A Winter's Wish Come True Page 4
Out of nowhere, I burst into tears. Huge, wailing sobs burst from my chest and I throw my head into my hands. I start to realise how utterly ridiculous this whole situation is, and start laughing instead. My sobs mix with my giggles to form strange sort of hiccupping sounds.
‘Are you OK?’ Emma asks, trying to keep her own laughter to herself. ‘You sound like a cat being strangled or something!’
I lift my head up and wipe the tears from my eyes as my breathing returns to normal. ‘I’m not OK, Emma. But I think I will be, eventually; I just need to get my head around the fact I’m having a bloody baby with my ex-boyfriend. This is definitely not how I saw things playing out, that night at the George Hotel. Do you remember when I did that speech at my high school reunion and Scott walked in?’
She nods, a wistful smile playing on her lips. ‘Oh, I remember; I was the one who posted some of it online so he’d see you kicking ass! You two might work things out though, you never know. How did he take the baby news?’
I screw my eyes shut and tell her about our confrontation in the café. How he’d asked if the baby was his, how he’d initially thought he’d been invited for a getting back together chat, and how shocked he’d been when the word ‘pregnant’ had been mentioned.
‘Must’ve been quite a shock for him,’ Emma says. ‘He thought you wanted to get back together with him, next minute he finds out he’s going to be a dad! I think he’ll come through for you, you know. He’s not a bad guy, Cleo.’
Her final words sting and make my insides twist into knots, mostly because I know she’s right.
‘You’re right,’ I choke out. ‘He’s not a bad bloke. I just … I can’t get past the fact he left me. Why did he do it, Emma? Was it me, was I not enough? Or did he just make a mistake? If I let him back in, he could decide he wants to leave me again. Only this time, he’d be leaving our baby too.’
Emma reaches over and squeezes my hand. ‘I don’t know why he did it, but I do know this: you are more than enough and you always will be. And no matter what happens between you and Scott, you’ll be an amazing mum. Whether he stays or leaves again, nothing will change that. Think of everything you’ve achieved so far: two years ago, you made a bucket list and now you’ve ticked so many items off! How many people can say they’ve done that? You swam in a tank with sharks, Cleo. Having a baby will just be another huge adventure. And I’ll be the best fairy godmother in the whole world.’
Emma switches the TV on and settles on one of our favourite trashy reality shows. I look down at my stomach again; it’s amazing that there’s so much going on inside me right now, yet no one could visibly tell. I feel like I’m standing at the edge of a dark forest, the path through it shrouded in a thick fog. I have no idea what the next few months are going to bring and I’m petrified.
The only thing I can do is take it one day at a time.
*
I’ve always hated doctors’ surgeries.
The smell, the eerie silence and the selection of ten-year-old magazines are bad enough, but what really gets to me is the impending sense of doom as you wait for the doctor. Even if you know you’re just going for a routine check-up, there’s always that niggling worry that you’re about to be told you have some rare disease with no known cure.
I’m here on my own today. I was lucky to get a cancellation when I phoned up earlier, and Emma was already at work so she couldn’t come. She offered to tell her boss she was ill, but I said no. She’s already done more than enough for me, after all. I’ve texted Scott to let him know I have a doctor’s appointment, but he hasn’t replied. I’m guessing he’s still angry with me after our argument in the café.
So here I am, waiting to see the doctor and secretly expecting to be told some devastating news when I go in. Sitting opposite me is a very tired-looking mum, trying to contain her very excited toddler. He seems intent on running around the waiting room making aeroplane noises, while she tries to tempt him to sit down with various books and toys.
I chuckle as she tries and fails to lift him onto the squishy brown seat. She looks up and flashes me a weary smile.
‘There’s no tiring him out,’ she says, rubbing her tired eyes. ‘I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in three years!’
A feeling of panic runs through me; is this what motherhood is really like? No sleep and trying to entertain a kid intent on pretending to be various modes of transport?
‘He’s … full of beans!’ I reply with a nervous chuckle. ‘What’s his name?’
‘Max.’ The woman manages to scoop her son up into her arms as he giggles into her neck. ‘He’s a handful sometimes, but I wouldn’t be without him now. We’re here because I’ve just found out he’s going to have a little brother or sister next year!’
‘Oh congratulations!’ I say, feeling my anxiety ease off a little. ‘I’ve … actually just found out I’m pregnant too. My first.’
I give my stomach a fond pat and my waiting room buddy smiles, finally succeeding in getting Max interested in a book about giraffes.
‘Congratulations,’ she replies. ‘It’s a huge adventure, although it’s pretty scary to start off with. When I found out I was pregnant with Max, my first thought was “oh my god, how am I going to look after this tiny person?” But after he was born, maternal instinct just kind of kicked in. It was hard at first, but after a while everything becomes second nature. I’m Eve, by the way.’
‘Nice to meet you, Eve; I’m Cleo.’ I smile and reach over to shake her hand.
‘Is anyone coming to your appointment with you?’
She gazes around the waiting room, looking for anyone I might’ve arrived with. My heart sinks a little as I realise I’m about to do something so huge by myself. It’s definitely not how I saw things happening.
‘Um … no,’ I reply with a sad smile. ‘No, I’m on my own today.’
Eve’s smile fades. ‘Oh no, I’m sorry. It can be a little bit daunting coming to these things by yourself. My partner Paul’s at work today, which is why I’ve got Max tagging along with me!’
I swallow the lump in my throat and do my best to hold myself together. I can’t help but feel a teeny bit envious that Eve has a loving partner to support her through her pregnancy. I have a fantastic support unit of my own of course, but I can’t help wishing I had someone to go on the journey with me.
‘It’s … erm … it’s complicated,’ I say, knowing that’ll probably raise a lot more questions. ‘Everything’s fine though; I’ve got my mum and my best friend. They just can’t be here today.’
A set of footsteps to my right distracts my focus from the conversation. I turn to see who they belong to, and my heart leaps into my mouth within seconds.
Scott.
‘I’m not too late, am I?’ he says, running a hand through his hair.
I stand up, without really knowing why, and all the other patients turn to look at me. Fab, I say to myself, I’ve turned the doctor’s waiting room into an episode of Days of Our Lives. All we need now is Doctor Drake Ramoray to make an appearance.
‘Um … no, you’re not too late,’ I say, sweeping some hair away from my face. ‘You got my text then?’
He nods and takes a few steps towards me. ‘I was quite surprised to hear from you, to be honest. I didn’t think you’d want me here after what happened when we last saw each other.’
I look into his huge brown eyes and feel my heart skip a beat. I curse myself for still reacting to him – not exactly ideal when we’ve split up.
‘This is your baby too, Scott. I didn’t want you to miss the first doctor’s appointment.’ I pause for a second before continuing. ‘I’m … I’m glad you’re here.’
We exchange weak smiles, before Doctor Maxwell steps into the waiting room.
‘Cleopatra Jones?’ she says, looking around the room for me.
I cringe at hearing my full name and hear Scott give a soft chuckle; he knows how much I hate it.
‘That’s me,’ I say, stepping f
orward. ‘And it’s just Cleo.’
‘No problem. Are you ready to come through?’ Doctor Maxwell asks.
Scott and I look at each other for a moment. We don’t need words to communicate how we’re feeling, our fear is written all over our faces.
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘We’re ready.’
*
The doctor’s appointment goes a lot better than I expected, even if it became a bit intrusive at times. I take the opportunity to ask lots of questions, including whether my previous experience with an eating disorder will affect the baby at all.
‘If you feel like you’d benefit from support and counselling through your pregnancy, we can arrange that for you,’ Doctor Maxwell explains.
I feel some tension release from my body when I hear that; one of my biggest fears has just been laid to rest. Scott runs a hand across his face and takes a deep breath. It’s only then that I notice just how tired he is. He looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders and I feel a pang of sympathy for him.
‘Thanks,’ I say, wanting to break up the awkward silence. ‘I’ll definitely think about it.’
‘Have you got any idea when the twelve-week scan will be?’ Scott asks, his voice laced with exhaustion. ‘I want to make sure I don’t miss it.’
‘I’ll get you referred to the maternity unit at the hospital as soon as possible,’ she replies. ‘There’s usually what we call a booking appointment first, where you meet your midwife and have a good chat about the pregnancy. It’s definitely an experience you won’t want to miss!’
From the mildly horrified look on Scott’s face, I can tell he’d rather be eaten alive by a pack of wolves. Still, he’s here, no matter how scared he might be.
I try to ignore the butterflies releasing themselves into my stomach. It’s obviously the baby … isn’t it?
Chapter Four
As luck would have it, we don’t have to wait long for our first appointment with a midwife. A couple of days after seeing Doctor Maxwell, Scott and I are at the hospital to meet the person who’ll be guiding us through the next six months.
‘Nervous?’ he asks, casting me a sideways glance.
I grimace. ‘A little bit, what about you?’
He swallows hard but styles it out with an easy smile. ‘Weirdly yeah, but I don’t know why! I did some reading on the internet and we’re basically just going to be chatting about things like birth plans and prenatal care.’
I stifle a giggle. ‘Well, aren’t you just a big pregnancy encyclopaedia!’
He blushes. ‘Don’t laugh at me, I wanted to be prepared! I’ve got no experience of this stuff, so I didn’t know what to expect.’
‘Well you know at the twenty-week scan, they beam me up to the mother ship and start the experiments,’ I joke.
He gives my arm a playful push. ‘Very funny! Don’t pretend you haven’t been reading up on stuff too.’
It’s my turn to blush. ‘I started looking stuff up online yesterday, but I scared myself too much. Reading articles on pre-eclampsia and placenta praevia isn’t a great idea!’
‘Reminds me of when you used that online symptom checker and it said you probably had malaria!’ He laughs. ‘I told my mum about the baby. She called me a “silly boy” when I told her we weren’t together anymore, but she’s pretty excited about the whole thing.’
I try not to make my relief too visible. Some people find my mum scary – which, sometimes, she is – but she has nothing on Scott’s mum. Although she’s been nothing but lovely to me the handful of times I’ve met her, I’m petrified of the woman. She’s also married to a very rich man, so I’m fairly sure she has the means to get rid of me if she wants.
A door to my right opens and a friendly-looking woman steps into the waiting room.
‘Cleopatra Jones?’
There’s something about the kindness in the woman’s face that doesn’t make me cringe when I hear my full name. Scott and I stand up and she turns to face us.
‘That’s me!’ I say with a wave.
‘My name’s Lisa,’ the woman replies. ‘If you’d like to follow me, we’ll go through and get started.’
We follow her to a bright, sunny consulting room and sit down opposite her at a large desk. On the far wall, there’s a bed surrounded by a curtain that I really hope I don’t need to use today.
‘Don’t look so nervous,’ Lisa says with a reassuring smile. ‘We’re just going to have a chat about your pregnancy today, and things like where you might want to have the baby.’
‘Hospital is obviously the best choice,’ Scott says almost straight away. ‘There’s access to equipment, pain relief, medical professionals if something goes wrong. It’s a no-brainer.’
I fold my arms and glare at him. This big pregnancy encyclopaedia thing could get annoying very quickly if he keeps this up.
‘Actually,’ I say, trying to keep my voice calm and even. ‘I wouldn’t mind hearing about some of the other options.’
He frowns. ‘Like what, giving birth in a box under the stairs like a cat?’
Luckily for him, Lisa decides to interject. ‘There are lots of other birthing options if you don’t want to be here in the hospital. There’s a birthing centre not too far from here that specialises in water births, for example.’
Scott scoffs, but I cut in before he can voice his objections. ‘I’d like to know more about water births. I’ve heard it’s a really relaxing way to bring the baby into the world.’
Out the corner of my eye, I can see him fold his arms and shake his head. He’s muttering under his breath, but I’m not paying any attention to him. Lisa’s grin broadens. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s enjoying him being so uncomfortable.
‘A lot of women find them really beneficial. The water provides good pain relief and an informal environment to give birth in. I’ve got a leaflet here if you want to look at it?’
Scott decides he can’t help himself anymore and sits forward. ‘An informal environment is all well and good, but what if something goes wrong? Say a problem develops and we need a medical team. What happens then?’
I grit my teeth. ‘We won’t need anything, Scott. I’m the one who’s going to be giving birth, so maybe I should be the one asking the questions.’
He takes note of my tone and frowns. I give him a look that suggests we’ll be having words when this appointment’s over, so he should brace himself.
‘I’ll take that leaflet on water births, thanks,’ I say with a sweet smile.
*
We leave after a huge discussion on everything baby-related and booking the sixteen and twenty-week appointments. I make Lisa aware of my struggles with bulimia and body dysmorphia and she mentions that there’s counselling available if I want it. She checks my weight and measures my BMI to put it on my file. It’s a pretty special moment to hear I’m in a healthy range for both, but I manage to hold back my tears.
Scott, meanwhile, apparently has opinions on breastfeeding (‘it’s the only choice, Cleo!’), antenatal classes (‘we should start them as soon as possible’) and pain relief options (‘the stronger the better’). He apparently didn’t learn his lesson during the water birth discussion. By the time the appointment’s finished, I could quite happily strangle him.
‘You just had to jump in at every opportunity, didn’t you?’ I shout as we head to his car. I’m so angry I almost drop my pregnancy notes in a puddle. ‘I know you’ve been doing a lot of reading Scott, but you need to rein it in! And don’t dismiss water births altogether either, I’m seriously considering one.’
‘I don’t want my baby to be born in a paddling pool with no medical help!’ he argues. ‘And I’m sorry for getting a bit overexcited, but I’m not sorry for caring about you and the baby. This is a huge deal for me, Cleo, and maybe I went overboard today but it’s only because I want to make sure everything goes smoothly. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to either of you.’
I take a deep breath a
nd look at him. ‘Nothing’s going to, trust me. Even if I decide to have a water birth, that doesn’t mean something’s going to go wrong. And if it does, the hospital’s really near the birthing centre; they can have me here in five minutes if they need to. I get that this is all new and exciting and a bit scary, but please try and relax. I know you’ve been doing your research, and that’s great, but just try and hold back with the outbursts for a bit, OK?’
Scott nods, digging his hands into his pockets. ‘I can do that. It was a lot to take in today, wasn’t it? I still can’t quite believe this is happening.’
‘You’re telling me,’ I reply, running my hands through my hair. ‘It still hasn’t quite sunk in yet. Listen, Scott … thanks for being here today. With everything that’s been going on with us, I was scared I’d end up going to these appointments by myself and … well, it meant a lot that you were there.’
We stop and face each other for a moment, forgetting we’re standing in the middle of the hospital car park.
‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ he says. His eyes are soft and I’m reminded of just how gorgeous they are. ‘Cleo … no matter what happens with us, you’ll never be alone in this. I promise.’
He reaches for my hand and gives it an affectionate squeeze. I feel myself melt a little as I remember how it used to be between us: the intimacy, the friendship, the trust. For a brief second, I can’t remember what drove us apart …
Until his phone goes off.
He sighs and fishes it out of his jeans pocket. I catch a glimpse of the name on the screen: Kayleigh.
‘Who’s that?’ I ask.
‘Oh, she’s just a new client, that’s all,’ Scott replies. ‘She’s just texting to book her next session with me.’
‘Your clients don’t usually text you, do they?’ I say, trying not to sound like I’m being nosy even though I am. ‘They usually book their next session with you after they’ve finished their latest one.’
He nods and shrugs. ‘Yeah, usually but Kayleigh and I swapped numbers because her workload can be a bit unpredictable sometimes. She finds it easier to book by text when she knows what day she can do.’