When Richard got back from work he found me coiled up on the sofa crying my eyes out. He rushed over to me in a panic.
‘Eva. What is it? Is it the baby?’ he tried to touch my tummy but my coiled up legs were preventing him from reaching his target.
‘No,’ I said.
‘So, what is it?’ he asked, sounding relieved. I narrated the day’s event to him and when I finished he just sat there, mouth ajar, in disbelief.
‘Your mother actually said that to you?’ he asked again for the fourth time. I nodded. He begged me to be patient with her because she was in a world of loneliness at the moment. He felt she was lashing out due to the fact she was finding it hard adjusting to life without my father. This calmed me down and I stopped crying. Ten minutes later I fell asleep with my head on Richard’s lap.
A while later I woke up feeling a sense of dread. As soon as I opened my eyes I knew something was wrong. I looked around and realised Richard had brought me into the bedroom.
As I tried to get up I noticed my thighs where a bit sticky. Getting up I looked down at the bed and froze. I realised that I had bled quite badly on the sheets. I let out scream and Richard came rushing into the room.
‘Eva, what is it?’ he asked breathlessly.
I couldn’t speak so I just pointed at the bed and started to whimper. He immediately dialed the ambulance service. When he had called, he rushed over to me and tried to sit me down on the bed but I wouldn’t budge. Then suddenly I felt an excruciating bout of pain. The pain was unbearable. Richard carried me to the bathroom and took of my clothes while trying to calm me down at the same time.
He placed me in the shower and ran the water. I just stood there crying and wailing, I could see the fear in Richards’s eyes. A new bout of pain overwhelmed me so much that I crouched down and by the time I saw the fetus on the floor in the shower I fainted.
When I came to, I realised I was on a hospital bed. I looked round my surroundings in a daze. I could hear somebody crying in the room. I tried to focus on where the sound was coming from, but I couldn’t make out who or what was there. I still felt a bit woozy.
I whispered Richards’s name. The crying stopped and I heard him answer me.
‘Yes,’ he said, approaching the bed. He held my right hand and I gazed up at him. He looked as if he’d aged overnight.
He then burst out crying like a baby. I knew what had happened. He didn’t need to tell me, I could read it in his eyes.
Gently removing my hand from his, I rolled up into a ball and wished the ground would swallow me whole.
Seven minutes later, the doctor came round and explained to me that I’d had an incomplete miscarriage and some pregnancy tissue still remained inside the uterus. He said that I would need to have a dilatation and curettage operation due to the risk of an infection developing.
As he went even further into his explanation I zoned out. I couldn’t hear a word he was saying but I could see his mouth move. I glanced over at Richard. As he listened to the doctor, he looked downcast. The doctor reassured us that the miscarriage hadn’t caused any side effects and we should be able to have another child.
I was released from the hospital later that night. The drive home was a pitiful one. Neither Richard nor I said a word to each other. I did catch him though, through the course of the drive home, stealing a glance at me. But I acted as if I didn’t acknowledge him. I was lost in a world of my own.
I felt then that whatever heartache life brought my way after that day nothing would be as bad as the gift I’d lost. Unfortunately, I didn’t realise then that what life had in store for me in the upcoming years was beyond my wildest dreams.