All day Amy knew something was wrong. She woke with a nagging, gnawing pain low in her belly, and her first thought was to put her hand over the area to protect the precious life growing inside her.
She and Angus had waited so long. They’d been trying for a baby for years, and while she’d done her best to be patient and trust that it would happen in God’s time, there’d been times when she’d felt as though her hoping was fruitless and she’d wondered if she’d have to accept that having children was not part of God’s plan for them at all.
All she’d ever wanted to be was a mother. Gregarious and outgoing, she was the perfect counterbalance to the quiet and steady Angus, the love of her life. Her only love, until the day she’d taken the pregnancy test and joy like nothing else enveloped her. They’d both cried tears of gratitude that night.
As the day wore on, the cramps grew worse, so she left work early and phoned Fleur, her best friend. She and Fleur had been inseparable since high school. Quiet but determined, Fleur had been an inspiration to Amy on many an occasion, not least because of her devoted faith. Fleur had cried on her shoulder when her first husband died in combat, and again, this time with joy, when she married her second just a few weeks earlier. She and Callum had only returned from their honeymoon two days ago.
“What should I do?” Amy asked. “I phoned the doctor, but she told me to take paracetamol and go in tomorrow if the pain continues.”
“And did she also say to rest?” Fleur asked pointedly.
Amy groaned and rolled her eyes. “Yes, she told me to rest. Fleur, do you think this is normal?”
Fleur’s hesitation gave Amy cause for concern. “I don’t remember ever having pain like that with Lucy or Will, but everybody’s different. It’s probably nothing. Do what the doctor says and take it easy. Would you like me to come over later? I can ask Callum to watch the children.”
Amy felt grateful for her friend, but she wanted to be alone, which was unusual. She hadn’t yet told Angus her concerns, as if voicing them to him could make her fears real. “I’ll be okay, but thanks.”
“It’s what I’m here for, Amy,” Fleur said gently. “Call me if you need me.”
Amy put the phone down and went to bed, her hand once again over her stomach. She tried to tell herself everything would be okay. The baby would be here in just under seven months and all would be well. Even Will and Lucy were excited. Amy was the children’s godmother and had been there for them all their lives, and they saw her baby as a little brother or sister.
Tired and cold, she pulled an extra blanket over her body as she curled up. She didn’t intend to sleep, just rest, but suddenly her lids grew heavy and she felt herself drifting off.
Sometime later she woke to Angus shaking her urgently. “Amy! Amy!”
She sat up. His face was as white as a sheet.
She followed his gaze. That’s when she saw the blood…
A few days later she sat with Angus in the consultant’s office at Salford General, her head on his shoulder. Not just her body, but her soul felt weary. Empty.
The consultant gave her a sympathetic smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes. Amy supposed she got used to scenes like this. It must be routine for her, whereas for Amy and Angus, their whole world had suddenly fallen apart.
“The good news,” the consultant said gently, “is that there’s no lasting damage and no need for any procedures.”
“So, we can try again?” Angus asked.
Amy heard the eagerness in his voice, lifted her head and looked at him. He’d spent the past few days tending to her and comforting her without any real mention of how the miscarriage had affected him. She felt as though she was moving through fog and had barely registered her own pain let alone her husband’s, but now she realised with a small jolt that he was hurting, too. And as was his pragmatic way, he would want to find a solution.
But did she want to try again? She hadn’t even accepted that this baby was gone. She’d refused to let Angus send any of the baby things back to the shops, although they hadn’t bought much as they’d wanted to wait until she was further along. Now she knew why.
She looked at the consultant, waiting for the answer. Her stomach plummeted as the woman frowned and seemed to be searching for the right words. “You’re in your early thirties, which of course makes complications more likely, and fertility can decline...”
“But many women have their first babies later these days,” Angus interjected.
The consultant nodded. “Yes, they do. And I’m not telling you not to try. You’re both healthy, but we’ve found indication that Amy may have something called endometriosis. Have you heard of this condition?”
Amy shook her head. As the consultant went on to explain that endometriosis was a condition that affects the womb lining and could both decrease her chances of falling pregnant and increase her chances of miscarriage, Amy felt the room begin to spin. On top of the knowledge that she’d lost her precious baby, this was too much to take in. She clutched Angus’s hand and only just made it through the rest of the appointment without running from the room.
Standing up as if to dismiss them, and smiling that not-quite smile, the consultant told them to return in a few months for a follow-up visit.
Amy mumbled goodbye and clung to Angus as they trudged out of the consulting room. On the drive home she was silent, staring out the window as the outside world flew past in a blur. She couldn’t gather her thoughts.
Angus was silent, too. She desperately wanted to reach out to him and tell him how much she loved him, but that horrible fog seemed to be stopping her. She went into the house and lay on the couch, staring at nothing.
Angus sat next to her, looking lost. Amy watched him, feeling strangely detached from the man she’d loved so much for so long. She mustered a smile as he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it.
He was a good man. Apart from the blight of not having children early on when they’d begun trying, their marriage had in many ways been perfect. They’d met at college and she’d been instantly attracted to his handsome face, quiet demeanour, and the practical way he got things done without fuss. She’d never expected him to be interested in her, with her loud laugh and inability to stay in one place for two minutes, but the moment their gazes had met they’d both known. When she found out he was a Christian, their fate was set.
He was her rock. She let him gather her into his arms and waited for the tears to come, but even his arms around her couldn’t shift the creeping numbness.
“It will be all right, Ames,” he whispered into her hair. “I know it will. God will get us through this.”
She closed her eyes. She wanted to believe him, she really did, but part of her just couldn’t. She felt like nothing would ever be all right ever again. Like this was some kind of cruel joke God was playing on them. It simply wasn’t fair.