeezing the gel onto my stomach.
‘This is the transducer,’ she goes on, walking me through what she’s doing.
‘I’m just going to glide it gently over your tummy.
You might feel a bit of pressure here and there, but that’s just to enable me to get the best view of baby. It’s nothing to worry about.’
I pray silently as I watch her studying the monitor for what seems like ages.
‘Well, all the little limbs are present and correct,’ she assures me eventually. ‘And the heartbeat is really strong. Do you want to take a look?’
Relief crashes through me, and I nod vigorously. ‘Please,’ I murmur.
As she turns the monitor towards me and I see for myself the little flicker of white light that is the rhythmic beat of my baby’s heart, my throat constricts.
‘Would you like to know what gender your baby is?’ she asks.
I look at her in surprise. ‘Isn’t it too early?’
‘We can differentiate foetal sex as early as twelve weeks, but it’s only ninety-five per cent accurate and depends on baby lying in the optimum position so that the full length of the spine is visible.
Your little one seems to be obliging,’ she says glancing back to the monitor.
‘It’s called the nub theory, commonly referred to as “the angle of the dangle”,’ she goes on with a mischievous smile.
‘We need to locate the genital tubercle and determine the angle. If the nub is angled upwards it can indicate a male foetus. If it’s pointing down towards the spine, then it indicates a female.
As I say, it is only about ninety-five per cent accurate, so if you would rather not know, wait until your next scan to be sure. ’
Do I want to know? I will love this child completely, whether it’s a girl or a boy.
I already do. Would Jack want to know, though?
I’m sure he would and that he wouldn’t be disappointed whichever sex it was.
Would it help Evie knowing it’s not just a baby but a little brother or sister?
She could help choose names and the decoration for the nursery, which would be a way of involving her.
I take a deep breath and nod nervously.
‘Sure?’ she asks.
‘Sure.’ I nod more firmly.
‘Okay. See here?’ She points to the monitor. ‘The nub is angled upwards.’
‘A boy?’ I ask, my mind reeling as my thoughts fly to Kai. As pleased as I am, my chest constricts as I imagine he will think I’m trying to replace him.
‘I’m ninety-five per cent certain,’ she reminds me. ‘So how old is your first?’ she continues chattily, and I feel my own heart stall.
‘He would have been six next birthday,’ I whisper, tears sliding from my eyes despite my best efforts to stop them.
She falls silent for a moment, then, ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, and gently takes hold of my hand. ‘I understand your grief,’ she adds quietly. ‘I lost a child too. A girl.’
I snap my gaze towards her.
‘I would be lying if I said that the pain will go away. It never does, but it gets more bearable over time. You’ll never forget your little boy,’ she goes on, as if promising me. ‘He will always be with you, but now you have every reason to look forward to the future.’
I stare at her in wonder. It was as if she knew exactly what I needed to hear. Up until that moment I hadn’t really dared allow myself to think I should have a future.