“Forty-one and still wanting a babyare you mad?” Richard shouted at Emily. “Most women your age are grandmothers! Have you even thought this through? I dont fancy dancing at her wedding with an IV drip in my arm!”
Emily had been married to Richard for twenty years, ever since she was a young university student. All this time, shed believed he was her rock, her protector. She never imagined hed turn against her.
The argument had erupted weeks agoover an unexpected late pregnancy. Richard was adamantly against it.
“Emily, have you lost your mind? Starting motherhood again at your age? Weve got three wonderful sonsJames is at university, and Oliver and Henry are finishing Year 8. Isnt that enough? What will people think? That weve gone round the bend?”
“But Richard, Ive always dreamed of a daughter,” Emily insisted. “If Gods given us this child, why shouldnt she be born?”
“And if its another boy, are we to keep trying for a girl?” Richard snapped.
“I know its a girl.”
Even the boys were unsupportive. The twins, Oliver and Henry, flatly refused to share their room. James, the eldest, frowned.
“Mum, arent you scared? What if something happens to you?”
“Ill be fine,” Emily reassured him. “Im not that old!”
This wasnt the first time. When she was pregnant with the twins, Richard had been just as reluctant. Money was tight then; they lived with his parents, and tensions ran high. But when the doctors revealed twins, everything changed. Richards mother helped with a house deposit, and the boys, to everyones surprise, were easy babies. James adored them, giving Emily much-needed rest.
Now, she hoped history would repeat itselfthat somehow, things would fall into place.
But by the third week, morning sickness struck hard. A manicurist for over a decade, Emily was used to the chemical tang of polishes and oilsnow, the mere sight of them made her ill. Medication didnt help. She could barely stand, let alone clean or cook.
Money grew tight without her income. Richard, a paramedic, worked double shifts. James took evening classes, picking up shifts at an electronics shop by day. The weight of disapproval pressed on Emilyfrom Richard, the boys, even her own parents.
“At your age, its reckless,” they said.
Neighbours whispered behind her back. She felt utterly alone.
At the second-trimester scan, the doctors face darkened as he studied the screen, murmuring numbers to the nurse. Emily lay frozen, barely breathing.
Finally, she broke the silence. “Doctoris it a boy or a girl?”
“Female. But theres a problem.”
Emilys heart lurched. “Whats wrong?”
“A neural tube defect. At twenty-three weeks, it should be closed. Hers isnt. Your daughter could be disabled.”
Emily burst into tears. “Cant you help her? Isnt there medicine?”
The doctor looked away.
Dazed, Emily stumbled out. The world blurred. She sat in her car and sobbed until her throat ached.
At home, Richard was heating leftovers in the microwave. The boys were out.
Now was the time.
“I had the scan today,” she began. “Its a girl. But theres a problema neural tube defect.”
Richard stiffened. “What did Dr. Harris say?”
“Nothing. They suggested termination. I refused. I cant do it, Richard. Shes still our daughter!”
“Youre insane,” he hissed. “Do you even understand what this means? Shell be disabledif she survives at all. Were going back tomorrow. Ill get the referral myself.”
“I wont go.”
“Then dont expect my support!” Richard stormed to the bedroom, yanked a duffel bag from the wardrobe, and started stuffing clothes inside.
“Richard, what are you doing?” Emily cried. “Youre leaving? Running away? Shes your daughter too!”
“I wont watch you destroy yourselfand that child.” He shoved past her and left.
Richards mother, Margaret, frowned as he appeared on her doorstep with his bag.
“Fallen out with Emily?”
“Fallen out? Im filing for divorce! Shes insisting on keeping a disabled childmy opinion means nothing!”
Margaret sighed. “A mother and child are one. The choice is hers. Come in, love. Lets have tea.”
Richard slumped into a chair. “Mum if youd known about Johns heart condition, would you still have had him?”
“Of course. I prayed every day for a miracle. Medicine wasnt what it is now. And ultrasounds arent foolproofhas Dr. Harris never made a mistake?”
Richard paused. Last year, their neighbours baby was misdiagnosed with a heart defect. The boy was born perfectly healthy. Complaints about Dr. Harris werent rare.
The next morning, Richard went to the clinic. The ultrasound room was lockedthe machine had broken again. A nurse rolled her eyes. “Third time this month. Bought cheap, now its always failing.”
Doubt gnawed at him. An old colleague worked at a private clinic. Hed take Emily there.
When he returned home, Emily was unpacking groceries.
“Get dressed,” he said shortly. “Were going private.”
The private clinic was efficient. The doctor studied the screen, then smiled.
“Everythings normal. Your daughters developing perfectly. Would you like to hear her heartbeat?”
They nodded. Richardto his own surpriseburst into tears.
Emily swallowed. “Our last scan showed a neural tube defect.”
“The tubes closed. Shes perfectly healthy.”
Relief crashed over them. Richard pulled Emily close, kissing her cheek.
Follow-up scans confirmed ittheir daughter was fine.
When little Charlotte was born, healthy and bright-eyed, even the doubters gathered at the hospital.
“She looks just like you,” Margaret murmured, cradling her granddaughter. Richard swelled with pride.
He was besotted, spending every free moment with her.
“Fancy watching telly with me?” Emily teased.
“Later,” Richard grinned, bouncing Charlotte in his arms. “Weve got important business, havent we, darling?”
Even the boys, whod sworn they wanted nothing to do with a baby, set up a rota for walks with their little sister. Emily trusted them completely.
Somehow, against all odds, everything had fallen into place.
