And Baby Makes Two

Post-Partum Blues

I really loved being on the ward. It was painted pale yellow and the curtains had little bears all over them, so it was really cheerful. There were three other new mothers on the ward with me: Ellen, Anne and Sam, so there was lots going on all the time and lots of chat and laughter. It was almost like a party.

I told the others all about not knowing about the contractions and the doctor telling me I wasn’t due and my waters breaking and everything.

Unlike Hilary Spiggs, who’d wanted to know what planet I came from, they all sympathized. And then they told me their own horror stories. It was incredible anybody ever bothered to have a baby really.

Ellen had her second in John Lewis. She called him Lou.

“It was either that or Ladies’ Lingerie,” she said. “I didn’t think Ladies’ Lingerie would go down well when he went to school.” She laughed. “You have to be careful about names.”

I felt like I belonged to a club or something. Except for Anne and me, all the others had had babies before. Ellen had three.

“Really?” It was like doing your GCSEs. I couldn’t imagine going through it more than once. “You’ve already got three kids?”

“Boys,” said Ellen. She grinned. “We wanted a girl.”

“I’ve got two,” said Sam. “One of each.”

“I don’t think I’ll have any more,” I said.

The others all laughed.

“That’s what everybody says,” said Sam.

Sam was twenty-four. Next to me, she was the youngest.

She gave me a wink. “You’re just a beginner. I was about your age when I started. Trust me, you get used to it.”

“Wait till you’ve had as many as me,” said Ellen. “The only thing that scares me is where I’m going to put another one.”

Ellen and her husband had a two-bedroom house.

“My parents gave us the deposit as a wedding present,” said Ellen. “We’ve been there longer than you’ve been alive.”

Anne said, “That sounds like heaven to me. Me and Colin moved in with my mum when we got married, and we’re still there.”

“It’s awful living with your mother, isn’t it?” I said. I was feeling really happy now, lying there chatting with everyone like a real woman. Anne was right, I could hardly remember the pain. “Me and my boyfriend are going to get our own flat as soon as we can.”

“Lucky you,” said Anne. “The only way I’m likely to get away from my mum is if I kill her and they put me in prison.”

“Um… Solitary confinement…” said Ellen. “What wouldn’t I give…”

“We want something modern,” I said. “With a garden for the kids.” I’d only just thought of the garden, but I knew exactly what it looked like. It would have a pink Wendy house, just like the one I’d always wanted.

“We wanted a flat of our own,” said Anne. “But … well…” She made a face and shrugged. “You don’t always get what you want, do you?”

I started to say that you could get what you want as long as you didn’t give up, but they all shouted at once, “You get what you need!”

I didn’t know what they were on about, but I laughed along.

“It’s pretty much the same thing, though, isn’t it?” I asked when they’d finished shrieking.

Ellen winked. “Not always.”

It was like a scene from a movie: me and Hilary Spiggs, shoulder to elbow, staring down at the tiny infant in my arms. Her eyes were closed and she had her fists balled against her mouth. She had this wild punky hair and blotchy skin. There was something sort of froggy about her, but she was still really cute.

“Well, she doesn’t look like you,” said my mother. “She must take after her dad.”

This was a leading question. She thought that because I was weak and drowning in hormones I’d finally tell her who the father was. But of course I didn’t.

I said, “It’s incredible. She has little nails and everything.”

It really was incredible. I mean, I knew she’d have nails and eyebrows and stuff, but it was still pretty amazing that she did, when you saw them, and how tiny she was.

“What did you expect her to have?” asked my mother. “Claws and fangs?”

Leave it to Hilary Spiggs to ruin any good mood.

I sighed and ran a finger along one of the baby’s. It had little knuckles and lines and everything.

“You know what I mean. It’s like a magic trick.”

“The trick would be getting her to go back,” said cheery Nurse Hilary.

I rubbed the tiny knuckles. “I don’t want her to go back. I think she’s great.” Even though she wasn’t a boy.

I just hoped Les agreed. I’d sort of thought he’d secretly wanted a son. You know, because he’d never had a brother and his father had died when he was still at primary school. But she did look like him. This could help them bond.

Witch Woman straightened up.

“I told you Charlene can’t make it, didn’t I?”

I nodded. Charlene’s kids both had the flu.

“And Dara’s at that conference in Australia.”

My sister the international banker. I nodded again.

“But Charley’ll come as soon as he’s finished work.”

I wondered if Les already knew he had a daughter. You know, instinctively.

“That’s great.”

“So is there anything else you want me to bring when I come back?”

I rubbed some flaky skin from the baby’s eyebrow.

“Just my post.”

Anne came shuffling over to my bed with a box of chocolates her husband had brought her and her book of baby names. “Haven’t you chosen a name yet?”

I looked up from the list I was making. “No. I thought maybe I’d wait to see what she was like.”

She sat down on the edge of my bed with a groan. “I swear, the stitches are the worst part.” She picked up the pad that was beside me. “What’ve you got so far?”

“Nothing. The only name that really suits her is Banshee.” She cried so much that they were always taking her out of the ward so she didn’t set the others off.

Anne laughed, and Ellen, who was in the bed next to mine, joined in.

Anne flicked through her book. “What about Angelica…? Maia…? Winona…?”

I shook my head. No. No. No.

“What about Cheryl…? Or Amee…? Or Dana…?”

“They just don’t seem right.”

“Doesn’t her dad have any ideas?” asked Ellen.

I laughed. “You know men. He wants to name her after his mother.”

“And what’s that?” asked Anne.

How should I know? The only thing I’d ever heard Les call her was Mum.

“Mary,” I guessed.

“It’s a little old-fashioned…” said Anne.

“Is he coming tonight?” asked Ellen.

I said, “Who?”

“Your – the baby’s dad.”

I’d been hoping no one would notice that Les wasn’t around. I mean, they all had scads of visitors. Ellen’s husband came on his way to work, on his way home from work and after supper with the rest of the kids.

“No,” I said quickly. “No. He’s away. Working. In Manchester. He can’t get back till next week. But he phones me every day. You know, to make sure everything’s all right.”

“What a shame,” said Ellen. “I bet he was upset to miss his daughter’s birth.”

I nodded. But I didn’t want to keep on this subject for too long.

“I just know there’s a perfect name floating around somewhere in my mind,” I said thoughtfully. “From some film or a song…”

Anne passed the chocolates to Ellen.

“How about Laura?” tried Ellen. “That’s from a song.”

Not any song I knew.

“Renee,” suggested Anne. “That’s from a song, too.”

I didn’t know that one either.

The name situation was actually a little critical. I couldn’t get a birth certificate till she had a name. And if I didn’t get a birth certificate I would never get my Child Benefit. I was counting on my Child Benefit. Plus, my nan was making a special quilt for the baby. That’s what she did, my nan: make quilts. She started when she gave up smoking, so she’d have something to do, and she just kept going. She needed a name before she could finish the quilt. Plus, Les would be back soon. When I finally talked to him I wanted the baby to have a name. So she was real to him. So I could say, “I called her ——. What do you think?”

I bit into my orange cream. “What about Anastasia?”

Anne shook her head. “Too Disney.” She poked through the chocolates.

“Martina?”

I liked the sound of the “a” at the end. In my name it made me sound like a bar of soap, but in other names it made them sound foreign and romantic.

“Martina’s nice,” said Ellen.

“How about Simone?” asked Anne. “I’ve always liked Simone. It’s classy.”

“Simona…” I muttered. And then it hit me. Just like that. I snapped my fingers. “I’ve got it!” I cried. “It’s perfect!”

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” urged Ellen. “What is it?”

“Shinola!” I don’t know where I heard it, but now that I’d remembered it, I loved it. It was unusual and exotic. Shinola Spiggs wasn’t brilliant, but Spiggs wouldn’t be her last name forever. Soon her name would be Craft. Shinola Craft. Or maybe Shinola Craft-Spiggs. A double-barrelled name can be a help.

Ellen frowned. “Shinola? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before.”

“It almost sounds African,” said Anne.

It didn’t sound African to me. But it did sound like it would mean something nice like “beautiful morning” or “graceful princess” in whatever language it was.

“Perhaps you should try it out on your boyfriend when he rings.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s what I’ll do.”

My mum and Charley came around seven. They brought me a Big Mac and large fries, an apple pie and a chocolate milkshake. But no postcards except the one from Shanee.

Charley made a fool of himself gurgling at the baby, who decided to take a break from crying to gaze at him blindly. While I ate, the Spiggs yammered on about all the things I’d done when I was a baby. I was too tired to care. After they left I watched some telly till they turned the lights out.

Everything changed when the lights went out. If the ward was like a party in the day, at night it was like a party after everyone’s gone home and left you with the washing-up.

Maybe it was the star balloons Sam’s husband brought her that floated over her bed. I’d never thought about being an astronaut or anything like that, but all of a sudden I felt like I was drifting through space all by myself.

Space was cold and scary. It wasn’t like in films. There weren’t any stations where Han Solo and Chewbacca hung out. Or colonies where a starship might stop. There was just space. I thought about the postcard Hilary didn’t bring me from home. What if I never found anywhere to land? What if I just floated like this forever with no one to bring me flowers or balloons?

I almost started crying, but then I had another thought. It wasn’t that Les was ignoring me. It was that he was protecting me. If he had written and Hilary had seen his card she’d want to know who he was. She’d put two and two together and come up with Dad. Thank God he’d had enough sense to be careful. It made me feel better.

I went back to drifting through space.

There were all sorts of dangers out in space I’d never thought of before. I’d made all sorts of plans for me and the baby. And Les. I knew what our house looked like, and how we’d decorate our Christmas tree – stuff like that. But I hadn’t made any plans for what happened if those things didn’t happen.

The baby woke up. She was kind of whimpering.

I picked her up how they’d shown me.

“Shhh,” I whispered. “You’ll wake everyone up.”

She stopped whimpering and let out a scream that nearly made me deaf in one ear.

I rang for the nurse.

“It’s not really time for another feed,” said the nurse. “See if you can get her back to sleep.”

I couldn’t get her back to sleep. The more I tried, the louder she howled.

The nurse brought a bottle.

The baby didn’t want the bottle.

“Well, it’s a strange new world to her, isn’t it?” said the nurse.

To both of us, I felt like saying.

As soon as the nurse took her, she shut up.

“Maybe she doesn’t like me,” I whispered.

“Don’t be silly.” The nurse jiggled my baby in her arms. “Of course she likes you. You’re her mum.”

“I don’t like my mum.”

The nurse smiled at Shinola. “You want to go back to mummy now, don’t you?”

The baby started howling again.

“You see?” I said. “I told you.”

The nurse laughed. “I’ll just take her to the nursery. See if I can get her back to sleep.”

It was after she disappeared that I got really depressed. Everybody else was sleeping peacefully. Why shouldn’t they be? They all had homes with fathers to go back to. When they woke up in the morning their babies’ dads would all be there with fruit and messages from their friends and probably a stack of post.

I wished I’d asked Hilary to bring Mr Ted to the hospital. I could’ve told her it was for the baby. Mr Ted always slept with me, unless Les stayed the night. I really missed him. I sort of bunched up my pillow and pretended I was hugging a bald teddy bear with only one eye, but it wasn’t the same.

That’s when I started to cry. Just a little at first, but then I really started sobbing. All these thoughts were sort of rushing at my head. There were so many that I didn’t know what any of them were. Plus, I didn’t want to know. There was something really scary trying to ram itself through my brain. But I wasn’t going to let it in.

I tried to sing “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright” in my head but I couldn’t. I stopped thinking about anything and just let myself cry.

The nurse came back with the baby, but when she saw the state I was in she took her back to the nursery. Then she brought me a cup of tea.

“Feeling better?” she asked as I sipped.

I nodded.

“Almost everybody gets a little blue after they’ve had a baby,” she told me. “It’s the hormones.”

“Really?” I snuffled into a tissue. “That’s all?”

She fluffed up my pillows.

“That’s all,” she said cheerfully. She straightened out my blankets. “Once you get home and settled with your baby you’ll be as right as rain.”

She was one of the older nurses. She was always nice and very calm.

“You think so?”

She took my cup.

“I know so.”

I decided to believe her.