Page 19 of So Thrilled For You

she . . .’ It’s too awkward a sentence to finish and we all blush against the slate of the kitchen tiles.

‘It’s OK,’ I tell Nicki.

‘What is it?’ her mum asks. ‘Sorry love. I was just saying—’

‘So, what’s on the spreadsheet?’ Nicki cuts her off. ‘Is there anything for Dad to do other than eat the food before anyone arrives? I CAN SEE YOU DAD,’ she calls, and we all whip around to see him finger-deep in a cupcake in the kitchen.

‘I’m just taste-testing them,’ he replies with no guilt whatsoever. Nicki will no doubt put this all down to male entitlement or something, but I’m actually quite pleased the cupcakes are that irresistible.

‘Are they OK?’ I ask him. ‘Not too much rose water?’

He makes a perfection sign back, and takes that as a free pass to pick it up and stuff it into his mouth.

‘Please give him a job so I don’t kill him,’ Nicki whispers.

‘When you’re done taste-testing, do you mind setting up some black-out blinds for us?’ I ask him. ‘To go in the napping rooms?’

He gives a thumbs up with his mouth full of pink icing and Nicki rolls her eyes.

We all set to work, and it’s nice it being just Nicki and I while her parents create the napping stations.

‘Sorry I didn’t stuff the goody bags until now,’ I tell her, as we set up a mini factory line on the table.

Nicki’s holding up the personalised shower gel bottles and tilting her head. ‘No, it’s fine. I just . . . this is so much Charlotte. I’m sure nobody minds about goody bags . . . but, they’re lovely. Thank you.’

I hand her a party bag decorated with storks that’s ready to be finished off with the bottles. ‘It’s nothing. I love you. You’re having a baby. That’s wonderful. I told you, today is going to be perfect.’

She takes the bag, plops in the bottle and adds in an iced biscuit and a flourish of scented confetti. She won’t meet my eye. ‘Sorry about my mum just now.’

‘Honestly, it’s fine.’ I hand her another bag, wanting to keep up momentum so I don’t blab out my news. It’s way too early to tell anyone and it’s her day. I can’t overshadow it like that. Lauren once came back from her sister’s wedding and said a bloke had proposed during the reception. Can you imagine? I almost had to lie down when she told me.

‘Are you OK? With today? Everything . . .’ Nicki trails off.

I hand her two more bags. ‘I’m more than OK. I can’t wait.’

‘But with . . .’

Oh, Nicki. I’m fine. I’m so fine I’ve hand-baked sixty cupcakes. What does she want? Me to wear a flashingI’m finebadge at all times?

‘I’m honestly so, so, happy for you.’

And it’s true, mostly. I’ve not let my own fertility journey make me sour and unable to share in my friend’s happiness. I’ve been determined to have grace. When I tried manifesting a baby, part of The Secret is acting like your dream has already come true. So, I imagined I was as fertile as Queen bloody Victoria was, so, of course, I’d bedelightedwhenmy friends fell pregnant one by one, almost without trying. For the whole first year of us trying. ‘Congratulations, congratulations. Oh, well done, what magical news. Congratulations.’ I even managed to grit my teeth and grin through the accidentals. ‘Wow, unplanned, eh? Gosh, yes, it must be hard that you weren’t prepared to get pregnant right now. But happy accident, yes?’ I liked every photo scan that arrived on my feed – commenting ‘CONGRATULATIONS WHAT AMAZING NEWS. OMG WHAT A LUCKY BABY TO HAVE YOU AS PARENTS.’ One day it would be my turn. One day I’d get to post the scan. One day I’d complain about morning sickness or ask for advice online about the best maternity pillows.

One day, one day, one day.

Then, after two years of me trying and two failed IVF attempts, Lauren fell pregnant.

‘A bit of a shock,’ she confided, followed with, ‘Sorry Charlotte.’

I finally got jealous when an old school friend posted on Instagram about her miscarriage. Not even a post about her baby, but her traumatic miscarriage.

‘At least you know you can get pregnant,’ a dark voice whispered.

The Secret wasn’t working. Good karma wasn’t being returned. My ravaged body couldn’t keep up the pretence anymore.

I didn’t react to the post. I pretended it hadn’t happened. She won’t have noticed. She was being divulged with support, and people telling her how brave and inspirational she was. That’s when I realised I might be getting a little bit broken.And, the next week, when Nicki told the Little Women group chat that she and Matt were pregnant.

‘A little bit unexpected, as we’d only just started trying, but here we go . . .’

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