Youre about five or six weeks along, the doctor said, dropping her instrument in the tray before peeling off her gloves
Are you planning to keep the baby?
Claire didnt say a word.
Forty-two years old, about to have her fourth childand it was the last thing she wanted. Money was tight; they barely made it from one paycheque to the next.
The older kids were still at school, the youngest was just about to start primaryshed need a pinafore, a blouse, a brand new backpack, and thats not even mentioning all the notebooks and books And now this? Some gift!
Ill talk it over with Tom, she decided. See what he thinks.
I saw the doctor today, Claire mentioned at dinner.
Well? Tom asked, fork in mid-air.
I am pregnant. Six weeks.
He stopped chewing and put his fork down.
Well, what can we do? Lets have the baby. Itll be nice: two boys, two girls. The full set.
A set! And what are we supposed to live on?
She laid it all out: the older kids needs, the youngest starting school, the endless costs piling up. With each word, Claire felt more certainhaving another baby at her age and in their situation sounded completely mad.
Im going to start the process for an abortion.
Once the blood tests and paperwork were done, Claire felt crushed.
She started to feel sorry for the tiny person growing inside her. Probably a girl fair-haired, pretty, a proper handful.
To get to her appointment, Claire squeezed onto a jam-packed tram. It was so chaotic that she stumbled off at her stop and, somehow, the strap of her handbag fell off her shoulderbut she didnt realise at first. Then it hit her: the strap had been sliced clean off.
Pickpockets had stolen her handbag, along with every penny she had and all her test results.
She had no choice but to head home. Some tests had to be done again, others she managed to recover.
The second time she tried, she got off the bus and twisted her ankle.
Third times the charmat this rate, Ill break my neck, she thought superstitiously. Thats when she gave upall signs pointed to letting this child be. And, finally, she felt at peace.
The pregnancy went smoothly, and Claire soon found out it was a girl. But then, during her second scan, disaster struckthe doctor suspected the baby might have Downs syndrome.
Youll need to have an amniocentesis, the doctor explained, filling in the details,
I have to warn you: the procedure does put the baby at risk, and theres a chance of miscarriage or infection.
Claire mulled it over, and agreed.
On the set day, she and Tom arrived at the clinic. Tom stayed in the waiting area while Claire, barely able to stand, went into the consulting room. The doctor started checking the babys heartbeatit was racing off the charts.
Lets wait a bit, the doctor suggested.
Well give you some magnesium.
They administered the magnesium and sent Claire out to the corridor to relax.
After a while, they called her back in. The heartbeat had calmed, but now the baby had turned her back to them, so the test couldnt be done.
Well wait againmaybe shell turn around.
On the third try, everything lined upthe baby faced them and her heartbeat was steady.
They prepped Claires stomach.
It was a scorching day and the window was wide open for a bit of breeze. The nurse took her tray of instrumentsand, just then, a pigeon swooped in through the window. Feathers everywhere, sheer panic! The nurse dropped the tray and sent instruments flying across the floor.
Claire was sent back out to the corridor while they chased out the pigeon and got fresh, sterile tools.
Whats going on in there? Tom asked, clearly worried.
A pigeon came in and caused chaos.
Claire, thats a sign.
Lets just go home.
So they did.
When the time came, Claire gave birth to a lovely little girl.
Shes ten now.
Fair-haired, beautiful and cheeky as anythingSometimes, when Claire watches her daughterher miracle, her chaos, her stubborn, brilliant girlrace down the street, backpack bouncing and hair a golden blur, she wonders about all the accidents and detours that almost kept her from being here. She thinks of hands, seen or unseen, guiding hersometimes gently, sometimes with wild, flapping wings.
At night, when she sits sorting through old school things, listening to the quiet rise and fall of her childrens laughter, Claire feels a hush of gratitude. Money is still tight, life is still noisy and full to the brim, but their daughter fills every empty corner with a brightness only she could bring. Each smile, each questionordinary and extraordinary all at onceis proof that, sometimes, the world knows better than you do.
And on fine days, when the sun slants just so through the kitchen window and little feet thump across the floor, Claire remembers the strange signs, the missed trams, the sudden squall of feathers. She knows fate will never explain itself, but looking at her girl, Claire decides she doesnt really need it to.
