The Last Mate on Earth

Part 1 - Chapter 19

* * * Hope’s POV * * *

My step is lighter, yet more determined, on the stairs leading up to my room after dinner. For days I’ve had this heaviness hanging over me, but sending parent Hannah off today and being able to thank her has left me less encumbered with guilt and sadness.

Hope begins to regrow. The questions that have formed over the last few days invigorate me into moving forward. As does Hayden. I’ve become increasingly aware of how much I value that friendship and enjoy being with him.

The knowledge that he is Director Philips son hasn’t drifted far from my mind, so I want to start figuring out what is going on in this building. It’s because I’m feeling like this that I go to my bed and reach beneath my pillow. I pull out my mother’s notebook, my fingertips stroking the front cover. Opening the page, I reread the first entry, then turned to the next.

I’ve been here before. Not with a girl, but with a boy. Eight boys, in fact. I’m sad to say that each of your brothers died in utero. I birthed them all and wept while I held their frail bodies in my arms before they were taken from me. I was so heartbroken. The grief overwhelmed me. I’d failed at being a mother even though I never got to do the things that mothers should, like changing nappies, worrying over when to give solid food or hearing my children tell me they loved me. Instead, I got nothing but a dispiriting loss. Our dream of having children began to appear impossible, even though no one could tell your father and me what was happening and why we were having to say goodbye to those tiny souls so prematurely. We gave up hope. We couldn’t risk the same thing happening again and again. My body was considered useless, so my doctor and the team at the hospital wrote me off, like an old car with a faulty engine. We said we were happy not to try again, to leave it there. I couldn’t face another goodbye. I couldn’t face another midwife giving me ‘that look’ at yet another routine scan. I couldn’t bear to go through another fruitless labour. I felt weak, unhappy and empty. I had to let go of that dream. It wasn’t easy, but once the decision was made, I felt relieved not to be consumed with longing. Your father and I fell deeper in love, something I’d never thought possible. He loved me in spite of my flaws and failings. He loved ME. We’ve been happy. Really, so very, very happy. A month ago I went to the doctor. I was constantly bloated, my breasts were hurting, I was having regular mood swings and was often a little nauseous. A lot of my girlfriends have been going through ‘the change’ so I’d been putting it all down to that, but I was worried it was something more and wanted to know for certain. I laughed so hard when the doctor handed me a pregnancy test – your dad said he heard me from the waiting room. I dutifully peed and headed back to the doctor without waiting for the result. I even handed it to her with an air of ‘This is ridiculous.’ I didn’t expect her to say ‘Yes, just as I thought,’ and send me off to be scanned, but that was exactly what happened. In that moment, I felt fearful and anxious as I collected your father and went to the specialist. Pregnant again. I cried. Your father did too. We were in shock. Then, within seconds, we were laughing in each other’s arms, unable to believe this had happened when we hadn’t planned it. It felt like a gift. I held my breath as the technician glided her ultrasound stick over my skin while looking at the screen in front of her. I know I was preparing myself for the worst, because that was what I knew from past experience – all hope and joy eradicated when she muttered the inevitable ‘I’m sorry.’ But the stick kept moving and she kept clicking away at the keypad, locking in numbers and measurements. The gasp was almost comical. ‘I’ll be right back,’ she said, all fingers and thumbs, the stick wobbling out of her hand and landing on the floor. Your father and I looked at each other in confusion. It didn’t feel like she was about to tell me my baby had died. It felt special. And it was. Five minutes later, four other members of staff entered the room and watched the technician repeat the scan. ‘See?’ she said, looking up at them. They all turned to me and your father. Their expressions were priceless. Honestly, I’ll never forget those gaping jaws. Eventually, Rita stepped forward and introduced herself, then said something along the lines of ‘Rather remarkably, Mrs Turner, you’re expecting a girl!’ Your dad nearly fainted on the spot, but I just cried. Let’s blame the hormones. Instead of sending us home, they asked us to stay in for a few days so I could be monitored properly. Given my history and the fact I’m having a geriatric pregnancy (geri-bloody-atric), I said yes without the slightest hesitation. That was a month ago and I haven’t left since. They haven’t forced me. In fact, it was me who said I wouldn’t mind having regular scans and being taken care of. Plus, it’s gone crazy outside. Your dad tried to go home one day to grab some things, but there were floods of people downstairs wanting to talk to him, all asking questions about me and you. The world’s gone nuts. I think we’re happy here. It’s safe, and Rita’s been a great help in dealing with everything so that we don’t have to. So here we are. It’s my ninth pregnancy. I’ve been here before, but this time it feels completely different. It is completely different. I can’t believe I’m six months pregnant with a girl. I hope this is the start of things changing out there so that you can have a happy and fulfilled future. I love you so much already, and am doing all I possibly can to get you here safely.

Love, Your Mumma Xx

It’s a story I’ve heard before, but it’s so much better reading my mum’s account of it. It’s heart-breaking yet funny. I wonder if this is how she’d have shared the account every birthday if she were still here.

Would she still go on about not having a clue she was expecting me and make me laugh by reenacting the sonographer’s shocked reaction? And would she bridge the gap between parent Rita and me?

Mum seems to have been glad of her support, even welcoming it. She didn’t seem bogged down with the pressure of what was expected of her. Instead she sounds like a mother excitedly awaiting the birth of her baby.

Another baby she would never watch growing up as she had dreamt of doing. I closed the book.

That’s enough for now.