Maybe Next Time

Chapter 17

I can tell there's something wrong with Joan a month later. Every time she sees me she goes to speak, only to change her mind a second later. I try to ask her what's wrong but she always tells me how nothing's wrong, and no amount of pressing her for a better answer works.

That is until one night when we're lying together in bed.

'Ellis. . . I need to tell you something. . .'

I turn my head to look at her cradled in my arms. 'You can tell me anything, my love,' I tell her.

I see her worry her bottom lip in the dim light of the room, before she takes hold of my hand and places it on her stomach underneath the covers. Her eyes then meet mine and I look back at her.

'No. . . you're not. . . are you?' I mutter.

She nods before a small smile appears on her face. 'I am,' she tells me. 'I guess that afternoon in the bedroom we didn't remember to use protection. . .'

Her words flaw me and I run a hand through my hair in slight disbelief. I can see my reaction worries her, as we haven't talked about starting a family anytime soon. We've only just become a couple after all. But a small, happy smile eventually appears on my face as I think of us bringing a beautiful baby into this world.

'That's wonderful news,' I tell her happily as my eyes once meet again hers. 'Though I guess it does mean we now have to work on turning the second bedroom into a nursery. . .'

Seeing our baby on the screen during each one of her pregnancy scans fills Joan and I with undeniable happiness. But despite our happiness upon seeing our baby grow ever bigger, the look on the doctor's face when we're sitting in his office after one of her check-ups quickly causes our smiles to disappear.

The middle-aged doctor looks at both of us from behind his glasses.'I know this is your first pregnancy,' he tells us. 'But I feel I have to be frank with you both.' He leans forward across his desk a little more. 'There is the possibility of complications during the birth.'

We both share a nervous look.

'What do you mean by complications?' I ask him while reaching for Joan's hand.

'Well, Joan, you're not gaining the weight you should be gaining while being pregnant,' he answers while fixing his gaze on her. 'And your BMI is also a lot lower than it should be.'

'Wha-what does that mean?' she asks him in a nervous voice.

The doctor gives her a levelled look. 'It means there is the possibility of you going into labour early and your baby being born premature. If this happens there is also a risk of you suffering substantial blood loss. . .'

Both of us share another look when we hear his words, wanting to make sure we're both hearing the same thing, and my grip on her hand quickly tightens.

'I don't say all of this to scare you,' the doctor tries to reassure us both when he sees our terrified faces. 'But it's my job to warn you about possible complications.'

We both simply nod numbly, though I can see we both don't believe what he's telling us is going to happen, especially from the look on Joan's face. I've heard of women giving birth to premature babies and they've both survived the birth and come out the other side multiple times.

But the doctor's words still plague my mind over those next several weeks. Joan is far better at keeping her hopes alive than I am. I'm finding it hard to comprehend the risks and I know she can tell how frightened I am, even though I try to put on a brave face for her. I can't help but think of the worst outcome and she eventually finds me crying quietly on the leather sofa one night.