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“And I promise you I will love it. I just don’t want it.”
The final sentence was little more than a whisper as she voiced the feeling that she wasn’t sure she should admit, even to Patrick. It felt shameful, even sinful. How could a mother not want her child? It was only a few months ago that she had been bewildered by another mother saying precisely the same thing.
“You don’t mean that, you can’t mean that,” she had said to Rhoda Mullucks. She hadn’t been able to comprehend how a mother so devoted to her children, how such a good mother, could possibly fail to welcome another child with joy and gratitude. But now she understood only too well and the dichotomy of loving, but not wanting, the baby that she was certain she was carrying was threatening to tear her apart.
“You mean can’t as in it’s impossible or can’t like that’s not allowed?” That had been Rhoda’s response and Shelagh found herself wondering if Patrick would be as incredulous as she had been, if she would have to ask him the same thing. He had yet to respond to her confession other than to give an almost imperceptible nod and she wasn’t sure what that meant. He stood clutching his coffee and appeared to be in a state of shock as he struggled to make sense of what his wife had just told him.
“Patrick, say something. Please,” she begged as tears welled in her eyes.
Her whispered plea jolted him into action. He dumped his coffee cup on the small table next to him and swept her into his arms enfolding her in the warmth of his embrace.
“Oh darling, you’re allowed to want and you’re allowed to not want. I think it would help us both if you can tell me why you feel that way but not now. For now just let me hold you.”
She relaxed into him, feeling the warmth of his chest on her cheek, hearing the steady beat of his heart. The cigarette and lighter fell to the ground as her hands clutched at the silky fabric of the back of his waistcoat. The tension within her found its release in a series of sobs that racked her body as she let her tears fall. Patrick held her in silence, one arm pulling her close and the other hand gently stroking her hair until the shaking reduced to a tremble and the tears dried. Shelagh drew in a final shuddering breath before pulling back to look into his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? You have nothing you need to apologise for.”
“Sorry for not being happy about this. Sorry for not allowing you to be happy. I know you’re trying to hide it but I can see that you’re anticipating the test result with excitement rather than dread. I wish I could feel the same.”
“I don’t deny that having another baby with you would be a joyous thing for me but I would never want that to be at the expense of your happiness. I love you and I love our family just as it is, I have never, and will never, need anything more than what we have right now. I told you once that our life just keeps expanding and there’s room in it for everything that matters. If we have to make room for another child then we’ll find a way to make it work, for the children we already have, for the child we will have, for me and for you.”
Shelagh closed her eyes and let out a breath before looking up at him once more.
“We will, won’t we.”
“Yes. We will. But for us to do that you have to help me understand why this is so hard for you. Come and talk to me.” Patrick took her hand and drew her inside leading her over to the sofa. He sat and pulled her down next to him taking her hands in his. “Tell me why you don’t want another baby.”
“It’s not that I don’t want another baby, Patrick. I would love to feel our baby grow beneath my heart and within it. I’d love to see their first smile, hear their first word, watch their first step but I’m so tired. I don’t have the energy to start again, to sit with them through the night when they can’t sleep, to coax them to eat when they won’t touch their vegetables, to deal with extra laundry, extra bath times, extra home work. I’d love another baby but I don’t want another child. I can’t give enough, I can’t be enough.”
Patrick squeezed her hands tightly before lifting them to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
“Oh my love, you have always been and will always be enough. For our family, for our children, for me.” He paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “Do you remember how I waited outside the delivery room on Christmas Eve while Rhoda Mullucks was in labour with baby Patrick?”
Shelagh gave him a quizzical nod and he continued.
“I didn’t intend to eavesdrop but I could hear you talking. You told her that she was the best, most generous, most resilient and most resourceful mother you’d ever seen and I remember thinking that you were describing yourself. You are a wonderful mother to our children Shelagh and you will be just as wonderful with a new baby but you’re not on your own and if it’s hard there are so many people who will help. I will help, and if I don’t see that you are struggling then you must show me. Tell me what you need and I’ll give you everything you ask for.”
Shelagh met his gaze with a wistful smile before dropping her eyes to their clasped hands.
“You told me that when I was expecting Teddy and you always do but this time you can’t because I’m asking for something that you can’t give. I’m asking for more time. Time to do all that needs to be done to keep this household functioning. Time to give each of our children the love and attention they deserve, time to comfort them, support them and help them grow to be the very best that they can be. Time care for our patients, our mothers and their babies. Time to spend with you, talking with you, planning with you, holding you, making love with you. And I know I’m being selfish but I also need time for myself, to be Shelagh, not Mum or Nurse or Mrs Turner, just Shelagh……”
“That’s not being selfish, it’s just what you deserve. You give so much of yourself to others it’s only right that you take time for yourself too. I can’t put more hours in the day but I can do more to make sure that every moment that you have is spent doing the things that are most important to you and that are most important for Shelagh and, baby or no baby, I will. I promise.”
Shelagh nodded and gave him a half smile before moving to lie in his arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder while his arm curled around her back to rest on her hip. She felt warm. She felt safe. Maybe, just maybe, she could do this, they could do this. Perhaps together they were big enough.
“I love you, Patrick.”
“I love you too, Shelagh. And that will always be enough.”