Madeleine Read Online Free PDF

before. He recommended that I come into the hospital for the transfer immediately. Suddenly, we both felt very despondent. If a ‘perfect’ cycle hadn’t worked, what were the chances of this one being successful? Two embryos were placed inside my uterus but this time we did not allow ourselves to get even slightly excited and the cotton-wool coddling went out of the window. I arrived home from the hospital and headed straight into the garden to do some planting. If this was going to work, it would, I told myself. But I wasn’t holding my breath.
    Given what had happened after our first attempt, we decided to do a pregnancy test at home the night before I was due to have the hospital test, so that if it was negative we could shed all our tears in private. A faint blue line appeared on the indicator. Gerry and I looked at each other. ‘It’s not dark enough,’ I said, although I knew the instructions advised that any line should be interpreted as a positive result. I just didn’t dare trust it.
    I finally fell asleep that night in a strange state of controlled emotion. The next morning at the hospital the positive pregnancy test was confirmed. Everyone was ecstatic but no one, of course, more so than Gerry and me. Inevitably there were more tears, but this time they were happy tears. I felt like a different woman: taller, buoyant, instantly radiant. I could not stop smiling. I thanked God every hour. We didn’t tell anyone, family or friends, for a couple of weeks – we were too concerned about tempting fate and somehow, at that early stage, it just didn’t feel real. For days on end I would repeat to myself, ‘I have a positive pregnancy test, I have a positive pregnancy test,’ rather than acknowledging, ‘I’m pregnant.’ It wasn’t until I had an ultrasound scan at six weeks and we saw a little beating heart that I allowed myself to believe it.
    And that was the first time we saw our little Madeleine. Even then she was beautiful.
    I remember how lovely it felt telling my mum and dad that they were going to be grandparents. Of course, they were overjoyed. I’m sure the heartache over the problems we’d had conceiving, added to the fact that, as an only child, I was their only chance of grandchildren, made this baby especially precious to them.
    My pregnancy was totally without complication. No sickness, no back pain, no bleeding, no swelling. I felt great. I swam at least every other day, right up to the day before I went into labour. And I absolutely loved being pregnant. Rubbing body lotion over my bump was such a beautiful feeling, like touching my baby. In common with most mothers, I’m sure, I will remember for ever the amazing sensation, the pure intimacy, of my baby moving around inside me. Neither Gerry nor I wanted to know whether we were expecting a boy or a girl. I’m well known for liking surprises – one of those people who refuses to open even a single present before Christmas Day. For some reason I always thought of the baby as a boy. I’ve no idea why – perhaps simply because I’d visualized myself in many a dreamy moment with a little boy – who knows? We’d settled on the name Aidan, and although we had tossed around a few options for a girl, there wasn’t one in particular we agreed on.
    On 12 May 2003, at a routine antenatal appointment nine days before my due date, I was found to be already in labour. Like many first-time mothers, I’d had it all planned out – the music I wanted to play, the snacks I’d have to hand, the cooling mist spray for my face – but in the event I was whisked straight into the maternity unit and until Gerry was summoned I didn’t even have the customary pre-packed overnight bag. When it came to it, though, I wasn’t interested in any distractions, just completely focused on the job I had to do. As Gerry offered words of encouragement, I rocked from side to side, biting down on the gas-and-air mouthpiece. It occurred to me that I must look like