This month's featured story

Cassie

This month's featured story is written by one of our judges - Ann Burnett

It’s the smell that gets to me first. It’s that yukky hospital smell, disinfectant and polish and a touch of boiled cabbage that makes me want to be sick. I try to breathe deeply and look at the wallpaper frieze going round the room at waist height.
            ‘Ok there?’ A midwife with Helen on her name tag touches my arm as she passes.
           I nod and continue to stare at the frieze. It’s rabbits and daisies twining and dancing all the way round the room. There’s a break where the bed is but I move my eyes quickly across that and follow the little brown bunnies till they reach the door.
           I wish I could leave but there’s no way out now. I’m committed. Mum must have seen how scared I’m feeling because she reaches out and takes my hand. I feel tears welling up and I make myself smile at her to let her know I’m really ok. I don’t trust my voice.
            The hands of the clock on the wall above the bed move on so slowly, you’d think they’d stopped. 11.15am. I wonder what Tracy and Marilyn are doing just now. It’s Tuesday. Third lesson. That’s maths with old Mrs Trumpet. She’s not old and her name’s not Trumpet but that’s what we call her as she’s got this deep, loud voice which blasts you every so often.
            ‘Cassie, what’s your answer?’ she’ll ask me and I’ll study my page and pretend I’m thinking when really I haven’t a clue what she’s been talking about. Maths is so not my favourite subject but right now I’d give anything to be sitting there beside Tracy instead of in Longbank Maternity Unit.
            I suppose I should have known but you don’t think about that, do you? The signs were all there, the rushing to the toilet every morning, the tummy bulge when things wouldn’t fit any more but you just don’t expect it. I tried to keep it quiet but of course, news travels fast around here so it wasn’t long before everybody at school knew. I tried to shrug it off and put on a bright face as if I wasn’t embarrassed and it was a smashing thing to happen. But inside I was quaking and mortified and upset. It was going to change everything. My life wouldn’t be the same. I’d probably be expected to stay in and look after it instead of going out with my mates.
           Helen bustles in again.
           ‘How are things going? Would you like a drink?’
            Mum and I both say yes. I’m suddenly thirsty and a coke or an orange drink would go down fine but I don’t suppose that’s what they have. I’m right. The midwife returns with two plastic cups of water. It’s nice and cold though and I sip it slowly. Mum knocks it back as if it was something stronger.
           Then the door cautiously opens and a head pokes round. It’s Stuart, my step-dad. I’m pleased to see him as I actually like him a lot as he’s fun and when he has to tell me off about something, he takes me quietly to one side away from Andrew and Ian, my younger brothers. Then he talks to me as if I was quite grown up and sensible, which, I admit, I’m not all the time.
           Stuart’s been great about this and very supportive. He’s understood a lot about how I’ve been feeling and taken time to talk to me and help me through it all.
           Now he looks a bit unsure of himself.
           Mum puts him right. ‘Come on in, you daft galoot, and shut the door. There’s one hell of a draught.’ Trust mum to lighten the atmosphere. I laugh too loudly and Stuart comes and sits beside me.
           ‘All right, young un’?’ he says, kissing my forehead.
           Suddenly I want to cry and have my mum cuddle me and make things all right. But I’m too big for that now so I let myself lean against Stuart and pretend to yawn. We’ve been here since 6am so I suppose I’m entitled to feel tired. Actually I’m so keyed up I couldn’t fall asleep even if I was in my own bed.
           Then things really start happening. I find myself clutching the gas and air thingy and wondering what to do with it. Another midwife comes in with a crib and Helen puts on plastic gloves and I know that this is it. I shut my eyes and think of Mrs Trumpet going over quadratic equations and probability and try to remember the formula for finding the area of...
           ‘Look!’ the midwife’s saying. ‘Look now and you’ll see the baby coming.’
           I open my eyes and there’s a head covered in black hair. Then another push and the baby’s there. It’s actually born. The tears are running down my cheeks and I look up and Mum’s crying too and even Stuart is wiping his eyes. The only one in our family not crying is the baby. The midwife picks it up. ‘Can you see what it is?’ she asks me.
           ‘It’s a girl,’ I yell. ‘Mum, it’s a girl.’ And then I see that the pair of them are smiling and I realise they’ve known all along they were having a girl.
           ‘Say hello to your wee sister,’ Mum says as she takes the baby in her arms. ‘Now what about a name for her? Anything you’d particularly like?’
           The next half hour just flies and then at last, I’m sitting in a chair and mum passes the baby to me. My wee sister. I don’t care if I’m fifteen years older than her, it doesn’t matter any more.
           Mum and Stuart look so happy. I feel rotten having put them through such a bad time when all they wanted was a baby together. I can’t wait to show her off to Tracy and the rest. I might even tell Mrs Trumpet.