‘You don’t need to apologise. My place is always a mess. Welcome to my world.’ Seeing how much their universe was spiralling from them, Dawn decided to take charge. ‘Right, time for you to get some rest.’ She cleared away the mess from the sofa: a mixture of muslins, Babygros and crisp packets. ‘Lie down,’ she instructed Rebekah.
‘But I can’t while I’m holding the baby.’
‘If Junior is anything like Archie was, that’s the deepest slumber he’ll have today and then he’ll have you up most of the night. If you don’t get any sleep now, you’ll be done in and you already look like you might be.’
‘If I fall asleep, I might drop him. Or roll onto him. Anything could happen.’
‘Lie down and I’ll get you sorted.’
Rebekah didn’t put up much of a fight and Junior was in such a deep sleep he was barely roused by the movement. She lay so the baby was cosied near the back of the sofa. Dawn bolstered them both up with pillows so, if Rebekah dared relax her grip, there was no chance either of them would have a change in position. Finally, she got a throw and covered Rebekah as best she could, making sure Junior wouldn’t get too hot.
‘I’m going to do the housework. Put some washing in the machine, clean the dishes and whatever else I can do to be useful. You try and sleep. I’m here so I can keep an eye on both of you so you don’t need to worry.’
Dawn didn’t give Rebekah a chance to say no. They’d obviously not got round to realising that napping in the daytime was their only available tool for survival during these early weeks. Even if it did mean coming up with ways to cope that they never thought they would have to utilise.
She gathered up every muslin and Babygro she was able to find and quickly filled the washing machine with the baby’s bits. In the kitchen she familiarised herself with the instructions on the steriliser and cleaned all the dirty bottles on the side before popping them in ready for the next round of feeds. Next she tackled the washing-up, which didn’t take long as it seemed the adults had been mostly living off packaged items that didn’t require plates or cutlery.
Every now and then she popped her head back into the front room to check on the pair as she’d promised. Rebekah had fallen asleep within minutes, as if Dawn had given her the permission to relax that she’d needed.
Dawn continued doing whatever she could to be helpful. She dished up a plate of food for them both, then divided up the lasagne and remaining pasta for portions to go in the fridge and freezer. Once that was done and she’d managed everything else she thought was useful that wouldn’t wake them up, she nestled down into a chair herself and surrendered to the fact that she would be here for longer than she’d planned. As long as she was able to leave in time to pick up Archie from his afterschool club, it didn’t matter as she’d not actually had any concrete plans for the day.
Thinking it rude to eat lunch and not wanting to make any more noise than necessary, Dawn got out her book for company. Or rather Joel’s book. It had been a really sweet gesture and, although it wasn’t her typical read, it was keeping her from dwelling on matters such as how she couldn’t help but think the baby nestled over there was hers.
Dawn closed her eyes for a minute so she didn’t have a chance to stare at them together any more. It wasn’t healthy to be jealous and she didn’t understand where it was coming from. She’d never expected these thoughts to be part of her life.
The baby woke with an ear-piercing scream. Not that pleasant, fuzzy-from-sleep opening of eyes before deciding he was hungry twenty minutes later. He went straight into full-blown wailing and, instinctively, Dawn thought he sounded in pain.
The sound woke Rebekah up with a fright, no doubt sending adrenaline to every quarter of her body. It was no wonder new mums didn’t sleep well.
‘It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,’ Rebekah said, while smoothing his back and getting them both upright again. ‘I don’t have his bottle ready,’ she said, panic taking over her face.
Dawn remembered how hard it was to hear a baby cry, especially on the occasions when she didn’t have the means to comfort Archie. She recalled a particularly long wait for a doctor’s appointment when she’d failed to bring enough supplies, and Archie might well have broken glass his cries were so extreme. ‘It’s okay, I’ve sterilised the bottles. We can do him some milk up now quickly.’
‘Oh, thank goodness for that. I thought I was going to have to make him wait quarter of an hour. The neighbours haven’t complained yet, but I’m sure it won’t be long. How long was I asleep?’
‘They won’t complain and if they do they’re not very good neighbours.’ Dawn went into the kitchen and hoped that making up formula hadn’t changed very much in the last decade. ‘You were asleep for about an hour. It’s not much but, if I recall rightly, any amount of sleep is precious at this stage.’
‘I don’t think I’ve had a solid hour all week. He keeps waking up like this and he sounds so distressed. I’m sure it can’t all be down to hunger.’ Rebekah hooked him up onto her shoulder, gently patting him on the back to help with any trapped wind. He was so tiny.
‘What has the health visitor said?’ The screams were beginning to make Dawn’s boobs ache. She’d have to go if he didn’t stop.
‘She’s not been that helpful. She suggested the Dr Brown bottles that still haven’t arrived and just said we need to spend longer winding him. We’ve got a machine to make getting his formula ready a bit easier.’
Looking at the Star Wars-type technology in front of her, Dawn decided times had definitely moved on. She let Rebekah continue making up the baby’s milk one-handed. ‘Surely there are some remedies that might help. My friend ended up using something in with her little girl’s milk. Infacol, I think. I’ll have to text her and see if she knows of anything that might help.’
‘If you could that would be great. None of my other friends have had problems like this. It’s making me think that he knows…’
The machine began to whirr and buzz and Dawn wondered if it could do coffee as well as milk. Now that would be the perfect invention. ‘Knows what?’ she said, distracted.
‘That I’m not the woman who brought him into the world.’
Dawn turned her attention from the state-of-the-art milk machine and concentrated on Rebekah. ‘He knows nothing other than the fact he’s surrounded by love and that’s all he ever needs to know.’ Whether they told him in the future that he had been brought into the world by a surrogate was up to them, but right now he was a baby that needed caring for. He wouldn’t cry any less for her just because she was his birth mother. ‘He wouldn’t be nuzzling into you if he didn’t think you were the one who should be looking after him.’
The baby really did look content there, his screeching having settled with Rebekah knowing exactly how to calm him. ‘I just don’t feel like I’m doing anything right.’ There were tears rolling down her cheeks.
If it hadn’t been for not wanting to get too near the baby, Dawn would have offered her a hug. ‘You’re doing a great job. You’re the same as every other mother with a two-week-old. They’re all exhausted and struggling to get to grips with what they’re doing. What you’re experiencing is perfectly natural.’
The machine beeped to indicate the milk was ready and, with a few practised manoeuvres, the baby was suckling the teat on its bottle.
‘I think what you really need to do is choose a name. He’ll be more settled once you’ve decided that, you’ll see.’ Dawn didn’t actually know if that were true, but at the very least it would make her feel better knowing the baby had a title.
‘Will you come back again tomorrow?’ Rebekah wiped the tears away so only a glistening sheen remained on her cheeks.
Dawn wasn’t keen on making this a habit. She wanted to help, but equally felt the need to keep her distance, just for the sake of her sanity. ‘I’ll come tomorrow,’ she said, very aware Rebekah was in need of help at the moment. ‘But after that, I’ll only come again once you’ve named the baby.’ Th
at would give her a few days’ grace as they seemed to be in no rush to make a decision. Hopefully it would force them to come up with one, saving the poor mite from being referred to as Junior for the rest of his days. ‘Time I went to pick up Archie. I’ll text my friend about those remedies and ring me if you’re worried about anything.’
Despite wanting to create some distance, it was impossible not to care. It was an inward battle she’d not expected. Because even if she wasn’t the baby’s mother, she was his birth mother. That meant something and she needed to accept she would always want what was best for him. Even if at times it went against the grain of her own feelings. It was a mother’s sacrifice all over again.
Chapter 10
Dawn was glad to see the reintroduction of the pistachios and wine evening into her life. As it was a welcome return to normality, she was going all out and cooking a balti. She’d missed having Jane over every Friday evening post afterschool club.
Jane had started coming over regularly not long after she’d begun her job at the school about five years before. There wasn’t much of a nightlife in Owerdale apart from a few bistro pubs and restaurants, so, as meeting up at the flat saved the cost of a babysitter, Dawn’s friend headed over there most weeks for a night in.
In the past they would have collected Archie, sourced some food, and then the evening always ended with nuts and wine and putting the world to rights.
Since being pregnant, the nuts and wine had gone out of the window, along with being able to manage staying up beyond nine in the evening. So they’d been opting for a takeaway then an early night. This was the first time they’d managed to get together without Dawn being up the duff. It was nice to feel ready to reacquaint herself with the parts of her life she’d missed. It was just strange not to be coming from school with Jane, who’d escorted Archie home today. She hadn’t realised she would miss being at work and the manic run-up to the summer holidays.
‘Here you go.’ Jane passed Dawn a bag of essentials for the evening: wine and nuts.
Once Archie had been fed and put to bed, they set about enjoying their evening.
‘Food smells delicious,’ Jane said.
‘I’m starving. I’ll go dish up.’ It was later than Dawn would usually eat, but they’d decided to have their relaunch once Archie was asleep, so she’d dished his dinner up from the slow cooker earlier and, ever since, her stomach had been grumbling at the welcoming smell.
Dawn cheated with microwavable rice and heated some naan bread to go with it, before serving it up with the finesse of lap trays. Well, it was the closest thing she had to date night.
‘So, how are things?’ Jane asked, once they were both set to tuck in.
Dawn shoved a forkful of lamb balti into her mouth before answering. She was too hungry to wait and it was a good way to avoid the question for a bit longer. It was too broad a question and one she was struggling to answer in just one simple sentence. The silence was awkward so she made stupid, pointing-to-her-face gestures so that Jane would know she was eating. Even though it was perfectly clear she was eating.
‘This is really lovely.’ Jane filled the void, making it even more apparent that Dawn hadn’t really answered.
‘It was a boy, like I thought.’ Even though Jane had looked after Archie on several occasions, they’d not actually taken the time to sit and talk about what had happened. Jane was the only person Dawn had told about thinking she knew the sex of the baby. She was the only person she’d trusted to tell.
‘Has it been hard?’
‘Hard would be a good description.’ Impossible seemed nearer to the mark. ‘It’s getting easier, although…’ Dawn wasn’t sure how much detail she wanted to go into. Certainly Jane didn’t need to know that she no longer needed the maternity pads she’d been waddling round in. Or that she was now back into normal-sized knickers.
‘Go on…?’ Jane encouraged, obviously sensing Dawn’s need to talk.
‘I’m struggling with being involved. I’m finding it hard to find the right level.’ There was no rule book for the process they were all going through.
‘What’s been going on then?’
Dawn dabbed some naan bread into the curry sauce and answered before filling her face this time. ‘They had their initial couple of weeks together as a family, but David has asked me to help out now his paternity leave has finished and he’s returned to work. I want to be there for them, but I also need to take a step back. It’s hard to explain.’
‘It was always going to be complicated. It’s a massive period of adjustment you’re all going through. I’ve said it since the beginning – you’re a much better person than me. I’m not sure I could have done that for my sister, however much I love her. It’s a huge thing you’ve done for them. And if they’re asking too much of you, you need to explain that to them.’
‘I think that’s why I’m struggling. I’ve already done the big ask by handing over the baby, the rest should be small stuff in comparison.’ Helping out shouldn’t have been too much bother, but the more they asked of her, the more she worried about if they were coping. If any of them were coping.
‘It obviously doesn’t feel small, otherwise it wouldn’t be bothering you.’
‘They’ve asked if I can look after the baby one morning a week so Rebekah can get some rest. She’s really struggling on very little sleep. I keep trying to think of it in rational terms. If it weren’t for the fact that I’d carried him, I wouldn’t hesitate in volunteering to look after my nephew one morning a week. In fact, I would be delighted.’
‘And you’re not happy about it because…’
It wasn’t so much a question as a sentence that needed completing. ‘Because I’m scared.’ It was as simple as that and yet so complicated. ‘It sounds silly, I know, but I don’t want to forge any kind of bond with him, but at the same time I’m his auntie so it’s natural that there would be one. I haven’t held him yet because I’m too scared that parts of me might explode into mortification that he’s not mine.’
Jane was mopping up the remainder of her curry with some naan bread. ‘Maybe that’s the next step then. If you hold him, at least you’ll know how you feel. Whether you can keep it all in check or whether you need to keep your distance.’
Dawn realised she’d neglected to pour them any wine, so quickly went about correcting that error as well as grabbing a bowl for their post-dinner pistachios. ‘I’m waiting for them to choose a name at the moment. I told them I wouldn’t help any more until they’d decided that.’
‘What? Wasn’t he born, like, weeks ago? Surely they’ve decided?’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? To me, naming him is part of the bonding process they need to go through. In fact, it’s annoying me that they haven’t chosen. It’s beginning to seem discourteous.’ Dawn drank some of her wine, finally able to get some of the emotions that had been ratcheting up inside her off her chest.
‘They don’t have long to decide. Don’t they have to register the name within so many weeks? Whose name goes down as the birth mother?’
Dawn gave up on her curry. ‘Bloody hell. I hadn’t even thought about it. It must be Rebekah, right?’ Genetically he was Rebekah’s; her name must go on there somewhere. Otherwise, without some significant footnote to explain, future generations of the family would question this bizarre case of incest. ‘I’ll have to ask. Do you think that’s why they haven’t come up with a name yet? Because of the registration process?’
Jane shrugged her shoulders. ‘No idea. What do you think?’
Shelling a pistachio, Dawn gave it some thought. ‘I’m just perplexed by it. For so long they’ve tried for and wanted a baby. They never got to name their baby angels. It always made me think they’d be desperate to name this one in the same way they were desperate for a happy outcome. After all we’ve been through, it feels like a bit of an insult to everything I went through to not choose something. I thought telling them I wouldn’t help with the baby until they chose a
name would speed up the process. Not that I want to blackmail them into it, but I think they should realise it’s important for all of us that they make a decision.’
Jane took a handful of nuts and shelled them one by one as they chatted. ‘At least it gives you a bit of breathing space to decide how you feel. To process whether you can really be involved to the extent they’re asking you to be.’
‘It was David who asked me about helping once a week by text the other day. I don’t even know if he’s asked Rebekah. He never texts. I’m not sure I like it.’
‘Sounds like you all need to sit down and have a chat about everything. Some things are too complex to try to guess what everyone is thinking.’
Jane was right, of course. This was beyond the scope of what they’d discussed, both when they’d taken the decision to go for surrogacy and when they’d decided how to handle things initially. It might have been naïve, but they’d not talked about the future. Like it was a dangerous subject, in case they never got that far. And now they were here it was like none of them quite knew how to function. ‘They should be here on Sunday if they don’t cancel again. Hopefully that’ll give us the chance to talk.’
Because Dawn needed to be honest. She should confess she was struggling with the void being a surrogate had created.
Chapter 11
It was the screeching noise that woke Dawn in a panic. The sound dragged her from deep sleep so quickly, it didn’t give her a chance to adapt to the world. All she knew was that it was an emergency and she needed to react. Her first thought was of Archie. He was in the room next to hers. Was he in pain? Had he hurt himself?
With sleep not fully dusted off, Dawn hurtled to check on him. Archie was wrapped under his duvet, just waking and looking as startled as her by the noise that had invaded their dreams.
‘Is that a baby?’ Archie asked, coming to.
The sound stopped. Unlike her son, Dawn was struggling to connect the dots. It sounded like it was a baby, but it couldn’t be. Knowing at least that Archie was safe, her hackles went down and she went in search of coffee. So when she reached the front room, she nearly dropped dead from a heart attack when she saw a figure wandering around.
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