PLEASE GIVE ME A BABY
By
Ron Shillingford
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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Please Give Me A Baby
Copyright © 2011 by Ron Shillingford
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A life of sadness, loneliness and overwhelming depression was all Karen had to look forward to.
The pills in her hand washed down with overproof rum would be a quick and convenient way of relieving the pain. Having a baby was all she had ever wanted since childhood. Unfortunately, at forty-one that looked impossible now. Another broken romance meant that all the trappings of a successful career woman were there but no man nor children to share it with.
There was only one solution.
Just as she lifted her arm to pop the pills, her phone rang. Knocked out of her trance, Karen answered it.
“Hi Tessa, what’s up?”
“We made plans at La Maison, remember. Catch up time. Get your ass over here quick, we’re starving.”
Karen snapped herself out of it. She had forgotten the arrangement to meet her sisters for lunch. Tessa’s call came at an opportune time.
She flushed the pills away, hurriedly readied and jumped in her Volvo C30 R.
“Sorry girls, I thought it was next week.”
The bond between the Hurley sisters was so strong that even imminent suicide could not stop a lunch meet.
Karen regularly met up with Tessa, thirty-four, and Fifi, thirty-eight. All career women and childless under different circumstances. Karen wanted to be a mother but didn’t have a man, Tessa did not want children with her man and Fifi just could not make up her mind although her husband was keen to start a family.
They lunched at La Maison in Braintree regularly to catch up with the latest family affairs and gossip. Tessa had her own vet’s surgery and Fifi was a freelance fashion photographer.
Karen hinted at her sadness over the meal but didn’t tell her siblings the extent of it, lest they got too worried. Being with them, Karen felt secure, loved and vital. Worries about possibly being barren or a permanent spinster could wait for now.
She went home and popped some more Prozac, needing twice the recommended daily dose just to feel normal. Some Valium later gave an extra boost.
What a lot had happened in a month. Karen stopped taking anti-depressants years earlier but the ending of a two year relationship with Zak had made her spiral back into pill popping mode. Zak claimed he wanted “more space”. He even had the cheek to use the cliché: “It’s not you, it’s me babes.”
Zak actually wanted more space with the new junior secretary who seemed overnight to become his fiancé.
Karen was aware that by the time a woman hits her thirties, many of her ovarian eggs are gone for good, so chances of conceiving for her were diminishing dramatically.
She had thought of freezing the few eggs remaining or artificially inseminating, fostering and even adopting because the conventional way with a loving partner now looked almost impossible.