**Diary 14February**
It feels strange to write this down, but I need something to hold onto amid the turmoil.
My husband, Tom Harding, has been away on overseas contracts for the past five years. One season he was driving a lorry for a German logistics firm, the next he was doing renovation work in Poland. He went abroad for the money, hoping to give our two boys, Harry and Ben, the future we never thought we could secure here in England. We both understood that, staying put, wed barely get by.
Toms effort did bear fruit, though. Once a month he sent us parcels filled with tinned goods, rice, cooking oil, sweets and a modest transfer into my bank account so I could earn interest. By the time wed saved enough, we could afford a small flat for Harry, the elder.
Everything seemed to be falling into place until a few months ago I started feeling off. At first I chalked it up to the menopause, but the symptoms didnt match: I was gaining weight, craving sleep, eating constantly, and my mood swings were severe. A quick search online warned me that I might be pregnant. Pregnant at 45? I laughed it off, but the hometest showed two clear red lines.
I kept the news to myselfno sons, no sistersinlaw needed to hear about a sudden baby. What good would it do? Would they think Id lost my mind in my fifties? I wrapped myself in the warm layers of winter, hiding any hint of a belly beneath my coat.
The thought of bringing a child into my life terrified me. Im not a young woman anymore; I have grandchildren to spend time with, not another diaperchanging marathon. We simply dont have the finances for a third child, and Tom would have to head back abroad againsomething I cant face alone.
Doctors told me the pregnancy was already advanced and surgery would be risky, perhaps even dangerous for me. I tried to convince myself that everything would turn out alright. Maybe Tom would be delighted at the prospect of another little one? I decided to call him on Skype, but I kept the camera off, using only my voice.
Hello, Tom?
Its not Tom, its Emily.
Emily? Who are you?
Madam, who are you? Im Toms wife. He isnt here; hes still at work.
The call ended abruptly and tears rushed down my face. It felt as if the world had turned upside downmy husband could betray me anywhere, with anyone. I thought of filing for divorce, tossing Toms things out, never seeing or hearing him again.
Then a sliver of hope flickered inside me: perhaps the news would bring Tom back home. He was due to return in February for the boys birthdays, and I even dreamed of the three of us strolling through a park, Tom holding our babys hand while I held his.
Sure enough, on 14FebruaryValentines DayTom arrived. I prepared a modest romantic dinner, set candles, and turned on some soft music, hoping to create a calm atmosphere.
Tom, I have a surprise for you, I began, trying to steady my voice. Im pregnant. They say its a girl.
His face turned an angry shade of red. He slammed dishes onto the floor, hammered his fists on the table and shouted:
So while Im out there ploughing the fields, youre gallivanting with other men? And now you want to hang a bastard on my neck?
Tom, let me explain
Get out of my sight! he roared, pushing me so hard that I crashed bellyfirst against the edge of the table and fell.
He stormed out, grabbed his bag and slammed the door. I lay there, dizzy, spotting crimson splatters on the floor, my abdomen aching fiercely. I managed to dial an ambulance, feeling the babys imminent arrival.
When the paramedics arrived, I was already cradling a tiny, peaceful girl. She slept soundly, eyes closed, not a whimper.
Are you taking her with you, mum? the nurse asked gently.
No, I snapped. Take her away. I dont need her.
What?! she protested.
Take her, I say! This child has ruined my family. Maybe someone else will love her, but I certainly will not. Take her, I wont see her again!
Without a hint of remorse, I handed the newborn to the doctor. The checks showed no complications; the birth had been calm. After the ambulance pulled away, I tidied the house, took a quick shower and went straight to bed.
None of the boys know that I handed the baby away. I now walk to church every day, praying that my little girl grows up healthy and finds a loving family. I know I could never manage another round of motherhood. All I want now is for Tom to come home. Yet hes off back to Germany again, speaking only to the boys.
People may call me a monster, a selfish woman. But I chose my husband over a child. Only God can judge me.
Emily.
