Not My Daughter

‘Okay.’ Of course I’ll do it, but I feel nervous. Milly is like a stranger to me right now.

Claire and Simon leave a short while after that, because she’s clearly tired, and then Milly wakes up and after Matt checks in on her, he asks me to go up.

I walk up the stairs, my heart thudding with anxiety. This conversation feels important, and yet I have no idea what to say.

‘Hey, Milly.’ I stand in the doorway uncertainly; she is sitting up in bed, looking a little more like herself. Her face is pale, her hair brushed. She doesn’t respond.

I take a step in and then sit on the edge of the bed, although it feels a bit invasive.

‘How are you feeling?’ She shrugs, biting her lip. ‘This has got to be hard,’ I venture cautiously. ‘The emergency caesarean, everything so rushed and strange…’

‘Yes.’ Her voice hitches, and she takes a trembling breath. ‘Anna, I’m scared.’

‘Scared? Why?’

‘Because everything is different. I’m different.’

‘It’s natural to feel that, Milly—’

‘No, it isn’t. Not this.’ She shakes her head. ‘I feel like… like a fake.’ She turns her head away, as if she regrets admitting that much.

‘But you’re not a fake,’ I remind her, even though, to my own shame, it hurts a little to say that. ‘Alice is your daughter.’ It hurts even more to say that.

‘Have you held her?’

I hesitate. ‘Yes, a few times.’ She doesn’t answer, and I try to offer more reassurance. ‘Why don’t I go fetch her? You could have a little cuddle…’

‘No, she’s sleeping, and I’m tired.’ She looks away. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’

‘It will get better, Milly…’

‘Yes, I know it will.’ Her voice is little more than a monotone. ‘I’m going to rest now.’ It is clearly a dismissal.

‘How can I help? Can I get you a cup of tea, or—’

‘No, thank you.’ She sounds scarily polite. After a few uncertain seconds, I leave, feeling as if I’ve failed.

Downstairs, I reach for Alice, unzipping her snowsuit and wrapping her in a soft blanket, while Matt goes up to Milly. I walk up and down the room with her cradled against me, wondering how serious things are with Milly. Is this normal first-time jitters, or is it something more? And what is my part in it all?

After a little while, Alice starts to grizzle, so I take one of the bottles out of the fridge and warm it up. I manage to feed her half an ounce, although it takes an age, and then she falls asleep in my arms. I remain completely still, memorising her face, savouring the solid warmth of her in my arms. Then, after another hour or so, Matt finally comes downstairs.

‘Thanks, Anna.’

‘How is she?’

‘The same, really.’ He sighs and shakes his head. ‘I never expected this.’

‘No one did.’

‘I’m taking the rest of the week off, but then I have to go back to work.’ He frowns. ‘I didn’t schedule my paternity leave for another five weeks.’

I hesitate, then blurt, ‘I can help.’ Matt’s frown deepens. ‘If Milly needs me. I’m not working at the moment… I’m happy to come round and be a support to her, help with Alice.’ I smile, trying to sound casual but sincere, instead of how I feel, which is desperate. I want this. I want this more than I should.

‘That’s really kind of you, Anna…’

‘I don’t mind, Matt, if you think Milly needs some support. I really don’t mind.’

‘I’ll ask her,’ he says, and I wonder what Milly will say – and think. Will she agree? I have no idea, but as I gaze down at Alice’s tiny face, I do know how much I want her to. I want it more than I’ve wanted anything else in my life.