The pain is getting stronger and I know deep down that there’s something wrong and I have to go to the hospital. It’s almost 3:00 a.m., Jess will be asleep, and the doctors are closed. I’m so scared.
I call a cab and go to A&E, and as I’m sitting in casualty, thoughts run through my mind; am I dying? Is there something terribly wrong with me?
Thankfully the triage nurse calls me in within ten minutes of me entering the hospital. I don’t know the last time I was here. Must be when Jess gave birth to Emme. She was only sixteen, scared, alone, and I was all she had.
“Hi, Ms. Wiley, can you tell me what’s wrong?” the triage nurse asks and I’m wondering why the hell the receptionist even bothers to ask what’s wrong with you when you come in?
“I woke up with severe cramps and pains in my stomach. I’m bleeding and it looks like clots are coming out.” I rush through saying it, hoping that she may know what’s wrong with me so I don’t have to be here any longer.
“Okay, Ms Wiley, when was your last period?” she asks and I think back to the last time I had one…. The week before James and I were together.
I can feel the colour drain from my face. “I think it was nine weeks ago.” It’s just above a whisper and I rub my arms as I feel frozen all of a sudden.
The nurse places her hand on my arm. “Let’s get you set up in the EPU.” She helps me to my feet and helps me walk to the wheelchair, I’m wheeled to the early pregnancy unit and dread fills me, this can’t be real.
The nurse helps me sit on the bed. “The doctor will be along in a few seconds.” She leaves the room and I can hear her talking. I try and listen to what she’s saying as it’s taking my mind off what’s happening to me as I double over in pain again.
“Hi, Ms Wiley, I’m Dr Grants, I’m going to do a test and we can go from there okay?” I meekly nod, not sure what to say. What can I say? The doctor takes my blood, thankfully she doesn’t mess about and it doesn’t hurt. “I’m going to send this straight to the lab and have them put a rush on it.” She leaves the room and I’m relieved that I won’t be here all night, but when she quickly returns I get worried, especially when she shows me the wee sample container. “Ms Wiley, I’m going to get you to give me a sample of your urine, please.”
“Okay.” I get up off the bed and as I do I see that I’ve bled through, my face heats up. “Sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t apologise.” She gives me a soft smile, one that I’m unable to return. Pain hits me yet again and I have to grab hold of the bed rail to stop myself from falling. The doctor helps me to the toilet, it doesn’t take me long to fill the sample, but it takes me a while to get off the toilet as every time I tried to move pain hit me hard and fast.
I finally make it out and hand the doctor the sample and instead of the normal yellowish tint, it’s blood red. She leaves the room again and the wait for her to come back feels like an eternity. “Ms Wiley, I’m just waiting on the results of your blood test, they shouldn’t be too long.” She walks out leaving me staring at the bare walls, the dirty blue curtains that are meant to give you some semblance to privacy. When in fact they do fuck all.
It’s forty minutes later when Dr Grants returns. “Ms Wiley, I’m so sorry. You’re experiencing early stages of a miscarriage.” Her tone full of sympathy, her eyes hold a sadness that tells me she’s been through this herself. “I had to wait for the blood test to make sure it wasn’t an ectopic. You have what we would consider normal HCG levels for what you are going through. If it were higher I would be concerned.”
“What…” I cough trying to clear my throat. “What happens now?” I’m numb, I have no idea what is going on.
“You go home and rest, take it easy.” It’s so clinical and I hate it.
“But what happens now?” I need to know, go home and rest isn’t an answer.
She coughs as she sits down on the edge of the bed beside me. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing you can do, you can take painkillers to help with the pain. I’m sorry. Is there anyone I can call for you?”
Is there? Not really, I suppose I could call Pen but I don’t want to. “No, thank you...” She gives me another sad smile and leaves me alone again. I call a cab and he tells me he’ll be outside in ten minutes. I just want to go home, be alone and forget that the world even exists.
The doctor comes back. “This is a prescription for pain medication.” She hands me the script. “Take them, Ms Wiley, you’ll need them. Here are some leaflets, I know right now they’re useless but in time they may help. Also, follow up with your doctor in about a week.” She hands me a bunch of leaflets and I can't even look at them. She also hands me disposable knickers and I’m grateful. I change and put three pads on, not wanting to ruin the cab when I get it. The pain is so severe that I want to cry, but I’m so numb that I can’t, I don’t know what the hell is happening. How did I get to this point? How did I not know I was pregnant?
Getting into the cab, these thoughts are all that plague me. I stare out the window not wanting to talk, thankfully the cab driver understands, he must be used to people not wanting to chat as he turns the radio up and drives. It doesn’t take long to get home, as soon as he pulls up outside I hand him the money and rush into the house.
Putting on the shower, I strip out of my clothes and jump in; the hot water is scalding but feels so good. I’m in shock right now. I feel numb inside, and I feel as though a part of me has died. I stay under the water until my legs feel weak.
Drying off, I get dressed into my onesie. Turning on the television, I curl up on the sofa and stare aimlessly at the television.
Chapter Three
My phone ringing makes me get up from the sofa, I haven’t moved all night; I look at the clock and see that it’s eight o’clock in the morning. I ignore the call and make my way to the toilet, I don’t look in the bowl, I can’t bear to see the blood. That my baby maybe in there. The phone is ringing constantly as I’m in here. I can’t face anyone right now, I don’t know if I ever can. I cried all night and I still don’t think it’s properly hit me as to what has happened.
The pain is still there, and even though it’s a dull pain, it’s still unbearable. I take two of the ibuprofen I have here, it’ll take a while to work but it’s better than nothing. Walking into my bedroom I come to a stop as I look over at the blood-stained bed. Pain and heartache hit me and I crumble to the floor in a heap, tears fall and I struggle to breathe as every emotion hits me full force.
Why did this happen to me? I try to think back to the past nine weeks, what did I do to cause this? I have been drinking…. God, that’s why? I drank and I killed my baby. I’m so stupid. How could I be so stupid? I should have known I was pregnant. This is entirely my fault. I’m so selfish! I sob, until I can’t sob anymore. I don’t think I’m going to survive, how do you survive knowing that you’re the reason your baby is dead?
I don’t know how long I lie on the floor crying but I do know that when I came into my room it was bright outside and now all I see is darkness. I strip the bedclothes off and flip the mattress, not wanting to see the blood stain anymore. I remake the bed with fresh sheets, knowing that they’ll feel soft against my skin.
I crawl into bed and wonder what my baby would have looked like… Would it have been a boy or a girl? Who would he or she have looked like…me or James? Either way my baby would have been so beautiful. My mind spins with dates, if I was nine weeks pregnant that would have meant that the baby would have been born at the end of May. Emme, Jess' daughter, would have been so happy to find out that I was going to have a baby. I should tell Jess, but I can’t bring myself to tell anyone at the moment. I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want them to know how stupid I was for drinking. I don’t want anyone to know that I killed my baby. These thoughts swirl around my head all night until I finally fall into a pitiful, exhausted sleep.
The doorbell ringing wakes me up. Who the hell is it? Looking at my phone I see it’s nine in the morning, I don’t know
what time I fell asleep but I feel like shit. I feel like I could curl up in bed and sleep for eternity. My throat feels as though I’ve swallowed hundreds of nails, my whole body feels weak, and my eyes feel as though they’re drooping from all the tears I’ve cried.
I don’t even look to see who’s at my door. Opening it up, I see Penelope standing there with her arms crossed looking mad as hell. “I don’t have the energy to fight with you, Pen. I’m going back to bed.” My voice is hoarse and my throat hurts when I talk. I turn and leave her standing in the doorway.
I hear the door close and the sound of her heels against my wooden floors. “What the hell happened to you?” she asks coming to stand in my bedroom.
“I’m dying, what does it look like?” I’m not telling her what happened, I can’t even bring myself to think it, let alone say it. I don’t think I can tell anyone, not yet anyway.
“You didn’t answer my calls.” Her eyes narrow at me, like she knows I’m not telling her something.
“I was in bed, I haven’t moved since yesterday.” I’m technically not lying; I went to bed yesterday and only moved when she rang my doorbell.
“Okay, where’s your phone?” I nod my head to the bedside table and again she narrows her eyes. “Next time, answer the call so I don’t have to traipse all the way down here just to see you rotting in bed.” She raises her perfectly thick sculpted eyebrow.
“I’m sorry.” I sigh, feeling bad that I didn’t answer the phone to her. Pen’s been like a mum to me and she deserves better.
“Did you enjoy yourself at the club?” I start to blush at her question. Shit, I forgot about that. “Don’t be embarrassed. There’s nothing wrong with being true to yourself. Now, please for the love of God, stop asking Natalie questions. You’re going to make her run and if that happens you and I’ll have serious words, young lady.”
“What? Pen, what’s going on with her?” I’m actually worried about her now.
“Look, we’ve all been through something in our lives—you lost your mum and, well, Natalie has had it tougher than most.” Pen’s eyes hold so much pain and I know that she’s hurting for Nat. “What I’m about to tell doesn’t leave this room.”
“I promise, what’s wrong?”
“Natalie was molested by her stepfather for years, she ran away the night he raped her. She was fourteen years old. I found her almost a year later; she was selling herself on the street. I tried to get her to come with me but she wouldn’t. I looked for her after that, every day. I hired men to find her but nothing. She was a ghost. That was until I saw her again over six months ago and I knew that I couldn’t let her leave.” Pen’s voice is harsh, distant even. It’s like she’s remembering it, something else has happened and there’s no way that Pen’s going to tell me. I doubt I’ll ever find out.
“Call me when you're feeling better, until then the girls will work your events.” She turns and leaves me to my thoughts.
How can anyone do that to a child? Nat was fourteen when that monster raped her, I can’t even get my head around the fact he was molesting her before that. God knows how long before that. How is she so strong? That girl is something special that’s for sure. She’s not running anymore. She has a family right here for her, me and Pen, we’re all the family she needs. There are six other girls that work for Midnight Lovers but none are as close to Pen as Nat and I are.
I lie in bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. I’m going to get a tattoo, something to have on me to remember my baby. Although I’ll never forget them, I just want something to commemorate he or she. I spend the next hour researching tattoo shops in the area; I want the best one and the one that will make what I want to become a reality.
Nerves engulf me as I sit in the chair, I’ve had to wait a week to get this and I have drawn it about ten times. Each time I cried at the final product. It’s so beautiful and so accurate to how I’m feeling. The numbness is still there and I don’t know if that will ever go. The bleeding has stopped and from what I have read means that my baby is gone. Knowing that it’s gone kills me. I was always hoping that maybe, just maybe the doctor was wrong. Maybe something happened and I was bleeding but the baby was fine? Now I feel empty and I know that it’s true. I’ve lost my mum and I know what losing someone feels like; the pain of losing my baby is a hundred times worse. Knowing that I didn’t know it was there makes it worse; I still think that if I had known I would have looked after myself better. I remember the doctor saying something about my own doctor, but I wasn’t really paying attention. My mind was a mess, I wasn’t even thinking properly as I left the hospital.
I haven’t spoken to anyone in a week, Jess has messaged me a few times and I’ve typed out a reply only to delete it. I thought she’d know something was wrong and I know if Jess nags enough I’ll tell her what’s going on even though I’m not ready to. I’ve texted Pen once since to let her know I’m alive but other than that I’ve kept quiet. Pen replied telling me about James and how he still hasn’t gotten the memo that I’m no longer interested, he’s resorted to calling Midnight Lovers and requesting me and when Penelope tells him I’m unavailable and that he could select one of the other girls he hangs up.
Today was the first time I had left my house since I lost the baby, it was hard watching everyone rush for their buses and talk on their phones. Everyone still getting on with their lives while I’m at a standstill. I visited my mum’s grave asking her to look after my baby, I hope that they both are peaceful up there in heaven. It’s been over four years since my mum died and yet it feels as though it was just yesterday.
Three hours later and he’s done. I stand and look in the mirror; it’s even better than I had imagined. Tears well as I stare at it, the pink and blue heart and the quote are so perfect. It’s under my breast, where my ribs are, and I’m speechless; it’s amazing. The heart is surrounded by the quote; it goes around the heart in a circle. The quote is written in black and stands out, the cursive writing makes it complete. It’s perfect, better than I had imagined.
I never heard you, but I hear you.
I never held you, but I feel you.
I never met you, but I love you.
15/10/2017
“Thank you,” I cry, turning around and giving the artist a hug, I’m so overwhelmed. I never thought it would turn out this amazing. My ribs are going to hurt but I don’t care.
“You’re welcome and I’m sorry for your loss,” he tells me as he hugs me back. I pay up and he gives me after care instructions, I listen carefully making sure that I know what I have to do to make sure it stays perfect.
I decide to walk home rather than take a cab or a bus. It’s a nice day considering we’re at the end of October. The leaves have fallen and everyone has their Halloween decorations up. I used to love this time of year as a child, Mum and Dad bringing me trick-or-treating. That was until Dad ruined everything. When I was sixteen my mum, who was bipolar, found out that my dad had been leading a double life. He had a secret family that he had hidden from us for years. I have a brother who is only six months younger than me.
It crushed Mum finding out that the man she loved was a liar, that he had spent almost two decades hiding the truth from her. When the truth finally did come out, Dad chose his “other” family who live over an hour away. He chose the rich woman and her mansion over my mum and the council flat. Leaving my mum devastated and had me hating him. I went to school the next day and came home to find my mum dead in her bed. She overdosed on sleeping tablets, leaving me all alone and nowhere to go. I’m kind of mad at her for that, I know she had mental health issues and Dad doing what he did didn’t help but she still had me; I would have supported her if I had been given the chance.
The day Mum died was the night I met Penelope, I know it sounds stupid but she really did save me. I had managed to get into a bar, a real seedy one, and I got drunk, pretty quickly actually. There was one guy that was all over me and I was too drunk to fend him off; he was bigger and stronger than me. T
hankfully Pen was there and brought me home with her, she asked me what happened and the truth spilled out. She took me under her wing and gave me a job. I owe Pen more than I could ever repay, she gave me a home, a job, and support. It was something I needed and her support is something I think I’ll always need. She’s like a mum to me, I love her and would do anything for her.
My phone rings and I look down at the caller ID. Great, it's James. I can't be dealing with him today, I hit reject and carry on walking. It doesn't take me long until I get home and as soon as I'm in the door, all the feelings I've been feeling over the past week hit me in full force. I struggle to catch my breath as I think about how I let my baby down; I should have taken better care of the both of us. If I had, things would have been different now. Even though I didn't know about him or her, it doesn't mean that I didn't love the baby, I do, I love the baby so much. Everyday hurts. Getting out of bed knowing that it's another day without my munchkin hurts, it kills me.
Deciding that Jess deserves better than me ignoring her, I decide to send her a text.
Me: Hey, babe, how's Emme?
She doesn't take long to text back and it's probably because she's not long home.
Jess: She's fine, chick, at school now. How are you? xx
Me: I'm okay, babe, we must catch up soon, it feels like forever since I saw you.
The Scandals of Life Page 3