Since then, that small detail has taken up a big space in our minds. As we make our way to the hospital on this bright July morning, there’s a quiet undercurrent of worry threading its way through the warmth and sunshine. Despite that constant hum of worry, we get ready. Rakhi stays with her Nana and Nani. She is the centre of our world and fills our hearts entirely -but today, we want to give our full attention to the little person growing inside me. I feel a rush of excitement – probably the happiest I’ve felt in a long time. Five months into this second pregnancy, I had once doubted I would ever reach this day. At one point not so long ago, I had been stuck – deep in the darkest place any woman can be.

We leave Rakhi in Edgware and hop onto the 288 bus to the station. I don’t travel on the tube often, so when I do, I’m like a big kid. Suresh, used to commuting every day, doesn’t quite get my excitement. We take the Northern Line to Warren Street. As we walk out of the station, the colour blue catches my eye – it crosses with the Victoria Line here – and a thought flickers: I wonder if this baby is a boy. I’m almost skipping as we walk to the hospital. I turn to Suresh, asking whether we should find out the sex. Maybe secretly, I want him to say yes. But he doesn’t give a straight answer. Typical. We haven’t made a decision and before I know it, we’re at the hospital, focusing instead on the details—what floor, which corridor, which desk. We check in, and barely have time to settle when we’re called in.

I lie on the couch, leggings tucked down over my tidy bump, tissue placed neatly underneath. The doctor checks that we understand the reason for the referral. I explain, and she smiles warmly. “Well, let’s have a look, shall we?” I watch her face closely, trying to read it. She keeps her eyes on the screen. Then, quickly and confidently, she says, “Both kidneys are slightly larger than what they should be – commonly referred to as bilateral dilated kidneys, but nothing to worry about. It just means your baby will be given antibiotics shortly after birth to prevent infection.” Before I can absorb that fully, she asks, “Did you want to know the sex of the baby?” I’m still catching up. I glance at Suresh – hoping for an answer – but he just says, “Up to you.” Honestly, I hate it when he does that! Maybe he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing and getting into trouble. 🙈🤣 I fumble, “Not sure… all my symptoms are just like last time, so I’m pretty certain it’s a girl…”

Still focused on the screen, the doctor blurts it out: “It’s a boy.” I’m gob smacked. I ask if she’s sure. She turns the screen toward me, wipes the probe clean, and says with certainty, “Yes. It’s a boy.” “OMG,” I repeat over and over. “I really thought it was a girl.” I feel a bit thrown. I had never imagined being a mother to a boy – only to a girl. It’s easier to visualise what you already know. I am such a natural with Rakhi, I didn’t know what to expect with a son. Would it be different? Part of me wanted Rakhi to have a sister. Every girl needs at least one amazing sister. I’m blessed with two. But then again, how wonderful to welcome a little boisterous boy into our family.

We leave the hospital, and the midday sun wraps itself around me like a soft blanket. I hold the baby scan picture in my hand, smiling. “OMG Suresh, we’re having a boy. I was so convinced it was a girl.” He keeps his thoughts tucked away, as always, and lets me carry the emotion for both of us as we walk hand in hand back to the station.

____________________________

This morning (8th Nov. 2019), I searched the house high and low for those scan pictures, hoping to share them with this year’s blog. When I couldn’t find them, I felt panic rising. How could I misplace something so precious And then it hit me – where they might be. I ran down to the office and reached for the very top shelf. Tucked safely inside Krishan’s file, there they were – along with so many memories I’d nearly forgotten I had saved. I cried long and hard as the weight of it all came pouring out.

Over the years, I’ve come to believe that the people we meet – or don’t, the paths we take – or miss, the situations we find ourselves in – or escape, all happen for reasons we can’t always see until much later. Looking back now, I understand why we were referred to UCLH – to learn the kidneys were dilated and to learn the sex of our baby. So that, when we were asked if he had a name the night he passed away, we had one ready for his hand and footprint keepsake. In a way, maybe I was protected from the pain of digging deeper into the “why” behind his passing. Because of the antibiotics, the diagnosis, the early awareness – perhaps I was spared.

Today, my little boy – Krishan, would have officially become a teenager. A teenager!😱

Love you forever, my boy. 💙

Mummy
x

P.S.
A quote I read today felt just right, and made me smile through the tears:

“How extraordinary it is to know, many people walk this earth with their mind filled with memories of you.” ~ Dane Thomas