But I can’t think that way now. Thankfully, the anaesthetist has finished his work. ‘Count back to ten for me, Anna,’ he says and I swallow and nod, trying to keep back the icy tide of panic that doesn’t make sense. It’s just a memory. That’s all it is.
‘Ten, nine…’ I begin in a trembling voice, and that’s all I remember.
* * *
I wake up in a dimly lit recovery room, feeling achey and disorientated. I put my hand on my belly, expecting some difference, but it feels just the same, a little bloated from the hormones. My mouth is dry and when I sit up the world rushes around me, a fuzzy kaleidoscope of muted colour. I sink back on the pillows and wait for my mind to clear. It’s just the residual anaesthetic making me feel woozy. I remember it from before, and so does my body.
And it’s because of the before, or maybe just all the excess hormones zooming around in my body, that a tidal wave of grief suddenly rises up in me and I have to stifle a sob.
‘Anna?’ A nurse appears at the door, her head haloed by light from the hallway. ‘Are you awake?’
I press my fist to my mouth to keep back the guttural sound I can’t believe I feel like making. ‘Yes,’ I finally manage to croak. ‘I’m fine. A bit groggy.’
‘Let me bring you a cup of tea.’
By the time she returns, I have regained my composure. I am sitting up on the chaise, the thin blanket that was covering me folded by my feet. I take the tea with murmured thanks, and sip the hot, over-sugared liquid, grateful to ease the dryness in my mouth.
‘Was it… successful?’
‘Yes, everything went perfectly.’ She doesn’t offer any more information, and I realise that’s intentional. My part is over. I am not privy to anything more unless Milly and Matt choose to tell me. I signed the documents; I knew that. Yet in this moment it stings a little. ‘You can leave in half an hour or so,’ she continues. ‘Assuming you feel well enough.’
‘I will.’ I want to leave now. Now that it’s over, I want nothing more than to be in the cosy familiarity of my own flat, curled up on my own bed, with Winnie purring as she snuggles against my stomach. In a strange and unsettling way, I want to forget this ever happened. I feel raw and wounded when I thought I would be feeling excited for Milly. I don’t understand myself at all.
‘And when the person who is driv
ing you has arrived,’ the nurse finishes, and I look at her, surprised.
‘Is Milly not here? What time is it?’
‘Quarter to four.’
She should be here by now, and I feel a prickling of unease. Where is she? This isn’t something she would forget, or even be late to.
I sip my tea, trying to remain calm and positive as my stomach cramps, apparently a normal occurrence after the procedure. When I go to the loo, I see a bit of blood, which is also normal, but it freaks me out all the same. It all feels a bit too familiar. And Milly still isn’t here.
Then, about half an hour later, the nurse appears in my room again. ‘Your lift is here,’ she says, smiling, and relief pulses through me.
‘Milly…?’
Her smile falters. ‘No, not Milly. He says his name is… Jack? Jack Foster?’
Jack? Jack, Matt’s brother, Milly and Matt’s sperm donor, whom I’ve only met once? I feel completely gobsmacked, and oddly vulnerable.
‘Is that okay?’ the nurse asks, and I’m not sure what to say.
‘Yes, yes,’ I finally answer. ‘Please tell him I’ll come out to the waiting room in a bit.’
After she leaves, I take a few minutes to check my appearance, brush my hair and wash my face. I still feel a bit groggy, my belly tender. And I have no idea what to say to Jack.
‘How are you doing?’ he asks, standing up with alacrity when I venture out to the waiting room. The brochure I’d been given advised comfy clothes for the procedure and aftercare, so I am dressed in a hoodie and yoga pants, which in this moment feel like pyjamas.
‘I’m okay.’ I shake my head, feeling entirely discomfited. ‘I’m sorry, but I thought Milly was coming…?’
‘I know, I’m sorry about that, and she is too, of course. Her school had an Ofsted inspection called at three this afternoon. They’re coming to inspect it tomorrow.’ He gives a grimacing shrug and I put on my coat.
‘Right.’ I know a little bit about the inspections from Milly – how important they are, how everyone has to hustle to get their classrooms in shape, all the paperwork ready. I understand, but I still feel disappointed, a little bit hurt. ‘Bad timing, I suppose.’
‘Good thing I’m here.’ He tilts his head, giving me a rather charming smile. It affects me, because he is undeniably attractive, but I also feel uneasy. I don’t know this man, and yet… we are, in a very roundabout way, going to be having a baby together. I tell myself not to think that way. It’s just too weird.