Self-Discovery

Seeing is Believing

The nurse applied the gel onto the flat plain of my stomach and pressed the ultrasound scanner into place, rolling it over my stomach. I felt butterflies as I realized there was just blackness on the screen. The nurse frowned. “Sometimes they can be hard to find at such an early stage.” We didn’t answer. We were too afraid of what might happen if we did.

“Ah!” She said at last, locating a tiny grey blob on the screen. “That’s them!” She pointed. “It’s too early to be able to decipher the sex yet, but in a few months’ time, you’ll be able to see your new son or daughter.” She beamed. “Congratulations Mr and Mrs Franca. Is it your first?”

We nodded.

“And well worth the wait,” Graeme added quietly, squeezing my hand. The nurse nodded.

“I’ll leave you for a few moments while I get the paperwork sorted out. Would you like a souvenir to show everyone else?” She printed a copy of the ultrasound scan and left us for a while. We held the photo gingerly, like it might disappear.

“You know,” I pushed hesitantly, “I was thinking of Annabelle for a girl. It was my grandmother’s name.” Graeme thought for a moment.

“Annabelle Franca,” he repeated, “I like it.” We smiled at each other for a moment.

“It’s the three of us from now on,” I said, and I meant it too.

“Fingers crossed,” said Graeme, and I detected a hint of sadness in his eyes.

I was five months pregnant. And it was the middle of winter. We had decided to find out the sex of the baby early, and we discovered that we were having a baby girl. Our Annabelle. Things were looking up. Graeme was home from work earlier, and now that I was getting increasingly critical about my appearance, he complemented me more. He treated me to romantic meals and surprise gifts including an eternity ring for my thirty-fifth birthday.

“We’ve been together for over eight years, and married for six,” he said, “What could possibly go wrong?”

One evening, Graeme seemed to be distracted. His hands shook and he barely looked at me. When I kissed him goodnight, he pulled away suddenly.

“Graeme, honey, what is it?”

“I-I…”

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what? Is your boss making you work over time again?”

“If only it were that simple.” I detected a hint of a smile.

“Graeme, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, us.” He gesticulated wildly. My heart stood still, and Annabelle kicked vehemently to remind me of her existence.

“Y-you’re dumping me.” The words seemed so childish.

“There’s someone else.” Each word hit me like a smack in the face.

“R-right. Well we can work this out.”

“No. No.” Graeme cradled his head in his hands. “I don’t love you anymore, Charlotte. God knows, I’ve tried, but I just can’t.”

“Who is she?” The words caught like fish hooks in my throat. “Who is she?”

“It doesn’t…”

“Do not ever tell me that it ‘doesn’t matter’ when I am carrying your child,” I shot at him. “Now tell me, who is she?”

“Her name is Candice. She’s American model.” I snorted.

“Get out.”

“Charlotte, It’s the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care if it’s the middle of fucking Christmas. Get. Out.”

“Charlotte…”

“If you walk out now, Graeme, I swear you’ll never have a part in Annabelle’s life.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He stood up. “Goodbye, Charlotte.”

“Piss off.”

I heard the front door slam and the car start. Damn it.

I turned over into the pillow and began to sob. Annabelle became still.

From that day forward, I vowed to put Annabelle first before everything and everyone. She was all I had left of my messed up life.