My Darling Love

Chapter 7 – The Wendy That Almost Wasn't

"Before you were conceived, I wanted you.

Before you were born, I loved you.

Before you were here an hour, I would die for you."

-Maureen Hawkins

Aside from being tortured by her parents and in-laws, Mary had an uneventful pregnancy. She only had brief morning sickness in the beginning, which went away by itself in her later months. The first time she felt the life inside of her truly move on Christmas, the day she wanted her dream baby to be born. She felt a sharp swift kick that was unmistakably a foot. She grew larger and full in the waist to where her maternity clothes were snug and uncomfortable, but she never complained always treasuring every moment of it.

The stress and havoc caused by their parents did not subside in the spring, increasing instead. Out of ideas and out of luck, George and Mary decided that, when their child was born, they would take it to the church mission and put it up for adoption. Then they would move away from London and start life anew as husband and wife, somewhere else. So, on the Sunday following the last when they prayed, they met with the priest and made the arrangements. "I know this is a difficult decision for you both, and I will do everything in my power to see that this baby has the best life possible. There are many wealthy families in the church who are waiting to be blessed with life."

Mary and George signed the papers to turn the baby over, only requesting, "Not a family from this church, but from another parish elsewhere."

It was the hardest choice Mary ever had to make, but seeing her husband, her darling love, used up before her very eyes left her no other option. George was always healthy and strong, but now he'd faded into an elderly man who awoke at dawn to work and did not return until late in the night. She was sure he did not eat during the day, and he hid what little food she had packed for him back in the cupboards when he left in the morning. So she agreed, and it was decided that, in order to stay together, they would need to sacrifice further.

It made Mary furious to know both sets of parents lived in luxury, while they were trying to make their lives the best they could, and were being tyrannized on purpose. Not one with a head for numbers, she took pen to paper and wrote down all their debts. The money George had paid out to both her parents and his own, and the bills they continued to pay. Adding another insult, with the birth only days away, Mr. Baker sent the newlyweds yet another invoice, charging his only daughter for her two ruined weddings to the bigger fish. Without the continual oppression from their parents, George and Mary would have been able to afford a home of their own by now, only months after they married. It made her so angry that Mary packed their entire flat, readying both her and husband to move the moment their child was born and turned over to the priest and the orphanage.

The sixteenth day of April began just as any other for Mary. She got up, got dressed, sent her husband on his way to work after making him eat breakfast, and did her chores. Somewhere between washing the dishes and starting the laundry, Mary noticed she had a distinct cramping in her middle that came and went every few minutes. Soon, as she hung the clothes out to dry over the heater in their flat, the pain which was annoying but not bothersome became quicker and sharper, shooting pains that stretched across her belly and down into her pelvis, making her stop what she was doing until they passed. With the laundry done, Mary spent an hour grasping on tightly to the back of the chair, holding her tongue out of fear, for whatever she was feeling only came more swiftly and was increasingly more difficult to bear. One wicked jolt of contractions surged through her abdomen finally causing a rush of water to splash from her landing on the floor below. Mary cried out in absolute horror. Her next-door neighbor, a widower, beat down the door to gain access. There on the floor, lying in a pool of blood and water was Mrs. George Darling, holding inside of her a baby that was dead set on seeing the sunlight that day.

George was summoned at work and rushed home to find Mary in hard labor in their bed. She screamed for him, and he sat with her through the evening into the night and next morning. The midwife continued to check her progress but had a dismal expression every time she rose from between her legs. "It will be another day or so, probably best if you return to work. I will send for you if anything happens."

George didn't want to leave, and Mary begged him to stay, but midwife was right. If he missed more work, he would lose that job as well, and frankly, there were no more banks in London to work for. "Another day or so? Will she be in pain for that entire time?" George asked fixing on his coat. The midwife only nodded and added, "It's hard work bringing a baby into the world."

George was back to his place of employment, leaving Mary with Penny and the midwife. It was another day or so, the nineteenth of April to be exact, before Mary progressed enough to start pushing. It came in the evening, when George was home.

"Pushing?" George queried as the midwife shoved him from the room, assuring him he did not want to see his lovely wife with her legs open to the world while she expelled the baby from her body.

"Yes, Mr. Darling, Mary has to help the baby along in order for it to come out. You didn't expect a tiny baby to be able to pull itself out, now did you? No, it has to be pushed out, and your wife is the one who had to do the pushing."

George followed her back to the bedroom door, "That does not hurt as well, does it?" he asked hopefully, only to get a rather stupefied look from the midwife.

"It is the worst pain imaginable Sir. If she rips, it will be even worse than that. There is no pain a man experiences like it in the world. It's a wonder more women don't die giving birth."

Penny was with her and so was midwife, who was tired and disheveled from the "stubborn baby who doesn't want to come out," and "that husband who keeps asking the most daft questions." Finally as the bells tolled the hour before midnight, Penny peeked through the door and asked George for a word. "There is not a lot of time, George, the baby is breech. That means it wants to come out the wrong way. Mary is having an awful time and she growing weaker by the moment. She says she can't push anymore, and the baby is not helping. This is the hardest question anyone will ever ask you, but if you had to chose between Mary and the baby, George, what would it be?"

"I can't live without Mary," he responded before she finished her query. Penny nodded her head, agreeing with his answer. "What are you going to do?"

Penny gazed at George and held his face in her hands, "Everything I can to save them both." Penny turned around to go back inside without another word.

George sat on the sofa and prayed that God would listen, begging and pleading not only for Mary's life but for the life of his first born child, "Please God I swear I will break my back working to provide for them, please God have mercy on me and spare them. Give Mary the strength to go on and give my baby the desire to want to be born."

An hour later, after the bells tolled in the new day, a baby wailing behind the door could be heard. "It's a girl, Mr. Darling and a healthy one at that!" the midwife shouted to George in the doorway. Just as George had always done his best to make Mary happy, she did the same, although hers, was a more arduous task. Her body was torn, pushing the little baby into the world, and was now a broken and bleeding mess on the bed. She was barely awake, and asked for George, so he went. Before she closed her eyes to take to her rest she told him, "George, if I die, you must promise me you will keep her."

He nodded stoking her face, shedding the first tears of fatherhood, and added, "We were keeping her anyway, Mary."

With his new daughter fast asleep in the bassinet beside his desk, George sat and wrote out all their expenses and debts. He combined all the money owed to both the Bakers and the Darlings and calculated a total with interest. Then he tipped his hat to Penny who sat watching the baby, and went to see his friend the undertaker.

Not too proud to beg for a loan, the undertaker gave it willingly and told George, "It's a shame what God fearing people will do to their own children, pay me back when you can manage and I won't accept one cent of interest. If I ever see your folks or you're wife's, I'll spit on them." He finished with, "Congratulations, George, a baby girl born first, oh she'll break your heart hundreds of times before she's two, but in the end she will be the one who will bring you the most joys later in your life."

George went home and drew up a letter to both Bakers and Darlings. In it, he stated that this was the final payment of all monies he and his wife owed them, with interest. He added, choking on his frustration, that if any more harassments or bills were ever sent to the new Mr. And Mrs. George Darling, said couple would take their parents to court, and plead poverty for all the world and proper London to hear.

Upon receiving their letters and their money, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Baker and Mr. and Mrs. Frederick Darling the Fourth, fearing the bad image their children would cast upon them, conceded defeat. But they still took every single cent George paid.

Mary awoke later in the day sore and suffering as a woman who had just spent three days in hard labor should be. Even though she was to rest in bed for a few days, Mary was very interested in her new daughter. She undressed the tiny thing and checked over every spot on her body, tiny feet, tiny toes, tiny fingers and hands, chubby legs and arms, a little bottom and a baldhead. "Look George, all new parts." She held her little girl and sang her to sleep, preferring to keep her in bed with them, as opposed to the crib. Mary breastfed with no problems and always handed the little newborn off to George whenever he was home, to be burped.

George and Mary lay on the bed with their child in their laps and stared at her asleep, wrapped in a white blanket Mary had made herself. "She's our angel, Mary, our little angel from heaven."

Mary wanted to name her Georgeanne, and call her Annie for short. George preferred Gwendolyn, and Wendy for short. It was a conversation of a round about manner with the constant repetition of "whichever you like better dearest, you choose." Finally Mary chose her own favorite, Georgeanne. The only trouble was, at only a week old, she didn't look like an Annie. So before they filed for her birth certificate at the registrar's office, they changed it to Wendy. "Gwendolyn Angelina Darling," George proudly said when the clerk asked for the baby's official title. "Angelina for a middle name, that's lovely George." Mary responded holding baby Wendy in her arms. "I know its silly but she is our angel, so Angelina..." He blushed embarrassed, but Mary only smiled, "It's a far better choice then Gertrude, which was what I was to suggest."

As much as Mary loved being pregnant with George's baby she loved being a mommy more. She doted on their new arrival as best she could in her condition. The midwife had prescribed bed rest for a week. After two weeks of bleeding gave her fainting spells, a physician was called. He insisted she stay abed almost a month. Once she was back on her feet, she still needed to take rest several times during the day.

She remembered stories of her mother's experiences at her own birth, and she knew this was what it must have been like in her parent's home long ago. Just like her father, George told her there were to be no more children. "I almost lost you, there is no way I could ask you to go through that again." So instead of having three perfect darlings, Mary and George would have to settle with one, to Mary's dismay. "Look at it this way, Mary," George told her one evening, "You and Wendy will always have me outnumbered."

So, having only one child, George and Mary made the best of what they had with Wendy. They took her to the park every Saturday to play, and brought her to see God on Sunday. She loved being in the Lord's house and yelled out in baby ramblings as the choir sang their hymns. "We're sorry, Father Christopher, we try to shush her, but she loves the music."

Father Christopher was the priest who had married them, and he was the same priest who had arranged to put Wendy up for adoption while Mary still carried her. "No, of course, George, I understand. There will be no problems withdrawing the adoption papers. Between you and me, I didn't even inform the monsignor of your interest in offering your child up to another couple. Best the baby stays with her true parents."

Seeing George and Mary's child, healthy and happy with a toothless smile, made the priest's heart sing as well. "No, Mary and George, you let that baby sing in this church as much as she wants. God likes to hear the little voices giving praise as well as those in tune with the organ." Whatever free time they had, they gave to Wendy and she loved their undivided attention, calling "dada" first, for it was easier to say, and "mama" next for that was what Wendy really wanted to say.

Without the debt to their parents, they were able to save enough money to buy a small home by the time Wendy took her first steps.

George still worked two jobs and their carefree days, if there ever were any, were over. Their passion, once red hot, was now cold as ice. Mary first noticed George's aversion to her on their first anniversary. He gave her flowers and a peck on the cheek, but later, as she retired to bed in her fancy nightgown (the same one she'd worn their first night in Penny's bed) George directed her to "put something on, Mary, before you catch your death." She did, and returned to bed only to find him fast asleep.

For months, George had not made any attempt to make love to Mary after Wendy was born, and now she was celebrating her first birthday. "Maybe he fears you will have another baby," Penny offered when Mary confided to her. "You are still breastfeeding Wendy and you should not conceive another until she is weaned. But just to give George peace of mind, I will teach you the rhythm method, that is what we use and it seems to work fine." Penny taught her, although it made little difference, for George still did not offer his favors before or after Wendy was weaned.

Try as she might to seduce her husband, he did not respond to her advances. There came the first stalemate in their marriage. It began as mild bickering: "Must you leave your socks on the floor?" but soon turned into a little war of wills. Mary became cold and silent while George was insensible and uninterested in anything not having to do with Wendy.

Fearing her husband was having an affair, she confronted him with her accusation. "Good lord, Mary, whatever would make think that?" he was taken aback as well as insulted, "How dare you speak to me that way after working all day to put food on the table and pay the bills," and he too became silent. George rose in the morning and ate his breakfast reading the morning paper ignoring Mary. She washed the dishes, slamming pots, pans and dishes down to annoy him. It was the same at supper, and far more troublesome, Mary had gotten into the nasty habit of snatching Wendy from George's arms without explanation, keeping their daughter all for herself.

Little Wendy watched her parents from her crib with curious eyes. They both seemed to love her, but why not each other? As time went on, the standoff became more and more hostile. Their silence was broken, and Mary and George shouted at top of their lungs to one another, leaving Wendy crying for them to stop. George slept on the sofa and Mary in their bed and they never hugged or kissed one another, only Wendy.

Mary's monthlies returned like clockwork and George received a promotion from teller to clerk. After awhile George apologized, "I'm sorry Mary we have not gotten along better recently," but Mary wanted no part of it, "I thought we were getting along just fine George." After all she was very strong-minded. So their marriage continued, more roommates than husband and wife. George devoted all his time to work, numbers, stocks and bonds, and Mary devoted all her time to Wendy.

Gwendolyn Angelina Darling grew to a little girl of fifteen months, walking and talking and playing in the summer sun. Those were days Mary liked most. She would take her "little ray of sunshine" to the park and let her run free in the grass and flowers in bloom. Wendy loved her mother very much, all the kisses and hugs that were once only for George, her father, were now hers. She never had to share her mother with her father, for Mary ignored George when he was home. But, as much as Wendy, still only an infant, believed she alone was enough to make her mother happy, Mary had hidden the sorrow deeply in her heart. She would never admit this to Wendy or any children yet to be born, but if she ever had to choose between her children and George, in a heartbeat she would choose her husband. He was the one she promised to forsake all others for, even if she was upset with him.

The July sun was hot, and poured heat down on the city London. It was by far the warmest anyone could remember. Mary and Wendy stayed in their cool little house and hid from the heat outside. George came home from work early with flowers, pink roses, his wife's favorite. "Happy Anniversary," he declared, attempting a peck on his wife's check. She swiftly moved her head away and disregarded his flowers. "Our anniversary is in November, George, not July."

George was crushed and did not hide it, he removed his coat and went to the parlor, taking a chair nearest window and sat staring out as the sun set in the horizon and the moon appeared in the night sky. He did not come to supper when called, nor did respond when Mary told him she was retiring. Instead he sat there with a lost look on his face, as if fate had decided for him that he was to be erased from Mary's heart forever.

Mary was only a young lady of twenty. She had never finished her Aunt Millicent's lessons of the heart. To her, the battle still raged on between them. She had not realized that he had hung the white flag of surrender long ago when he first apologized until she heard him weeping the darkness. With tears in her eyes too she went to him and held him tightly to her. "George, I am so sorry. I never meant to hurt you in such a way, I just want you to want me like you once did. When we could not get enough of each other. I still have the fire burning in me, the desire to have you next to me in bed. I know I am different now that I have given birth. My figure is more full, I've tried to slim down, but to no avail..."

George looked up to her, he was older and should have known better. Women are not only fragile in body but in mind. Thinking about, he could not remember the last time he complimented her beauty or her skill keeping the house without a maid and with an infant running about. He too apologized for his actions, reassuring her he was more concerned over another baby than her larger dress size ending with, "I think you are more lovely than ever, Mary, just looking at your breast in that nightdress makes me want to..."

Without finishing his sentence they retired together to the privacy of their bedchamber for the first time since before Wendy arrived. They made love, as the newlyweds they still were, being more careful than they had in the past. George tried his hardest to remove himself before it was too late, and least this time he was successful. "I know that you are practicing a method of birth control, I'm just want to be extra careful, at least for awhile. Maybe someday we will have another..."

In the morning, he was new man, and headed to work with a smile on his face. It would be a great mystery that would haunt Wendy throughout her childhood. As she grew from infancy to a youthful sixteen, she would often wonder why certain days her father would leave for work serious and stern, not acknowledging Mary but the children, wishing them "a good day at school." While other mornings, from the moment he awoke, and as he walked from the house he held constant smile of contentment. Instead of children, he only had eyes for Mary, and would whisper in her ear as he lovingly held her about the waist while she prepared breakfast. He would depart to the bank and have to be reminded by their mother to bid them "a very fine and happy day at school," as if they were not even there in his world.

Wendy would not remember the kisses and hugs only for her, for that was the only time in their marriage that Mary and George fought openly in her presence. As she got older, Wendy would learn that forever George would have her mother's special kisses and hugs, only for him, simply because he came first. Therefore, Wendy was now made to share her mother with her father. It was a battle with a dominant opponent that Wendy would always lose. No matter how much time Mary spent with her during the day, at night (when it mattered most that she not be made to sleep by herself), George got to sleep alongside her mother in their bed. And that elusive kiss, the one in the right-hand corner of Mary's mocking mouth, the one Wendy was convinced she'd finally captured, now returned, because, once again, George put it there.

A month after George's return to their bed, he found it impossible to contain himself and control the urge to fill Mary with his seed, giving his trust that Mary was a responsible grown up and sexual partner mindful of when it was and was not safe to make love in that way. Mary, who preferred to have all of her husband including the part that made a baby inside of her, assured him she continued to practice the rhythm method Penny had taught her. But alas, just as the books of the house she had no skill in keeping, the calendar was just as challenging to her, apparently, and as the autumn blew in she missed her first monthly.

It is incorrect to think their marriage was perfect, for obviously it was not. There would be wars of wills and standoffs lasting for months later in life, but for now, they were known to have many small spats or "lover's quarrels" as Mary called them early in their marriage. The new baby she carried in her belly was one of those little squabbles that took place in their kitchen the night Mary told George she was positive another was on the way.

George hated to raise his voice and he hated to degrade his lovely wife, but her "incompetence on this very important matter," made him "furious and terribly upset." He stood with his hands on his hips shaking his head and then his finger at Mary. She sat on the kitchen chair trying to hide the smile that kept escaping her lips. "Do you know what this means? We have just gotten our affairs and debts in order and finally have the means to really begin saving."

It would have been wiser to hold her tongue, but being immature and still living in a dream of her own creation, Mary responded, "What are we saving for?"

George was flabbergasted and began pacing the kitchen, stuttering nonsense at her stupidity. "Mary, sometimes I feel as though I have two children already, you being worse than Wendy. You simply cannot have everything you want when you want it. You must grow up!" Mary held a stubborn expression as if she was five years old and was just told she was not allowed to go play in the rain.

George went to his desk, and as he had with marriage, Wendy and everything else in his life he adjusted his calculations, figuring the expense of yet another mouth to feed. After many hours hard at work, he went to Mary, already asleep and showed her his work. "I have figured that if we..." do this and that, "we can have another, but just one more." He was quite serious; still a daddy reprimanding his child, when he told her, "You are not to spend anymore money on frivolous unnecessary things. Do you understand?"

She understood and he retired to bed. Once there he held her tightly in his arms. "I'm scared." She knew why he was frightened, and she was too. Having Wendy almost killed her and there was more George feared that he did not even share with his own wife. And so, they both lay entangled in one another and said a silent prayer that God deliver her safely a new baby and watch over their growing family. Mary prayed for boy. It did not matter a baby girl would make it easier without the extra expensive of new baby things. George already had thought of that and was quite content with giving their new baby hand-me-downs. "Another little girl, I think best."