Life After The Villa

22. The Birth

Absolutely nothing can prepare you for a moment like this. I just feel numb, like all the life has drained out of me. And the only thing I can feel is my heart hanging heavy in my chest. This can't be true, but the doctor has checked and rechecked three times now. And no matter how many times I tell her that she must be wrong, it doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that today, on my eight month check up scan, the doctor has told us that one of my babies has died.

I reach for James' hand, not able to even gather the strength to look up at him. But I need him, I desperately need him right now. Because I don't know how to be strong, I'm trying to but I can't. I just don't know how to be strong at a time like this. And when our hands touch, and I feel him shaking, I realise that he doesn't know how to be strong either.

I finally look up at him, and I see the tears falling down his face, just like the tears that are falling down mine. "James," I start, the sound barely escaping my throat. And I don't know what else to say, my throat just goes dry and I physically can't say anything else. And he hugs me, in his large, tree trunk arms, and holds me tight as I sit there in the doctor's chair, looking at a screen of what should have been two healthy babies; but evidently, God had a different plan.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of sobbing and holding each other in our arms, we schedule a caesarean for tomorrow morning, following the doctor's advice. I want my other child to be born as soon as possible before something happens to them too. Losing one child is bad enough. 

And I stay in hospital all night, so they can monitor both mine and my baby's health, making sure there are no other changes. And James is by my side every single second of the night, holding my hand and refusing to let go. And I'm glad, because I honestly don't know what I'd do if he did let go. It feels like by holding my hand, everything will be alright, even though I know it's not.

"Vee," he starts, "it's not your fault." He tells me, breaking the silence between us. How does he do that? How does he always know exactly what I'm thinking?

"But it is." I tell him, the tears still rolling down my face, I don't think they've stopped since the doctor told us the news.

"How is this in any way your fault?" He asks, trying to make me feel better but failing miserably.

"I must have done something really terrible as a child, I don't know what but it must have been really bad for me to deserve this." I tell him between sobs.

"I know it makes no sense but sometimes bad things happen to the people who least deserve it." He says, yet again not making me feel any better.

"Maybe one bad thing, but my whole life is a series of bad things, James." I tell him, spitting the words out before I even have a chance to think about them. And I'm really crying now, my eyes puffy and red, snot coming out my nose and my tears soaking the hospital sheets. "My little brother died when I was six years old, I grew up having to take care of my mum because of her severe bipolar disorder, I got raped at eighteen, then got pregnant and became a teen mum, had to withdraw my application to university, and now I've lost a child. So tell me, what have I done to deserve this? Cause right now I'm paying for sins I don't remember."

He doesn't say anything, and for a few minutes we both just sit there in silence, taking in what I just said.  "Come here." He eventually says, not even attempting to say something to make me feel better anymore, but just comforting me with a hug instead. But right now, that's what I need most.

~*~

Ten minutes after the caesarean.

"He really is beautiful, Violetta." Asher tells me, holding my new son in her arms. "He has James' eyes."

"Good." I smile weakly, trying my very best to get my strength back. "The more James, the better."

I see James smiling next to me, and I know he knows there's no point in arguing against me. Because right now, in this moment, we're happy. Not as happy as we could have been, but happy nevertheless. We have a healthy baby, and I was so terrified after the news at the scan yesterday that maybe I wouldn't even get that. "Do you want to hear his name?" I ask, getting the attention of everyone in the room.

"What is it?" My dad asks, saying what everyone is thinking.

And every single person in the room looks at me expectantly. Mum, Dad, Alice, Asher, Taylor, Nonna, Sofia, Ellie, Amelia, Richard and even little Beth, even though she has no idea what's going on. "I'd like you all to meet Luca Christopher Williams."

And I think everyone in the room is smiling right now. My family's smiling because we've honored my brother, Luca. And James' family is smiling because we've also honoured his dad, Christopher. I look at my mum, and I genuinely can't read her expression. "Ma?" I question, wanting to know how she feels about my son being called Luca.

She looks at me with a small smile when I say her name, then looks down at Luca. "A beautiful name to match a beautiful boy." She finally says, and I'm so happy that she's not angry that I stole the name that was supposed to be reserved for my little brother.

"Right," the nurse announces, walking into the room and breaking up our family's little moment. "I hate to say it but it's time for the new mum here to get some rest. So everyone apart from the dad will have to leave."

"What about my daughter?" I ask the nurse instantly, wanting Sofia to stay.

"She can stay too, just for a little while." She says with a smile, then turns to the rest of my family, "everyone else needs to get out and give her some space and time to recover." She ushers them all out then follows behind them, closing the door behind her as she leaves.

"Do you like your new brother, Sofia?" James asks, as he places little baby Luca in my arms so I can hold him again.

"I love him." She smiles, looking up at him in my arms.

"Looks like you're neonata and he's neonato." James says confidently, not realising his mistake.

I laugh at him, surprising myself that I'd be capable of laughter, especially after losing my other baby boy. "Neonato means newborn. Ragazzino means baby boy."

"Well, ragazzino then." He corrects himself, completely lost with this whole Italian thing.

"Mama," Sofia starts, her voice soft. "I thought you said I was having two brothers."

I swallow the lump in my throat, not quite sure how I'm going to explain what happened, not yet at least. "I know." I finally say as James places his hand on my upper arm, silently comforting me. "But things changed. And now we just have the one."

She's silent for a couple of seconds, thinking. Then she finally says, "Well I think you should ask the doctor for another one. It's not fair."

And my throat dries up again, and I really don't know what to say. Luckily, James steps in and answers for me. "We're really lucky to have Luca, so we're happy."

And I completely agree. Of course I wish our other son survived - George Antonio Williams. But we could have lost Luca aswell and we didn't, so I'm so happy to have one surviving baby. Even though there will forever be a whole in my heart that could only be filled by George, at least I got to hold him in my arms before they took him away and signed the death certificate. Because holding his tiny little body in my arms made me realise how precious life is, and how quickly it can be taken away. Nobody's tomorrow is promised, so I'm going to love my two children, and my wonderful fiancé as if today might be my last. So that if something were to happen to me, there would be no doubt in their minds that I loved them.