To see other chapters click here<\/a><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n The Church Spire<\/p>\n I have often seen that church\u2019s spire from my window but until this morning I\u2019d never heard its bells. Everything right now feels like it\u2019s in slow motion. We walk from the house, across the road, to the car and as we get there a couple pass us pushing a child in a buggy. I get in the car as you lean over the passenger seat organising your bags, a car passes too close, too fast. I feel its danger. \u201cWhat would happen if they lost control?\u201d I say, but you\u2019re not sure what I\u2019m going on about. We set off, the first two speed bumps hurt you, so, I slow down, and on these quiet Sunday morning roads, we make our way.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n A Few Days Earlier<\/b><\/p>\n Driving home I call to see if you\u2019re still at the house, you ask me how long I\u2019ll be, \u201cI\u2019ll be there in 5 to 10 minutes\u201d. Normally when I come home, I call out to say hello but this time I don\u2019t. There\u2019s just silence and as I get to the top of the stairs, you\u2019re sitting on the sofa in the dining room, cigarette in hand. I want to greet you with a kiss, but your poise says not to. You nod towards the table. I\u2019m not sure what I should be looking at, but as I scan the clutter, I see a pregnancy test showing a positive result. I ask you how you feel, and you say, \u201cNothing\u201d.<\/p>\n I walk towards you to hug you, but as I bend down, I knock the ashtray over you. As I clear it up, I ask if you feel this was symbolic, you half laugh, \u201cYes, it\u2019s a fucking mess\u201d.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n 200 Yearning Texts<\/p>\n Over Christmas, you\u2019d gone on holiday with a friend and somewhere amid 200 yearning text messages, you\u2019d asked me to, \u201ccome inside you\u201d upon your return. To play, as you put it \u201cRussian Roulette between the sheets.\u201d So, after picking you up, we made our way to yours, handed each other the revolver, clicked back the hammer, and pulled hard on the trigger.<\/p>\n In the logical madness of passion, I wanted you to fall pregnant. A month before you\u2019d previously come on late and told me you\u2019d started to get used to the idea. But this time, you didn\u2019t think it\u2019d be possible anyway as you were still on, so we spun the chamber without fear. The next day I came inside you again, but this time you looked shocked and scared as if I\u2019d betrayed you, so from then on, we returned to playing safe. For some who lose at Russian Roulette, when the bullet hits the brain, there\u2019s probably a moment when they think the gun didn\u2019t go off.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n Unspoken Words<\/strong><\/p>\n As the month drew on you felt as if you\u2019d ovulated, but then started feeling smothered and sensing that, I felt scared. You went off sex and I felt even more insecure. Up till then, I thought we\u2019d be together for a long time, but these changes said otherwise. You started to feel pain in your groin and womb, and your breasts felt tender, but still, we both reassured each other your period was late due to stress. In my gut though, I knew.<\/p>\n When we spoke about it and you said you hoped you weren\u2019t pregnant, I asked if you were thinking about an abortion and when you said you were, my heart sank. You made it clear, you didn\u2019t want a child now, but I also heard those extra unspoken words, \u201ca child with you.\u201d<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n \n Blindsided<\/strong><\/p>\n Later in the evening, after the pregnancy test, you searched the internet for information about terminating a pregnancy and came across the Marie Stopes website. They had a 24-hour, 365 days a year, telephone line which you called. Within minutes you\u2019d booked an appointment for the following day. Several times as you browsed the website the page just closed without any obvious reason. I\u2019d never seen it do that before, so, took it as a sign we shouldn\u2019t go ahead, but you didn\u2019t see it that way at all. You asked me what I wanted, so, I told you I didn\u2019t want to terminate \u201cit\u201d. But I loved you so would support whatever your decision was. Then, as we got into bed, I kissed each of your breasts and your stomach. You asked me what I was doing. I said I was kissing \u201cit\u201d goodbye. Unsurprisingly, you told me you found it disturbing and I wasn\u2019t helping matters, especially given you were only just keeping it together and you started to cry. Of course, I look back at this moment from the future and see what I did as cruel and cringe, but even now I kind of understand us both simultaneously, these were desperate times and my love for you was still based on a love for myself. We both saw a future beckoning and neither of us wanted it.<\/p>\n It was clear we had very different objectives and instead of us both taking on board that maybe we also shared some common ground we took our positions and saw each other as a little blindsided. You turned your back and went to sleep, but in the night you reached out.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n The Next Day<\/b><\/p>\n The system at the Marie Stope\u2019s Centre did not lend itself to anonymity. Just like any doctor\u2019s waiting area, we were all on show to each other. First, we were called in to pay the consultation fee, then a doctor asked what the reason for the termination was. My partner said she felt, \u201cphysically and emotionally unfit to go through a pregnancy\u201d. The doctor wrote the words down without question. Counselling pre-and-post-termination was offered, but my partner opted for the latter only.<\/p>\n Even though it was me who\u2019d pointed out the centre\u2019s 24-hour telephone line and therefore instigated the \u201cfast track\u201d approach in the first place, I justified it to myself because I didn\u2019t want to be part of a process that terminated a foetus with a functioning nervous system. If we delayed further, it may have been a matter of weeks before the termination could be arranged. Still, I hadn\u2019t quite expected it to be within 12 hours. Nervous system or not, week 1, 8 or 28 it still felt like a possible human to me.<\/p>\n The next job for the doctor was to scan the womb using an ultrasonic device. I\u2019d had a number of children before, so, I was used to seeing foetuses of 14 weeks upwards, and I was dreading seeing anything that resembled those previous images. My partner asked me if looking would be a good idea. I felt that if I saw a human-like figure I would have had to ask my partner to re-evaluate the situation. However, what the doctor zoomed in on was a small floating dot. To me, this half-formed shape that floated in silence wasn\u2019t a human-shaped embryo, nor was it a connected nervous system, but instead a mass of potential. I convinced myself my future child was not going to feel anything, but I was still haunted by whether it had a soul or not. I looked at my partner and reassured her that what was there wasn\u2019t going to suffer physically. But I didn\u2019t know, not really.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n After the scan, my partner had to provide a urine sample, but she hadn\u2019t drunk anything for hours, and as she may have had to have a general anaesthetic, the \u2018nil by mouth\u2019 rule had to be followed. The consequence of that was there was a very slim chance of her peeing. We both went into the disabled loo together, as this had been the nature of our relationship, very intimate, very \u2018get to know who you really are\u2019. Finally, she managed to fill the file.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n Once the initial assessment was completed there was a short walk from one building to another a few streets away. My partner referred to the street as, \u201cTermination Terrace,\u201d where all the neighbours watched the comings and goings. As we got to the building there were several doors to choose from, I opted for the wrong one, whereas my partner got it right the first time. Once in, the same people who\u2019d gradually left the previous building were also waiting. It was like a scene from Kafka\u2019s \u201cThe Trial\u201d. Eventually, the time came for my partner to go upstairs, we kissed goodbye, told each other we loved each other, and then, once she was gone, I was told to come back at 4 p.m.<\/p>\n I walked to the front door where another man was going out too. As the door closed behind us, he adjusted his coat, I sighed and said, \u201cIt\u2019s an awful thing this.\u201d He looked at me and nodded, \u201cYes, it is\u201d.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you want to come for a cup of tea with me?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n He nodded again, and said, \u201cThat\u2019s a good idea\u201d.<\/p>\n We went for our tea, exchanged our stories, and through our time together \u2013 one of those immediate connection meetings \u2013 I felt and reported to him my pangs of awful loss and wondered at which moment the termination was taking place. He said he was wondering the same.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n Shortly after returning at 4 pm, my partner emerged, a little bit shaky and smiling as usual. The journey home was gentle.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n Later that evening my friend Denise knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to come to a party. I said I couldn\u2019t because my partner was ill. She looked at me with a concerned look and said, \u201cDon\u2019t forget your friends.\u201d<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n The next day my sons came around to play and understandably my partner didn\u2019t want to join in. To her the place was a mess, nothing was organised in a good way for her and when we\u2019d been out a bit earlier she felt the crowds too threatening, and worried about being bumped into. At that point, she snapped at me that I wasn\u2019t paying attention to her needs.<\/p>\n After my kids had gone back to their mum\u2019s and she was still clearing up I went into a room away from her, but a bit later she came up behind me and put her arms around me and sobbed. She said sorry for having a go so I told her it was alright, that I understood and hadn\u2019t taken it personally. We went into another room and sat together, and for the next hour or so talked and broke into crying fits as the feelings of grief began to strike home. No matter how logical the justification, the doubts, fears and awful feelings of loss kept sweeping over us. Later, we cried less but the little things that set off the thoughts and feelings surrounding this were everywhere.<\/p>\n Needless to say, in time, the relationship ended, and even now I feel one day I\u2019ll have to face my unborn child and ask for forgiveness. But then the same may be true for both my sons and daughters who got to live too.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n The Doors of Unreality – 1958<\/b><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n Angela wakes from a dream where she hears a baby swaddled in a basket crying from the doorstep of her parent\u2019s house. She gets out of bed, walks downstairs and opens the front door but there\u2019s no one there. She goes back up to her bedroom, and as she steps onto the landing, she sees her mother watching her from her doorway.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d her mother asks.<\/p>\n \u201cI thought I heard someone at the door,\u201d<\/p>\n Her mother scowls, \u201cWhat at this time of night?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI must have dreamt it,\u201d Angela says quietly.<\/p>\n Her mother shakes her head in disbelief, \u201cNow, go back to bed before you get a cold.\u201d<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n Dream<\/b><\/p>\n I woke from a dream where I was back in the termination assessment clinic but had to go through a doorway because I was scared of a Dalek patrolling the area. Once through the doorway, I found myself in an unending wasteland. I felt like I\u2019d been banished from the Garden of Eden and wanted to go back through the door, but the Dalek kept screeching, \u201cExterminate!\u201d and I knew if I was to face it, I would die.<\/p>\n * * *<\/p>\n End of Chapter 4<\/span><\/p>\n