My husband, James, has been away on work trips for the past five years. He drifts from one overseas job to another first hauling freight for a firm in the Netherlands, then doing repairs on a construction site in Spain. He goes abroad because we need the money. We have two boys, Tom and Harry, and we both want to give them the best possible future. We both understand that staying here in England wont give us what we need.
James is doing well enough overseas. Once a month he sends us parcels filled with canned food, rice, cooking oil, sweets, and other staples. He also tops up my savings account so I can earn interest at the bank. Over time we manage to save a decent sum, enough to buy a small flat for our eldest son.
Everything seems to be going fine, until a few months ago I start feeling something isnt right in my body. At first I think it might be menopause, but the symptoms dont match. Ive put on weight, Im constantly exhausted, Im eating a lot, and my mood swings wildly. All the online symptom checkers point to pregnancy. Pregnancy at fifty? I cant believe it, so I take a test. The stick shows two clear pink lines.
I keep the news to myself not to my sons, not to my sistersinlaw. Why would I tell them? Would they laugh at an older woman getting pregnant? Would they think Ive lost my mind? I decide to hide the pregnancy. Winter is setting in, so I wear thick coats and a big puffer, hiding my belly under the fabric.
I dont want to bring this child into the world. Some might say I have no soul, but I am fortyfive; Im not a young woman anymore. I already have two grownup sons and grandchildren, and I want to spend time with them, not be tied up in diapers and sleepless nights. On top of that, we cant afford a third child. James is unlikely to return abroad for another stint, and I cant manage alone.
Doctors tell me its already late in the pregnancy and any operation would be risky it could even harm me. So I try to convince myself that everything will be okay. Maybe James will be thrilled to hear were expecting again. I decide to call him on Skype and share the news, but I turn off the camera and only use the microphone.
Hello, James?
Its not James. Its Helen.
Helen? Who are you?
Maam, who are you? Im Jamess wife. Do you need something? Hes not home; hes still at work.
I hang up and break down in tears. Its the kind of moment when you feel a husband could be cheating anywhere, with anyone. I think about filing for divorce, throwing Jamess belongings out, never seeing or hearing him again.
Then a thin thread of hope stays with me maybe hell come back to the family when he learns about the baby. I know hes due to return in February because the boys birthdays give him a short leave. I even dream of the three of us strolling through a park, James holding our little girls hand on one side and me on the other.
On 14 February, Valentines Day, James finally arrives. Ive prepared a romantic dinner, set candles, turned on soft music I want a calm atmosphere.
James, I have a surprise for you. Im pregnant. They say its a girl.
You little devil! he shouts.
He turns bright red with anger, hurls plates to the floor, and slams his fists on the table.
While Im out there working like a horse, youre jumping from one man to another? And now you want to hang this bastard on my neck?
James, Ill explain
Get out, I dont want to see you! He pushes me so hard that I slam my belly against the sharp edge of the table and tumble backwards.
James storms out, grabs his bag and slams the door. Im dizzy, see red drops on the floor, my stomach aches terribly. I manage to find my phone and call an ambulance, feeling the baby about to be born any second.
When the paramedics arrive, Im already cradling our newborn daughter. She lies peacefully, not crying, sleeping soundly.
Alright, mum, are you taking her with you?
No. Take her away, I dont want her.
What do you mean?
Take her! Im saying it! This child has ruined my family! Maybe someone else will love her, but not me. Take her, I dont want to see her again!
Without a pang of conscience I hand the baby to the doctor. The doctors examine me at home, find no tears, the birth was uncomplicated. After the ambulance leaves, I tidy the house, take a quick shower and go to bed.
None of the boys know I gave the girl away. Every day I go to church and pray that my daughter grows up healthy and finds a loving family, because I know I couldnt raise her. I dont want to bear the weight of motherhood again. All I want is for James to come home. Hes gone back to work in Germany now, speaking only to our sons.
You can call me a madwoman, but Im choosing my husband over a child. Only God will judge me.