Accidents Happen

20. Monday

I prayed every moment of every day. I hadn't prayed in a long time. Before I left home I had continued to keep up the façade of being religious to my family, but the truth was I had stopped a long time before. When I had realised it was their God that had given me the wrong heart and had forced me to be friendless and alone for my entire life. It was their God who had failed me.

But now I turned to him and I prayed that he didn't take away this miracle. If there was any hope that the baby could survive despite all the odds, I had to cling to that. Even though I no longer felt sick, even though the tiredness had subsided. I had to believe.

Dan had insisted on cleaning my bed, and as vehemently as I refused to allow him to do so, he vehemently refused to allow me in there until it was sorted.

'I will ring Ben and have him come down here and restrain you. I'm not even kidding Ally.' And I knew he wasn't. Ben had rung me on Friday afternoon, probably excited about the baby, Dan had intercepted the call as I was in no state to speak to him. He told him what had happened and Ben had vowed to drop out of his tour. Dan refused to let him. And I was so grateful for that. Because having Ben miss out on his first headline tour because of me was something I didn't want to live with on top of this. So Dans threat was strong enough to let him clean my bed.

But I didn't sleep in it. I remained in Dans room without question. I didn't need to explain to him that I couldn't go back in there until I knew. We spent the nights taking it in turns to comfort each other. Because whatever pain I was feeling, he felt too. And I couldn't forget that he'd been more excited than I about this pregnancy. For his dreams were also slipping away.

'Come on then.' Dan said encouragingly as I left the house for the first time in three days to go to the hospital. The sun seemed to be shinning a little brighter, the cloud less prominent and gloomy. I took it as a sign and held my head high. I had to hold onto hope.

We didn't have to wait in the room full of happily pregnant women and their husbands. We were led right through into a private room, the lights dimmed, with a midwife, a sonographer, a scanner and a bed.

'How are you feeling Alison?' The midwife asked. She'd clearly read my notes judging by the tone of her voice. She knew what was coming. She must have done this a million times.

'I'm ok.' I shrugged. I was, physically. Mentally, who knew?

I was reminded by the clinic only two weeks ago but what now felt like a lifetime, laying on the bed being scanned. Only this time my mind had completely changed. Was that why this had happened? Because I'd been so intent on having a termination, it was Gods way of punishing me? Or was it because I had been lifting those boxes? Had I overdone it? Was it something I'd eaten? Was it my lack of understanding pregnancy that had lead me here?

The more time that went on as the sonographer scanned my pelvis, the worse I felt. It was taking too long. They wouldn't find it because it wasn't there. It was over. Dan must have guessed the same as he took my hand and held the back of it to his lips. Neither of us looked at the screen.

'Oh.' The midwife whispered. My heart picked up a beat. Why did she sound surprised?

'What?' I dared ask.

'There she is.' The sonographer smiled and tiled the screen so we could see. And for the first time I saw my baby. Clear as day in the black and white image. With a strong healthy heart beat and flailing arms.

Tears flowed even harder than before. Dan cried. The midwife cried. Somehow the baby was still there. Despite all that blood it had managed to cling on. A second miracle had happened.

It had taken nearly losing the baby to realise how connected to it I was. It was no longer some mysterious entity. I had seen it with my own eyes after grieving for three days. And now I knew how special it was. I wasn't just having the baby because it was my one shot, I wasn't just having the baby because I couldn't go through the termination. I wanted this baby. I wanted the tiny baby clothes, the mess, the joy of raising a human being. I wanted to be a Mom.

It signalled a change in mine and Dans relationship from my point of view. It wasn't just because we needed to be together because it was the right thing. Because this mistake had linked us together. We were living together for the baby. We needed to be together because apart, this baby wouldn't have a family. And it deserved a family. It deserved the world and I would give it to them.