that had me choking on sobs and stumbling on my words. ‘What a ni-nightmare , Ted. I have to try to find her.’
‘You won’t be able to plan for this, honey,’ Ted said softly. ‘Whatever you decide, I’m right behind you . . . but you’ll need to go into this with your eyes open. You could find anything , and you won’t necessarily be able to prepare yourself before you do.’
‘I know,’ I said, but the very thought of that made my stomach lurch. ‘But . . . I don’t think I can avoid this. I think it’s the only way forward.’
I was positively shaking with the frustration of it all, but beneath the loudness of that emotion, I became aware for the first time of a quiet resolve. I’d press on towards the truth, and I’d do it on my own. Mum and Dad were apparently so desperate to keep their secrets that they would maintain the ridiculous lies even when my hurt and pain was right there on display in front of them.
I owed it to myself to at least try to find out the truth about my own life. I’d never defied them before, but this thingthat they had dumped into my lap was just big enough that I would have to take my life into my own hands for the very first time.
And as hurtful as it was, and as difficult as it all seemed, I had to be brave. I knew instinctively that leaving all of these issues about my origin unanswered would mean that I began my own journey as a mother with baggage that would cripple me.
I wanted to be a fun mum, a supportive mum, a secure mum.
I had to find some sense of closure and resolution. And I would; if not for myself, then for my baby.
EIGHT
Lilly—July 1973
Dear James,
I saw a doctor a few days ago so at last I know when our baby is coming. They didn’t give me a date, or talk to me at all, actually. But I heard the doctor tell Mrs Sullivan that if he or she hasn’t arrived by September, they will go right ahead and induce the labour.
It seems far too soon to me . . . to think that in just two months our baby will be born! I feel like I have only just found out that I am going to be a mother, because I spent so long trying to pretend this wasn’t happening. I’ve really only had these last few weeks to properly think about it and to figure out my own feelings. And the date does make sense, doesn’t it? I mean, after all, we saw each other last after the new year.
All is well with the baby and with me, so you don’t need to worry James, but the examination was very difficult. The doctor did the check-up right there in front of Mrs Sullivan, without even a privacy screen, just a flimsy gown that was too small anyway . . . it feels like everything is too small for me these days. And having myself on show like that was humiliating enough, but the worst came when he announced the due date. Mrs Sullivan said she was surprised how far along I was, and amazed that no one had noticed my pregnancy until now … then the doctor made jokes about how difficult it was to tell a cake belly from a baby belly in big girls like me.
And they laughed at me; they laughed with this filthy pleasure at their own superiority, as if I wasn’t even in the room or . . . I don’t know … it’s awful to even think it but maybe they laughed like that because I was in the room. I wanted to cry, but I also really did not want to be weak, and besides which I was scared that they’d be even more amused if I did show how upset I was. Instead, I just looked down at my bare naked belly and pictured our baby tucked up safe in there. After a while, the doctor used an ultrasound machine, and while I didn’t get to see very much because they wouldn’t let me see the screen, I heard him explaining it to Mrs Sullivan and so I know that our baby is healthy and strong and with all of the right body parts.
When I have let myself think of our baby, I have always thought of it as a boy . . . until I heard the thumping rhythm of its heartbeat during that ultrasound. I can’t explain why, but I somehow
‘You won’t be able to plan for this, honey,’ Ted said softly. ‘Whatever you decide, I’m right behind you . . . but you’ll need to go into this with your eyes open. You could find anything , and you won’t necessarily be able to prepare yourself before you do.’
‘I know,’ I said, but the very thought of that made my stomach lurch. ‘But . . . I don’t think I can avoid this. I think it’s the only way forward.’
I was positively shaking with the frustration of it all, but beneath the loudness of that emotion, I became aware for the first time of a quiet resolve. I’d press on towards the truth, and I’d do it on my own. Mum and Dad were apparently so desperate to keep their secrets that they would maintain the ridiculous lies even when my hurt and pain was right there on display in front of them.
I owed it to myself to at least try to find out the truth about my own life. I’d never defied them before, but this thingthat they had dumped into my lap was just big enough that I would have to take my life into my own hands for the very first time.
And as hurtful as it was, and as difficult as it all seemed, I had to be brave. I knew instinctively that leaving all of these issues about my origin unanswered would mean that I began my own journey as a mother with baggage that would cripple me.
I wanted to be a fun mum, a supportive mum, a secure mum.
I had to find some sense of closure and resolution. And I would; if not for myself, then for my baby.
EIGHT
Lilly—July 1973
Dear James,
I saw a doctor a few days ago so at last I know when our baby is coming. They didn’t give me a date, or talk to me at all, actually. But I heard the doctor tell Mrs Sullivan that if he or she hasn’t arrived by September, they will go right ahead and induce the labour.
It seems far too soon to me . . . to think that in just two months our baby will be born! I feel like I have only just found out that I am going to be a mother, because I spent so long trying to pretend this wasn’t happening. I’ve really only had these last few weeks to properly think about it and to figure out my own feelings. And the date does make sense, doesn’t it? I mean, after all, we saw each other last after the new year.
All is well with the baby and with me, so you don’t need to worry James, but the examination was very difficult. The doctor did the check-up right there in front of Mrs Sullivan, without even a privacy screen, just a flimsy gown that was too small anyway . . . it feels like everything is too small for me these days. And having myself on show like that was humiliating enough, but the worst came when he announced the due date. Mrs Sullivan said she was surprised how far along I was, and amazed that no one had noticed my pregnancy until now … then the doctor made jokes about how difficult it was to tell a cake belly from a baby belly in big girls like me.
And they laughed at me; they laughed with this filthy pleasure at their own superiority, as if I wasn’t even in the room or . . . I don’t know … it’s awful to even think it but maybe they laughed like that because I was in the room. I wanted to cry, but I also really did not want to be weak, and besides which I was scared that they’d be even more amused if I did show how upset I was. Instead, I just looked down at my bare naked belly and pictured our baby tucked up safe in there. After a while, the doctor used an ultrasound machine, and while I didn’t get to see very much because they wouldn’t let me see the screen, I heard him explaining it to Mrs Sullivan and so I know that our baby is healthy and strong and with all of the right body parts.
When I have let myself think of our baby, I have always thought of it as a boy . . . until I heard the thumping rhythm of its heartbeat during that ultrasound. I can’t explain why, but I somehow
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