My husband David has been off on seasonal work for the past five years, hopping between a lorry job in the Netherlands and a bit of repairing in Belgium. He went abroad for the money we have two boys, James and Harry, and we wanted to give them the best possible future. Deep down we both knew that staying in the UK wouldnt get us far.
Luckily for David, his overseas stint paid off. Once a month hed send us parcels of tinned stuff, rice, cooking oil, sweets and the like. Hed also pop a few quid onto my savings account so I could earn a little interest. By the time wed saved enough, we could actually put a deposit down on a flat for the older lad.
Things seemed to be looking up. Then, a few months ago, I started feeling a bit off. My first thought was menopause, but that didnt quite fit. Id put on a few pounds, feel like a nap was a fulltime job, keep snacking, and my mood swung like a swing set. A quick browse of the internet suggested pregnancy. Pregnant at 45? I thought. I didnt want to believe it, so I did a test and the stick showed two clear red lines.
I didnt tell the boys or the inlaws a word about it. Why? To avoid them laughing at an old mum? To stop anyone saying Id gone senile in my golden years? I decided to keep it under wraps, especially since winter was on its way. I bundled up in my big coat, and no one could see the bump beneath the down.
Still, I wasnt keen on actually bringing a baby into the world. Some might say I have no soul, but at 45 Im not a spring chicken. I have grandsons now; Id rather spend time with them than chase after diapers. Besides, we have barely enough to keep two kids afloat, let alone a third. David could always head back overseas, but I cant manage alone.
The doctors warned me that it was already a lateterm pregnancy, making any operation risky and they couldnt guarantee it wouldnt harm me. So I tried to convince myself that everything would be fine. Maybe David would be thrilled at the prospect of a new addition? I rang him on Skype to share the news, but I kept the camera off and just used the mic.
Hello, Dave?
This isnt Dave. Its Helen.
Helen? Who are you?
Lady, who are you? Im Davids wife. Do you need something? Hes not home; hes stuck at work.
I slammed the phone down and cried my eyes out. Its the sort of thing that makes you think a husband could cheat anywhere, with anyone. I wanted to file for divorce on the spot, throw Davids things out the window, never see or hear him again.
Then a sliver of hope flickered: maybe hed return once he heard about the baby. I knew hed be back in February for the boys birthdays hed even gotten leave. I dreamed of the three of us strolling through a park, David holding our little girls hand with one, and me with the other.
Valentines Day, 14 February, he finally rolled in. Id set a romantic dinner: candles, soft music, the works hoping for a calm, sweet evening.
Dave, I have a surprise for you. Im pregnant. They say itll be a girl.
Bloody hell! he shouted.
He turned beetred with anger, flung plates onto the floor, and started pounding the table with his fists.
You think while Im out there working my arse off you can go gallivanting with other men? And now you want to hang this bastard on my neck?
Dave, let me explain
Get out! I dont want to see you! He shoved me hard enough that I crashed bellyfirst onto the sharp edge of the table and went down with a thud.
David stormed out, grabbed his bag, and slammed the door. I felt dizzy, saw red spots on the floor, and my stomach was pulling like a rubber band. I scrambled for my phone and dialled an ambulance, halfconvinced my baby was about to pop out any second.
When the paramedics arrived, I was already clutching a tiny, pink bundle. The baby girl lay calmly, not a whimper, sound asleep.
Right, Mum, youre going with us?
No. Take her away; I dont want her.
What do you mean?
Take her! Im done. This child has ruined my life. Maybe someone else will love her, but not me. Just take her; I never want to see her again!
Without a hint of remorse I handed the newborn to the doctor. The medical checkup showed no complications the delivery was smooth, and I was discharged after the ambulance left. I tidied the house, hopped into a quick shower, and went straight to bed.
None of the boys know I gave the baby away. Every day I walk to church and pray that my little Poppy grows up healthy and finds a family that loves her. I know I cant do this on my own; I dont want to relive the grind of motherhood again. All I want is for David to come home. Hes back in Germany now, chatting only with the boys.
Call me mad, but Id rather pick a husband than a child. God will be my judge.
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