“We’ll manage with two, and we’ll handle a third. I can pick up extra work. Or… do you want to end the pregnancy?” her husband asked bluntly.
Emily had been feeling exhausted for days. There was so much to do, but all she wanted was to sit still—or better yet, lie down and not move. The thought of food turned her stomach. A pregnancy test confirmed what she already suspected.
Just two years out of maternity leave, barely recovered from nappies and baby clothes, and now this again… She was upset. Oliver had just turned five, and little Sophie had started Year 2. The kids needed her attention, and soon she’d be consumed with a newborn. Would they understand? Would they resent their new brother or sister?
“A child is a blessing, of course. Where there’s love, there’s a way. Isn’t that what they say? But times are so uncertain—though when were they ever easy? Women had babies during the war, didn’t they? What will I even say at work? ‘I’ll be off on maternity leave soon, and then I’ll be calling in sick all the time’?
“And how could I possibly work with three kids? The family’s growing, but we’ll have to live off just Daniel’s salary…” Emily agonised over it, reluctant to “surprise” her husband with the news just yet. There was still time to think.
Not long ago, her boss had asked if anyone was planning maternity leave or quitting. Understandable, since most of the team were women. Emily, like the others, assured him she had her boy and girl—her hands were full, and she wasn’t planning another baby. And now this.
“Why am I even worrying about work? Family comes first. Work will always be there…” Time passed, but Emily still wavered, turning it over and over, unable to settle on a decision.
“Are you ill? You’re pale, and you’ve been lost in thought. I’ve asked three times what we should get for Oliver and Sophie, and you’re not even listening. Did something happen?” her husband asked one evening.
Finally, she told him. Daniel was quiet for a moment before asking, “So… what are we going to do?”
He didn’t say, “What are *you* going to do?” but, “What are *we* going to do?” That was Daniel—always standing by her side. She loved him for that. He wouldn’t leave her alone with this. A weight lifted, the guilt at keeping it from him dissolving. She shared all her doubts.
“We’ll manage with two, and we’ll handle a third,” he said firmly.
“But I’ll be on maternity leave. We’ll have to live on your salary. Who knows when—or if—I’ll go back to work? There’s child benefit, but…” Emily hesitated again.
“We’ll make it work. I’ll take on extra shifts. Unless… you want to terminate?” he asked directly.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “You’ll be working all hours, and I’ll be stuck at home with the kids. Life will just… slip away.”
“Whether we have two or three, time will slip just the same. Fine. Do we have time to think?”
“A little.”
“Then let’s not rush. We’ll talk again later—though I think you’ve already made your choice. Haven’t you?”
“How will we even fit in this tiny flat?” Emily glanced around their cramped two-bed, inherited from Daniel’s grandma.
“I’ll talk to my parents. They’ve got a three-bed between them. Dad suggested swapping when we had Sophie—they might agree.”
Emily bit her lip but said nothing.
As expected, her mother-in-law took it badly.
“She got pregnant on purpose to get a bigger place. She’s wrapped you around her finger, and you just let her!”
“Mum, it was *my* idea. Emily had nothing to do with it,” Daniel defended.
“So you’re the one robbing us in our old age? We’re settled here. Moving at our age? Ridiculous. But you only think of yourselves.”
“Mum—”
“Maybe Emily should just *end* it. Two kids are enough. More than enough, these days.”
Daniel stormed out.
When he returned, his expression told Emily everything. They avoided the subject after that. One moment, she warmed to the idea of a new baby; the next, she dreaded nappies, sleepless nights, and never having a moment to herself.
The deadline for a termination loomed, but she still couldn’t decide.
Then she dreamed of a little girl—around five—skipping through the house, humming, a little wicker basket in hand, like something from a fairy tale.
“What’s in there?” Emily asked.
The girl peered inside, then looked up—her eyes wide with sorrow.
Emily looked into the basket. It was empty.
At first, she was thrilled: a girl! But why the empty basket? The dream haunted her.
“Have you decided?” Daniel asked one night.
“…Yes. No.” She told him about the dream.
“It’s just a dream. It means we’ll have a little helper.”
*He’s so good,* she thought. *I’ll keep the baby. With Daniel, I’m not afraid.* Still, something nagged at her.
Another moment sealed it. At a friend’s birthday—their house luxurious, the hostess stunning—Sophie and Oliver had run wild. But their childless friend stopped Emily from scolding them.
“Let them play. The sound of children laughing… I’d have as many as God gave me, if I could.”
“There are options, aren’t there?” Emily asked gently.
“IVF? We’ve tried. I’d adopt tomorrow, but my husband still hopes… Maybe when he’s ready, we’ll take two—a boy and a girl.”
That decided it. Emily would keep the baby.
Then her mother-in-law arrived, cutting straight to it:
“So, did you end it?”
“Too late,” Emily lied, though the window hadn’t fully closed.
“Of course. Two wasn’t enough? Couldn’t you *prevent* it? Daniel’s working himself to the bone, and you just keep popping them out like—”
Emily snapped, “You had *one* and look like you birthed a football team.”
Her mother-in-law gasped, turned to Daniel. “You’ll let her speak to me like that?”
“You insulted her first,” he said flatly. “This is our choice.”
“Fine. Don’t expect my help.” The door slammed.
As if she’d ever helped.
A few days later, Emily went to the clinic to register. Autumn was setting in, leaves turning gold, rain tapping the pavement.
She imagined spring—giving birth, summer outings with the kids, the baby bonus. Then—
A group of teens blocked the path. She stepped aside—just as an e-scooter clipped her from behind.
She didn’t even scream before everything went black.
When Daniel arrived at the hospital, the doctor met him first.
“We couldn’t save the baby. Early stages—no complications.”
Emily woke later. “I’m sorry… It’s my fault. I doubted, I didn’t want—”
“Don’t,” Daniel cut in, gripping her hand. “That scooter idiot—maybe this’ll get those things banned. Just focus on getting better.”
But guilt clung. She remembered picking a name, whispering it, testing how it felt.
And that dream—the empty basket. A warning she’d ignored.
Autumn leaves spiraled as she left the hospital. Now, every e-scooter made her flinch. Headaches lingered, reminders of the loss.
Funny, how fear makes us hesitate—only for regret to follow when what we feared is gone.
Maybe the universe heard her doubts. Maybe it “helped.”
But nothing happens by accident.
