Chapter 20

As the date for my first sight of my sons approached, more hurdles appeared. The hospital had told Tina that Piers and Lars needed to be connected to apnea monitors, but that the insurance company would not allow their machines to be taken out of the US. I would have to buy them at $4000 each. Also, I should check with the airline as some of them do not allow apnea monitors on board and would not take babies who needed them.

Would I ever get my sons out of the US? I asked the Health Visitor at the local surgery about apnea monitors. Yes, I could be supplied with two machines on loan. Now for British Airways.

I picked up the phone. The BA clerk was Scots. ‘I wonder if I could set an anxious mother’s mind at rest. I would like to take two babies on a flight, but they are used to being connected to a baby monitor, you know the sort that sends out a warning that is supposed to prevent cot death. Mothercare does a roaring trade in baby alarms.’

‘What’s the monitor called?’

‘An apnea monitor.’

‘I’ll check.’

Had I made it sound casual enough?

‘What sort of batteries does the monitor use?’

‘Not sure. Ordinary batteries, I think.’

‘If they’re the sort you can buy in the shops, like Durex, that’ll be all right.’

'Not sure you mean Durex, but they’ll run on Duracell.’

There was a hint of embarrassed amusement.

‘Is there something wrong with the babies?’

‘No, it’s just a precaution.’

The Health Visitor confirmed that the monitors would, indeed, run on Duracell batteries. One hurdle cleared.

The other was a reappearance of an earlier sticking point that I thought had been sorted out. Tina’s hospital fees. The subject had not been mentioned since Tina’s first week in hospital. The e-mail from the lawyer was terse.

‘I talked to Tina recently and she has expressed concern about the mounting medical bills that she is receiving. I assume that Vivian is in contact with you about this issue as it is her responsibility to keep you fully informed. I understand that you have insurance for the babies and that this policy is covering the bulk of their medical costs. When all of Tina’s bills come in they will run in excess of $100,000.’

It was another aspect to worry about. Was this the language barrier coming into effect? Just when I had thought something had been resolved, it was seemingly back in the melting pot. It had all appeared clear to me, but had the bankruptcy been abandoned? The US medical expenses were something I certainly hadn’t allowed for.

Going bankrupt is not to be taken lightly, at least in the UK. Maybe this, like so much else, was different in the US. I did not feel like telling the lawyer that Tina’s bankruptcy was what I wanted, partly as it was not, but mainly because I had no wish to be seen to know about it. I assumed this was what Tina wanted to do in any case to clear her own debts and asked Vivian that very question. ‘Oh, yes’ was the response.

But another message from my lawyer with another crisis came hard on its heels. The US bankruptcy laws were to change in the next few days.

‘I am perfectly happy for Vivian to look after my babies,’ I emailed back, ‘Tina and Vivian have been wonderful throughout and I trust them totally.’

Along came another hiccup. Tina wanted one of the doctor’s bills to be paid in full. As I have always paid my bills, I concurred and sent payment. However, no one can be singled out for settlement in a bankruptcy, so this doctor was not paid in full. He felt aggrieved and contacted me.

Separated by a common language and communicating in cyberspace, I felt the distance between us was a distorting mirror. Was I right in sensing an unwelcome change in the atmosphere? I imagined Tina buried beneath bankruptcy papers.

‘Will they be with you?’ I asked Vivian. ‘Have you cleared your diary?’

‘No need. I just looked after the babies for an hour or two while Tina saw her lawyer.’

There was no hint of panic or rush. Considering the amount of money at stake, not to mention the welfare of three tiny children, there was an Alice-In-Wonderland quality about the messages I was getting from America. There was panic and there was no panic. Something had been agreed and suddenly seemed not to have been agreed before being relegated to having been agreed. Was this how it would be when I was with the babies or was it just because of the distance and language? There was nothing else to do but count the moments until the babies were safely in the UK and I regained a modicum of control over my life.