‘Think I’ll adjourn to the chair.’ With his hands on the small of his back, he lumbered across to the blue vinyl chair by the side of the bed and plopped down into it.
‘Do you want to play I Spy or Who Am I?’ he offered cheerily.
‘Neither. I want to play Let’s Get this Bloody Baby Out and Go Home to our Comfy Warm Bed and our Nice New Nursery!’ Jessica wriggled further down the mattress and smiled at the thought.
Matthew stood and bent in to kiss his wife on her forehead. ‘It won’t be much longer, Jess.’
Jessica raised her arms and leant forward to kiss her husband. At that very instant a powerful stabbing pain ripped through her lower abdomen. This was in a different league to any contraction she had previously experienced.
‘Oh God… Matt!’ Her eyes were squeezed shut as she held her breath and shrank back against the pillows, gripping the blanket inside her knotted palms.
‘Shall I get someone?’ Matthew hovered, placing his hand over her bunched fingers and trying not to let the panic show in his voice. He had never seen her in pain like this and it scared him.
Jessica nodded as sweat poured from her forehead, her cheeks flushed, her face contorted. Matthew yanked the red cord that dangled loosely against the wall over her head.
‘It’s okay, Jess. It’s all going to be okay. Hang in there, baby.’ He looked towards the door. ‘Where the fuck is everyone?’ he shouted as he made his way over to it.
‘Don’t… don’t leave me!’ she managed through gulps of air that fuelled her pain.
‘I have to leave you to go and get someone, but I am literally only going to poke my head outside and I’ll be straight back. No one is responding to the cord!’ He yanked at it twice more as he looked into her eyes. ‘I’ll only be a second. I promise.’
Matthew let go of her hand and ran from the room. As the warm gush of blood flowed over her inner thighs, Jessica sensed the bright lights swimming in front of her eyes. The room spun as if she was drunk. She looked above her head and tried to focus on the red cord that flickered in and out of focus. She wanted to pull it again, she wanted Matt to come back and she wanted someone medical to come and help her, but to reach for the cord or even call out felt impossible. She felt herself slipping as if drugged. Though she knew she had a job to do, a baby to deliver, she couldn’t resist the black mass that pulled her in, sending her tense muscles soft and throwing a welcome veil of indifference over her panic.
14th March, 2014
Today we had a visit from the priest. He made his way along the corridor, popping into rooms with his usual fixed, happy smile and air of serenity. As one of the girls pointed out, it’s all right for him, he only has to be here for an hour a week, no wonder he’s bloody happy. I shy away from him, keep my distance, unable to look him in the eye. I don’t want his words of kindness or understanding, as I deserve neither. His God knows what I have done. I do think about when I die and where I might go. When I was younger I used to wonder where Danny had gone. I would lie in my bed, trying to picture how something so solid could just disappear. Then I really did start looking at his bed and feeling sad and confused that he was not going to use it again. Half of me wished my mum and dad would throw all his stuff away so I wouldn’t have to think about how he had disappeared and half of me wanted it preserved forever, so all I had to do was sit on his duvet and look at his books neatly lined up on the shelf, books that he had touched.
I went through a phase of picturing him sitting on a cloud with Grandad Maxwell and Flossy the rabbit; everyone we had ever lost all sitting together on their spongy white cushion, sharing memories and watching the world below as if we were tiny ants. I pictured them pulling crackers at Christmas. I realised one day that this was rubbish. There were no deceased relatives sitting on clouds: they would have dropped right through.
Graham Thornton was the cleverest boy in my school and he told me there was no heaven and that dead people were just like dead plants, but heavier. He told me that everything withered, died and returned to soil. I thought about this for years and it made a lot of sense: we were just like plants, but heavier and cleverer. But I still thought about the spark that Danny had, the things that made him unlike any other human, the stuff inside him – his soul, I suppose. Where did that go? I saw his soul as a mist, like smoke, that settled over those that had loved him. This would explain how Mum and Dad and all of us that had loved him still felt him close, because a little bit of him was settled on us.
Now I’m older and have time to think about this, and I do think about it a lot. I have almost come full circle. I remember asking my dad when I was little, ‘What do you think, Dad? Do you think there is a heaven?’ He sighed and said, ‘Oh wow, now there’s a question. Do I think there is a heaven?’ I remember he looked skywards as though this might be where the answer lay. ‘I think I don’t know the answer to that, Jess,’ he whispered, ‘but if there is and there is a chance, just the smallest chance that we get to see those we’ve loved again, then I’m willing to keep an open mind.’ I know those who have gone before don’t sit in clouds, but I do think they might be in heaven. I hope that they are in heaven. Sometimes, sitting in my little room, I draw those I have loved, perching on the clouds. I always put Matthew in the middle. My baby, my beautiful baby, is an angel and I give her wings of elaborate feathers. I hope one day we all meet in heaven. I hope and pray with all my heart that this is true.
Twelve
Jessica was aware of the blink of the overhead strip-light and its irritating buzz, which drew her from sleep. She opened her eyes briefly and closed them again. She knew she had to concentrate, had to keep her lids open, but it was hard. The temptation to fall back into sleep was strong. She kept her eyes open long enough to realise that she was in a different room, a larger one. Her tongue was stuck to the dry roof of her mouth and every part of her hurt. Her bones ached and her muscles felt bruised. She was scared to move.
Staring at the ceiling, she noticed this one was pristine: no sign of Italy or the state of Texas. Her fingers flexed against the cool sheets. She felt confused and groggy. She plucked at the hospital gown that she was wearing, disliking its papery texture and wondering where her own nightie was. Slowly turning her head to the right, she was disappointed to see that she was alone; Matthew was nowhere to be seen.
The window blind was closed, but the silence of the hospital and subdued lighting told her it was night-time. How could that be? How much time had passed? It had been early morning when she arrived. Baby. The word leapt into her mind and the fog began to clear. Of course! She had been there to have a baby. What had happened? She placed her palm on her stomach, felt the wadding beneath her gown and she knew her baby was gone from her, but where was it now?
Using her arms to pull herself up slightly, Jessica managed to get into a sitting position, despite the sharp pain across her abdomen and the twinge in the back of her right hand as she flexed the cannula that was lodged there. She sat still for a few minutes before realising she was attached to a tube that snaked its way down the side of the mattress onto the floor. A catheter. She didn’t know what had happened, but her instinct told her that it was something bad. Carefully sinking back down onto the mattress, Jessica lay very still and closed her eyes. Tears leaked from her as she tried to sift her jumbled thoughts. What had happened? Where was Matthew? And most importantly, had her baby survived? ‘Matt…’ she called weakly into the semi-darkness. ‘Matt…’ The darkness pulled at her senses as once again she slipped into a deep slumber.
It was some hours later that she heard Matthew’s voice, which was quiet, soothing. ‘Hey there.’
His words came from a space to the right of her head. She opened her eyes and looked first at the ceiling and then slowly turned to where her husband sat.
‘Hey, my love. How are you feeling?’ he whispered.
‘Matt…’
‘It’s okay, Jess. I’m right here.’
‘I don’t…’ Her voice was a warbl
ed croak, issuing from a throat that was raw. Jessica lifted her arm, which felt peculiarly heavy as she ran her fingers over the base of her throat.
‘It’ll be sore, I expect, Jess. They put a tube down your throat to help you breathe. That’ll pass in a day or so. Don’t worry. Don’t you worry about a thing. Everything is going to be just fine.’
I don’t know what’s happened. I’m in hospital. I hurt. I came here and I was laughing, I came to have a baby… baby… have I had my baby?
‘Baby,’ she rasped through parched lips, her eyes once again falling shut.
‘Yes, Jess. Baby.’ He sounded emotional, choked.
‘Where?’ she managed, wanting to ask so much more.
‘Here she is. She’s right here. We have a beautiful little girl and she is perfect!’ Matthew stood up slowly and leant forward.
Jessica peered from beneath her heavy lids. In his arms was a wrapped white bundle, at the centre of which was a small squashed pink face. Jessica smiled, her eyes slowly blinking. My baby! My beautiful, beautiful girl!
‘You did it, clever Jess. You did it! Say hello to your mummy.’
With tears in his eyes, Matthew tipped the blanket forward as Jessica lifted her fingers and clumsily stroked the side of her little girl’s head. She felt warm to the touch. Bethan, Beth… a little girl, my daughter. The sedative once again pulled at her senses and she felt a deep sleep spread from her core and along her limbs until she had no choice but to succumb. She felt as if she was falling and did so with a sense of absolute peace, happy in the knowledge that her baby was safe. Her little girl, Bethan, resting safely in the arms of her dad.
The next time she opened her eyes, the fog of confusion had lifted a little. She felt a bit stronger than before, her arms felt less heavy and the raw scratch at the back of her throat had subsided to a dull ache.
‘Ah hello, sleepyhead, how are you feeling?’ The diminutive Indian nurse spoke as she entered the room and reached over Jessica’s head to press a button on an upright machine behind her.
‘Okay. Bit sore.’ Her voice was still croaky. ‘My husband was here…’
‘Yes. He’s popped home to freshen up and your little one is sleeping in the nursery. She is absolutely fine.’
Jessica smiled at the update. ‘I feel horrible,’ she confessed, her words slow and hoarse.
‘You’ve had a Caesarean so you’re bound to feel a bit tender, and the anaesthetic will make you feel groggy. You’ve had a rough old ride, poor love, but it all turned out okay in the end. They got to you in the nick of time and that’s the main thing, right?’ The nurse smiled, revealing fabulous even white teeth as she smoothed the blanket over Jessica’s legs and reached for the thermometer in its little plastic holder. She popped a cover on it and inserted it into Jessica’s ear, holding it until it beeped. Smiling, satisfied at the reading, she threw the little cone-like cover into the paper bag taped to the side of the bedside cabinet that served as a waste-paper bin and put the thermometer back in its holder.
‘Your temperature is good, which means no infection, but we’ll keep an eye on that. Do you need anything for pain right now?’
Jessica shook her head. ‘I didn’t know I was going to have a Caesarean.’ She swallowed with difficulty. ‘I had a birth plan.’
The nurse chuckled. ‘Oh, birth plans are all well and good until something goes wrong and then they are chucked out the window and it’s a case of doing whatever needs to be done to keep you and baby safe.’
So something went wrong. I don’t remember. Why don’t I remember? ‘But she’s okay now?’ Jessica felt her heart hammer in her chest.
‘Oh, she’s safe and sound. Fed, watered, changed and as I said, sleeping right down the hall.’
Jessica nodded. It felt strange: she had a child that she hadn’t properly met, a little girl who she hadn’t seen born.
The nurse babbled as she filled Jessica’s water jug. ‘I fed her earlier and told her, “Lilly, your mum is going to be as pleased as punch when she sees you…”’
‘Lilly?’ Jessica shook her head slightly. Maybe the nurse had got the babies muddled. ‘It’s Bethan.’ She was confused.
‘Oh.’ The nurse looked embarrassed. ‘Well, I’ll leave that for you and Dad to sort out. He seemed quite keen on Lilly, but you can always change it, of course.’
Lilly? That’s not what we agreed.
‘How long ago did I have her?’ Jessica had lost all sense of time.
‘Ah, well, let me see…’ The nurse consulted the little fob watch that hung upside down on her tunic. ‘She is fifteen hours old.’
Fifteen hours… I was supposed to feed her. Jessica cupped her right breast, which felt as it always did. ‘When can I feed her?’
‘There’s plenty of time for that. Her blood sugar was a bit low and she was hungry after her little adventure so she’s had a few bottles of formula, but you can pick up right where you would be when you’re ready. Okay?’
Jessica nodded. Okay. ‘Can I go back to sleep now?’ It was as if she had suddenly hit a new wall of tiredness.
‘Of course! That’s the best thing for you. Don’t worry about Lilly, she’s fine, and if she wakes up, I promise to bring her in. I’ll just pull the door to and if you need anything at all, shout or pull the red cord over your head and we’ll be straight in.’
‘Thank you,’ Jessica mumbled as she slid gingerly down the mattress, aware of the fresh wound across her abdomen. Her name is Bethan. Beth.
It was two hours later that Jessica was woken by the sound of the door opening.
‘Good morning!’ Matthew whispered as he wheeled in the plastic bassinet in which slept their daughter.
Jessica sat up as best she could and pushed her greasy locks behind her ears. ‘Matt.’ Her tears came quickly.
‘Don’t cry, darling. It’s all going to be okay.’ Matthew leant over the bed and cradled her awkwardly, not wanting to hurt her.
Jessica sniffed at her tears and closed her eyes, swallowing to try and alleviate the sting at the back of her nose.
‘I’m sorry…’
‘You don’t have to say sorry. You’ve been amazing, Jess. I’m so proud of you.’
‘I can’t wait to hold her.’
‘They are bringing her formula through in a second and then you can hold her and feed her, how about that?’ he whispered.
Jessica nodded, staring at the fuzz of dark hair that poked from the top of the blanket in the bassinet. Relieved that she wasn’t going to have to attempt breastfeeding, not just yet.
‘She was going to be Bethan,’ Jessica managed through her distress.
‘Oh, I know, honey, but when I saw her, she was obviously a Lilly. She is Lilly! I didn’t mean to go ahead and name her without you, it just kind of happened. I spoke to her and I said, “Hey there, Lilly!” And that was it. It stuck. The nurse then called her Lilly and then when I spoke to your parents, I said, “Lilly is here!” And that was that.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘Lilly is a beautiful name and I knew it was in your top three.’ He sighed. ‘Don’t get upset, Jess; try not to think about anything. You’ve been through the mill. You both have.’ He glanced at the little girl sound asleep beside them. ‘But we have to put it all behind us and carry on. We are going to be an awesome little family and I am so grateful to have you both. I thought I might lose you.’ Matthew exhaled as though limbering up and she noticed for the first time the dark, bruised hollows beneath his eyes. He caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, carefully avoiding the cannula.
‘What happened to me?’ Jessica sniffed her tears back down her throat.
Matthew shook his head and perched on the side of the bed. Jessica winced and tensed in anticipation of him coming too close to her tummy, which was very, very sore.
‘After your contractions slowed, I thought things were going great. We were having a laugh in the delivery suite and then suddenly you were in terrible pain…’ He closed his eyes at the memory.
‘I
remember that.’
‘I didn’t know what to do. I was shit scared, Jess. Totally shit scared. It was the worst moment of my life. I went to get help, I was only gone for seconds, literally, and when I came back into the room with the doctor, you were slumped, unconscious. It was awful. Things happened very quickly and the team here was marvellous. They shoved me out of the room – I asked to stay with you, but they wouldn’t let me. They got you ready for theatre and wheeled you away. I just sat in the corridor and waited while they gave you a Caesarean. The longest hours of my life.’
Jessica nodded. That much she knew – as if the throb of the cut across her stomach wasn’t proof enough.
‘Your placenta ruptured, Lilly’s heart rate dropped and she wasn’t getting as much oxygen as she needed. And you were bleeding. Bleeding a lot…’ He wiped his hand over his eyes and face as though trying to erase the image. ‘It was all one God-awful panic. I don’t want to go through that again, ever.’
‘Oh God, Matt,’ Jessica sobbed. The whole thing could not have been further from the dewy-eyed bonding experience she had envisaged. She felt confused. It was as if Matthew was talking about someone else, like waking up after a drunken night and having no knowledge of how she had arrived at a particular place or what she had done to get there. It was scary and disorientating. ‘I don’t like it, Matt.’
‘I understand that, Jess. But it’s all okay now and that’s the main thing.’ He used his authoritative tone. ‘Your mum and dad have been worried sick. I spoke to them this morning and told them everything was good now.’
The sound of gentle mewling came from the crib. Matthew, as if programmed, hopped down off the bed and gathered their tiny daughter into his hands. ‘Here she is and she is very keen to meet her mum!’ Raising her gently and naturally as though he had been handling delicate newborns all his life, he supported her head and placed her in the crook of his wife’s arm.
‘She’s tiny,’ Jessica observed as she peeled back the blanket and studied her daughter in the pale pink onesie that Matthew’s mother had bought. It swamped her. The sleeves were delicately rolled over her minute wrists and a surplus of material hung over her feet and pouched around her tummy. The first thing Jessica noticed was how light she felt against her arm, more like a little bag of bones than a real person. Then she took in the covering of thick, dark hair that stood up on her head as if it had been styled. Her tiny bunched fists darted about in front of her face, batting at some unseen object and her legs kicked and curled inside the terry-towelling suit. Her nose was a little flat and her eyes were tightly shut. Her fingernails were so tiny, and they were already a little too long.
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