‘We can differentiate foetal sex as early as twelve weeks, but it’s only ninety-five per cent accurate and depends on baby lying in the optimum position so that the full length of the spine is visible. Your little one seems to be obliging,’ she says glancing back to the monitor. ‘It’s called the nub theory, commonly referred to as “the angle of the dangle”,’ she goes on with a mischievous smile. ‘We need to locate the genital tubercle and determine the angle. If the nub is angled upwards it can indicate a male foetus. If it’s pointing down towards the spine, then it indicates a female. As I say, it is only about ninety-five per cent accurate, so if you would rather not know, wait until your next scan to be sure.’
DoI want to know? I will love this child completely, whether it’s a girl or a boy. I already do. Would Jack want to know, though? I’m sure he would and that he wouldn’t be disappointed whichever sex it was. Would it help Evie knowing it’s not just a baby but a little brother or sister? She could help choose names and the decoration for the nursery, which would be a way of involving her.
I take a deep breath and nod nervously.
‘Sure?’ she asks.
‘Sure.’ I nod more firmly.
‘Okay. See here?’ She points to the monitor. ‘The nub is angled upwards.’
‘A boy?’ I ask, my mind reeling as my thoughts fly to Kai. As pleased as I am, my chest constricts as I imagine he will think I’m trying to replace him.
‘I’m ninety-five per cent certain,’ she reminds me. ‘So how old is your first?’ she continues chattily, and I feel my own heart stall.
‘He would have been six next birthday,’ I whisper, tears sliding from my eyes despite my best efforts to stop them.
She falls silent for a moment, then, ‘I’m sorry,’ she says, and gently takes hold of my hand. ‘I understand your grief,’ she adds quietly. ‘I lost a child too. A girl.’
I snap my gaze towards her.
‘I would be lying if I said that the pain will go away. It never does, but it gets more bearable over time. You’ll never forget your little boy,’ she goes on, as if promising me. ‘He will always be with you, but now you have every reason to look forward to the future.’
I stare at her in wonder. It was as if she knew exactly what I needed to hear. Up until that moment I hadn’t really dared allow myself to think I should have a future.
NINE
As Jack heads off to make sure our car park ticket isn’t about to run out, I glance around the parent-and-baby section of the department store. My gaze lands on a Jellycat Louie Lion, the exact same snuggle toy Kai had treasured, and I feel a wave of grief crash violently through me. I shouldn’t be shopping for baby things. It’s too soon. Jack had smiled reassuringly when I said I thought we might be tempting fate. ‘We’re browsing,’ he said, wrapping an arm around me and drawing me close. ‘I don’t think the gods of fate are going to be frowning down on us.’ I can’t help thinking it might be bad luck, though, fate having already been so unkind to us both.
It was Jack’s idea to come into town and ‘check out the baby stores’. I didn’t have the heart to say no. He looked so shocked when I told him I was pregnant, my heart plummeted. But then such a delighted smile curved his mouth, it warmed me right down to my toes. Now, he’s like a kid at Christmas. Evie, though, clearly isn’t exactly ecstatic.
I so wish Jack hadn’t told her our news before we’d had a chance to sit down and talk to her together. She will still be traumatised over the loss of her mother. Losing her the way she had meant she had no grave to visit, nowhere to focus her grief.All she had were unanswered questions. When I met her, she seemed so lost and withdrawn my heart bled for her. Having lost my own mum in my early twenties, I knew to a degree how she felt. I was aware that I could never replace her mother, but I’d hoped when she and Jack moved in with me that I could become a friend to her, that she might feel able to talk to me. Up until recently, I thought we were bonding. We’d watched TV together, bingeing on the latest hot drama series. We’d been shopping together. She’d even said I had great taste in clothes, borrowing one or two of my sweatshirts. She hadn’t seemed to mind that Jack and I were together, though naturally I worried she might. Now there’s a divide opening up between us and I have no idea how to cross it. She seems not to even want to talk to me, other than monosyllabically. Perhaps it’s just her age. At sixteen, her body will be going through all sorts of physical and mental changes. Learning that Jack and I are having a child together won’t have helped her emotional security.
I debate for a second and then decide to call her. Her phone rings out, and guessing she’s not going to pick up, I’m about to end the call when she answers with a wary ‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Evie. It’s just me,’ I say, making sure to keep my tone light.
‘I know,’ she says blandly.
Of course she would. My name would have come up. ‘I’m just calling to check you’re okay.’
‘Fine,’ she says with a sigh, as if she has no idea why I would think she wouldn’t be.
‘We decided to get some lunch while we’re out,’ I push on. ‘There’s pizza in the freezer if you fancy it.’
‘Oh, right, cool,’ she says with a little more enthusiasm.
‘Will you be there when we get back?’ I ask, hoping she will be. I need to talk to her, try to establish how she feels about the prospect of a new baby brother.
‘No. I’m going round to Immy’s. Catch you later,’ she says, and ends the call.
Well, that was short and sweet. I sigh inwardly, then, not wanting to loiter here any longer, start towards the store exit to meet Jack coming back. On my way, I see someone I recognise. Melanie, the nurse who’d done my ultrasound, I realise, giving her a wave as she notices me.
‘Mrs Keenan.’ She smiles as I approach her. ‘How are you?’
‘Kara,’ I remind her. ‘I’m fine, thank you. Growing.’ Glancing down, I press a hand to my small bump. ‘Although I haven’t felt him kicking yet,’ I confide. She’s the sort of person who’s easy to talk to. Once I’d told her of my circumstances, I’d found myself opening up to her, telling her about Jack, why he wasn’t with me at the hospital and about his tragic loss. She’d been so sympathetic. I’d felt a lot better coming out of the scan room than I had going in.
‘It’s early days,’ she reminds me. ‘You’re about fifteen weeks now as I recall. You’ll feel his first movements at around sixteen weeks and he has a strong heartbeat, remember? We saw it on the monitor. There’s nothing to worry about.’
