“We’ll manage two, and we can handle a third. I’ll pick up some extra work. Or do you want to get rid of the baby?” her husband asked bluntly.
Emily had felt exhausted for days. There was so much to do, but all she wanted was to sit still—or better yet, lie down and stay there. The thought of food made her queasy. A pregnancy test confirmed what she already suspected.
She’d only been back at work for two years after maternity leave, barely recovered from nappies and babygros, and now this… She was upset. Oliver had just turned five, and Lillian had started Year Two. They needed her care and attention, but a new baby would take up all her time. Would they understand? Would they resent the new brother or sister?
“Of course, a child is a blessing. ‘God sends the child and sends the love,’ or so they say. But these are uncertain times. When were they ever easy? Women had babies even during the war. What will I say at work? That I’m going on leave again, that I’ll be taking sick days?”
And that was if she even kept her job. Three children on just Daniel’s salary? The family would grow, but the money wouldn’t… Wracked with doubt, Emily wasn’t in a hurry to “surprise” her husband. She still had time to think.
Just recently, her boss had asked if anyone was planning maternity leave or quitting. Understandable, since most of the team were women. Emily, like the others, assured him she had her perfect set—a boy and a girl—and had no plans for more. And now this.
“Why am I even thinking about work? Family matters more—careers come and go…” But as days passed, Emily agonised, weighing every angle, unable to decide.
“Are you ill? You’re pale, and you keep zoning out. I’ve asked three times what we’re getting Mark and Charlotte for their birthdays, and you’re not listening. Did something happen?” Daniel finally asked one evening after dinner.
So Emily told him. He was silent for a moment, then asked, “What are we going to do?”
Not *what are you going to do?* but *what are we going to do?* That was why she loved him. He wouldn’t leave her alone with this. A wave of guilt washed over her for keeping it to herself. The weight on her shoulders lifted slightly as she shared her fears.
“Two children are fine; we’ll manage a third,” Daniel said firmly.
“But I’ll be on leave. We’ll have to live on your salary. Who knows when—or if—I’ll go back to work? Though there’s child benefit…” Emily hesitated.
“We’ll cope. I’ll take on extra shifts. Or do you want a termination?” he asked directly.
“I don’t know,” Emily admitted. “You’ll work all day, I’ll be stuck at home with the kids. Life will just… pass us by.”
“Life passes by with two or three kids all the same. Look, we’ve got time to think, yeah?”
“A little.”
“Then let’s not rush. We’ll talk later—but I reckon you’ve already made your choice, haven’t you?”
“How will we all fit in this tiny flat?” Emily glanced around the cramped two-bedroom they’d inherited from Daniel’s grandmother.
“I’ll talk to my parents. Offer to swap. They’ve got three bedrooms for just the two of them. Dad suggested it when we had Lillian.”
Emily gave him a doubtful look but stayed quiet. Predictably, her mother-in-law put up a fight.
“Your wife got pregnant on purpose to get a bigger place. She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”
“Mum, *I* brought up the flat swap. Emily had nothing to do with it,” Daniel defended.
“So you want to uproot us in our old age? We’re settled here. Moving at our age is a nightmare. But you don’t care, do you?” She clutched her chest dramatically.
“Mum, enough. Forget I asked.”
“Just get her to terminate it. Two kids are plenty these days. Better for everyone.”
“I get it.”
Daniel’s expression when he returned told Emily everything. They avoided the subject after that. One moment, she accepted the idea of another child; the next, she dreaded nappies, sleepless nights, and splitting herself in two.
The deadline for a termination loomed, but she still couldn’t decide. Then she dreamt of a little girl—about five—skipping through the flat, singing, a woven basket in her hands like Little Red Riding Hood.
“What’s in there?” Emily asked. The girl peered inside, then looked up, her eyes wide with sorrow. The basket was empty.
At first, Emily was relieved—it meant a girl. But why the empty basket? The dream haunted her.
“So, have you decided?” Daniel asked one evening.
“I… No.” She told him about the dream.
“It’s just a dream. Means we’re having a girl—your little helper.”
*He’s so good to me*, Emily thought. *I’ll go through with it. With Daniel, I’m safe. I should be grateful he’s not pushing me to end it—and here I am, still hesitating.* She leaned into him.
What finally decided it was a visit to friends. Their home was perfect, the hostess gorgeous enough for magazine covers. Only one problem: no children. When Oliver and Lillian raced around laughing, Charlotte stopped Emily from scolding them.
“Let them play. A house full of laughter is a blessing. If I could, I’d have as many as God gave.”
“Haven’t you tried IVF?” Emily asked.
“Of course. My husband still hopes… But if he agrees, we’ll adopt. A boy and a girl.”
That settled it. Emily would keep the baby.
Then her mother-in-law arrived, straight to the point: “Had the termination yet?”
“Too late,” Emily lied, though the window hadn’t quite closed.
“Knew it. Two not enough? Ever heard of contraception? Daniel’s working himself to the bone—look at him! And you’ll barely fit through doors soon.” She eyed Emily’s swelling figure. “Planning to breed yourselves into poverty?”
“You had one child and act like you raised the whole football team,” Emily snapped.
“How dare—Daniel, are you hearing this?”
“You insulted my wife first. This is *our* choice. Our children.”
“So my opinion means nothing? Fine. Don’t come crying to me.” She stormed out.
As if she’d ever helped. Emily had coped fine alone. The visit left a bitter taste.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Daniel said.
For days, Emily replayed the argument in her head, thinking of better comebacks. But the decision was made. That Friday, she left work early for the antenatal clinic. Summer was fading, the sun peeking less often through clouds, leaves turning and falling.
Emily walked, imagining next summer—picnics, walks, three children. She planned how to spend the child benefit…
A group of teens blocked the pavement ahead, laughing loudly. She didn’t hear the electric scooter speeding up behind her. The rider swerved to avoid them—until Emily stepped aside to let them pass.
The impact sent her sprawling. She didn’t see the teens crowd around her, or the rider flee, abandoning his scooter and tossing his SIM card into bushes.
When Daniel and the kids reached the hospital, Emily was still groggy from surgery.
“We couldn’t save the baby. Early stages—there shouldn’t be complications,” the doctor said.
“This is my fault. God’s punishing me for doubting,” Emily whispered when she woke.
Oliver and Lillian clung to her.
“Don’t blame yourself. A third child is a big decision. That rider won’t be found. These scooters should be banned—people getting hurt left and right. Maybe your case will finally change things. Just focus on getting better.”
“How will you manage without me?”
“We’ll cope. Mum will help. Don’t worry.”
But Emily couldn’t stop grieving the child she’d feared, then longed for. She remembered choosing a name, whispering it to herself.
At night, she recalled the dream—the girl’s empty basket, her sorrowful eyes. A warning she’d ignored. Now she understood.
She came home as autumn deepened. Stepping outside, she breathed in the crisp air, eyes lifting to the grey sky, begging forgiveness.
Now, whenever a scooter zipped past, Emily flinched to the edge of the pavement. Headaches reminded her of the loss—the child she’d feared but then ached to hold.
Funny, how people hesitate, resist, delay… until they lose what scared them. Then all they feel is regret.
There are no accidents. Maybe the universe heard Emily’s doubts and took the choice away.
