October 5th to 7th, 1970

    We were in Rotterdam, for the first of two consecutive nights, and I had managed not to tell Cameron about my doctor’s visit for two days. I had a loose plan in my mind that I would tell him when we returned home. After all, tomorrow would be the last show before we would all fly back to Scotland, where we would have just over one week before another dozen dates that would conclude the tour.
    I watched the show from beside the stage, trying to take in all I could. My mind wandered often, though. I couldn’t help but wonder how on in the world I would tell Cameron I was nearly ten weeks pregnant. Tossing my plan aside, I decided I would tell him at the hotel tonight.
    I hadn’t noticed, but the performance was over. I turned to walk backstage but as the band slipped into the shadows one by one, there was a rush of people trying to get as close as they could to Amoeba.
    I watched my feet as I tried to squeeze by the crowd. If I could get to the front before they did, the all-access pass I wore around my neck would get me safely backstage.
    I looked up to see how far I was from the door. It was only fifty feet or so, I realized, as I caught a glimpse of Cameron before everything went black.


    I didn’t wake often. Every time I tried to crawl into the waking world, I was lulled back to sleep by the drone of voices. Once in a while there was only one voice I heard. I knew I recognized it but I couldn’t make out who was speaking.
    When I finally woke long enough to open my eyes, it was Cameron’s worried face I saw first.
    I heard myself mumble groggily and I tried to move my hand.
    “Don’t move, Emily,” he said soothingly.
    I cried out his name, but it only came out as a whisper.
    “I’m right here.”
    It took me a few minutes to regain my voice and take in my surroundings. I realized where I was quickly, as there was something unmistakable about being in a hospital. Cameron was right beside me, looking exhausted and uncomfortable in a plastic chair beside the bed I was in.
    “What happened?” I asked, my voice shaky.
    “I’m not even sure myself,” Cameron murmured. He paused for a moment. “There was a rush when we got off the stage. I saw you fall, but I couldn’t get to you soon enough. You have two broken fingers and…” he trailed off, a choking sound in his voice.
    ‘The baby,’ I cried inside. I hadn’t even told him!
    “Cameron,” I said. My voice was as firm as I could make it sound. “I love you. I wanted to tell you at the hotel,” I began, but I realized I didn’t even know what day it was.
    “It’s been two days,” he told me when I asked. “We cancelled the last show. Everyone’s gone back to Scotland.”
    “I’m sorry,”
    “Don’t be sorry, my love.”
    “I should be. I didn’t tell you,” I began again, only to be interrupted when a doctor walked in.
    He spoke in broken English with a sad tone. “I’m sorry to tell you,” he said after giving me the positive update on my recovery, “but the pregnancy is no longer viable." 
    “Pregnancy?” Cameron’s voice was quiet but I heard him clear as day.
    The doctor left the room and I turned to look at Cameron. The fight for comprehension was evident on his features.
    “Ten weeks,” I mumbled, feeling distant from reality. “I wanted to tell you, when we got to the hotel. But I never made it that far.”
    Cameron put his head in his hands and I knew he was crying, I could hear his quiet sobs.
    “I’m so sorry, Cameron,” I moaned. I began to cry as well, and soon we were both sobbing. It killed me to see him destroyed like this.
    “Emily…. I’m sorry.”
    “What are you talking about?” I cried. “I didn’t tell you, you couldn’t have known."
    Instead of a reply, Cameron slowly stood and crawled onto the bed beside me, taking me into his arms. “I am so sorry," he repeated.
    I looked into his face and my heart tightened. His eyes were red-rimmed and fresh with tears. He looked exhausted, and I knew exactly how he felt.


    After quite some time passed, a nurse poked her head into the room. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it; she must have known what had been said to us and left us alone. When we peeled apart, Cameron got down from the bed and wiped his face.
    “Go get some air, sweetheart,” I said.
    Cameron nodded and left the room without a word. Not long after, the same nurse returned and found me bawling into my pillow.
    “Don’t be sad, girl. Maybe not right time. Maybe the baby sick,” she said in her broken English.
    I supposed she could be right, but kept quiet as she helped me into the chair beside the bed and changed the sheets. I walked to the bathroom, uneasy on my feet from two days in bed, and washed my face.
    ‘We are strong enough for this,’ I told myself, looking in the mirror. My face was lined with tears, and I seemed to have aged years in my two days in the hospital. “We are strong.”
    I went back to the freshly made bed and sat down just as Cameron came into the room.
    “Emily.”
    I met his gaze and saw the conviction in his eyes. He came to the side of the bed to stand in front of me and went on his knees.
    "I promise on my life," he told me, his voice firm but broken, "I will never let something like this happen again."
    Tears streamed down my face once more. Cameron put his arms around me, still on his knees, and rested his head on my stomach.
    Even though the fetus was damaged beyond healing, I knew he felt what I felt. A life, wasted, never being able to see the light and the love in our eyes. I put my hand on the top of his head and gently stroked his hair until he looked at me. He’d begun to cry again.
    I had never seen Cameron cry, and this was quite an introduction to the most vulnerable side of him.
    “Cameron, my love,” I spoke softly. There was nothing else to say. Nothing either of us could say, to make this any easier.

[Perspective Change: Cameron]

    We had just come off stage and reached the backstage area when I began to look for Emily. She was always waiting for me at the end of the show, with the one exception of two days ago when she had stayed at the hotel.
    I didn't see her in the main room backstage, so I turned my gaze to the crowd of people trying to get past security.
    I saw her, then, nearly being crushed between the throngs of audience members trying to reach us. I only had time to wonder why she was there before she dropped out of sight.
    I burst into a run and pushed my way through the crowd of people extending their arms to try to get a handshake or a scrap of clothing from our backs.
    I reached her and bent down to pick her up. Two of her fingers on her left hand were bent at odd angles, very obviously broken. My heart broke at the sight of her and I somehow subdued the overwhelming urge to scream. Instead, I yelled for someone, anyone, to call an ambulance.
    The ride to the hospital was excruciating. I refused to leave her side when we arrived at the hospital and they set her bones. The crunch nauseated me but I didn’t dare make a sound, in case she could somehow hear me.


    They put her in a deep sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come to me. Even when Lee walked into the room the next morning, I refused to leave her.
    "Cameron, maybe you should get some rest at the hotel. I'll stay here, if you want me to," Lee offered.
    "I'm not leaving."
    "What about the show?" he asked in surprise.
    "Cancel the show. I'm not leaving," I repeated adamantly.
    "Are you sure, Cameron? Geoff-"
    "Cancel it."
    Lee left without another word. I kept my gaze on Emily, still in a deep sleep, and hoped to God she would be alright.


    Sometime later, I had another visit from Lee. He'd brought a second chair into the room and sat beside me before speaking.
    "How is she?" he asked quietly.
    I shook my head. "She hasn't woken yet," I told him.
    "And you, Cameron?"
    I turned my head and looked at Lee without a word.
    "She'll be alright," he assured me. "And so will you."
    We sat in silence for a time, until I felt my nerves easing slightly. "You should go back to Scotland," I told him.
    "What about you two?"
    "Without a show tonight, I'm sure Geoff will have you all on a flight soon enough," I continued.
    Lee stayed with me, and we sat in silence. Only when he noticed the time did he apologize and leave to go back to the hotel.


    I woke, and looked at the clock. I must have slept for an hour, not longer. I gazed at Emily; she was still unconscious. I felt as though my heart was in pieces. I doubted she would hear me, but I had to speak to her.
    The words tumbled out of me. I apologized to her, over and over again, for everything I had put her through. I had wanted her near me with such need that I'd put her through hell, and I was ashamed.


    Hours later, I heard her stir and I immediately lifted my head. She moved her hand, just barely an inch, and tried to speak.
    "Don't move, Emily," I urged. I put my hand on hers and she mumbled my name. “I’m right here,” I answered.
    I had shifted closer to her by the time she fully opened her eyes. The discomfort of the chair I’d been in for the better part of two days was inconsequential now. She was awake.
    “What happened?” she murmured, looking disoriented.
    “I’m not even sure myself…” I admitted. “There was a rush when we got off the stage. I saw you fall, but I couldn’t get to you soon enough. You have two broken fingers and…” ‘And something else is wrong, but they won’t tell me,’ I thought, anger and shame rising inside me once more.
    “Cameron,” she said, her voice a little stronger now. “I love you. I wanted to tell you at the hotel,” she began, but then paused. “How long have I been here?”
    “It’s been two days,” I informed her. “We cancelled the last show. Everyone’s gone back to Scotland.”
    “I’m sorry,” Emily said quietly. She looked on the verge of tears.
    “Don’t be sorry, my love,” I told her. What did she have to be sorry about, when all this was my fault?
    “I should be. I didn’t tell you-”
    A doctor interrupted us when he poked his head into the room. Seeing Emily awake, he stepped forward to the foot of the bed and spoke.
    "Your fingers have been set, and they will heal well in time. You have many bruises," he said before pausing. "I'm sorry to tell you, but the pregnancy is no longer viable."
    His words rang through my ears and I heard myself repeat it. 'That's what they wouldn't tell me,' I realized.
    I wasn't looking at her, but I could see Emily watching me. By the time I met her gaze, the doctor had left the room.
    “Ten weeks. I wanted to tell you, when we got to the hotel. But I never made it that far.” I could hear the deep sadness in her voice.
    I had no words to say, and only three in my mind. 'Oh dear God.' I put my head in my hands and felt the hot tears stream down my face. What was to be done now?
    "I'm so sorry, Cameron," Emily cried.
    I reached out and put my hand on hers. "Emily," I whispered, "I'm sorry."
    "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I didn't tell you, you couldn't have known."
    Despite her insistence, I apologized once more. The sadness in the room was palatable. I stood then, and crawled into the bed beside the woman I loved so much it hurt. I took her into my arms and repeated my apology, crying once more.

    Emily cried as well, and seeing her so hurt made me feel lost. I had promised to keep her safe and I had failed. I wanted nothing in the world more than to go back in time and keep her from being there at that moment. So we could have this child together.

    “Go get some air, sweetheart,” Emily told me when I finally got up off of the bed.
    ‘Sweetheart? How can you call me that after what I’ve done?’
    I nodded and stepped outside into the hall, seeing a nurse glide past me and enter the room.
    I could hear Emily crying and the sound ripped out my heart. There was nothing I could do to lessen this pain we felt together. I hadn’t known about the pregnancy, but if I had, would I have been able to change what happened? I told myself that no, I wouldn't have been able to, but it was no comfort.
    I could hear the nurse speaking quietly to Emily and couldn’t bear the sound of her crying. As much as I wanted to wipe her tears away and hold her, the pain was like searing hot metal in my chest. I briskly walked away from the room, walking around the floor twice before I felt I had gathered myself to some degree.
    Once I reentered the room, Emily was sitting on the edge of the bed and I knew what I had to do.
    “Emily,” I began, getting on my knees in front of her and speaking with a burning passion. “I promise on my life I will never let something like this happen again.”
    I only had time to see the tears well up in her eyes before I put my arms around her stomach and put my head to her womb. I knew as well as she did that there was no life left inside, but the ghost of the promise of life was as present as the sadness. I felt drops of wetness on the top of my head, and then her hands as she gently pet my hair. I couldn’t help it, and began to cry again.
    ‘Dear Lord, may this sadness never return.