Page 85 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
I laugh. Mainly because at least I didn’t have the piles.
‘The way I always see it is that we carry the babies, we grow them inside us, we feel everything when they’re born, likeeverything. But men don’t have that run-up; suddenly, BOOM, this is your baby. You’re a father. Own it. People deal with it in different ways.’
‘Like running away?’
‘Where does Peter live? Battersea? It’s hardly the other end of the world.’
‘And what if I said looking after Joe was too much, what if I wanted my time out and I just walked out on him?’
‘You’d never do that. Which makes you immediately better than Will but then, you are my sister. You’re a good mum. And a good person.’
Oh, Meg. That’s why she crafts words for a living. Would I walk out on this one? I look down at him in my arms, still trying to work out what the deal is with the carrot. Days like this can be a struggle, but it really would suck not to have him around. I pat him on his nappy and realise that it’s possibly full. That’s probably not helping his woes.
‘I have to go and change this one. Thanks for the carrot advice.’
‘It’s all I’m good for really. Love you, B.’
I hang up, imagining if Meg had been at that party a few weeks back. She’d have chased Will down the street and dragged him back by his collar, made us get over ourselves – and then probably slapped some sense into the sisters in the kitchen too.
I lay Joe down on the change mat I have permanently parked next to the sofa, opening up his nappy, and study his sad baby eyes.You’re hurting, aren’t you, bubs? You’re growing teeth. Next it will be puberty. Then you’ll move out and I’ll only see you when you want loans or Sunday lunch. Maybe a shallow bath might help instead. I clean him up and hook him over my arm. Filling the bath, I dunk him in. Is this the right thing to do? Who knows anymore? Just don’t pee in there, please. My phone suddenly starts vibrating on the floor so I scoop Joe out with a towel and answer it by placing the handset under my chin.
‘Hello?’
‘Beth?’
I pause for a moment to work out whose voice that is on the end of the line. ‘Yasmin?’
This is a surprise. Why is she calling me? Shit, should I be at a shoot or something?
‘Are you busy?’ she asks.
I’m not sure how to answer. I’m about to baste my son’s baby butt in cream and scramble to get a nappy on him but apart from that…
‘I’m just with Joe.’
The sound which greets us next is a breathless sobbing, like she can’t quite catch her words.
‘Are you OK?’ I ask.
‘I’m just…I’m bleeding. I don’t know anyone else with a baby. I don’t think this should be happening.’
I stand here, silent. Mainly in shock that she’s called me but also sad that out of what I assume to be a large circle of friends and family, I am her first port of call. How scared and desperate must you be to call someone you hardly know when you’re hurting?
‘Are you cramping?’ I ask her. ‘Is there pain? I’m not a doctor and but I can call my sister?’
‘Don’t do that,’ she says abruptly. ‘I have an appointment lined up with the antenatal clinic in an hour. I just can’t do this…what if…’
As strange as it feels, I think I know what she’s hinting at.What if I’ve lost a baby and I’m just sitting there, having to cope with that information on my own?I would never have coped. And I had sisters, my mother. There was Will.
‘Tell me what hospital and we’ll meet you there.’
‘Everything is fine. Can you hear the heartbeat? Healthy baby.’
A kindly sonographer and a midwife have a Doppler over Yasmin’s stomach as she lies back on the bed, the echo of the heartbeat skipping in time with the clock in the room. I’ve not been in a hospital since Joe was born so it’s bizarre to be back. The crackle of the paper sheets draws me back to my first scan. Will cried when he saw what he thought was the baby. Turns out it was just a random part of my innards. But he squeezed my hand so tight, inhaled sharply to hear we were having a boy. We still have that scan on the fridge.
‘All looks good to me. The baby is well. How is your morning sickness?’ asks the midwife.
‘Pretty bad. And not just confined to the mornings,’ replies Yasmin.
