Page 76 of Because of Her

My vision blurs from the unexpected tears that form in the corners of my eyes, and I squeeze Madison’s hand with a joyous force.

“Madison is that—?”

“Yeah.” I can see all of her teeth through her smile. “That’s our little girl.”

A warmth spreads through me as my heart swells until it feels too big for my chest. Glancing at the monitor near Madison’s feet, I can see the tiny outline of her baby. It doesn’tlook like a bundle of cells the way I imagine her first ultrasound picture did. It looks like a baby. I can see two legs and tiny hands bunched up around a pint sized face. Her mouth is opening and closing, and I faintly register the technician saying something about her swallowing being a good sign.

For the rest of the appointment I sit in wonder as the technician measures limbs, registers blood flow, and tracks movement. I’m the ideal support partner; taking notes as the technician explains that everything looks normal, and the midwife will go over the results in the appointment they scheduled for tomorrow. He tells her that sometimes women can have spotting through pregnancy, but that it was good Madison came in yesterday, just in case.

Madison wipes gel off her stomach and rolls herself off the bed. My incompetent uterus scratches at my insides. I rub against it and consider if I blew my chances at ever having a family. Again.

I was so caught up on doing what Madison is doing, on the conceiving and the being pregnant. Once again I lost sight of what really matters with the whole thing. It’s the child. And sure, Madison’s child is growing inside her, and that’s a beautiful thing, but I know it’s not the only way. I’ve known all along. I just kept forgetting.

The past month flashes in my mind. Dancing with Maisie, helping her point her toes and keep her balance. The way I held her hand to help her keep her balance, and always stood where I could catch her if she fell. How perfect it felt when we sat on the couch after to catch our breath. How comfortable it felt in Callum’s arms, and how I didn’t want to leave but felt like Ishould. And how I now wonder if I should have stayed instead.

If Callum, and Maisie, is exactly what I want. What I need.

The winter breeze is cool, but it doesn’t stop us from sitting to eat our ice cream from the booth near the park.

“I think I made a mistake,” I admit once I reach the cone.

“Hmm?”

“With Blake, maybe?” I admit.

I slouch back into the park bench and tilt my head up to where the sun fights to be seen through the clouds.

“I was so busy trying to get pregnant, I lost sight of the end goal.” It feels cathartic, finally acknowledging and talking and processing my truth, so I keep going, letting all the words flow out.

“He wanted to foster, to look at adoption,” I continue, “but I wasn’t interested. That’s why we broke up. For so long, I believed it was because I couldn’t give him a baby, but with everything now, I can see that’s not true. We broke up because I gave up on our dream of having a family.”

“That’s …” Madison pauses to take a bite from her cone. For a beat the only sound between us is the crunch as she chews the waffle, barely audible over the magpies warbling and children laughing.

“Rough?” she finishes after she swallows. Looking at me with a raised eyebrow, she bumps my leg with her knee. “You didn’t figure that out with all the therapy you went to?”

“I think for therapy to work, you have to be honest with yourself. And I wasn’t.”

“Okay, so what now?”

I shove the final pointy end of my ice cream into my mouth and drop my head into my hands. “I wish I knew.”

I don’t want my life with Blake back, I know that much. Because no matter how much I tried to fight it, nomatter how much I pushed away, I love Callum. And now I’m scared it’s too late for me to finally realise that.

Madison pushes herself to stand and I follow her up. As we start to stroll around the gardens, past all the families, my mind shifts back to the days I spent with Callum and his daughter. At the ballet exhibit it was the first, the only time I’d ever felt like maybe I could fit in as a mother. At the park when she hurt herself, I knew she needed her mum, but I was there to help in every way I could until Audrey got to the hospital. Maybe my place as a parent doesn’t have to be the mother.

I must have stopped walking in my trance. My eyes are wet behind my sunglasses when I notice Madison has stopped, metres in front of me, to turn back.

“Cassidy,” she calls out. Caution laces her voice and she takes slow steps back towards me.

I try to speak, but the words get stuck in my throat. My sister guides me to the closest bench. Two teenage looking girls side eye us as I collapse onto the seat next to them.

Madison coughs, making a show of her belly as she stares down at them. They look to each other, sharing a grouched expression before returning their gazes to their phones, giggling.

“Move.” Madison’s voice holds so much authority I scoot over. The girls jump up to walk away, their arms linked together, heads still down in their phones.

When she sits next to me, I feel Madison’s warmth spreading from where our shoulders touch.

“Callum?” she asks, and all I can do is nod.

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