I’ve been holding Adam’s hand for hours; my fingers tingle with pins and needles but I don’t let go of him for a second. I’m in despair that Oliver has given up on us. It’s only a matter of time before he sends us home. A few days ago I’d been searching for a way to fly us back to the UK but now the thought of being in a crowded NHS hospital, with overworked nurses who have the best intentions but not enough time for their patients, is horribly depressing. I know Oliver will initially send us to a private hospital but he can’t fund that forever, can he?

Two years. Twelve years. Twenty years.

Here, with this large private room, with Luis and the team, Adam is in the best hands. Will he even survive a flight?

I have never felt more alone.

Oliver cracks open the door.

‘Anna, do you want to talk?’ he asks, but I don’t reply. Anything I say would come out in a rush of anger or a rush of tears and neither would be helpful. When he said his decision was final, I knew that he meant it. There is nothing to say that we haven’t already said. If I’d thought things looked bleak before, now they are desolate.

‘Anna?’ Oliver says again, but I do not answer because he has taken all the words. He has taken all of my hope.

‘Night then.’ He slips away. Luis is dozing on a chair in the corner and I am alone once more with too much time and too many thoughts.

It is quiet. At home Adam would always be streaming Spotify. Oasis would be ‘Supersonic’, the Arctic Monkeys asking ‘Do I Wanna Know’.

Oliver has connected to Adam and seen nothing. Has all of this been only in my mind? My desire manifesting a happy marriage, a baby. Conversations flowing with kindness and respect. The trial had made me fall in love with my husband all over again but have I fallen in love with him or an ideal my mind has created? The version of a life I so desperately wanted. I close my eyes and try to recall the details of giving birth, but it doesn’t seem real.

What if it wasn’t?

But I can hear the cry of my child that I never got to hold. Never got to find out if it was a boy or a girl.

Now Oliver has said we can’t try again, I will never know.

The room, which had fallen into shadows, slips into darkness. The only glow a soft yellow lamp angled towards Adam’s bed. Luis sneezes.

‘Excuse me.’

‘Are you okay?’ I whisper. He’s been quiet today.

‘Coming down with a cold, I think.’

‘Should you be near Adam?’ I’m alarmed.

‘I think I’ll find someone to cover me. Get some rest.’