by Hodge, Sibel
‘I know!’ I leapt back from him, blinking away the tears. ‘How about I wear that black mini skirt you like with no knickers and my long, leather boots?’ I rushed out of the room before he could answer, but as I disappeared up the stairs to get dressed I glanced back at him in the kitchen and saw him staring up at the ceiling, rubbing his forehead in an exhausted gesture. Were we one step closer to losing each other in all this?
****
Lying in bed that night my heart raced. I didn’t know if it was anxiety about whether today was the day that Karl’s sperm would finally fertilize my egg or not, or because I was thinking about what he’d said. No matter how hard I wracked my brains, I couldn’t think of anything that would fulfil me anymore. Karl snoring like a wounded buffalo also put me off my train of thought.
I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Poppy earlier.
‘I think Karl’s right about getting something important in your life to take your mind off it. If you blank all thoughts about wanting a baby, I think it will happen. Just ask the Universe for guidance,’ she said.
‘Yes, I’ve been thinking about that, too, because Suzanne said something similar. So how do I go about that, exactly? I mean, do I just write it all down in a letter and address it to the Universe, Somewhere in Space, like I used to do with Santa’s letters when I was a kid, or what?’
She chuckled. ‘Not quite. Before you go to sleep tonight, imagine writing down your question on a piece of paper. Then imagine yourself folding it up and putting it into a small box.’
‘Right, got it.’ That sounded pretty easy. ‘Then what?’
‘Then imagine tying a balloon to the box and letting go of it while you ask the Universe for guidance. Visualize the balloon floating away from you, and then switch off all thoughts about it.’
Ha! Easier said than done for Mrs Neurotic. ‘OK.’
‘The next morning the Universe will have your answer for you.’
‘Great!’ How simple was that?
‘But it’s not quite that simple,’ she said.
Damn! I knew there had to be a catch.
‘You have to learn to recognize the answer.’
Oh, for God’s sake, why can’t anything in life ever be simple? ‘Er…what does that mean?’
‘Well, the Universe may send you the answer in the form of a snippet of conversation you overhear, or a headline in a newspaper, or a piece of graffiti on a wall. There are hundreds of ways she might tune in to you. You just have to be aware of everything going on around you to pick it up.’
That sent me into panic mode. What if I missed it? What if she forgot to send me the answer or I misinterpreted it? It was perfectly possible to read a headline about something thinking it was for me, when maybe it was meant for someone else. Fuckety fuck! Why couldn’t Zelda just have an email address?
‘Oh, I’ve got to go,’ Poppy said, distracting my thoughts. ‘I’ve got my kundalini yoga class in half an hour.’
Her what? It sounded pretty rude to me. I have visions of naked yoga going on and…ew, a horrible thought appeared in my head.
‘You should go to one. It’s fantastic for unblocking your chakras and makes you feel fantastic.’
Not after the Taliban Torturer. There was no way in this lifetime I was going near a yoga class again. ‘Yep, sounds good. One day I’ll make sure I do.’ I tried my most convincing voice. Bless her, she was only trying to help, but cunnilingus yoga? Come on!
****
So, as instructed, I was lying in bed with my eyes closed, taking deep breaths, silently repeating, my womb is a flower, my womb is a flower, my womb is a flower.
Karl did a little snore-grunt and turned over. I hoped I wasn’t saying it out loud. He would get me sectioned soon.
OK, next, on to the letter…
I took an extra long deep breath and imagined writing on a pink piece of paper. Then I scrapped it and used a white piece. What if Zelda hated the colour pink and jinxed me? White couldn’t offend anyone, could it? No.
So, here we go again.
White piece of paper. Check!
Question scrawled on it:
Zelda, I know you don’t know me, but I was wondering if you could help enlighten me as to my purpose in life if I can’t get pregnant. Can you please send me a message to tell me how I can fill this colossal hole in my heart and head.
P.S. Could you also make it easy to spot your answer, please?
Thanks so much!
Gina xxx
P.P.S. Do you have an email address?
Here goes!
I folded the paper into the box, tied a balloon to it, and let it go, imagining it floating into the starlit night. Up, up, and away, until it was just a speck in the distance.
One more deep breath for luck, then I turned over and banished it from my mind.
A Sign?
Snoring, grunting and whinnying from Karl did not abate all night. I had weird dreams that Zelda was a unicorn and sent me a message while I was in the supermarket. The only problem was that the message was on a packet of frozen sausages that said, “Buy One Get One Free.” What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was that her answer, or was it just a stupid dream? Now I’m more confused than ever.
I’ve been trying to tune in to Zelda to try and find her answer for me. Somehow, I’ve got a feeling this is going to be a very long day. OK, it started with breakfast TV. I thought maybe there would be a sign for me there because I watch it all the time. I ate my porridge (organic, of course) with a sprinkle of raisins (yuck, I hate them, but they’re healthy) and Manuka honey (good for all sorts, apparently), and concentrated on the screen like never before. What was I looking for, though? I didn’t have a clue. There was an interview with a pop star who was becoming an ambassador for an animal charity, the weatherman talking about a hurricane in the US, and an advert in the break for Nike – the slogan was “Just Do It.”
What did it all mean? Something or nothing? Was I meant to volunteer to help out at disaster zones in the world? While it was a very noble cause, and I admired anyone who did that kind of work, I didn’t think Karl would be too impressed about that. I could just imagine the conversation…
‘Hi, darling, I’m just running off to Miami to do a spot of rebuilding work after the hurricane.’
‘What? You can’t even put a nail in the wall? And the last time you tried to use a drill we needed to have the whole wall re-plastered.’
Hmmm…you see my dilemma?
Or how about working with animals? I loved animals. The only trouble was that Karl had a fur allergy, so how could I be around cats and dogs and fluffy bunnies all day without it transferring onto my clothes?
No, that couldn’t be it.
The Nike message was crystal clear. Just Do It. But what the hell was I supposed to be doing?
Then the paper arrived! Yay! Maybe there was something from Zelda in there. The headlines on the first page read, “Local Councillor having an affair with parishioner!”
Omigod! Was that Zelda’s answer? I was supposed to have an affair? And if so, why? An affair? Nope. That couldn’t be it.
Maybe I was supposed to be a local councillor. Help out the community and all that. That was definitely a possibility.
Oh, this is ridiculous!
I ended up slinging the paper in the bin before I could jump to any more stupid conclusions.
****
After back-to-back clients all day, I felt claustrophobic in the house. A walk in the fresh air would do me good. Plus, I couldn’t shake the thought that maybe there was something in this message business, and what if Zelda was sending the messages somewhere outside and not inside?
I bundled myself up in my thick wool coat, wrapped a soft pink scarf around my neck, and took a deep breath as I pulled the door open.
My womb is a flower (I was still repeating that, just in case).
Thoughts rambled about in my head as I walked off down the street, peeking in the windows of the detached hous
es. At least the sun was shining, doing its best to bite into the bitter chill of the afternoon.
I heard children shrieking behind the bay windows of one house and caught a glimpse of a couple of toddlers hitting each other over the head with blow-up toys. I swallowed down a lump in my throat and tried to ignore a tightness spreading across my chest.
Don’t cry, Gina. Don’t do it!
I tore my gaze away from their window and forced myself to look ahead, just in time to see a young mother pushing a pram towards me.
Bitch! It’s sooooo not fair! Don’t I deserve children, too?
She smiled at me as she passed but I couldn’t summon even a crinkle in the corners of my lips. I blinked hard to try and stop my vision from blurring with salty tears and stumbled on the pavement in my high-heel boots.
Stop it, Gina. Focus. Pull yourself together and look for the message!
I brushed away the tears, willing myself to think about anything except babies. Mrs Omeroyd’s pig’s trotters managed to get my train of thought moving in the right direction as I strolled towards the park at the end of the road.
No, don’t go in there! Too many children playing that you won’t want to see. Don’t torture yourself.
I strolled past, turning my head in the opposite direction so I wasn’t tempted to look, and immediately spied an advert for a watch on the bus stop. “You’ll never run out of time with a Timex.”
Could that be it? Did it mean I’d get pregnant soon? Was Zelda telling me not to give up? That there was plenty of time?
As I walked down the high street, the wind suddenly whipped up to tornado level and blew me towards a shop. It was so powerful that I was unable to stop myself getting swept along. And then the next second, I’d landed in front of a travel agent, and the wind had completely disappeared, as if I’d just imagined the whole thing.
I glanced around me to see if anyone else had noticed the sudden bizarre wind, but the high street had morphed into a ghost town and no one was around.
I thought about what Poppy and Suzanne had said about looking for signs from the Universe. Could this be what Zelda was trying to tell me? Call me crazy (and I’m sure you have. Many times!), but somehow I just knew it was.
My heart broke into a tap-dancing beat and a surge of adrenaline shot through me as I stood, staring at the poster in the travel agent’s window.
Discover Australia.
I scanned the poster, devouring it with my eyes.
There were pictures of golden beaches; turquoise waters with colourful fish that made you want to dive in, right there and then. A rock in the middle of the outback with the sun setting behind it, giving it an ethereal glow. Fireworks going off at a crowded Sydney Harbour Bridge.
It all looked so inviting.
Yep, I was sure this was meant for me.
I went inside, the bell above the door jangling to announce my arrival.
A young girl looked up from her desk. ‘Hi. Can I help you?’
‘I’d like some brochures on Australia, please,’ I announced.
She stood up and walked to the brochure rack. ‘Well, this one is good for package holidays. This is one from the Australian Tourist Board for backpacking holidays and longer stays travelling around the country.’ She handed them to me. ‘And here are a few more.’
The brochures felt both heavy and magically hot in my hands.
‘That should keep you busy for a while.’ She smiled.
I hugged them to my chest as I retraced my journey back to the house with a new bounce in my step.
As soon as I got through the door I flung my coat haphazardly on the coat rack, kicked off my boots, and rushed to the phone in the kitchen to call Poppy.
‘I think it was a sign,’ I said after I’d told her what had happened.
‘To go on holiday to Australia?’ Poppy asked.
‘No. I don’t think just for a holiday. We could go and travel around, for a year, maybe. Discover a whole new country. Get our life back again and stop obsessing about babies. Have time for us for a change,’ I said breathlessly, flicking through the brochure, which was packed with sunny skies, beautiful countryside, and amazing open spaces. ‘I always wanted to take a year out and backpack around Oz when I was a teenager, but I never got around to it. And then I got tied down to a job and a mortgage, and eventually I met Karl. It’s like Zel…I mean, the Universe is trying to rekindle that idea I had when I was younger.’
‘Well, yes, why not?’ She laughed. ‘The Universe works in mysterious ways.’
‘It could be perfect. Drive around in one of those campervans they hire out, stopping wherever the mood takes us. No plans, just going with the flow.’ My mind was racing as I thought about it. ‘We could rent our house out to pay for it.’
‘But what about Karl’s job?’
Hmmm. I hadn’t thought about that. Oh, well, it was early days, but this was at least a starting point. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t even discussed it with Karl yet. I need to think about it a bit more.’
‘Erm…well, I’ve got some news, too,’ Poppy said, her voice quivering with excitement. ‘I’m finally pregnant!’ she breathed hard down the phone. ‘The IVF worked!’
Bitch, was my first thought, closely followed by cow and trout. It was so unfair. Why could Poppy get pregnant and I couldn’t? Did she deserve it more than me? And if so, who decided that? Then an overwhelming feeling of guilt swept over me. I was a horrible person for even thinking that. Poppy had been trying for four years, and it was her third round of IVF.
‘I’m so happy for you.’ I masked my jealousy with a gushing voice, even though the empty, hollow feeling in my stomach was growing by the second.
‘I…I didn’t know whether to tell you or not. I know how upsetting it is to hear about when someone else falls pregnant. It’s OK to hate me’ She chuckled. ‘Well, not for long! But…I’m still going to be here to talk to you about everything, and support you through the bad times.’
‘No…I…’ OK, she was right. I did hate her at that moment, but it wasn’t her fault. Poppy had been such a good friend to me, and she deserved to be happy. I was turning into the nasty, jealous kind of person that I despised, but I felt powerless to stop it. ‘I really hope everything goes OK.’ I felt the tears trickling down my cheeks and my throat constricting. All I wanted to do was get off the phone. ‘I’ve got to go now. I’ll phone you tomorrow,’ I croaked.
I kicked the wooden door to the kitchen after I’d hung up.
Ouch!
I rubbed at my foot and hopped to the kitchen table, slumping forward with my head in my arms as salty tears soaked my face.
Why couldn’t it be me?
****
‘Gina,’ Karl called out from the hallway as he slammed the front door. ‘God, I’ve had such a crap day at the office.’
I heard him putting his briefcase down and wandering into the kitchen where I was still in the same position. Sod dinner. I couldn’t even think about that now. Karl could get the bloody Chinese takeaway he’d been lusting after. Hell, maybe I’d ignore this stupid organic diet and have one, too. It wasn’t like it seemed to be doing any good, was it?
‘These sales figures they keep trying to get me to meet are more and more ridiculous every day. I’m under so much pressure to…’ he trailed off as I lifted my head and gave him a weak smile.
He stood there staring at me. ‘What’s up?’
That started a fresh round of waterworks as I told him through sniffs and gulps of air about Poppy.
‘Ah.’ He flopped down next to me, putting his arm around me, gently stroking my shoulder. ‘Sorry.’
Sorry? Was that it? It was such a little word, and it sounded so inconsequential under the circumstances. Sorry Poppy is going to have a precious, miracle baby, and not you. Sorry you’re so useless you can’t even do something simple that millions of women in the world manage to do with no problems. Sorry it’s not your time yet. Honestly, sometimes I thought he just wasn’t interest
ed in a baby. Sorry?
Hot flames of anger engulfed me. ‘Is that all you can say, sorry? You’ve been saying sorry for nearly two years!’
He removed his arm, stood up, and paced the black tiles on the kitchen floor. ‘Exactly,’ he said, smooth and controlled. ‘I don’t know what to say anymore. What do you want me to say?’
I threw my hands up in an impatient gesture. ‘I don’t know!’
He stared around the kitchen. ‘Are we having dinner? I’m starving. I missed lunch to have an important meeting.’
I jumped off the chair. ‘FUCK DINNER!’ I stormed off upstairs and slammed the bedroom door.
‘Oh, now I’ve got to fuck the dinner, too!’ he yelled up at me.
I threw myself on the bed, trying to practise some deep breathing.
My womb is a flower, my womb is a flower. My womb is a fucking useless waste of space!
Downstairs, Karl banged around in the kitchen cupboards and I heard the phone ring and muffled voices. Everything going on around me as normal, except here I was, teetering on the edge of a ravine of despair. One little slip and I’d tip over the edge to God knows where.
Come on, Gina. Keep it together. Get a grip. It’s not Karl’s fault. It’s not your fault.
Yeah, right! It is my fault.
Calm down. The IVF will work.
****
‘Gina.’ Karl hovered in the bedroom doorway a few hours later, the light from the hallway behind spilling into the darkened room. ‘Amelia’s on the phone. Do you want to talk to her?’
I nodded and swung my legs off the bed, grabbing the phone on the table next to me. ‘Hi,’ I whispered as the door clicked shut behind him again.
