‘Again this is a standard question: any history of depression? Anything like that?’
‘My mum has that.’
Right, okay—that’s something.
‘Do you know if your mum suffered with postnatal depression?’
‘No.’
‘That’s okay.’ Voice still neutral. Unthreatening. Soft. Rhea was answering the questions.
‘What about the father of the baby?’
Rhea stiffened, still not meeting her gaze, shuffling her feet, twiddling with her bag strap with nervous fingers. ‘What about him?’
‘Any health issues on his side we should be concerned about?’
‘I don’t know.’
What is it about the father of this baby that she doesn’t want me to know?
‘How tall is he?’
‘What?’ Rhea frowned.
‘His height? It can have a bearing on the size of your baby.’
Surely she can tell me his height?
‘I don’t know.’
Callie paused. What was going on here? How did she not know the boy’s height? Or perhaps she did know but didn’t want to give Callie any clues that might identify him? Perhaps he was an older man? Married? Or was he younger than Rhea? Which would be a whole different kettle of fish. Not that she wanted to think that way, but it was a possibility she had to consider.
‘How did you two meet?’ That wasn’t a standard question, but Callie felt she needed to do some extra detective work on this case if she were to get any helpful answers.
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
Callie shrugged. ‘I’m just interested.’
‘Nosy, more like. How I got pregnant has got nothing to do with you. You’re a midwife. You should know how people get pregnant, yeah? So just tell me what I need to do next so I can get out of here.’
Callie shrank back from the anger, but she was getting really concerned for Rhea. The girl was so angry and scared. There had to be a way to help her. To get the young girl to trust her.
‘Okay, okay … I guess what I really need to know is your intention. You’re very young and I have no idea of your support system. I’m making no judgements, but I need to know what your intentions are regarding this pregnancy.’
‘My intentions?’
‘Yes. Are you keeping it? Are you here to ask about other options?’ She didn’t want to use the word abortion unless Rhea used it first.
She was quiet for a while, and Callie could see that Rhea’s eyes were filling with tears. Her nose was going red and she was really fighting the urge to cry. All Callie’s instincts told her to reach out and comfort her, to put an arm around her, to show her that someone genuinely cared. But it wouldn’t have been professional to break that boundary— and, besides, she wasn’t comfortable being that person just yet with Rhea. Any show of affection might have the opposite effect and send Rhea running for the hills.
So she sat quietly and waited, her gaze on Rhea’s face.
‘I don’t want it.’ Her voice was quiet and empty of emotion.
‘You don’t?’ This was what she’d suspected.
‘No.’
‘Then there are two options open to you, Rhea.’
Tears rolled down Rhea’s cheeks. ‘I can’t have an abortion. I don’t believe in it.’
‘Right … okay.’
‘I want to give it away. Get rid of it that way.’
It.
So impersonal. So unattached.
I called my baby ‘it’.
There had to be personal reasons for Rhea’s decision, but Callie truly felt that now was not the time to push for them. If Rhea wanted to give her baby away after it was born, that gave Callie six more months of learning about Rhea and working with her to find out what was going on and how best she could help her.
It was a big decision to give away your baby.
It was what I was going to do. Give the baby to Lucas and Maggie. Only it’s not ‘the’ baby now. It’s ‘my’ baby, isn’t it?
Isn’t it?
Callie wasn’t sure. She and Lucas still hadn’t discussed properly what they were going to do to sort this. But they needed to. They were on the clock now and time was ticking. Should she still give the baby to Lucas? Was it even her decision to make?
Callie decided that once the booking clinic was over she was going to call the fertility clinic and ask to speak to one of the counsellors there. She, Lucas and Maggie had each undertaken individual counselling before agreeing to the surrogacy, but the situation had changed now. Everything was different.
I was going to give my baby away. Happily. I was going to do it for Lucas and Maggie.
Who was Rhea doing it for? What was Rhea doing it for?
‘Okay. We can talk about that. It’s a big decision.’
‘I know what I’m doing.’
‘Have you talked to your family about it?’
‘It’s not their decision. It’s mine. My body—my choice.’
‘Of course it is. I’m not denying that.’
‘Just put it in my notes that I’m giving it away. The Social can have it. I don’t want to see it, or hold it. Just get them to take it away and give it to someone who doesn’t know where it’s come from.’
‘Doesn’t know where it’s come from’? Why would she say that? Did Maria think that way about me? She never wanted me. Never wanted anything to do with me. Was my own mother like this young girl once?
‘I’ll put it in your notes. You do know that I’ll be here for you throughout this, Rhea? Any time. You’ll be able to call me, night or day. I’ll give you my contact details.’ She passed over a small card that had the hospital numbers and Callie’s own personal mobile number on it too.
Rhea stuffed it into her bag. ‘I don’t want anyone judging me.’
‘No one will do that.’
‘You don’t know what I’ve been through.’
