Not What They Were Expecting

6

‘She’s mad. It’s much too early. You haven’t even had The Quickening yet,’ said James as he sat on the arm of the couch and stroked Rebecca’s hair.

When he’d got home Rebecca had seemed fine, although the house did smell alarmingly of bleach and furniture polish. She was sitting, feet tucked up under her, on her place on the couch for watching the telly. Then he realised the television was switched off.

‘Hey darling, how’d it go?’ he’d asked softly and the tears had started again.

The Quickening – the first fluttering feeling of the presence in your womb. When they’d first read about it on a pregnancy website James had said it sounded like the name of a horror movie, and it did feel a bit like that to Rebecca, a sign that something overwhelming was about to happen. Since then whenever she had hiccupped, or her stomach had rumbled, he’d say in a hammy voiceover voice ‘Was it gas? Or was it…THE QUICKENING?!’ and walk around stiff-legged and arms out like a zombie. This time he didn’t do the all-out production, deciding it might not quite be the time, but it raised a smile.

‘Der-derr-derrrrrr,’ managed Rebecca, blowing her nose.

This is what he’d worried about. James had wanted to be there for the first appointment but had been persuaded it wasn’t too big a deal and there’d be other times they’d need to take leave for things he couldn’t miss. He hadn’t minded too much, seeing the sense in that, but did a little bit feel like this was the precursor to years of missed school concerts and sports days. And now his wife had been sitting by herself for hours on end dealing with the stupid things this moron of a midwife had done, leaving her thinking she’d had a miscarriage or something.

‘I’m sorry. I’m just overreacting. It’s not that I think there’s anything wrong with the baby,’ Rebecca said. ‘It’s just she was…I feel like I’m going to be doing this on my own and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.’

‘I’m calling her boss now, and getting someone else to come around.’

‘Don’t. Don’t. You can’t. She’s all right, she’s just learning…’

‘I don’t want our baby used for a practice session.’

‘It’s not like that. And it’s not like I want that either. Do you think I’d let that happen?’

‘There must be a patient charter somewhere we can just quote and they’ll have to send someone more experienced. I’ll do it, you won’t have to speak to her again or anything.’

‘I said no! You’re not listening!’

‘You had such a good time you’ve been reduced to tears, is that it?’

‘Look, I’m fine.’

‘Clearly.’

Rebecca’s eyes narrowed and she started to say something but thought better of it. James put his hands behind his head and huffed slightly.

‘It just wasn’t what I expected, that’s all,’ Rebecca said, breaking the silence.

‘And I just want to make sure it goes all right for you. That you don’t get too stressed out.’

‘Yeah. Well.’

James walked across and tried to give his wife a hug, but she was too low down and ensconced in the corner of the bulky sofa. He settled for a kiss on the top of her head.

‘Let’s have a beer, eh?’ he said, massaging her shoulder gently. Her head leaned into his hand.

‘I shouldn’t, really…’