by Sue Shepherd
Beth gazed at the turquoise floor length dress in the mirror. It wasn’t to her taste, but she was touched that Michelle had chosen her to be the one and only bridesmaid, and she’d gladly wear whatever made her friend happy. She did as she was told and changed back into her jeans and T-shirt.
As they left the shop, Michelle asked, ‘Fancy a coffee somewhere?’
‘You mean like a café?’
‘Yeah. Somewhere quiet.’
‘You can come back to mine if you like.’
‘No.’ Michelle shook her head. ‘James will be there.’
‘Oh, OK,’ Beth agreed, and they headed to the nearest café.
With two coffees in front of them and a doughnut for Michelle, Beth asked, ‘What do you want to talk about? What is it that you can’t say in front of James?’
‘Um …’ Michelle bit into her doughnut.
‘Should you be eating that? What did the dressmaker say?’
Michelle wiped the jam from the corner of her mouth. ‘Oh, don’t worry about her. It’s one week away, I can’t put on much weight in a week.’
‘If you say so. Right, well then …?’
Michelle’s face broke into a grin. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Beth’s eyebrows shot up. ‘No way?’
‘Yep. I’m nearly four months already.’
‘Well that explains the dress.’
‘I’m just so hungry all the time.’ Michelle popped a large piece of doughnut in her mouth.
‘What does your mum say?’ Beth pictured Mrs Grant with her ‘cat’s bum’ face.
‘I haven’t told her yet. She’ll go ballistic.’
‘What will you do when a baby turns up in five months’ time?’
‘I’ll tell her before that. I’m not going to try and pass this off as a honeymoon baby. I just … you know … I didn’t want her to spoil it. Ricky asked me to marry him before we found out about this little one.’ She placed her hand on her belly. ‘But Mum will think he’s only marrying me out of a sense of duty and … I don’t want her to say something upsetting.’
‘I understand.’
‘It’s funny, you know, when you were pregnant with your, um …’
‘Mandy.’
‘Oh yes, you had a name all picked out. I remember now. Well, when you were pregnant, we were just sixteen and I was horrified. I couldn’t imagine wanting a baby inside my body. I thought it would be like that film Alien. But now …’
‘Now, you’re happy?’
‘Yes, I am. I really am. I know it’s not ideal. I know Mum will be embarrassed. But …’
Beth answered for her, ‘You don’t care what anyone thinks, because you’re happy.’
‘Yes. Spot on.’
‘I can see that. I’m pleased for you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But … I thought you were on the pill?’
‘I was putting on weight. It just didn’t agree with me. So, we …’
‘What?’
‘We started using the um … withdrawal method.’
‘Ha. Ricky always was a bit slow.’ Beth laughed.
‘I know.’
‘Well, you’re definitely going to put on weight now!’
‘Yeah. But I don’t care. Anyway, what about you two? Do you think you’ll want a baby soon? Or is your mortgage too much.’
‘We’re OK, we’re kind of just leaving it to fate. You know, if it happens we’ll be pleased, but if it doesn’t, we’re OK. No rush.’
‘That’s cool.’
Finishing her drink, Beth said, ‘I’d better get back now.’ She kissed her friend on both cheeks, and ordered, playfully, ‘Lay off those doughnuts. At least for the next week, OK?’
‘But I love ’em.’
Beth laughed. ‘Seriously though, congratulations. I’m really pleased for you and Ricky.’
‘Thank you.’
Beth headed back to her car.
‘Why didn’t you tell her?’ Lisa asked.
‘Why didn’t I tell her what?’
‘The truth. She’s your oldest friend. You shouldn’t have to lie.’
‘I couldn’t. I … can’t tell anyone.’ Beth blinked back the tears of frustration.
‘I’ll give you your due, you pulled it off. If I didn’t know, I’d never suspect.’
Beth got into her car and scrabbled around in her glove box for some tissues. Blowing her nose, she told her sister, ‘I can’t tell her. If I do, I’ll have to tell James, and Mum and Dad, and Nanna, and … where will it end?’
Beth had told no one, not even her own husband, just how much she was ready for a baby. They’d agreed not to use contraception after their wedding, and what she’d told Michelle was partly true. If you asked James if they wanted children, he would no doubt reply that they were just seeing what happened. No pressure, no rush, they were still young, if she got pregnant they’d be happy, blah blah blah. But in reality, Beth had been trying to get pregnant ever since they’d got their own home. She’d heard that women were most fertile in the middle of their cycle, so she’d been sure to make love as much as possible around that time. It was still early days in their marriage, making time for sex was far from a chore. Beth would have to say that trying for a baby wasn’t hard when you fancy the pants off your husband. No, trying was not hard, but failing was.
Every month her period arrived with frustrating regularity. Each period was like a slap to the face, a reminder that she’d been unsuccessful. About a week after her period, the hoping began again. She allowed herself to think maybe this month would be the one. The shagging started in earnest. And then she waited. The days leading up to the next period were the most unbearable. She tried with all her might to function as a normal human being and yet, secretly, in her head, there was an internal monologue playing over and over. She couldn’t help but ask herself – does my body feel different? It’d been such a long time since she’d conceived Mandy, she struggled to remember how it felt to have her inside her. Were her breasts fuller? Her belly rounder? Did food have a metallic taste? She searched each month for clues that would suggest she’d made it to her goal. She constantly asked herself, how she had effortlessly achieved something in minutes on Mario’s parents’ sofa, that she absolutely couldn’t seem to achieve in a loving, committed marriage?
But it was stated in all the pregnancy magazines that even your average healthy couple could take at least a year to conceive. She tried her hardest not to panic. Maybe they were just not an average couple. Determined not to worry about all the blood she’d lost and the trauma her body had gone through at seventeen, Beth repeatedly told herself that her turn would soon come.
By the time Michelle and Ricky’s baby son, Solomon, was born, Beth had experienced five more failed months. She was now struggling to appear quite so laid back when people asked her about her plans. She’d spoken to James about her desire, and he was on board. In as much as he was always happy to oblige whenever she suggested it would be a good time to have sex. Her parents and Nanna had also begun to work out that maybe she was keen to have a baby.
They were pleased, but were always careful not to ask too many questions. Pat especially knew there was no point in asking someone how their trying to conceive journey was going. If Beth got pregnant, she’d tell them, if she didn’t, the last thing she needed was an interrogation.
A couple of the girls at work had fallen pregnant and happily toddled off on maternity leave. The strain of not showing her jealousy was beginning to take its toll on Beth. She tried to remain calm on the outside, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to think about anything other than babies.
There was a joke at the salon about one of the chairs being the ‘up the duff’ chair. A couple of clients had sat in it and announced their pregnancies soon after, as had one of the stylists. The jokes were flying around the salon about the magic fertility chair. Women who were fortunate enough to already have their desired number of children refused to have their hair done at that stati
on.
Beth often sat in the magic chair. Casually lowering herself down, she would pretend to be resting her aching feet, or adjusting a shoe. Just for a second, she would close her eyes and wish for a baby. Lisa thought it was a ridiculous idea. In all honesty, so did Beth, but she had to explore every avenue.
One night when all the clients had left, Beth was sitting in the chair, pretending to flick through a magazine.
‘The way to get pregnant is for his sperm to meet your egg. Not to sit in some stupid chair.’
‘I know that.’
‘So, what the hell are you doing sitting here with your eyes closed, repeating the words, please give me a baby, over and over in your stupid head? Who do you think you’re asking? Who do you think is listening, apart from me?’
‘I don’t know. I just want a baby.’
‘Are you going to do the wishing well by the precinct too?’
‘I might.’
‘Idiot.’
Beth tried again to explain to Lisa how desperate she was. ‘I know it’s all madness. I DO KNOW how a baby is made. But … we’re doing that. His sperm is meeting my eggs as often as possible. It’s been too long. I don’t know what else to do.’
‘Blimey, I remember you telling me you’d never have another baby.’
‘Yes, well I told you I’d never let another man near me as well. I’m not that naive seventeen-year-old any more.’
‘Right, do what you know needs to be done. Go to the doctor, and take James with you.’
‘I will. But he’s incredibly stubborn. It’s his northern pride, and his absolute belief it’s not down to him. I could strangle him sometimes. You know what he thinks, don’t you?’
‘Yes. He’s a git for saying it’s probably down to your miscarriage. There’s no way of knowing what’s preventing you from getting pregnant until you BOTH have tests.’
‘I hate that he thinks it’s OK to blame my miscarriage. It’s like he’s blaming Mandy somehow.’
‘He’s scared to admit this might be down to him. Stupid macho idiot.’
‘I know. But none of what happened was Mandy’s fault.’
‘Is she what this is all about?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why do you want a baby so much? You’ve got years. Is this about replacing her?’
‘I …’ If Beth was honest with herself, there had been a hole in her life since her seventeenth birthday. She wasn’t fully over the fact she never got to meet Mandy or to love her properly. But there was more to it than that. She wanted to be a mum. It was the next logical step, after marriage. And she couldn’t see why everyone else was getting their wish, whilst she was being left behind.
‘There are lots of reasons why I want to be pregnant. It’s a perfectly natural thing to wish for. I’d do anything to make it happen. I’ve read about it. I’m willing to have all kinds of exploratory surgery. Cameras poked at me from all directions and dye shot through my tubes. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.’
‘Yeah, while your idiot of a husband isn’t prepared to wank into a plastic cup!’
PART FOUR
Forty-four
Beth was in WH Smith looking at wedding anniversary cards for James.
Three years already!
She wasn’t feeling the love. For the last few months he’d fobbed her off, claiming to be too busy with work to attend any of the appointments she’d made for them with the doctor. His opinion seemed to be it was still early days, and a baby would come along when they least expected it.
But Beth was beyond that reasoning. She could no longer convince herself a pregnancy was on the cards. Their sex life had begun to revolve around ‘trying to conceive’ sex, which she found to be very different from ‘loving, caring’ sex. It was, setting an alarm clock to go off half an hour earlier than her usual time, hearing the alarm go off and knowing she had to have the quickest, most efficient sex she could. It was, realising her own pleasure had become less important, making James the top priority, she had to make him climax, she needed his sperm. It had all become clinical and depressing. And still no baby.
Beth chose a card. Skim reading the words, she saw ‘love’ ‘cherish’ ‘happiness’. That would have to do. She’d get him a large bar of Toblerone to go with it. There wasn’t going to be any romance on this anniversary. Thanks to her period arriving bang on time yesterday, there wasn’t going to be much of anything.
As she headed towards the till to pay for the card, a large book caught her eye. Its title was long and scientific. But in the middle of all the unfamiliar words she spotted ‘Fertility’ and ‘Pregnancy’.
Being a hardback, it was far from cheap, but it took her less than a second to make the decision to buy it.
Rushing into the lounge, Beth was delighted to see James wasn’t home yet. All she wanted to do was devour the book. Somewhere, in this great heavy lump of paper, was the answer.
Not even bothering to make herself a hot drink, she threw herself into it, deciding to flick through and stop at any page that caught her eye.
The first chapter she read was all about charting. She learnt if she took her temperature every morning, she could keep a beautiful colour co-ordinated chart, and be able to pinpoint exactly when she was ovulating.
‘Look at it. Isn’t it brilliant?’
‘Yes, it’s … colourful.’ Lisa seemed sceptical.
‘It says not all women ovulate halfway through their cycle. Maybe I’ve been timing it all wrong.’
It was rare for Lisa to show any sympathy, but she mustered up some at that point. ‘You do it all the sodding time. I should know, I have to keep trying not to listen. A chart won’t mean shit unless you go to the doctor. I’m sorry. I know you think this book is the answer to your prayers, but …’
‘It’s a start. It’s something. If I don’t give it my best shot, I’ll go insane.’
‘Fair enough. You’d better put felt tipped pens on the shopping list then.’
‘And a thermometer. It says you can either put it under your tongue or up your … you know … girly bits.’
‘Fuck me, just choose one and stick to it. For God’s sake, don’t chop and change!’
Beth continued to flick through, looking for further words of wisdom to jump out at her. After she’d speed read a chapter on healthy eating, she noticed a chapter on twins and stopped to read.
And then, there it was, ‘Vanishing Twin Syndrome’. They read together – ‘As many as one in ten pregnancies starts out as twins. At some point, early in the pregnancy, one of the twins will stop developing, and will be absorbed by either the mother’s body, the placenta or the twin.’
There was a silence between them. Beth gulped. She’d never seen it written down.
Lisa whispered,’ You absorbed me.’
‘I guess so.’ Beth sniffed back tears. ‘It doesn’t sound very nice when they put it like that, does it?’
‘I vanished?’
‘Yes.’
‘One in ten. That’s …’
‘Amazing. Do you think there are others like you?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose there must be.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, me too.’
Closing the book, Beth put it on the bookcase. She was determined to read more, still convinced it was going to help her to get the baby she craved. But for now, both she and Lisa were too raw, they needed to catch their breath.
As she continued trying to convince James to attend a doctor’s appointment, friends, work colleagues and customers were becoming pregnancies non-stop. It was like an epidemic. It seemed wherever Beth looked, there was a baby bump. Her stomach churned with every announcement, and she wanted to scream at the injustice of it all.
By now her need to be pregnant had become the worst kept secret in the world.
Not long after their anniversary, on a glorious Sunday afternoon, James invited Michelle and Ricky over for a roast dinner. He liked to play the host, although he prefe
rred not to be the one to do all the work.
Unexpectedly, Michelle arrived alone. Apologising, she explained Ricky had popped over to visit his mum, who was having a down day. He’d taken their son with him.
Beth suspected Solomon’s absence had more to do with the fact that Michelle knew how much she struggled with babies. Bless her for not rubbing my nose in it. ‘It’ll be nice for him to see his granny.’
‘Yes, I hope it cheers her up a bit. He’s gotten so big and cuddly now.’
‘Speaking of his grannies. I keep meaning to ask you, how’s your mum finding being a grandparent?’
‘She loves it.’
‘Is she as strict with him as she was with you?’
‘God, no. She dotes on him. The only thing is …’
‘What?’
‘Oh, don’t laugh, Beth, but she insists on calling him “Sol”.’
‘So?’
‘She’s dead proud of him. It’s all our Sol this and our Sol that.’
‘And?’
‘Repeat it to yourself, Beth.’
Beth did so. ‘Oh my God! Does she realise?’
‘Not once. I can’t stop laughing every time she says it. I will NEVER shorten that boy’s name.’
Beth laughed. ‘It’s going to be bloody hard for me not to say it now.’
‘You mustn’t. Ricky’ll go ape!’
‘OK, I’ll try.’
‘I’m sorry they couldn’t come.’
‘Never mind, it’ll just be the three of us. Like old times.’
‘Yep. Have you hidden the Trivial Pursuits?’
Beth glanced at the bookcase where the infuriating game sat, gathering dust, on the bottom shelf. Above it was her fertility textbook.
James had been doing overtime and had agreed to finish for lunch around two o’clock. However, by half past, there was still no sign of him.
‘I knew I should’ve done something else. I only did a full roast because James suggested it, and now it’s going to spoil.’
‘It’ll be all right. Don’t panic.’
‘But it’s nice outside. I could’ve done a pasta dish or even a salad.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s fine. Even in the middle of summer, everyone loves a roast.’ Michelle tried to stop Beth from flapping.