The immediate situation facing us was frightening. Dank weather summed up the predicament perfectly. On the way to collect Melanie I knew with certainty that both our lives would dramatically change. Whether we could endure the physical and mental anguish was questionable. Could we overcome such an event? It would test our love for one another to the limit.
I arrived near the entrance to the room but was afraid to enter. What could I possibly say to her. Someone in authority caught sight of me and came to chat. Her words were powerful and I felt more at ease. ‘Come in Mr Thomas, you’re both going to need all your strength to recover from this. Melanie is extremely fragile at the moment but with time you will both get through the ordeal. It’s not going to be easy but you can give each other great comfort and support’. My hands trembled as I entered, palms sweating, eyes focusing on her. She was dressed and ready to leave. Her face tearful with unhappiness.
I carried her case as we left the room, her head on my shoulder, her hand grasping mine tightly. Whilst on the drive home, we sat in silence with just our thoughts. On arriving at the house both of us quietly slipped inside. Neither of us were keen to speak to anybody. Once inside, I gently brought up the subject of what we were going to do’. Melanie jumped down my throat at the mention of what we were going to have to do. I don’t want to do anything. It’s too early to think about it. Drop the subject please. I’ll sort it out in my own time’. Her eyes were red and tearful. At some point in time we would need to accept the situation but I didn’t want to rush her. She must be able to face up to what lay in THAT room or we could never move on.
The door bell sounded. Melanie panicked. ‘Don’t open the door, I don’t want to see anybody, not anybody’. I understood her anxiety. ‘Alright’, I replied.
When the time came for an early bedtime, I took her arm and gently lifted her off the chair although I sensed fear. Up she rose and we timidly climbed the stairs to the nightmare that was to engulf us both. The nursery was painted in pretty pink with Disney characters. A brand new crib sat empty in the corner of the room, but something was missing. It was to remain empty. There would be no warmth in it only a permanent coldness. ‘This is where our little girl should be where I can take care of her, not back in the hospital’. Melanie whispered. I opened the suitcase and inside were the baby’s hand prints on paper and a small lock of her hair. Melanie cried uncontrollably. We were not going to have a joyous christening but a grim funeral.
