“You’re Five to Six Weeks Pregnant,” Announced the Doctor as She Dropped Her Instrument into the Tray and Pulled Off Her Rubber Gloves… ⚘

“Pregnancy, about five or six weeks,” the doctor said, dropping her instrument into the tray and pulling off her latex gloves.
“Are you planning to keep the baby?”
I kept quiet, lost in thought. Forty-two years old, expecting my fourth childa child I hadnt planned for, nor did I particularly want. Wages were tight; we barely scraped by, counting the days until next payday.
The older two were still at college, and the youngest, Lily, was about to start school. Shed need a new pinafore, a blouse, and of course, a brand-new backpacknot to mention all the jotters and books. And here we were, presented with this surprise!
“Ill have a word with Tom,” I decided. “See what he makes of it all.”
Over dinner that night, I mustered the words.
“I saw the doctor today,” I said as I passed him the potatoes. “Turns out, Im pregnant. Six weeks along.”
Tom stopped chewing and set down his fork.
“Well, what else can we do?” he said after a pause. “Lets have the baby. Two boys, two girls. Thats the full set.”
“A full set! But how will we manage?”
I laid out all the reasons: the older kids, all their fees and needs, and the endless list of things for Lilyan outlay we could barely stomach as it was. All the while my certainty grew: having another child, at my age and in our situation, seemed madness.
“Ill book the tests for a termination,” I told him.
After all the tests at the clinic, I felt terribly low. I couldnt help but feel sorry for the little one growing inside me. I kept thinkingmaybe its a girl, fair-haired, cheeky and sweet.
On my way to the womens clinic, squashed in a packed tram, I was jostled off at my stop. Then, a sudden shocka strap slipped off my shoulder. Before I realised what had happened, I shouted; the strap was from my handbag. Thieves had sliced it straight off me, snatching my handbag, all my cash, and every single one of my test results.
I had no choice but to go home. Some of the tests had to be redone, others could be salvaged.
The second time, getting off the bus, I fell badly and injured my leg.
“Go a third time and Ill break my neck, no doubt,” I thought, half-dreading. And just like that, I made up my mind: the baby would be born. Suddenly, I felt at peace.
The pregnancy went smoothly, and I found out I was having a girl. But then, at the twenty-week scan, lightning struckthe doctor suspected Downs syndrome.
“Youll need to have an amniocentesis,” she said briskly, filling in the paperwork. “But I should warn you: its not risk-free. Theres a small chance it could cause a miscarriage or infection.”
I took a breath and agreed to the test.
On the day, Tom and I went together to the clinic. He waited in the corridor while I walked in on shaking legs. The doctor listened to my babys heartbeatit was racing.
“Well wait a bit,” she said. “Lets administer some magnesium first.”
Afterwards, I was told to sit in the corridor and calm down.
Some time passed; they called me in again. The heartbeat had settled, but now the baby had turned her back towards us. They couldnt do the test in that position.
“Lets wait again. Perhaps shell turn around,” the doctor suggested.
The third time, everything was in place. The baby had turned, her heartbeat was steady.
As the nurse prepped my bump, it was a sweltering day and the window was wide open to let in the smallest breeze. Just as she reached for the tray of instruments, a pigeon swooped in through the window. The frightened bird flapped around madly, scattering nurses and sending the metal tray clattering to the floor, instruments everywhere.
Again, I was told to wait in the corridor while they chased out the pigeon and set up new sterile equipment.
Tom was getting anxious.
“Whats all that racket?” he called to me.
“A pigeon flew in and caused a right mess!”
“Emma, that cant be a coincidence. Come on, lets just go home.”
So we left.
In due course, our daughter was born.
Shes ten nowfair-haired, sweet, cheeky…just as I imagined her.
And if Ive learned anything, its that sometimes, despite all the worries and what-ifs, things happen for a reason. Life finds its own wayoften for the better.