Page 28 of Escape to the Country

I realised that I was just prolonging something that I really needed to tell him, so I made him his favourite meal of steak and chips, opened a good bottle of red and plucked up the courage to say that I couldn’t drink when he went to pour a glass for me.

‘Are you having to take antibiotics for something, babe?’

‘No Jamie, I’m… I’m…’ I struggled to put the sentence together.

‘Spit it out, babe. The football is on in a bit.’

‘I’m pregnant!’ I blurted.

Jamie laughed.

‘Nice one! But you can’t fool me!’ But when I didn’t smile, his grin dropped and he became deadly serious.

‘Tell me you’re joking,’ he whispered.

‘I’m not joking, Jamie. I’m pregnant.’ I was so relieved the words were out. It was amazing how just one short sentence was so life changing.

He stood and paced the room, holding his head. I stood up and tried to comfort him, but he gently pushed me away.

‘But you’re on the pill,’ he said.

I explained that it must have happened when I was ill.

‘This is just the worst news ever!’

That sentence hit me like a ton of bricks. He slammed out of the flat. I sat up until 2a.m. waiting for him to come back but by then I was shattered and fell into bed, exhaustion taking over my body. He still hadn’t returned by the time I had to go to work the next day.

Worried sick, I sent a text first thing which he replied to later that morning to say that he was staying with a friend for a few days and that he’d be in touch soon.

For the next few days, my emotions were on a rollercoaster, one minute seeing us playing happy families together once Jamie had got round to the idea of it, and then seeing me on my own with our baby. But in every picture, I was a mum. And I was a great mum and I loved my baby totally and unconditionally. Well, I’d had a wonderful teacher.

Being pregnant in those early days was exhausting, morning sickness lasting nearly all day and totally wearing me out, so I took as many opportunities as I could to nap. I was told that at ten weeks pregnant, it hopefully shouldn’t last too much longer, maybe a couple more weeks, all being well.

One morning, I woke to griping pains low down in my belly and I knew immediately that something was not right. As I looked down, the pure white Egyptian cotton sheets were a contrast to the red pool that was forming between my legs. I dragged myself to the toilet and wiped myself as much as I could. As I did this, I knew that there was something terribly wrong and I rang an ambulance. Once admitted to A&E, I was taken for a scan and told that it had gone. My baby had gone. But it wasn’t just my baby that had gone. It was all my dreams of the future. Our family.

I texted Jamie from the hospital and he arrived two hours later to take me home. He was quiet when he arrived. He didn’t comfort me. He kept his distance. The doctors and nurses reassured me that there was all probability that I could get pregnant again and that miscarriages were a natural part of life and that it happened to lots of ladies.

Once home, he changed the sheets on the bed and I couldn’t wait to sleep. To shut everything away. Jamie brought me a cup of tea later that evening and he sat on the bed and held my hand.

‘It’s probably for the best, Madison.’

Snatching my hand away, I turned over, my back now facing him. Tears streamed down my face. Something so precious to me had been lost. How could he possibly say that it was for the best? I’d lost something that I’d never be able to replace. My future with my baby.

Celine had been told that I had flu and was keeping away from the office. Refusing to get up for two days, I could tell that Jamie was starting to get pissed off with me, but I couldn’t seem to shake it off. I was overwhelmed by the sadness that I felt. On the third day, I realised that Jamie’s life was going on as normal and that he’d already forgotten why I was feeling so bad. It was almost like I’d just got a cold, in his eyes, and I’d be over it in a day or two. He clearly didn’t realise that this was something I would never get over. I made the effort to get dressed, and oh boy, was it an effort. He dropped me off at work on his way into town and I said that I’d see him later. We’d hardly spoken for days and as I got out of the car, he leaned over to me and called me back.

‘Madison. You really do have to pull yourself together, you know. It’s happened and it’s over. You have to move on.’

How could this man that I loved so deeply have no regard at all for my feelings? How could he tell me to just move on?

This wasn’t just a baby that hadn’t been born. This was a life that wasn’t going to be lived. My toddler not taking its first steps. Not reading to my child at bedtime. Not being able to take them to nursery and then to school. Not watching them go to their prom, not watching them get married.

Every magical moment that a parent goes through with their child had been stolen from me. Our future together, wiped out, and I couldn’t just forget that the way he obviously could.

I couldn’t concentrate on a thing at work and at lunchtime Celine said she thought it would be better if she sent me home in a taxi as I’d messed up the three tasks she’d asked me to do in the morning, and I still looked so dreadful. She said it was clearly the flu and she didn’t want everyone else to get it too.

When I arrived home, Jamie’s car was in his parking space. I decided that I’d go up and ask him to hold me in his arms. I knew that once he realised how I was feeling, now he was getting over the shock of the last few days, he’d be there for me. He would be my rock, to support me.

But when I got into the flat, I found him with Alisa.

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