The Meaning of Purple Tulips

by Bláithín O' Reilly Murphy

  I felt a little better. I tried not to think about it that night. I was exhausted after the day and I really wanted to sleep, but it played over and over in my mind. There was nothing I wanted more than my own baby, isn’t this what this had all been about, the perfect home, the perfect husband; all to start the perfect family... now, that might never happen.

  Chapter 27 – Playing with fire

  It can be easy to take something for granted. We all do it. I had taken for granted that when I made the decision; having a child would be natural and easy. I wasn’t naive enough to think it would happen overnight, but I took for granted that if Brandon and I made the decision it was time to start our family that we would have fun for a couple of months trying and then, we would get pregnant. I took it so much for granted that I really hadn’t given it much thought. It was a given as far as I had been concerned. How wrong was I!

  I thought about Chloe and her pregnancy or even her pregnancies. Neither was planned but she and Anthony were so excited. They still weren’t entirely sure as to how it happened again. Anthony put it down to his super sperm. I thought about all the unplanned teenage pregnancies, I thought about all the pregnancies that resulted from rape, I thought about a lot of things that only made me feel worse.

  Brandon and I discussed at length what each option meant to us. We talked about all the options open to us. We talked about everything. Our lives became consumed by ‘what if’ and ‘should we’ and the rest of it. One thing became very clear by the end. We both wanted children. The only snag; I wanted them now and Brandon wanted to wait. I was shocked. When Brandon said he thought we should wait; ‘three years was nothing’ he said. ‘Let’s enjoy our marriage and when we’re a little older start a family’. You could have knocked me over; I was sure, like me, he wanted to have kids straight away under the circumstances. I was sure, now that things had changed, that because it wasn’t a certainty any longer, that he would want to do everything he could to have a child with me.

  I loved him so much that all I wanted to be able to do; was give him a son or daughter. I wanted that for myself too. I wanted to create something so unique, so perfect that could only come from the two of us and it scared me, it scared me so much, how much I wanted it and how I very possibly would never be able to get to have it. I was on an emotional rollercoaster. One minute it was crystal clear what I would do, the next, I was so unsure and I was so very devastated that it didn’t seem as important to him.

  Brandon could be very determined when he wanted to be and right now he did not want to have a baby and he was damn set on bringing me around to his way of thinking. The problem was, he could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. This made it harder for me to come to a decision. Each day I took to come to a decision felt like I was stealing from us, stealing from our potential child’s life, or stealing from the life we could have, if all ‘this’ was behind us. Two weeks passed before I made contact with Dr. Jones again. I phoned him on a Thursday afternoon.

  ‘Hello Dr. Jones, this is Faye Donohue, I met with you 2 weeks ago?’

  ‘Aw yes Faye, how are you?’

  ‘I’m good Doctor, thank you. We’ve come to a decision. Do I need to make an appointment with you to discuss or can we do it over the phone?’

  ‘Well that depends on what you have decided to do.’

  ‘We’ve decided… we’ve decided to try for a baby.’

  ‘Congratulations Faye, I am glad you have made a decision.’

  ‘Em thank you.’ I felt the ‘congratulations’ was somehow hollow or even redundant; I didn’t feel like it belonged there.

  ‘Right well as discussed, I suggest we start you on a 6 month course of Metformin and take it from there. If you like, I can post you out a prescription for the dose, save you coming in here to collect it?’

  ‘Yes, that would be great, if you could.’

  I was relieved at not having to go back to the hospital. Already trying for a baby was too clinical. Besides, how would I explain Brandon’s absence? We still hadn’t reached a decision. Brandon had asked for 6 months to think about it and I thought in the mean time I could try the diabetic medication the Doctor had mentioned, he didn’t seem to think it would work; at least, we would be ready for the next step then when Brandon’s six months were up.

  ‘No problem. Right well, we’ll start you on that and review in 6 months’ time. I’ll pass you back to my secretary now if you would make an appointment to come and see me in 6 months and we’ll see how you are going. In the meantime if you do become pregnant obviously please inform Dr. Greene and myself.’ From his tone, he didn’t seem hopeful that I would become pregnant in the next six months.

  ‘Oh, right. I will. Thanks.’ I was beginning to wonder if I was doing the right thing at all.

  Making the appointment, I hung up. I felt strange, like I had just mail ordered a baby.

  The prescription arrived the following day and I filled it on my way home from work. I was to take 3 tablets a day with meals. I started taking them the following day. Initially, everything was fine, but after a few days I began to feel quite ill. I was nauseous all the time. It came in waves, and though I was never sick; I felt rancid with it. Reading the leaflet that came in the box, it was listed as a side effect. I tried to make the best of it and I was rewarded (if you can call it that) a month later when a familiar dull ache arrived, which was followed a few days later by my period.

  I’d never been so damn happy to see ‘Aunt Flow’ in my damn life. It was probably the first and only period I had ever celebrated. While bleeding meant that I wasn’t pregnant, I took it as a good sign that things were working again and I persevered with the tablets despite the nausea. Hiding it from Brandon was difficult but he didn’t seem to have noticed anything.

  Brandon and I were at it like rabbits, any chance I could, I would ‘jump on him’! I had no cycle to go by and I didn’t know if it would be a long or short cycle so to cover all bases we had sex all the time! Well we were newlyweds so Brandon never gave it a second thought, or at least he never said anything; which was a relief. If he had challenged me on it, I wouldn’t know how to react. If I got pregnant before ‘his’ 6 months were up I would just put it down to a miracle, they do happen – right? I needn’t have worried; nothing happened. No period, no pregnancy and I was still sick as a dog most of the time. Mine and Brandon’s six months were up and the date for my appointment with Dr. Jones loomed. I choose my moment well to talk to Brandon about it. Friday evening, just after his favourite meal and second glass of wine; he was mellow, relaxed but alert enough to make a definite decision – I hoped.

  ‘Brandon, six months are nearly up.’

  ‘Six months? What do you mean?’

  ‘Well you asked for six months to decide on the baby issue, their nearly up, my appointment is next week with the Dr. Jones.’

  ‘Appointment, I didn’t know you had made an appointment?’

  ‘Of course you did, I made it when you asked for the six months; I had to say something to the Doctor.’ A small white lie, Brandon hadn’t known about the appointment, but that didn’t really matter.

  ‘Oh right...’ Silence… ‘God Faye, I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.’

  Anger boiled to the surface, he hadn’t thought about it, how could he not think about it! It was all I had thought about. Anger wouldn’t help right now, if I got angry or upset the conversation would be lost; I had to stay calm, at all costs.

  ‘You haven’t? At all...?’

  I let the end of the sentence trail off, to show I was upset by this but that I was staying calm. He straightened himself up, not expecting such a calm response.

  ‘What I mean is Faye... of course I have thought about it... I just haven’t come to a decision.’

  ‘Isn’t it a decision we should come to together?’

  I felt like a traitor saying this; knowing what I had been doing for the past six months and the fact that I was still going to continue with the appo
intments without Brandon if he refused to come..

  ‘Of course...’ Brandon faltered, not quite sure where this was all headed. ‘Em...’

  I waited, it killed me. I wanted to scream and shout; I had been shocked when he had asked for six months, bowled over. But I was sure in agreeing to it that when the months were up, he would say yes. In fact, it would be him making the appointment; I feared I was wrong, very wrong indeed.

  ‘Faye, it’s just I am not sure it is the right time for us; we’re still young, plenty of time.’

  ‘We are young, youth is what is on our side and normally, yes we would have plenty of time, but we don’t or at least I don’t.’

  ‘I’m not exactly settled in my career yet, I’m not sure if it’s such a secure time. Besides, at some point, I would like to look at going back to New York, perhaps try the CNN internship again, if they would take me back after resigning.’

  I knew he would pull out this big gun. Show me what he had given up for me.

  ‘I definitely think you should try that and we’ll all move there, as a family. Just because we have kids doesn’t mean we still can’t do the things we want; life doesn’t just end.’

  ‘Kids are costly, not to mention what IVF might cost.’

  ‘That’s true, IVF and kids won’t come cheap but we’re both earning good money and we don’t have a huge mortgage, we could sell your apartment too; if it came to that.’

  He stayed quiet, the cogs in his brain turning.

  ‘Brandon, do you not want to have children with me?’

  I feared his answer the most; because right now, I couldn’t honestly say what his answer would be and whatever his mouth spoke I wondered would that actually be the truth.

  ‘Of course I do, I just want to be sure it’s the right time.’

  ‘When would be a right time, in your eyes?’

  He says nothing for what seems like hours, staying quiet takes every ounce of strength in me. His phone starts to buzz in his pocket. He reaches for it. My eyes bore into his head as he looks at the screen. He pales.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Eh, no one.’

  ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong.’

  ‘What aren’t you answering it?’

  He takes a moment too long to reply.

  ‘Cause we’re having a serious conversation here, trying to decide our future. This call can wait.’

  ‘Are you sure, you look like you’re about to be sick?’

  ‘I’m fine. Just hoping what I am about to say next is the right move for us.’

  ‘What are you going to say?’

  ‘Well… an appointment can’t hurt, to see what’s involved.’ I looked across the table at him, not sure that he actually said it. He smiles broadly. ‘Let’s have a baby now.’

  Perhaps I should have been more sceptical but I leapt up and smothered him in kisses.

  ‘Are you sure, you’re really sure?’

  ‘Yes, but Faye, you know it could take a while. Please don’t be too upset if it doesn’t happen straight away.’

  ‘I won’t, I won’t!!’ I knew that was a promise I probably shouldn’t be making, but right now I was too happy to think straight.

  Sitting in Dr. Jones’s office a week later, I was relieved that I had decided to undertake the 6 months course of metformin ‘under the radar’, so to speak; now things could really get started, or at least that’s what I thought.

  ‘Faye, at this point I am going to suggest that you see Dr. Fraser, he is based here at the Clinic, and he is a Gynaecologist and a Fertility Doctor. He will be better placed to continue with appropriate courses of action than I.’

  Dr. Jones seemed almost relieved to be able to pass me on; I on the other hand, was frustrated that nothing more than a referral was going to come out our brief meeting. I made an appointment to see Dr. Fraser and like Dr. Jones before him, he too had a waiting list and so I waited for the appointment to come around.

  Seven weeks later with my legs in stirrups and his finger in my vagina; I tried to make small talk with the good Doctor as he asked me if I had any trouble parking, while he examined me. Finishing up, he invited me to get dressed and take a seat.

  ‘Faye, I’ve had a look through your file here. I see that you had one successful period on the course of Metformin in the first month and nothing since?’ he said looking right at me.

  ‘Yes that is correct.’ Thinking, why on earth do Doctors ask you to confirm everything?

  ‘Right, well I’ve taken some samples there and will send them off to be tested as well, I doubt they will throw up anything we don’t already know. In the meantime Faye, what you really need to do before we move any further is to lose some weight.’ He spoke very matter-of-factly.

  I was so taken aback by that. No one in my whole life had ever told me I needed to lose weight before.

  ‘I would suggest you aim to lose 2 stone, preferably within the next 6 months. After which I think you should seriously consider IVF as an option. Right now, it would be too dangerous to consider because of your current weight. The risks are too high, especially if it were to be with twins, which can happen.’

  I sat and stared at him. Lose weight. Another six months. Twins! My head was spinning again. I left his office, having made another appointment for six months’ time. I got home and I was deflated. Another six months of waiting. That would be over a year since we started. I felt crushed, destroyed and fat… I started crying. No, I started bawling.

  Chapter 28 – Premature Labour

  Losing weight is not easy. And I know there are those out there who will say; of course it’s not, if you have an attitude like that! But it’s not easy if you lack motivation and will power, which I did, in bucket loads. Logically you think, eat less, eat healthy, exercise more – bob’s your uncle! Sounds so easy – reality – I crave all the wrong foods, have an inherent dislike like of exercise and am plain lazy! I also had a huge mental block to the whole lose weight, get pregnant and put weight all back on again thing. Needless to say, I became very depressed about everything, about being fat, reproductively challenged, hairy and the emotional rollercoaster that came with it all. I went back to Dr. Greene to see if there was anything she could give me to help.

  ‘Faye, I understand where you are coming from but I don’t want to prescribe anti-depressants. It can be a slippery slope from there, once you start. That and they are also renowned for putting on weight.’ She was sympathetic. ‘Why don’t you consider speaking to someone Faye, about what you are going through, it might help? We have an excellent Councillor Onsite, here at the surgery who works Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ She said handing me a card.

  ‘Oh right, thanks.’ I said taking her card, slightly surprised at her suggestion. It’s something I hadn’t thought about, but it might actually help. I thought about it on the way home. Would therapy help? I spoke to Brandon about it when he got home that evening.

  ‘Faye, whatever will help you. You know I just want you to be ok.’ I could see he thought it was a good idea but was afraid to push it.

  ‘I know.’ Lately he had taken to biting his tongue a lot which was annoying me.

  ‘C’mere to me. I know this is hard on you. But I’m here if you need to talk.’ He mistook my mild irritation for uncertainty.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘It’s just lately you tell me what you think I want to hear and not what’s really on your mind or what I really need to hear!’ is what I said to myself silently.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  I looked at him. I did want to talk about it, but did he really want to talk to me?

  The high shrill of my phone interrupted him. I glanced at the clock on the bedside table it was 12.45am.

  ‘It’s very late for someone to be ringing.’

  I picked up my phoned, Anthony’s name flashed on the screen.

  ‘Hello Anthony, is everything ok?’

  ‘Faye
, hi, sorry to call so late, it’s just, well Chloe has gone into labour, could you come to the hospital. Please, she is asking for you.’

  ‘But she isn’t due for another 6 weeks!’

  ‘I know.’ He sounded grave. ‘Can you come?’

  ‘Of course, I’ll leave now.’

  I hung up and sprung out of bed.

  ‘I’m sorry Brandon, I know you were about to say something, but Chloe’s gone into labour and asking for me. Can we talk about this later?’

  ‘Sure, do you want me to come with you?’

  ‘No, you're grand, you’ve work tomorrow, I’ll text you to let you know what is going on.’ I’m almost sure I saw relief flood his face.

  ‘Ok, drive safe.’

  ‘I will.’ And with that I was gone.

  Thoughts filled my mind on the car journey there; were Chloe and her Baby going to be ok? Why did Anthony sound so grave on the phone? I arrived at the hospital and was surprised to see Chloe’s mother there in the waiting room.

  ‘Faye, oh thank god you’re here.’

  ‘What’s happened, what’s going on Mrs. Jenner?’

  She blushed, a deep plum. ‘I’m afraid it’s my fault. Well I got such a shock. I went around to see her, well to apologise, to make up. Families shouldn’t fight, especially when there are young kids involved. Well I thought, I had the wrong house, a strange woman answered, I was leaving and when I turned I saw Chloe in the window, I pushed passed the girl, I think I might have knocked her to the ground; it was the shock, of seeing Chloe, of seeing her pregnant, again! I’m afraid I shouted at her. At Chloe, well the shock, of me, of what I said – her waters broke. I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean for this. Oh god. I’m so sorry.’

  She buried her face in her hands and collapsed into a chair. Anthony walked down the corridor then, Ella in his arms.

  ‘Auntie ‘aye, auntie ‘aye’ her little pudgy arms outstretched to me, I enveloped her in a hug and drunk in her sweet baby smell.