As George wheeled me out of the hospital, everything about the world seemed so gloomy. Even though there was the sunshine beaming down on us, which was surprisingly strange for a normal November afternoon, the world seemed dull. I hadn’t said a world to anybody since the doctor told us the news last night. Doctors kept me in hospital overnight just in case something else happened but after I had a scan, they discharged me. All the way throughout the scan, I refused to look at the baby. How could I look at the screen when there should have been two babies in there, not just one? The midwife asked if I wanted to know the sex of our baby, but I didn’t want to know. I would have been focusing on the one we lost, not the one we still had. George kept telling me that I needed to keep strong for Katy and the baby we still have but I couldn’t find the strength to smile, let alone keep strong.
“Do you want to sit in the front or in the back?” George asked as we reached the car. “You’d probably be more comfier in the back so you can recline the seat.”
I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t care. What little pain and discomfort I was going through physically right now was nothing in comparison to what pain I was feeling emotionally and mentally.
“We’ll get you in the back,” George smiled, trying to stay as supportive as possible - something which was hard considering I was useless. “Let’s get home and get straight to bed.”
At least George knew exactly what I wanted. All I wanted to do right now was climb into bed and cry myself to sleep. I knew after the first miscarriage that self-loathing was not the way to deal with things like this but all I wanted to do was cry and cry and cry. Crying wouldn’t solve anything but it made me feel a bit better for a while.
*
Turning off the engine, George looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a helpless half-hearted smile. I could see it in his face that the last thing he wanted to do right now was smile but he was smiling for my sake. I could tell he felt the same way I did but he didn’t want to show it.
George helped me out of the car, making sure I didn’t hurt myself as the stitches were still healing from yesterday’s operation.
“Go upstairs and I’ll be up in a minute,” George instructed the second we walked into the house through the front door.
Clambering up the stairs, using the banister to heave myself up, I listened out for the sound of any movement in the house. Walking into my bedroom, I was stopped by mum calling my name from the opposite side of the hallway.
“Sammy,” she paused as I turned around. “We’re so sorry.”
I shrugged my shoulders as I looked back at them without any sign of emotion on my face.
“Come here,” mum sobbed, rushing across to me and carefully wrapping her arms around me. “I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I replied, refusing to show any emotion at all. “It’s just one of those things.”
“Mummy!” Katy grinned as she ran out of her bedroom, heading straight towards me.
“No,” mum paused, grabbing Katy before she had chance to run straight into me.
“Why?” Katy asked, looking confused. “Mummy, why won’t you hug me?”
“I will,” I said, breaking a false smile for her benefit. “Mummy’s just tired. I’ll come read you a story in a minute. Why don’t you get granddad to tuck you into bed?”
Reluctantly, Katy nodded and ran back over to her bedroom door where Michael was stood, waiting to tuck her into bed for me.
“Thank-you for looking after her,” I said to mum.
“It’s no trouble,” mum paused. “You know we’re here for you.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“Things will be okay in the end,” mum reassured me. “I know things feel really bad right now and they are. I don’t know anybody braver than you, Sammy. You’ll get through this. I’m heartbroken so I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
I nodded again.
“You can get through this, Sammy. We’re all here for you.”
I nodded for a third time.
“Mummy!” Katy screeched at the top of her voice.
Mum gave me a supportive smile before I began to stumble across the hallway to Katy’s room. “I’m coming.” As I walked into her room, Michael left us alone and shut the door, leaving me and my daughter in the room in silence. “What story do you want me to read?” I asked, looking at Katy, who was all snuggled up in her duvet.
“Teddy Bear!” she grinned.
“Again?” I asked. “I only read that to you Monday night.”
Katy, adamant that she wanted me to read ‘Teddy Bear’ again, nodded with a huge grin that was hard to say ‘no’ to.
“Okay.”
Sitting down in the chair beside Katy’s bed, I tried to ignore the pain that was throttling through my stomach but it was hard to not yelp at it. The doctor told me it’d be normal to experience a bit of pain and only go back to the hospital if I started to bleed. Never going to the hospital ever again would have been too soon.
“Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Betty,” I began to read, picking up the story from the bookshelf and showing Katy the pretty illustrations on each page. “Betty had a teddy bear who she loved dearly. She took it everywhere with her. When Betty went to school, Teddy went to school. When Betty went to the park, Teddy went to the park.”
Katy grinned up at me as I read the story to her.
“One day, when Betty went to the shops, she forgot Teddy and left him at home on her bed by accident.”
Katy gasped, just like she did every time I read the story to her.
“While Betty was at the shops, Teddy decided to go on an adventure to find Betty. He packed his bag, threw it over his shoulders and left the house to find Betty,” I smiled, reading the story just like I usually did with enthusiasm - I loved it almost as much as Katy. Almost. “Teddy climbed hills and marched through the streets to find Betty.”
“Teddy!” Katy beamed, pulling out the free Teddy teddy that accompanied the book that was shoved down the side of her bed.
I smiled at her before reading the next page. “Eventually, Teddy found Betty at the cake shop on the other side of town.”
“‘Hello, Teddy!’” I exclaimed in the high pitched voice I had allocated to Betty.
“‘Hello, Betty!’” I replied in the low pitched voice I had allocated to Teddy.
“After eating a cake and having a cup of tea, Betty and Teddy ran all the way home, giggling and singing as they ran.”
“Night, mummy,” Katy grinned, rolling over in bed - just like she did every time I finished reading her the story.
“Night, baby.”
After turning the light off and closing the door ajar, I turned around to see both my mum and Michael looking at me from across the hallway with the same look of sympathy that everyone seemed to be giving me. “What?” I asked.
“Are you going to be okay, Sammy?” mum replied, looking more worried than I had ever seen her before. “We can stay if you need us around. Or you can always come back and stop at ours for a few days. You know you’re always welcome.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I know how things got on top of you last time,” mum paused as she realised what she had said.
“Last time?” Michael asked in confusion.
“Well done, mum,” I groaned, walking past them and into my bedroom, leaving them in the hallway with a cloud of awkwardness surrounding them.
“What do you mean ‘last time’?” Michael repeated. “Jenny? Sammy?”
I ignored his request for information as I carefully sat on the edge of the bed and slowly shuffled back, further into the duvet. Mum, on the other hand, stood looking at the floor, trying to work out an excuse but there was no point in thinking of an excuse - Michael had guessed it.
“You mean, this has happened before?” Michael asked.
We ignored him further.
“Can somebody please give me an answer,” he demanded.
“Yeah,” George replied, walking up the stairs to see what all the commotion was about. “Before we had Katy. Sammy was pregnant but she had a miscarriage. That’s why she collapsed at that concert a few years ago. She wasn’t taken to hospital with expected appendicitis. She lost the baby.”
Michael’s jaw dropped as he looked at me. Soon his anger and frustration over nobody telling him turned into sadness and sympathy - yet again.
“Sammy. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, rushing into the room and sitting beside me.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to forget about it,” I paused. “I guess I just wanted to move on past it without letting it get to me. It wasn’t like I was ready for a baby then.”
“You can’t forget something like this though, Sammy. It’ll stay with you forever,” mum sighed.
“I can,” I replied. “And I will. We’ll tell Katy in the morning and then that’ll be that.”
“Until the funeral,” mum paused.
“How can you have a funeral for something that wasn’t even born?” I asked.
“Your mum is right,” George said, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking over his shoulder at me. “A funeral will give us closure and help us say goodbye. The baby might not have been born but they were still loved by us both - by all of us. We still need to grieve.”
I shrugged my shoulders. I was too numb and confused to make any decisions. All I wanted to do was roll up in the duvet and cry myself to sleep. The last thing I wanted to be doing right now, or ever for that matter, was planning a funeral for my baby.
“I can arrange things if you want me to?” mum suggested.
I nodded. It wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter but part of me knew George was right. We needed to grieve for our loss - both of us.