It’s a blob.
At least that’s what it looks like, but apparently that’s my baby—mine and Patrick’s.
I don’t know what to do. If my life was easier, or if Patrick was still here and we were together, I wouldn’t have a decision to make.
“It’s early.” The doctor points at the screen. “The next few weeks in particular will be hard as you recover. If you want to proceed with the pregnancy, then pain relief becomes more difficult. And you have surgery ahead as we’ll need to put surgical pins in both your legs and address your spinal fractures.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“I can’t help you make that decision. What I can do is tell you the risks involved, and it will be a harder road as far as pain goes. There’s no reason for this pregnancy not to work out, but it is higher risk as a result.” He smiles. “The things you do have on your side are the fact that you’re young and healthy otherwise. It really is up to you, Cassie. The medical team here will support you whatever your decision.”
“So will I,” Gran says, giving my hand a squeeze.
“I want to keep it. The only other family I have is Gran. I need … I need something to look forward to.”
“Then that’s what you’ll do.” Gran nods.
Maybe it should be a hard decision, but really, it’s the easiest decision in the world. The baby is my link to my past and no matter how much things hurt, I’ll always have a little piece of Patrick with me.
Of course, I have to tell him, but right now I have no way of contacting him. I don’t know his parents’ new number, and I have no idea where my mobile phone is. His number is programmed into it, so I don’t even know what that is.
For now, I’ll concentrate on getting through the next few weeks. I don’t even know if he’ll take it well, given the way things ended with him.
Is he with Vicki now?
Everything is such a mess.
11
CASSIE
It took three surgeries in the end. The initial one, where they put the pins in to realign my legs, and when one of my legs didn’t heal right, they had to re-break it and redo the surgery.
Thankfully, that worked.
There was also an operation for one of my spinal fractures where a plate and screws were put in place.
On top of that, there was a discussion about skin grafts as there’d been a fire in the car. It was put out quickly but because it took so long to extract me, I had burns on my back along with the scarring from the surgery.
But I made the choice not to do that—to at least delay it until after my baby was born.
Seven months after the accident, weighing in at seven pound, four ounces, Sophie Jane Warren was born.
I’m not even sure why I gave her Patrick’s mother’s nameas a middle name. Maybe it was to form a connection with a family she might never know.
But it felt like the right thing to do along with my mother’s middle name—Sophie.
With everything I’ve been through, the hormones after childbirth hit hard.
One minute I want to go to Patrick and throw it all in his face. The next, I want to bury my head under the covers and pretend he doesn’t exist.
But he does, and I see him in my daughter’s face.
Babies’ eyes might change colour, but Sophie’s are a piercing blue just like his and there’s a part of me that hopes they stay the same.
She’s so beautiful.
Whatever happens in her life, she’ll always have me.
