Unprecedented

May decides that at thirty five years old time is running short to have a baby, she uses a donor to get pregnant but then finds herself in the heart of a global pandemic. What could go wrong?

Unprecedented

Unprecedented.

Unprecedented.

The word echoed in her ears. Those five rounded syllables �" seemingly harmless until you processed what they actually meant. It was the only word she had heard for days. At times coming at her from a megaphone blasted directly into the ears and at others like distant echoes rippling across the breeze. But either way, one thing was clear; she was living in unprecedented times.

It was a virus that had started all of this. Spreading like wildfire from the source country, across to Europe and then engulfing the rest of the world. Life had changed �" these were unprecedented times.

But sitting in her quiet little cottage with just the occasional groan of the heating audible and all of the objects she so strongly associated with normal life around her, it was hard to believe that this unseen threat was real. That this malevolent virus rampaging through cities, tearing families apart and bringing whole countries to a complete standstill, was actually going to reach this sleepy little town tucked away in the furthest eastern corner of the country. Ordinarily, she felt she could have coped quite well with total isolation. In many ways, she would have welcomed these ‘unprecedented’ times and measures. Usually she enjoyed her own company �" even longed for it when in the middle of a gathering that she wished to escape or when her busy mind felt the need to find quiet. But these were not normal times for her and the sharp prod beneath the ribs that momentarily took her breath away, reminded her of this.

For she was not alone, not totally. Another being lived inside her, growing stronger every day. Twisting this way and that, poking elbows and feet out of the taut, stretched skin of her stomach. Draining her energy but also fueling it with the promise of what was to come. But this little being that she felt so bonded to already would not be born into a safe world. She did not know what the hospitals would be like by the time she gave birth in just a few weeks. Already there were reports from doctors working on the frontline that there were not enough beds, that people were dying on trolleys in the corridors, that the virus was rife amongst staff and patients. She was almost certain that she would contract the dreaded thing if she gave birth in the hospital but she knew her options were limited.

For the first time, she wished she hadn’t gone through with this. She wished she’d waited longer to use one of those beautiful little embryos created by her and a complete stranger. Her mind wandered briefly as she wondered whether He had contracted the virus, if He was even still alive? So many weren’t. But, she refocused herself, she was thirty five years old and she’d known that time was not on her side. If she wanted her dreams to come true, she’d known that she had to act. So she did. And it worked.

But she could never have predicted the virus.

She could never have predicted these unprecedented times.

 

        **************************************************************************

“So you’re really going to do this?” Giggled Kiera, flushed from a second large sauvignon and thrilled by the novelty of what she was hearing.

“I think so”. Mumbled May, looking down towards the floor and clutching her tonic water harder.

“So you’re serious? You’re going to bring a baby into the world that’s created by you and a total stranger? And you’re going to pay thousands of pounds for the privilege?”

“It’s not that strange, you know. Thousands of people do it every year and if I don’t do it now, I don’t think I’ll ever have children.” May winced at the thought, it was an almost physical pain �" contemplating that.

“I know but isn’t it a bit American? Like something out of a film? I mean, who actually does that?”

“Well those of us who haven’t found The One and haven’t got years left to just sit waiting around for it to happen. I’m going to go �" it was a mistake telling you”. May began to gather up her coat, cheeks red from the flash of anger that she’d felt towards her friend as well as the usual flush that she endured when actually answering someone back, making her voice heard.

“May, I’m sorry, please don’t go. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just can’t imagine it myself that’s all.”

“That’s because you don’t have to Keira �" you’ve been with Mark since you were seventeen and you’ve already got the perfect family. You can’t possibly imagine what life would be like without that. I’m going �" I’ve got things to do anyway.”

“I’m sorry May” she heard behind her as she stepped out into the relative warmth of the spring evening.

Keira’s reaction didn’t surprise her �" that’s why she wasn’t going to tell people and her little test there confirmed her strategy. Best just to keep it to herself. To avoid all opinions on her decisions. She would have to do this totally alone �" she’d started it alone and she’d finish it that way too.

As she wandered through the streets on her way home, she noticed an array of things �" things that constituted normal life. The elderly lady out walking her spaniel, chastising him for an over-reaction at the sight of a labrador; the local Italian opening up for the evening with a waiter arranging the table in the window and polishing the cutlery again, just pausing for a moment to make the briefest of eye contact before continuing on with his mission; the gentle murmur from the bowls green as the players greeted each other happily and prepared for the season ahead, as well as the comforting smell of freshly cut grass coming from behind an immaculate hedge that evoked such memories that she had to stand still for a second to contain the spinning sensation. She smiled. The normality was comforting, she was secure in her memories and despite Keria’s thoughts, she was excited about the future.

She took the next left onto her lane and smiled again, this time at the sight of her cottage: home. She’d worked hard for this home. It was the sort of place she had always wanted to live in and they didn’t come cheap. She couldn’t afford the sort of place that had already had the work done so she’d bought this cottage in its ‘rustic’ state as described in the brochure. In reality �" it was a tip and it’d been a real labour of love over the past ten years to get it to where it was today. But now it stood proud, attractive and much improved. She knew she’d vastly increased the value of the property but there was no way she would contemplate selling it. She believed in it so strongly that she’d even once sacrificed a relationship for it �" David had wanted a modern box �" hadn’t seen the beauty and charm that the cottage had to offer. He wouldn’t do the work required and had pressured her to sell. She had realized then that David wasn’t the one for her �" her true partner would believe in this little cottage as much as she did. David would have provided her with her longed for child though �" had she made a mistake? But no, she was confident in her conviction �" her soul would have been ripped out in a modern box and her heart lost in the move. No, it was the right decision �" it just made the next steps more difficult.

She dug in her bag to find her keys and applied just the right amount of pressure on the latch to ensure the door opened gracefully. In no time she was in her tastefully converted ensuite, enthusiastically digging the small bottle out of the medicine cabinet and dipping her hand into the bag of individually wrapped syringes �" she retrieved one and tore the light plastic wrapping off with her teeth. She then carefully popped the syringe into the neck of the bottle and turned it upside down, pulling down on the plunger until she had measured exactly 50mg with a practiced hand. She held the implement in her mouth whilst she grabbed at the flesh around her middle until she had a handful of excess. In one swift movement she had retrieved the syringe from her mouth, taken the cap off and jabbed it hard into the available flesh of her belly. She gasped slightly as the liquid invaded her body; the sharp stinging reminding her of the significance of the moment. Once the syringe was safely in the sharps box, she retreated to the comforting familiarity of her bedroom and laid down gently.  She hadn’t been entirely honest with Keira, she’d already started the treatment and more than just started it �" she was advanced in the process. Tomorrow she would attend the clinic to see if her body had ‘down-regulated’ effectively enough so that she could start the progesterone treatment to ensure her womb was optimal for receiving the frozen embryo.

May removed a cushion from underneath her in order to get more comfortable. She allowed a hand to trail downwards to the relative flat of her stomach and brushed it against the soft skin, thinking simultaneously of the miracle that could occur there as well as feeling an instinctual yearning for her embryos to be in there now and not in some remote, distant freezer. There was something delicious about this secret �" something only she was a part of that filled her with a deep warmth whenever she thought about it. Her mind wandered once again to Him, did He ever think about it? Was He curious? Did He think about his potential children?

      **************************************************************************

“As in, a brochure?” May giggled slightly, a pinkish tint infusing her cheeks.

“That’s exactly right �" of all of our prospective donors” stated the impassive faced consultant.

“Oh..er..right ok. So, when do I have to choose by?” May received the answer and went home, feeling more than a little foolish, clutching her brochure of donors.

When she later sat on her sofa with an authentic roaring fire in the grate, she began to flick through the bizarre reading material. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but it wasn’t this. There were no photos, just facts about each donor including age, physical characteristics, interests etc. The enormity of the decision crossed her mind from time to time but she was able to suppress it and accept the facts for what they were. It didn’t make choosing one of them any easier. Supposing they were horrifically ugly? What if they had personality traits that she disliked or were carriers of some obscure disease? No, she told herself, that wasn’t possible �" they were thoroughly screened. Her mind wandered again and she sighed �" it was the romance she was missing. The passion. Why did these men do it for free? What altruistic impulse drove them to enter a clinic and provide a cold, clinical donation? They must know that they could have many children that they would never get to meet - did they not care? The thought again crossed her mind that they didn’t get paid �" why do it then? What were they, perverts? But it was her only option �" the only one available to her.

She hadn’t always thought that �" in fact there had been a moment of recklessness where she had begrudged the science, begrudged the sacrifices she was making and the toll it would take on her body and if she was honest, the money. It would cost a fortune and would be difficult for her to afford when every last penny she had, had gone on the house. At that time, in her mind, she had likened the sperm donor to any man that she might meet and have a one night stand with. She had dressed up in the raciest outfit she could find and had convinced Keira to join her for some drinks in town. She had drunk way more than she ever normally would and when Keira had made noises about needing to go home she had let her and had stayed at the bar herself. It wasn’t long before she’d made eye contact with a stranger across the bar. He’d been dark �" that she could remember �" dark features, around her age and thick set. Not conventionally attractive but not unpleasant. They’d got chatting and she’d found him to be nice enough �" amusing, reasonably intelligent and the holder of a respectable job. It went against her nature but she’d pushed things with him, invited him back to the cottage and had been pleased when she saw the light in his eyes at the sight of her home.

Once inside it was different. They were away from the buzz and hum of the bar �" suddenly two people who didn’t know each other, coming together for one thing. She’d let it happen �" it was for the greater good she told herself, the details were hazy as were the finer features of his face but the act was carried out and her goal was achieved. He’d gone home almost immediately afterwards and she’d been left feeling relieved if slightly cheap and somehow empty. She’d almost hoped that her plan hadn’t been successful �" she didn’t want her child consummated under such circumstances. And that month when it was clear that she would not bear the child of the man from the bar, she knew that the only way forward for her was a clinical one.

So she chose her donor:

Sam (*name changed for legal reasons)

37

University educated

Accountant

6’1

Light brown hair, blue eyes, medium build

Enjoys cycling, going to the gym and cooking

And that was it. He (Sam) would be the father of her child.

     ****************************************************************************

Global pandemic- Worldwide cases: 817,663. Deaths: 32,512.

The news alert flashed up on her phone and she immediately turned the device over so as not to see its brutal message again. She swallowed hard �" it was getting worse �" the virus. It wasn’t going to go away in time.

She got up from the sofa with difficulty, having to use the coffee table as a lever for her arm, to help support the great weight that she now carried. Once up, she made her way to the kitchen and turned on the tap, filling up a lime green tumbler with water and drinking it down swiftly. She waited a few moments, resting both hands of the swell of her stomach and to her immense relief, she felt the distinctive movement of her child inside her. She found herself more frequently paranoid these days, constantly questioning whether her baby was ok and imagining a range of horrific scenarios. There were times when she didn’t feel the baby move for what seemed an achingly long period then just as she was on the verge of picking up the phone to the new remote midwifery service, she would feel the familiar rolling, kicking sensations and would know that everything was ok. As ok as it could be �" given the circumstances.

It didn’t help that she had no-one to talk to. May was an only child and both of her parents had died when she was in her early twenties. Things had been awkward with Keira since she had told her about the pregnancy; she had become a distant acquaintance, not the close friend with whom she’d once laughed and shared her dreams and fears with. And since the ‘unprecedented’ situation had taken over, she hadn’t heard from her at all. No, there was no-one �" just her and the baby.

The sharp ring of the doorbell shook her from her musings �" a jolt of adrenaline shot through her and she felt the baby respond to the feeling. Why was someone at the door? They were in complete lockdown now and she’d had her grocery delivery two days ago. Lockdown meant that you couldn’t leave the house except for: exercise, vital shopping, helping a vulnerable person or attending a medical appointment. But she couldn’t do any of those because being pregnant, she was in the most ‘at risk’ group and could therefore not leave the house, relying instead on the support of her local community hub to deliver provisions and any medication that was required. She’d been lucky throughout the pregnancy �" she’d only recently required iron tablets and that was the only issue she’d had. She could only hope that the birth would be as straightforward.

May walked towards the door, automatically glancing in the mirror on her way past and taking in her slightly startled looking eyes, roughly scraped back hair and blotchy skin. When unlocked, she peered around the edge of the wooden, neatly painted door and the man politely standing a few metres away smiled at her awkwardly in response. He was tall and fair looking with piercing blue eyes. In spite of herself she wished she’d taken the time to neatly tie up her hair this morning or even put on some make-up. But she hadn’t done that in weeks, there seemed little point.

“Can I help you?” croaked May, silently cursing her voice for cracking as she felt the familiar rush of warmth to her face.

“I think that should be the other way round actually! I’ve been sent by the health service to see if there’s anything I can do for you? It’s a new initiative to help those vulnerable in the community and obviously…” His voice tailed off as he glanced down at her burgeoning stomach then swiftly returned his eyes to her face.

“Do you have any ID? Sorry it’s just…” There had been plenty of scams since this had all started, she heard about them on the news most evenings and she knew that she was a prime target for someone on the make. She had to protect herself because protecting herself was protecting the baby.

“Of course” he returned, swiftly removing the lanyard from around his neck and striding forwards to place it on the doorstep before hurriedly retreating back to his position.

She leant forwards and down so that she could study the ID without touching it. There was to be no touching between people from different households �" the virus was too easily transmitted. She read the health service ID title and scanned it to find the mark that revealed its validity, when satisfied, she gave a curt nod and he retrieved it smoothly.

His name was Luke Madjeski. He was a volunteer �" recruited to bolster the ailing health service. Most people were unable to work in their normal manner �" they’d been stood down from their offices and implored to work from home. Many other people had lost their jobs altogether as all shops, cafes and bars had been closed by the government. It amazed May that these people then had the resilience to volunteer to help the health service or a variety of other services on offer. The one thing this virus had affirmed was that the human spirit endured everything and beneath the superficial Instagram-led society, people were actually still capable of coming together as one in the times where it mattered most. She wondered whether Luke had lost his job, whether he was struggling to make ends meet, whether he had people depending on him at home…He cut into her thoughts.

“So my role is just to help you in any way possible. I know you have your food and medicine delivered so I guess it’s just really for anything else that might crop up or even just some company. You are on your own, aren’t you?” He enquired.

“Yes, yes I am.” Stammered May. “Well that would be great �" thank you.”

“Ok �" so the service will send you a text message with my number and then we can just keep in contact, if you ever feel like talking or if you need anything?” There was that smile again, easy but yet earnest in a curious way. She muttered her thanks and retreated back into the sanctuary she had created. She wondered why she felt so affected by his presence suddenly�" she realised that she’d somehow been expecting him and the realisation left her with a sense of disquiet. She was being silly. It was far too long since she’d had real life human company. It must have been weeks since she’d had a face to face conversation with someone �" it had unsettled her, that was all. She felt the baby move and the delicious ripple across her stomach propelled her up the stairs and into the small room where she’d created the nursery.

As soon as she entered the room, a sense of calm engulfed her. The soft, neutral tones of lemon and grey created an immediate sense of comfort and she eased herself into the beige feeding chair to further survey the room. She felt pleased as she looked around and knew she’d done a good job of creating a homely environment for her precious baby. It hadn’t been easy but she’d managed to source several items from the internet and before the restrictions, she’d attended nearly new sales as well as high street chains offering huge reductions. It wasn’t that she was on a severely tight immediate budget �" her freelance writing job paid well enough �" it was just the thought in the back of her mind that she was hugely in debt to the clinic and would be paying it off for many years to come. She’d worked out her finances carefully though�" had made sure that she had enough money day to day to pay for the baby’s needs and household bills but it still stung that such a large additional sum would need to go out to the clinic each month and there was no-one to share the burden with. Oh well �" that was the situation she found herself in and she was determined to make the best of it. She reprimanded herself for thinking in that way, she was one of the lucky ones, was still able to write, to be paid and have her pieces published. Unlike so many others.

She looked up to the wall above the cot and wondered how she’d managed to hang the little collection of three novelty animal prints in such a precise manner. She smiled at their quirky, jolly depictions and wondered if the baby would enjoy them as much as she did. Her eyes travelled down to the cot itself and she closed her eyes slightly in mock pain as she remembered the onerous process of putting it together. It had taken many youtube videos and many attempts over several days to get it standing as proudly as it did now. It looked immaculate adorned with soft sheets, fleece lined blankets and watched over by a rather handsome looking carousel of drunkenly dancing jungle inhabitants. It was silly to have made it up at all really �" the baby would be sleeping with her, in her room, for at least six months �" but it seemed wrong to have the bare mattress laying in the cot. Almost tempting fate. She couldn’t leave anything with this baby to chance.

May pushed up from the chair and moved towards the chest of drawers. She pulled open the top drawer and felt comforted by the rows of neatly ordered first size nappies, huddled together, like a sanitary army of perfect uniformity. The second drawer contained muslins and the bottom, tiny baby grows in muted tones of grey and white. She’d decided not to find out the sex of her baby because she wanted to enjoy the surprise when she finally met that little person - the gender did not matter to her whatsoever. What mattered would be the ability to hold and breathe in the scent of the tiny living person who would rely totally on her. She pulled out one of the outfits and once again marveled at the size of the garment �" how was it possible that a baby could be this small? How was it possible that a real life baby would be here, living in this house in just three weeks’ time?  She felt a slight spinning sensation which for a moment threatened to overwhelm her. She held out a hand to the bookshelf to steady herself and instead, her hand closed on the soft, familiar fur of a small bear. She clutched him tightly and brought him down from his new home. Without even needing to hold him she knew what he felt like; she knew where the fur was slightly matted and coarse; she knew that she would find a little groove instead of one of the charcoal black beaded eyes; and she knew the smell of him �" the smell of home, of familiarity �" it evoked memories of hot summers, lemonade, grazed knees and the sharp tang of the TCP ointment that had once adorned his fur by mistake and never quite left him. The nostalgia was so vibrant and the longing for that childhood was suddenly so overwhelming �" an almost visceral experience �" that she wasn’t sure if she could endure it. Just for a moment.

 She folded the baby grow neatly and nestled it back amongst its companions. Her eyes swept the room again and despite the dire situation that the whole world found themselves in, she felt happy as her baby shifted positions and she softly closed the door.

      *************************************************************************

  Somehow she’d managed to drive herself to the clinic. The journey had passed in a haze and she couldn’t remember any details about it at all. But she was here. She took in a deep breath and sipped more water from the bottle beside her. She had to have a full bladder for the procedure.

Since the nurses had ascertained that she’d successfully down-regulated her body, she’d been on a cocktail of progesterone forms to ensure that her womb was in the very best condition for the baby. Her regime involved taking three capsules throughout the day, two suppositories at each end of the day, as well as an internal cream to thicken the womb lining. All of the medicines had side effects �" if you read the online forums they would tell you that they did unspeakable things to the body and that you’d never be the same again �" but May ignored these and endured the slight effects she had to bear with a happy heart. None of it was comfortable or enjoyable but the promise of what there could be at the end was more than enough to get her through.

After her scan yesterday, she’d been told that her womb lining was now exactly the right thickness to receive the embryo, so it would be done today. The tiny speck of life had been taken out and defrosted earlier that morning�" it seemed so banal to think of it in those terms but that was exactly how it happened. She once again marveled at the science and acknowledged her gratefulness towards those pioneers in the 1970’s who had developed IVF, and who had bravely dared to push the boundaries of fertility, particularly in the face of much backlash that they’d received at the time.

Her stomach was in knots. Butterflies of all sizes seemed to have found a home inside her. They spread their beautiful wings and created a cavalcade of light and movement as they danced together.  May sipped at her water again and contemplated the procedure ahead. She knew that it would be less painful and invasive than the egg collection. That process hadn’t been what she’d imagined at all �" she hadn’t been expecting the rigorous preparation period; the plethora of drugs that she would be required to take; the regular uncomfortable, internal scans or the pain of the collection itself. She unconsciously crossed her legs in the car seat as her body remembered the physical discomfort as, with her legs up in stirrups, the female doctor reached deeper inside her with a long needle to collect the eggs. Though she’d been sedated at the time, she hadn’t been unconscious and she could still taste the salt of her tears that had streamed down her face as she bit her lip to hold in a silent scream. Despite the unimaginable pain, she had still felt her heart sing when the adjoining doors to the embryology lab had swung back and forth as the numbers of successfully collected eggs were transported through. When the procedure was over they told her that she’d managed to collect six eggs. A good crop, apparently. She’d been told that they would be immediately put with His sperm and she would be phoned the next day to see if any of her embryos were viable.

When the call had come in, she’d been huddled up in bed with a hot water bottle on her sore stomach and two co-codamol in her hand ready to take for the immense pain that she’d felt. She’d fumbled with the phone on answering and her heart had been in her mouth when she’d been told that two of her eggs had made it to embryos. The clinic had told her that she would be able to go in in either three or five days, depending on the embryo development, to have them transferred to her womb. As it happened, she wasn’t in a fit state for this to happen at all and the whole process was put on hold until a time when she would be physically ready for the transfer. In the end, it had taken May three weeks to recover from the whole ordeal �" her babies were ‘on ice’ until she was ready for them.

And now the day was here. She studied the car clock, it read ten to eleven, the perfect time to enter for her eleven am slot. She locked the vehicle and walked slowly up towards the majestic front door. There was something intimidating about the size and majesty of the building. It did not resemble a hospital at all �" much more a grand, stately home that was more in keeping with some period drama on TV. She relished the satisfying, crunching sound of the tiny pieces of gravel beneath her feet as she mulled over her decision to only have one of her embryos transferred today. The basis for her decision was that she wouldn’t be able to cope with twins �" she barely knew what to do with one baby �" let alone two; as well as the fact that she felt she could still have some hope left if this didn’t work. She dismissed the thought as quickly as it entered her mind �" it was too painful to even contemplate. But she knew her decision was sensible.

As she entered, the kindly lady behind the desk smiled at her as she checked her in. She was then given a pass and sent over to the day ward. This involved walking through an intricate path of tunnels and doors �" with a short stretch outside �" until she arrived at the Outpatients entrance. She had always found it fascinating, studying the other patients at the clinic and as she was seated in the waiting room, she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander around, wondering and imagining.

Some were easy to work out: the rather stressed looking grey-haired man in a sharp suit, clearly on the phone to a client whilst his bored, much younger looking wife flicked through a gossip magazine. Too easy! Second marriage, post-vasectomy �" only option was to come here. In the corner of the room were two ladies �" the one with the long curly hair rested an unmanicured hand softly on the knee of her slightly nervous-looking, pale, wide-eyed partner. Occasionally the curly haired woman would whisper something to her partner that brought the ghost of a smile to her lips and she would nuzzle her head into her companion’s neck in response. Again, not exactly challenging to work out. In the centre of the room were a more interesting couple �" the thin, pinched looking man seemed to have found a very interesting speck of fluff to inspect whilst his much larger, clearly overbearing wife, spoke to him at a volume which implied that she would like everyone to hear what she had to say. “I mean we’re almost like pros with this now. Fourth cycle �" all I can hope Cameron is that it works or we won’t be able to try again. With the polycystic ovaries and the thyroid issues I knew it would be tricky for us but after four attempts you expect something. Cameron, are you listening?” Poor Cameron bobbed his head in response, clearly accustomed to not needing to speak much �" he returned to his in-depth study of the fluff. “Now make sure you’ve remembered what we need to say to the consultant today, let’s go over it again…” May zoned the grating voice out. In some ways, she was glad she was doing this alone, it made it easier. There was one other woman alone in the waiting room. She somehow cut quite a forlorn figure and May wondered at her story, her history �" what had led her to this moment? She wondered if people looking at her thought the same �" that she was a solitary figure, sad, that she clearly didn’t have a significant other. The human ability to judge and create had always fascinated her; what made us think we were qualified to judge people’s lives, to create a story and a background for them? For all she knew the woman’s husband might have just been unable to attend the appointment and she perhaps she just had a forlorn face �" some people did. May sighed �" she needed to stop this and focus on what was about to happen.

But she couldn’t �" it was too much. Instead, she dug into her pocket and retrieved the oddly shaped token that promised her a watery cup of something from the decades old machine. She made her way towards it, conscious of the enquiring glances furtively shot her way and achingly aware of their judgements on her. Just as she was about to make her selection, a nurse appeared in the doorway and called her name.

It was a surreal experience; walking down the tastefully decorated corridor towards the theatre. Upon arrival, she was sat down on a plain plastic chair and asked to wait whilst a cacophony of sounds played out around her, everything seemed suddenly amplified. She could hear the frantic typing of the consultant at his screen, the beeping of several ominous sounding machines, the bustling of the nurses polishing their implements and of course, the raging pounding heartbeat which she recognised as her own, loud in her head.

Suddenly the doors to the adjoining embryology lab swung open and a stunningly beautiful, surprisingly young woman walked through them, sweeping her raven tresses over one shoulder and clutching a clipboard to her chest. The consultant looked up from his screen, acknowledged her with a brief nod and used the force of his feet to push his wheelie stool across the floor of the theatre until he came to a stop just in front of her. There was something faintly inappropriate about the action �" the casualness of the gesture didn’t suit the gravity of the situation �" but it somehow put her at ease.

The woman consulted her clipboard and after some standard patient ID questions, she lowered it and smiled at May.

“So, we have good news. Your embryo survived the thawing process and is a grade 4A blastocyst. This puts you in a perfect position to go ahead with the transfer today as planned.  Are you ok with that?”

May nodded her agreement and the red-head ticked something off on her clipboard.

“Ok �" I’ll go and make the preparations.” She disappeared through the swing doors and May wondered what is was like on the other side; visions of mad scientists and strange, half formed fetuses floating in display jars briefly invaded her mind.

“Right so if you just want to go behind the screen please, remove everything and pop on this hospital gown. Come out when you’re ready and we’ll complete the transfer.” The consultant smiled reassuringly at her and she was struck by just how white his teeth were, particularly against the backdrop of his smooth olive skin. She supposed he’d had them ‘done’ �" he must earn a lot of money as a private fertility consultant. As she was getting undressed she didn’t think about the fact that her embryo was about to be placed into her womb; instead, she thought about the consultant lusting after the beautiful embryologist. She wondered if anything had ever happened between them; she pictured passionate, after hours embraces against rows of medicine bottles and furtive, longing glances over the heads of patients. Why was she thinking these things at a time like this?

May emerged from behind the screen and awkwardly walked over to the special chair �" the walk seemed too long, especially as one hand was trying to cover her bare bottom, exposed by the gown. When she eventually made it to the chair, the nurse lowered her down and the consultant once again whizzed across the floor, at a slightly more sedentary pace this time, to gain his position in front of the screen �" between her legs.

It was a difficult situation to relax in and she was painfully aware that her legs were shaking slightly. One of the nurses applied gel to her tummy and quickly transmitted an image of her womb to the screen. The pressure from the transducer was uncomfortable on her full bladder. The other nurse sat down beside her head and held her hand with a reassuring warmth. “Ok, we are good to go. I’m going to insert the speculum now.” Stated the consultant �" it briefly crossed her mind that he must do many of these procedures most days. She felt the familiar discomfort and the cold of the gel used. The nurse gave her hand a squeeze and murmured some reassuring words �" it was an automatic action borne of many years of practice. The adjoining doors opened at that moment and the embryologist entered, holding a thin tube.

The consultant inserted a tube of his own inside of her and she felt a sharp scratch as it etched its way further on the journey to her womb. She tried to keep her body still and focused instead on the screen where she could see the tube wending its way onwards; she felt a slight pinching as it reached its destination and realised she’d been holding her breath the whole time. “Embryo please” he commanded, taking the second tube from the striking woman and inserting it into the tube that was in position. It all seemed so arbitrary. How could that little life actually just be nestling within a piece of tube? Was that as advanced as science got �" that a little solution flushed in from behind the embryo and it popped into place? But that was all it needed for life to truly begin. It was a tried and tested method.

May found herself blinking rapidly as the tiny embryo was flushed into place. She silently vowed to never forget the moment as she simultaneously hoped no-one would notice her tears. There was a short flash on the screen and then it was gone, the tubes were removed and the consultant was already signing something proffered to him by the embryologist. Had she imagined it or did his fingers brush past those of the beauty purposefully, with promise, when handing back the pen? “Ok �" we’re all done here. A very successful transfer. The nurses will give you discharge details.” May murmured a thank you to him but he was already back at his computer screen, no doubt filling in the necessary paperwork on the transfer and readying himself for the next patient.

Once dressed, she was ushered into a small office and was asked to wait for one of the nurses. She sat carefully, all too aware of the precious cargo that she now carried around inside her. She glanced around the room and her eyes were immediately drawn to a notice board which was teeming with pictures of babies. Some of them had computer generated writing on them like ‘thank you for everything’ or ‘Myla-Rae, 7lb1oz’ �" others just depicted beautiful, smiling babies. She couldn’t help but notice the higher than average ratio of twins and a wry smile crossed her face. At least she knew she wouldn’t be in that position.

A nurse entered the room and sat down abruptly opposite, rummaging in a drawer to pull out a plastic pack which she laid on the table in front of May. “Ok �" so all of your discharge information is in this pack along with your pregnancy tests.” She rifled inside the pack and pulled out a neatly typed list with the emblem of the clinic proudly displayed at the top of the page. “There are a list of do’s and don’ts �" please make sure you read them carefully. You’ll need to visit the pharmacy before you leave to ensure you’ve got all of the progesterone support you need �" you still keep taking the pessaries and gels every day and if the pregnancy is successful, you’ll keep taking them up until week twelve.” May sighed inwardly �" there was nothing glamorous about the intense regime of hormone treatment and she wasn’t happy to hear that the treatment would need to continue for so long but she unconsciously placed a hand on her stomach and suddenly it didn’t seem so bad. The nurse was still talking: “Please make sure you test on day ten �" not any earlier as this can provide a false result. Once you have the result, please phone the nurses helpline. Either positive or negative, the test will need to be repeated three days later, just to make sure and the result phoned in to us again. Obviously if you start bleeding before testing day, make sure you call us straight away and we will advise what to do from there. Ok, any questions?” May didn’t have any, the nurse had been very thorough.

After a short visit to the pharmacy, she found herself back in her car and looking at the dashboard, she realised the whole process had only taken just over two hours. How was it possible that something so life changing and technical could be completed in such a short time?  She reached across into the glove compartment and pulled out a cheerily patterned cool box. Once unzipped, the small tupperware box was easily retrieved and revealed large chunks of freshly cut pineapple. Although she actually craved a twirl and a cup of tea, she picked out the pieces and carefully ate her way through the box. The taste was surprisingly strong and sharp, as well as distinctive; May realised that it had been years since she’d last eaten pineapple. The reason for this bizarre snack was purely a result of her scouring the internet for all of the information she could get hold of regarding the successful implementation of embryos. Apparently pineapple contains bromelain �" an enzyme which can act as a blood thinner, helping the embryo to implant in the uterus. She would try anything to make this a success. She turned on the engine and spent the whole journey home imagining her little embryo snuggling into the perfectly prepared lining of her womb. It was only when she felt moisture on the steering wheel that she realised she’d been crying.

    *****************************************************************************

Global pandemic- Worldwide cases: 998,212. Deaths: 46,301.

May used her thumb to hide the new alert and it once again hovered over the message icon. Should she message him? Luke Madjeski had been in her thoughts for every one of the five days since she’d first laid eyes on him. Not that she was counting…She turned his name over inside her mouth. She liked how it felt on her tongue. Madjeski. She wondered if he was of eastern european descent. She hadn’t noticed an accent but that didn’t mean anything.

She was starting to feel more and more unsettled as the days went on. That’s why she’d thought about reaching out to Luke �" just so that she had another human to talk to about her fears and just to establish if she was dreaming or if the world had actually gone into complete meltdown? The severity of the virus was heightening on a daily basis; for the first time on the local news they’d mentioned deaths in her county �" it was getting closer. Now only people like Luke with a purpose or key workers were allowed to leave their houses. The rules had tightened up further and police were issuing fines for anybody seen outside of their house without legitimate reason. It seemed almost overnight that the country had slipped into a totalitarian regime. But it also seemed necessary. If she was honest with herself, May felt scared. She was completely alone, totally isolated and in the centre of a moment in history that would surely be talked about for the next thousand years. The thought made her shudder as she realised that everyone living in this time would just become a statistic to be studied and discussed years later. Without her baby, there would be no legacy of her time in this world and the thought made her all the more determined to bring him/her safely in to it. And to do that, she realised she might need the support of Luke.

She scrolled through her messages and didn’t have to go far to find the automatically generated one from the healthservice providing her with Luke’s details. She paused before opening it up as she saw Keira’s name a few rows below and felt sad about the loss of their connection. Keira could have been a real support to her during the pregnancy �" she knew about babies and birth �" but May knew that she hadn’t really approved of her chosen path. Keira was a traditionalist at heart �" she firmly believed in marriage and babies. 2.4 children in suburbia and all that. It wasn’t that May didn’t believe in those things too but life hadn’t presented her the opportunities it had Keira �" or perhaps she just hadn’t been willing to settle for what it had presented her with? She’d wanted more and more to her had led her to going on this journey by herself. She opened the message, it read:

‘Glad to hear you’re keeping well. Have you heard about this virus on the news? Scary times. Mark thinks we’ll get it over here eventually. Anyway �" speak soon.’

That had been it, sent five months ago, the cold formality of it was shocking and left May with a desolate ache somewhere in the pit of her stomach. She clicked off of it and opened the message with Luke’s number embedded within: her lifeline. She began a new message:

‘Hi Luke, it’s May here �" we met the other day. I hope you don’t mind me messaging you but I wondered if we could talk? Thank you.’

Before she had time to over-analyse what she’d written, she swiftly clicked ‘send’ �" this way she couldn’t back out of texting him. She was just carefully levering herself up from the sofa when her phone started ringing. He’d phoned her immediately. She sat back down.

“Hello?”

“Hi May, it’s Luke �" I just got your text. How are you doing? I’ve been thinking about you.”

To her horror, May’s eyes welled up with tears �" it was the relief of speaking to someone who actually seemed to care.

“May?”

“Sorry, yes I’m here. I’m ok, I’m just feeling a bit emotional that’s all…” Oh God! Why had she said that �" now he was going to think she was some deranged madwoman!

“Of course you are. How long is it until your due date?” She was impressed with his directness and the calm approach helped to dry her tears �" steered her towards thinking practically.

“Just over two weeks now. I really don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Are you still having your midwife appointments? Is everything ok with the baby?”

“Well they’ve moved to a remote, online service to control the infection risk so I haven’t actually been seen in person or examined but they’ve gone through long checklists with me and I’ve been feeling the baby move so they seem quite happy to leave me for now. Do you have children?”

She didn’t know what had made her ask that but something had taken over her and blurted it out. He paused.

“No, I don’t actually”. She thought she could detect something sad in his voice �" perhaps a wistfulness for what might have been. She didn’t know how to respond.

“Do you mind if I just ask you some questions? Just so that I can really find out about you?” She shouldn’t have been worried about her question; he was more direct than she could ever be. She found it refreshing.

“Go ahead” she replied. They talked for two hours �" without barely pausing for breath. There was something about talking to a stranger that made her feel able to open up. She told him about her childhood; about the loss of her parents at a relatively early age; she told him about the cottage and the love that had gone into renovating it and she even told him about the IVF and her decision to have a baby on her own. Nothing seemed to shock him �" nothing seemed to scare him. He responded to details of her life with warmth, understanding and humour.

In turn, she found out that he had moved to the UK from Poland when he was ten. He’d struggled to fit in but was never alone due to having a twin brother. He’d been married for several years in his twenties but his wife had been unfaithful and he was divorced by twenty-seven. Something he felt his family had struggled to forgive him for. For the last ten years he’d focused on his career as a Geography teacher in a secondary school �" he’d been promoted to Head of Department three years ago and had designs on senior leadership. He’d had a couple of long term relationships throughout his thirties but somewhat damaged by his unsuccessful marriage; unsurprisingly, neither of them had worked out. May felt like she knew him totally. She felt like she’d known him all of her life.

“And what about your parents �" are they doing ok with the virus and everything?” She enquired.

“I lost my mother to cancer when I was thirty one. My father is in a nursing home about an hour away �" early onset dementia”.

“I’m sorry to hear that” replied May, “And your brother?”

“He lives in London �" has got some office job in the city. I’ve been telling him to come home, just until the virus is over but he won’t listen. Not to me.” For the first time she detected tension in his voice, maybe some long deep-seated rivalry with his brother who was named Seb he told her.

“Is Seb married? Do you have nephews and nieces?” Luke laughed at that �" the thought of Seb being tied down was clearly not one he was used to.

“No �" he’s very ‘unmarried’ and I can’t imagine him as a father. I think it was sad for my parents �" never having grandchildren.” His voice tailed off for a second; lost in his own thoughts. How she wanted to climb inside his mind and view those thoughts with him �" become a part of them.

“Anyway, so when is your next virtual appointment? And what about when you need to go in to the hospital?”

“I’ve got one in a couple of days just to look at my progress and when the time comes, they’ve said they’ll send an ambulance. I really don’t want to go to the hospital though, I’ve, it’s the news reports and…” The terror struck afresh for May. The virus was rife in hospitals; there was not enough protective equipment for staff or patients; there were scenes of carnage with trolleys left out in corridors due to a lack of space on the wards and people gasping for breath due to a lack of ventilators; it was like something from a disaster film. But it was real.

“I’ve been thinking about a homebirth.” May stated in a much calmer manner than she felt.

“Wow �" how does that work?” Luke asked.

“Well, you phone the midwives when you go into labour. They send two out to you. They bring with them the pain relief and everything else that you’ll need. That’s it really. If something were to go wrong they’d send you straight into hospital.”

“I really don’t know anything about this but I would say that sounds like the better option. At least you’ll be safe in your own environment.”

She welcomed his opinion on the matter �" she’d had no-one to discuss the situation with and it was pleasing to hear that someone else also thought this was a good idea. She hadn’t realised until that moment that she was definitely going to have her baby at home but now she was resolute �" her baby would be brought into the world here. The place she felt more comfortable than anywhere else on earth: it was fitting.  She would inform the midwife in a couple of days.

May felt that Luke was just as reluctant to disconnect the call as her but left her with a promise that he’d phone again tomorrow. She supposed he didn’t have much else to do with no school for the moment.

When the silence enveloped her once more, she allowed herself a slow, luxurious smile. She hadn’t felt this alive in months. Every muscle within her body was taut, excited. Her fingertips and toes seemed to fizz with some unknown energy source. The immediate memory of his voice sent a jolt through her and it wasn’t just a physical reaction that she’d had to him �" it was an emotional one too. He’d understood her �" truly understood her. She felt they’d connected on a level that surpassed the mundane �" surpassed the ordinary and diligent. She felt as if he’d truly seen into her. He’d watched the cogs that made her tick and she’d felt his warm hand enclose around the vital elements of her being. And more than that �" her baby had responded to him. It was something she could never say out loud but it was true. The baby had flipped and rolled; poked and prodded; and, rather amusingly, hiccupped throughout her entire conversation with Luke. And now that it had stopped, the baby had snuggled down to sleep like some over-enthusiastic lamb ready for a deep sleep after a long, joyful play in the meadow. Luke was her meadow; he was the spring that she was missing out on seeing this year. Seeing, smelling, experiencing: spring had always been her favourite time of year with its promise of what was to come �" she’d missed not seeing the budding of this special time around her. But today she had felt it �" the promise of the warmth and abundance of beauty that was yet to come.

Was she getting carried away? She didn’t think so. Had he felt it too? She couldn’t be sure but the taste of something so significant was to her, unmistakable. And sure enough, at that moment, her phone beeped to herald the arrival of a new message. It was from him. It read:

‘One thing I’ve learnt in the last few weeks is that life is too short to not say what you mean. That was perfect �" it was beautiful and so are you. You are good dusza.’ She looked up his native word immediately �" it meant: ‘for the soul’.

       ***************************************************************************

The ‘Two Week Wait’ was just as horrendous as the chat forums had promised. The time had seemed to stretch out endlessly before her with no visible finish line in sight.

It was now seven days since they’d transferred her embryo: one whole week. And as far as she knew, it was still in there. She hadn’t started bleeding so that was a good sign. It didn’t mean it had worked �" of course not, but she’d adopted the chat forum title of ‘PUPO’ (pregnant until proven otherwise) �" she quite liked the sound of it �" she was PUPO. She had done everything by the book: for the first two days she’d barely moved; she hadn’t lifted anything; she hadn’t had a hot bath; she’d eaten a whole host of strange food promising to help her embryo burrow deep into her womb lining and she had kept positive as much as possible. It was in the hands of the Gods now. 

She was still rushing to the toilet with every slightest twinge that she felt in her belly. Just to check. Aching breasts and an aching lower back alarmed her on a daily basis as they seemed to herald the doom laden arrival of Mother Nature’s curse. And yet �" it had not arrived. Something inside her had started to relax into the wait; to accept that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

This evening, she’d agreed to go to the cinema with Keira �" they were long overdue a catch up (having made up in a rather awkward phone call a few weeks ago) and May felt she’d go mad if she sat in the house any longer. She had decided not to tell her about the embryo �" there was no point until she knew if it had worked for definite and anyway, the last thing she needed at the moment was Keira’s opinion on the whole matter again. No, if she asked about the donor situation she’d close it down and say she hadn’t thought about it in a while.

Keira arrived to collect her at 7.20pm. That was one thing about Keira: you could always rely on her to be at least half an hour later than she said she would be. Still, there was enough time to make the film �" at least it meant they wouldn’t have to sit through hours of monotonous adverts.

“Sorry I’m late May �" Em was being a right pain and refusing to go in the shower. She hasn’t had one for three days now. What is it with ten year old girls? In the end I told Mark he’d have to get her in or I’d drag her in by her hair when I got home.” May smiled at the image and remembered battles with her own mother about washing her hair. She wondered if she would ever get to have similar exchanges herself. They spent the journey catching up on work, Keira’s family and programmes that they both enjoyed watching. By the time they arrived at the Multiplex, the easy familiarity had been re-established between them.

As the film played out, May became aware of a curious sensation. Something bizarre seemed to be happening deep within her. She could feel a faint popping and the most glorious warmth spreading through her; it felt like vines of pure pleasure were taking root in the pit of her stomach and dispersing their luscious fruits throughout her being. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She looked around her, certain that everyone would be staring at her �" surely this spectacle would be visible for all to see? But no, nothing, everyone seemed to be fixed on the screen, mundanely eating their way through cartons of popcorn or struggling with the soggy nature of the newly implemented cardboard straws. No, this spectacle was for her eyes, no, her body, only. By the time the feeling had passed, May felt certain of one thing.  But she did not dare even think the thought out loud.

  The next morning heralded the arrival of day eight. She knew that she shouldn’t and that it was too early to test but she couldn’t stop herself. An overwhelming compulsion propelled her towards the bathroom cabinet. She watched herself tear open the early testing kit that she’d bought last week; careful only to use the clinic’s kits for the official testing. She watched the eagerness of her hands as they clumsily fumbled over the plastic wrapper �" eventually having to resort to something sharper: teeth, to gain entry to the hallowed stick. She watched the rosy cheeks burning with a fire, a passion for the outcome that she so desired. She took in the wild look in the eyes and feared for the woman standing before her if her dreams were not to be.

Then she was back inside herself. Three minutes stretched away from her like a yawning, aching eternity. She couldn’t stand it. She left the little stick balanced carefully on the edge of the roll top bath �" how could something so innocuous be of such significance?

May padded through her bedroom and made her way to the window. The morning outside was beautiful: an azure blue sky promised a pleasant warmth to come; birds chorused together in a charming melody of midsummer joy; the hedgerows and grass were dazzling in their emerald splendor and yet it would take the absence of one, small pink line for all of this to be jaded. For the beauty to fade. For the vibrancy to turn to monochrome. For her world to crumble.

She walked back from the window then, afraid to look upon it any longer. As she moved towards the bathroom she could see the stick gazing at her, pleading to be read. She closed her eyes and drew it to her; not daring to breathe. Gradually, she allowed her eyes to open and to fix on the small window. And there, sweetly, beautifully there, was the lightest pink line blinking up at her from the face of the stick.

She couldn’t believe it.

She ran about the house holding it up to this light and that. Holding it outside the backdoor so that she could view it in sunlight and then again against the many different lamps inside. And against every intrusive light presented to it, the little pink line held its form. However faint it might have been, it was definitely there.

May eventually collapsed on the sofa, half laughing and half crying at the thought of what was to come, what was happening inside of her. She lay back and pulled the fabric of her top up so that she could get to the skin of her tummy. Her fingers stroked and cradled the softness; almost unconsciously, she found herself humming the tune of a lullaby from her own childhood to soothe her unborn baby. The baby that had taken root and was now firmly growing inside of her.

     ***************************************************************************

Global pandemic- Worldwide cases: 1,269,452. Deaths: 112,146.

May heard the news bulletin from her household companion device set up in the kitchen. It was insane to think that over one hundred thousand people had now lost their lives to this virus. Even when thinking this she was aware that she still didn’t truly understand the full horror of this unknown enemy. She hadn’t seen it for herself. It wasn’t touching everyone around her. There weren’t huge red crosses on the doors and the dead being brought out onto the street. The figure of a ‘hundred thousand’ still seemed remote and vague, as if it could never touch her. She found it impossible to associate that figure with actual living, breathing people with families and jobs, actually dying.

 It was just a little over a week until her due date now and she had arranged the homebirth with the midwives. They hadn’t been pleased, they had wanted her to go into hospital as it was her first baby but they had had to comply with her wishes in the end. And she was set on this.

She had spoken to Luke every day since their last conversation. Her heart danced at the mere thought of him. It was hard to describe but something in his soul spoke to her own. They just connected. They had now spent several nights on the phone- up all night- just talking. There was something about watching the inky black sky get washed away by the faded hope of dawn that made their calls seem illicit and exciting. As if they were the only two people privileged enough to be let into the true secret to happiness. She’d taken to crawling into bed just as the sun began his daily tour through the heavens; she would be exhausted but satisfied and smiling.

The only shadow over their blossoming connection was Luke’s permanent worry about his brother. Living in the Capital and having had interactions with many people before the lockdown came into force, it was only ever really a matter of time until he’d develop symptoms of the virus and, sure enough, when Luke had spoken to him two nights ago, he’d felt very unwell with a hacking cough and a high temperature. Being relatively young and in good health, May had tried to reassure Luke that he had nothing to worry about but Luke had shrugged off her reassurances with mumblings of a childhood weakness of the chest. May knew that Luke felt highly conflicted. He wasn’t able to go and be with his brother due to the infection risk, as well as the travel restrictions, but every instinct within him was telling him to be by Seb’s side.

They said that twins connected on a different plane and this was certainly true for Luke and Seb. Luke had told her about their tumultuous relationship over the years; the competition for their parents’ affection and praise; the explosive rows that would develop over nothing and the twisted jealousies fostered in infanthood which grew into bitter insurmountable blocks between them as men. And yet, Luke knew when his brother was in trouble and needed him. As did Seb for him. When his marriage had fallen apart, before he’d even confirmed the relationship was over, Seb had reached out, able to feel the pain that his brother was in without being told. Luke had lost count of the number of times their phone lines were engaged because they were ringing each other at the same time. He’d told her about how they held each other and cried over the loss of their mother. In that moment they had been but two little boys again, united in their grief. And now Luke was feeling compelled towards him, something was not right.

As she imagined how it must feel to experience the pain of another so vividly, a pain gripped her firmly in its hand and held her there for a few seconds. She marveled at her own imagination and ability to empathise with the twins. She held firmly on to the arm of the sofa and eased herself up�" destined for a decaf tea and a biscuit. As she made her way through to the kitchen, another pain clutched at her: it was a cramping that seemed to be starting deep within her back and radiating its violent claws around her sides. The severity of it took her breath away and she stopped to hold on to the door frame. She was no longer imagining the twins’ pain. Her baby was coming.

  **************************************************************************

  The first twelve weeks of the pregnancy had been wonderful for May. Even the daily challenges of administering the progesterone and the odd bout of queasiness couldn’t dull the permanent shine that she felt radiating from herself. She enjoyed the fact that she was the only person that knew about the little life inside of her. The clinic didn’t count. There was something beautifully delicious about the knowledge she had, that no-one else did. It was like being the only person to win a golden ticket and to be given a private tour of the chocolate factory �" with sweet souvenirs to be taken whenever desired.

 She spoke to her baby often and felt she had already bonded with it in a way that she hadn’t imagined was possible before. The success of the process had given her great joy and a sense of confidence�" she had made this happen �" her and the wonders of modern science. And Him something whispered, don’t forget Him. She felt feminine yet delicate; maternal yet powerful. Only occasionally did it cross her mind that she was doing this alone, that maybe the road ahead would be difficult. But these thoughts were like the briefest of shadows rippling at the periphery of her mind; never given opportunity to cast fully into the light.

 May had noticed her body changing which both fascinated and amazed her. Her breasts were full and heavy already; newly visible vibrant blue veins chased across the skin like a map of the underground, signaling the destination of impending motherhood. Her stomach was becoming rounded and was protruding further forward �" she could still fit in her normal jeans for now but it was a squeeze and in photos she had taken over time without clothes on, she could see the fullness developing. One of her favourite pastimes was flicking through her camera roll and studying how her body was changing �" it gave her an immense feeling of satisfaction. She knew that her body had many more dramatic changes to go through yet and she welcomed them all happily. It was true what they said about the pregnancy glow as well, her skin seemed to be radiant, like no spot or blemish dared to take up residence on the vessel of something so precious. All in all she felt fantastic and today was the day that she would get to see her baby for the first time.

 May stepped out into the morning and carefully locked the door. It was the first week in September and although the sun was shining pleasantly enough, there was a sharpness to the air, a reminder not to become complacent, a hint of what was to come. May shivered and pulled her jacket more tightly around herself as she made her way to the car. When driving to the hospital her mind wandered in an array of directions, finally settling on thoughts of her family. On the lack of anyone to share the news of today with. She was an only child but she’d never thought of it as a disadvantage before�" it was only now that she could see how nice it would be to have a sibling, someone close, someone to share her fears and hopes with. Someone who really knew her.

 Her parents had been older when they’d had her. They hadn’t been sure that they would ever be able to have children and just as they were coming to terms with the prospect after years of monthly disappointments, her mother had fallen pregnant with her. She wished now that they’d talked more �" now more than ever she felt that she could empathise with her mother. She could imagine her joy, she could feel the fear that she would have experienced and of course, the love that she felt for her. But she’d only been in her early twenties when she’d lost her. She hadn’t bothered to really get to know the woman behind the mother. She had seen her as a figure �" a maternal source of comfort, someone to soothe her ailments, to reassure her anxious mind and to fix things when they went wrong. Other than for those functions, she didn’t really know who she was. She’d been selfish and hedonistic; chasing dreams and blinkered. Perhaps if she’d lived longer they would have grown closer, would have shared wine and laughed together �" overcoming generational differences and her father. But it wasn’t to be. She vowed now that her own child would not see her in such a way �" she would do anything she could to break down barriers between them and to ensure her child knew the real her.

She didn’t blame her mother though, her father had been a difficult man to live with; to please. Most of her energies had been spent on maintaining the delicate balance of motherhood and wifely duties to ensure harmony in the home. She supposed it must have been a fairly boring life for her mother �" almost robotically carrying out her functions �" she hoped that she’d had secrets and perhaps a life away from her father. He’d been a curious mixture of a disciplinarian who ruled with fear, as well as odd glimpses of humour and warmth that both surprised and disarmed her with their sporadic appearances. Reflecting on it now, she wondered if part of him had wished that she hadn’t been born. Perhaps he’d been looking forward to retiring early, spending time with her mother, going on holidays together and tending his beloved allotment. As it was, he’d found himself a first time father at the age of forty eight with no hope of retiring early and a small, curious girl to entertain. She had certainly felt like there was some resentment towards her from him. Whatever she did, she never seemed to fully please him.

Whilst others admired her writing and stories, even as a young child, he would find a way to criticise them, never giving praise. He was disappointed that she lacked athletic ability and despaired over how dense she was with numbers. He would undermine and belittle her at family gatherings, in front of others, so that she had to laugh it off to be able to bear and conceal the inevitable sting behind the eyes that it caused. But despite this, there were odd moments where something else slipped through, a suggestion of his true feelings from beneath: the small photograph of her that he carried in his wallet, the odd look where his eyes would light up and the ghost of a smile would touch the edge of his lips when watching her animatedly explain something to her mother and the way that he’d grasped her hand on his deathbed, held it so tightly that it had shocked her that there was that much strength left in his frail body, as a single remorseful tear had slipped down his cheek. But it was after he had died when she was going through his things that she realised he had loved her �" he had been proud of her. She’d been clearing out his wardrobe, packing things to send off to the charity shop, when she’d come across a battered looking shoe box wedged underneath his gardening shoes. She had pulled it out with shaking hands, carefully brushing off the debris from the shoes �" earth that still smelt of rain- and reading in red permanent marker, in capitals: ‘MAY’.

 Her heart had been pounding as she’d removed the lid and she’d taken a sharp, painful breath as she realised that this little box had been where he stored his pride for her. He had a copy of every article she’d ever written: first as a student and then later, a junior writer. He had a lock of her hair and one of her baby teeth in a crumpled blue paper sachet embossed with the faded wings of the tooth fairy. He had photos of her as a newborn, then a toddler, a sweet looking little girl and then later, an awkward teenager. He had birthday cards that she’d sent him with the over-large scrawl of someone who’d just learnt how to write, each year up until the elegant, slanted handwriting of her later years dominated them. So he had cared, he had loved her, he just hadn’t been able to express it. And as she’d sat there, surrounded by the distorted tapestry of her life, tears wet upon her cheeks, she just wished that he’d hugged her once in a while.

  As she pulled up at a junction, she considered what her parents would have been like as grandparents and she decided that the answer was decidedly better than they had been as parents. She could imagine her mother now, baking with the baby, offering her advice on feeding, taking the baby out in the pram to look at the ducks in the local pond �" she would have done all of this in a relaxed manner �" there would have been no juggling or appeasing to contend with. Just open love to give. She imagined her father, an idealized relaxed version of himself. Handing the baby sticky sweets wrapped up in gold paper, taking them to the allotment and teaching them about all of the plants and vegetables; perhaps even the baby curling up on his knee �" a chubby hand stroking and pulling at the loose skin of his elbow in a repetitive motion until sleep claimed them both. She sighed: in reality it probably wouldn’t have been like that anyway but she couldn’t find out �" her parents were dead.

 May arrived at the hospital in good time for her appointment. She made her way quickly through to the Ultrasound waiting room and marveled, as she always did in hospitals, how she had gone unchallenged when negotiating the labyrinth of wards and corridors. It seemed to her that anyone could go anywhere in a hospital and no-one seemed to mind. Everyone was just far too busy to notice someone who shouldn’t be there �" the thought raised the tiny hairs on the back of her neck and added to her already prevalent sense of disquiet.

 Presently, she was called through to the scanning room. She briefly battled with the flimsy blue curtains lingering just inside the door and sat nervously on the edge of the bed as instructed, awaiting further directions. Her biggest fear was that the sonographer would find nothing inside her �" no baby �" a false alarm and crushed dreams. She knew that this was highly unlikely but it didn’t stop her over-active mind from imagining the scenario. She looked over at the woman with her head bent over her computer screen. She was neat and petite; when she spoke it was a crisp, clipped sound with an underlying assertiveness. “Ok so I’ve got you on the system. The function of this scan is to date your pregnancy �" though being IVF I’m sure you’ve got a pretty definite idea of due date. We’ll also take a nuchal translucency measurement and check the general health of the baby. Ok?” She smiled at May with a well practised, reassuring smile and got her to lay back on the bed. May pulled up her top and tucked the scratchy paper into the top of her trousers. The woman flicked something with her foot which caused all of the lights to go off. She then squeezed cold gel onto May’s tummy and pressed the probe down hard on top. May’s gaze was desperately fixed on the screen in front of her, willing and searching for the image that she so urgently wanted to see. It seemed an age of prodding and poking until the woman said, “There’s baby �" very wriggly today” and the most beautiful image May had ever seen dominated the screen.

 The first thing that she noticed was the miniscule nose. How was it possible for such a tiny thing to have such a perfect, well-proportioned nose? She could also see the rise of the baby’s tummy and the firm curve of its back. The cord, that amazing life-giving force, was also visible as was the clear outline of the brain. It was incredible to think this little being really was inside of her. The sonographer gave a commentary as she performed the checks and measurements but May didn’t hear any of it �" she was falling in love. The baby was wriggling and turning around inside of her, performing an acrobatic routine to its forever captive audience. When the screen suddenly went blank and the harsh strip lighting reignited, May jolted in shock. “Where’s it gone?” She exclaimed.                                 “That’s the end of the scan I’m afraid �" they don’t last too long. But I’ve printed you out some nice pictures and everything is fine with your baby.” May breathed a sigh of relief and grasped at the pictures being proffered to her, as if they might be taken away at any moment.

 She floated out of the hospital, drifting on a cloud. Her head was full of visions of her baby and her heart felt as if it might burst out of her chest. Once back in her car she sat and stared at the pictures, turning them this way and that, holding them up to the light and imprinting the images firmly onto her brain. This was really happening. The thought caused a smile to spread across her face and she pulled out of her parking space, feeling as though the stars had finally aligned and all was well with the world.

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  May took some deep breaths and tried to calm herself. It was a week early but that wasn’t uncommon. She knew that the birthing pack was safely stowed away in the cupboard under the stairs and she knew that she needed to phone the midwives when the contractions were four minutes apart and were lasting for longer than forty-five seconds. Until then, she just had to get through the early stages as best she could.

May continued on into the kitchen and filled a tumbler with water from the tap. She then rifled through the cupboard until she found some biscuits and rather than selecting just one or two, she took the whole packet and walked towards the staircase. She’d read somewhere that it was important to keep your energy up during labour. She took the steps slowly, one by one, afraid of the pain reappearing and sending her spiraling backwards. But it did not. Upon reaching her bedroom, she paused for a rest on the end of the bed before deciding that the best course of action would be a warm bath. Many of the videos and books she’d read recommended a warm bath to soothe the pains of early labour.

She ambled into the bathroom and turned on the taps, reaching around in the cabinet until she found the lavender oil that she’d purchased a few weeks ago and carefully administering a couple of drops to the water. The calming scent immediately infused the air around her and she suddenly felt more in control. She could do this.

May stripped off her clothes and dipped her toe into the water to test the temperature. Satisfied, she stepped over the bath and lowered her whole self in. At that moment, another pain gripped her, wrenching through her body and causing her to gasp in agony. She felt an incredible downwards pressure as well as a sudden urge to vomit. Her skin went clammy and her hands shot out to grasp the edges of her bath for support. It was a pain like nothing she’d ever felt before. And she was only in the early stages. As the pain subsided, May breathed in deeply and tried to relax but a million different, anxious thoughts jostling for the spotlight inside of her mind prevented this.

The thought that won the contest was the virus. What if the midwives brought it into her house? What if the baby contracted it and then died? What if she contracted it and could no longer look after her baby? Terror was burrowing through her body; she had to physically wrestle the thoughts away and internally shouted ‘banish’ whenever they reappeared �" an old coping mechanism she’d used for years that seemed to help her triumph over her most anxious moments.

May tried to breathe in deeply to help to calm her mind and body but at that moment, another pain ripped through her. The pain caused her to suddenly, awkwardly bend double in the bath; the violence of it causing a tsunami of scented water to cascade over the side. Tears ran in rivulets down her cheeks. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. The women in the videos she’d watched were all serene and were able to manage the ‘surges’ with a smile on their contented, smug faces. Why wasn’t it like that for her?

Before her mind could catch up, her body had already reached for her phone and dialed Luke’s number.

He answered on the second ring. “May �" are you ok?” His voice was an immediate balm; soothing her pain. “I’m in labour” she managed to reply, “it hurts so much.” It was all she needed to say.      “I’m coming over �" I’ll be there in ten minutes”. Her protestations about distancing and the virus were silenced as he cut off the call. They’d been feeble anyway �" she wanted him to come.

By the time a sharp knock came at the door, she’d managed to get out of the bath, put on a dressing gown and make her way downstairs. It hadn’t been achieved without considerable challenge but she’d managed it.

She opened the door and was greeted by the piercing blue eyes and reassuring size of him. “Let me be with you. Let me help you �" please.” It wasn’t really a question; it was more of a statement. Something that was going to happen. They didn’t need to discuss it �" to cover the dangers or the risks �" their connection had already gone beyond that and all she needed to give was an almost imperceptible nod before he had crossed the threshold, into her house and firmly, into her life.

But she couldn’t rejoice or celebrate the moment because she felt like she was about to die. The pain took over her once more and she instinctively reached out for him. The first human that she’d had physical contact with in months. The first man that she’d had physical contact with in as long as she could recall. He didn’t flinch from her touch or shrug her away, instead he placed his warm, strong arms around her and held her close as her body helplessly contorted, trying to fight the pain. He stroked her back and muttered soothing reassurances into her hair. It helped. It helped just to have him there but it wasn’t enough. She cried out from the pain, the sound desolate even to her own ears. As it finally receded, May looked up at Luke, trembling, and felt him look into her soul with those electric blue eyes. He reached out a hand and stroked it gently down the line of her jaw, then his grip strengthened on the back of her head and he pulled her towards him, kissing her with a tenderness she had not realised a man would be capable of. All at once, it was the most important and sensual moment of her life thus far.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that” he looked embarrassed, suddenly aware of the circumstances and what he had done. “Don’t be �" I’m glad you did”. Responded May and she slowly led the way into the living room. “Is there anything I can get you?” Luke asked, keen to help, to be of use somehow.

“I don’t think so at the moment, just be with me, please?”

“Yes of course, have you phoned the midwives yet?”

“No  - it’s too early. They said wait until the contractions are four minutes apart and lasting for forty five seconds. I think mine are every six minutes at the moment and last about thirty seconds”. As she said it she was aware things were still moving fairly quickly. In her head she’d imagined a slowly progressing, gentle labour where she’d have time to take a walk, to eat snacks and watch films. In reality, the pain was so sickening and her growing fear of it so great, that there was no way she’d be doing any of the things she’d imagined. For the first time, she wished she was in the hospital, hooked up to some machine with her pain in the hands of others. For a few minutes they discussed mundane things, things not related to the virus or to her baby. But it could not go on.

“There’s another one coming” she almost barked the words at Luke and wasn’t so consumed by the anticipation of the pain that she couldn’t see the alarm in his eyes. It suddenly crossed her mind that he probably had no experience of labour or birth either. He would never have expected himself to be in this situation and was doing admirably well, all things considered.

She twisted herself round so that her hands were placed on the top of the sofa and her knees were resting on the soft cushions. Luke moved round to rub the base of her back and tell her that everything was going to be ok. As the pain consumed her she felt her back arch and heard the howl coming from herself, as if from a great distance. When she finally re-emerged from the long tunnel of pain, she noticed that Luke was ashen. “I think we have a problem” he almost whispered. She turned around and was only half surprised to see the crimson stain spreading out like a drop of dye in water, across the lower half of her white dressing gown.

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Author's Note

I am just interested in seeing what people think of the quality of the writing and whether the storyline is gripping/interesting enough please. Thank you :-)