Читать книгу The Midwife's Christmas Baby - Kate Hardy - Страница 14

ELLA WAS ON a late shift on the Monday morning, and called her GP’s surgery as soon as they were open. To her surprise and delight, the GP was able to see her that morning before her shift.

‘How are you feeling?’ the GP asked when Ella told her she was pregnant.

‘Fairly shocked,’ Ella admitted. ‘I didn’t think this would ever happen, after what the doctors told me in London. But, now I’ve had a couple of days to get used to the idea, I’m thrilled.’

‘Good.’ The GP smiled. ‘Congratulations. Are you having any symptoms?’

‘A bit of morning sickness—it’s not much fun if one of the dads-to-be on the ward is wearing a ton of aftershave, or if anyone at work’s drinking coffee,’ Ella admitted.

‘I don’t need to tell you that you should feel a lot better by the time you’re twelve weeks.’

Ella smiled back. ‘No. It’s weird, because I’m usually the one giving that advice.’

‘And you’ve already done a test?’ the GP asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Then there’s not much point in doing a second one,’ the GP said. ‘Given your medical history, though, I’d like to send you for an early scan. As you work at Teddy’s, would you rather go there or would you prefer to book in for your antenatal care somewhere else?’

‘Teddy’s is fine,’ Ella confirmed.

‘Good. I’ll put a call through to the ultrasound department this morning. Reception will contact you with the date and time.’

‘That’s great—thank you very much.’

By the time Ella got to Teddy’s, the GP’s surgery had already sent her a text with the date and time of her scan. Ella wasn’t sure whether she was more relieved or shocked to discover that the scan was tomorrow morning, an hour before her shift was due to start.

Someone was bound to see her in the waiting room for the ultrasound, so the whole department would know about the baby very quickly. Which meant that Ella needed to find Annabelle and tell her the news herself. The last thing she wanted was for her best friend to hear about the baby from hospital gossip, especially as she knew what Annabelle had been through over the last few years.

Annabelle was in her office, clearly writing up some reports. Ella knocked on the door, opened it slightly and leaned through the gap. ‘I can see you’re really busy,’ she said, ‘but can I have a quick word?’

‘Sure,’ Annabelle said. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Yes—there’s just something I wanted to tell you.’ Then Ella looked more closely at her friend. ‘There’s something different about you.’

‘How do you mean, different?’ Annabelle asked.

‘You look happier than I’ve seen you in a long, long time.’

Annabelle smiled. ‘That’s because Max and I are back together. For good.’

‘Really?’ Thrilled for her friend, Ella leaned over the desk and hugged her. ‘That’s fabulous news.’

‘All those years I thought I’d failed him because I couldn’t give him children.’ Annabelle blew out a breath. ‘But he says I’m enough for him, Ella. He doesn’t need a family to feel we’re complete.’

‘I’m so pleased.’ Ella paused. ‘So this means you’re not going to try IVF again?’

‘No. We might consider adopting in the future, but we need time to think about it. And time just to enjoy each other,’ Annabelle said. ‘So what’s your news?’

Even though Annabelle seemed to be OK with the idea of not trying for a family, Ella knew that this was still a sensitive subject. ‘There isn’t an easy way to say this.’

‘Oh, no. Please don’t tell me you’re leaving Teddy’s.’

‘No.’ At least, she hoped she wasn’t going to have to leave. ‘Annabelle, I wanted you to know before anyone else on the ward does—because everyone’s going to know after tomorrow. And I really don’t want this to upset you.’

‘Now you’re really worrying me. Is it another cyst?’ Annabelle bit her lip. ‘Or—and I really hope it isn’t—something more sinister?’

Ella took a deep breath. ‘No. Nothing like that.’

‘Then will you please put me out of my misery?’

‘I’m pregnant.’

‘Pregnant?’ Annabelle’s blue eyes widened. ‘That’s the last thing I expected you to tell me. But—how?’

Ella squirmed. ‘Basic biology?’

‘Apart from the fact that you’re not dating anyone—or, if you are, you haven’t told me about him—there’s your endometriosis and that ruptured cyst and all the damage to your Fallopian tubes,’ Annabelle pointed out. ‘I thought the doctors in London said there was no chance of you conceiving?’

‘They did. But I guess there was a billion to one chance after all.’ A Christmas miracle. One Ella had never dared to dream about.

‘I don’t know what to say. Are you...well, happy about it?’ Annabelle asked cautiously.

Ella nodded. Yet, at the same time, part of her was sad. This wasn’t how she’d dreamed of things being when she was a child; she’d imagined having a partner who loved her. That definitely wasn’t the situation with Oliver.

‘Congratulations. I’m so pleased for you.’ Annabelle hugged her. ‘How far are you?’

‘Seven weeks.’

‘Your mum will be over the moon at the idea of being a granny.’

Ella smiled. ‘I know. I’m going to tell her at Christmas when I go back to Ireland. Or maybe I’ll take a snap of the scan photograph on my phone and send it to her tomorrow.’

‘You’ve got a dating scan tomorrow? That’s fantastic. Do you want me to come with you?’ Annabelle asked.

‘That’s lovely of you to offer, but it’s fine.’

‘Of course. I guess the dad will want to be there.’

Dear Annabelle. She was clearly dying to know who it was, but she wasn’t going to push her friend to share all the details until Ella was ready.

‘The dad,’ Ella said, ‘is being just a little bit bossy at the moment and trying to wrap me up in cotton wool.’

Annabelle raised an eyebrow. ‘He doesn’t know you very well, then?’

‘It’s complicated.’ Ella took a deep breath. ‘I’m not actually dating him. And I’m not sure I’m ready for everyone to know who it is.’

‘Sienna, mark two?’ Annabelle asked wryly. ‘Well, that’s your right if you want to keep it to yourself. And you know I have your back.’

Ella smiled. ‘I know.’ Which was precisely why she was going to tell her best friend the truth. ‘Obviously this is totally confidential—it’s Oliver.’

‘Oliver?’ Annabelle asked in a scandalised whisper. ‘As in our Assistant Head of Obstetrics?’

Ella winced. Was it so unlikely? ‘Yes.’

‘But... When?’

‘The night of the charity ball. We danced together. A lot. He drove me home. And we...’ She shrugged. ‘Well...’

‘I had no idea you even liked him.’

‘I’ve liked him since the moment I met him,’ Ella admitted. ‘But I never said anything because I always thought he was way out of my league.’

Annabelle scoffed. ‘You’re lovely, and anyone who says otherwise has me to answer to.’

‘But you know what the hospital gossip’s like. They say he only dates people a couple of times—and they’re usually tall, willowy women who look like models or movie stars. As in the opposite of me.’

‘You’re beautiful,’ Annabelle said loyally.

‘Thank you, but we both know I’m not Oliver’s type. I’m too short and too round. And he... Well.’ Ella had absolutely no idea how Oliver felt about her. He was being overprotective, but was that because of the baby?

‘So what are you going to do?’ Annabelle asked.

‘I’m still working that out,’ Ella admitted.

‘Is he going to support you?’

‘He’s pretty much driven me crazy—presenting me with a box of folic acid, telling me to cut back on my shifts...’

‘Ah. The protective male instinct coming out. And you sent him away with a flea in his ear?’

Ella nodded. ‘You know how hard I worked to get through my exams. I’m not going to give all that up now.’

‘So what do you want him to do?’

‘Be part of the baby’s life,’ Ella said promptly. ‘And not boss me about. Except I want him to be there because he wants to be there, not just because he thinks he ought to be there.’

‘What does he say?’ Annabelle asked.

‘It’s—’ But Ella didn’t get the chance to finish the conversation, because one of their colleagues came in, needing Annabelle to come and see a patient.

‘We’ll talk later,’ Annabelle promised, on her way out of the door. Except Ella had a busy shift, starting with a normal delivery and then one that turned complicated, so she didn’t have time to catch up with Annabelle.

Everything was fine in her second delivery; there were no signs of complications and no signs of distress as she monitored the baby.

But, as the mum started to push, Ella realised that she was having difficulty delivering the baby’s face and head. The classic sign of the baby having a ‘turtle neck’ told her exactly what the problem was: shoulder dystocia, meaning that the baby’s shoulder was stuck behind the mum’s pubic bone. And in the meantime it meant that the umbilical cord was squashed, so the baby had less oxygenated blood reaching her.

‘Sophie, I need you to stop pushing,’ Ella said calmly. She turned to the trainee midwife who was working with her. ‘Jennie, please can you go and find Charlie? Tell him we have a baby with shoulder dystocia, then get hold of whichever anaesthetist and neonatal specialist is on call and ask them to come here.’

‘What’s happening?’ Sophie asked, looking anxious.

‘Usually, after the baby’s head is born, the head and body turns sideways so the baby’s shoulders pass comfortably through your pelvis. But sometimes that doesn’t happen because the baby’s shoulder gets stuck behind your pubic bone,’ Ella explained. ‘That’s what’s happened here. So we need a bit of extra help to get the baby out safely, and that’s why I’ve asked our obstetrician to come in. There will be a few people coming into the room and it’ll seem crowded and a bit scary, but please try not to worry. We’re just being super-cautious and making sure that someone’s there immediately if we need them, though with any luck we won’t need any of them.’

‘Does this happen very often?’ Sophie asked, clearly in distress.

‘Maybe one in a hundred and fifty to one in two hundred births,’ Ella said. ‘Try not to worry, Sophie. I’ve seen this happen a few times before, and we can still deliver the baby normally—but right now I’m going to have to ask you to stop pushing and change your position a bit so we can get the baby’s shoulder unstuck and deliver her safely.’

‘Anything you say,’ Sophie said. ‘I just want my baby here safely.’ A tear trickled down her face.

‘I know.’ Ella squeezed her hand. ‘I promise you, it’s all going to be fine. Now, I want you to lie on your back, then wriggle down so your bum’s right at the very edge of the bed. Can you do that for me?’

‘I think so.’ Sophie panted a bit, clearly trying to hold back on pushing, and then moved down the bed according to Ella’s directions.

Charlie came in with Jennie, followed by the anaesthetist and neonatal specialist. Ella introduced everyone to Sophie. ‘Charlie, I want to try the McRoberts manoeuvre first,’ she said quietly. It was the most effective method of getting a baby’s shoulder unstuck, and would hopefully avoid Sophie having to have an emergency section.

‘That’s a sound decision,’ Charlie said as he quickly assessed the situation. ‘I’ve got another delivery, so if you’re confident with this I’ll leave you and the team. I’ll be in the birthing suite next door—my patient’s waters have just broken.

‘I’m good, Charlie,’ Ella said, then turned her attention back to Sophie as Charlie departed, leaving her to manage the birth.

‘Sophie, I’d like you to bend your knees and pull your legs back towards your tummy,’ Ella said. ‘Jennie’s here to help you. What that does is to change the angle of your spine and your pelvis and that gives the baby a little bit more room, and then hopefully we’ll be able to get her shoulder out a lot more easily. You’ll feel me pushing on your tummy—it shouldn’t hurt, just feel like pressure, so tell me straight away if it starts to hurt, OK?’

‘All right,’ Sophie said.

While Jennie helped move Sophie’s legs into position, Ella pressed on Sophie’s abdomen just above her pubic bone. It wasn’t quite enough to release the baby’s stuck shoulder, and she sighed inwardly. ‘Sophie, I’m afraid her shoulder’s still stuck. I’m going to need to give you an episiotomy to help me get the baby out.’

‘I don’t care,’ Sophie said, ‘as long as my baby’s all right.’

Which was what Ella was worried about. There was a risk of Sophie tearing and having a postpartum haemorrhage—but more worrying still was that the brachial plexus, a bundle of nerves in the baby’s shoulder and arm, could be stretched too much during the birth and be damaged.

‘OK. You’ll feel a sharp scratch as I give you some local anaesthetic,’ Ella said as she worked. ‘And you won’t feel the episiotomy at all.’ Swiftly, she made the incision and then finally managed to deliver the baby’s head.

‘Here we go—I think someone’s all ready to meet her mum.’ She clamped the cord, cut it, and handed the baby to Sophie while mentally assessing the baby’s Apgar score.

‘Oh, she’s so beautiful—my baby,’ Sophie said.

The baby yelled, and everyone in the room smiled. ‘That’s what we like to hear,’ Ella said softly. ‘Welcome to the world, baby.’

While Ella stitched up the episiotomy, the neonatal specialist checked the baby over. ‘I’m pleased to say you have a very healthy little girl,’ she said. ‘She’s absolutely fine.’

Ella helped Sophie get the baby latched on, and the baby took a couple of sucks before falling fast asleep.

‘We’ll get you settled back on the ward, Sophie,’ Ella said. ‘But if you’re worried about anything at all, at any time, you just call one of us.’

‘I will. And thank you,’ Sophie said, tears running down her face. ‘I’m so glad she’s here.’

Oliver called in to one of the side rooms to see Hestia Blythe; he’d delivered her baby the previous evening by Caesarean section, after a long labour that had failed to progress and then the baby had started showing signs of distress.

‘How are you both doing?’ he asked with a smile.

‘Fine, thanks.’ Hestia smiled back at him. ‘I’m a little bit sore, and I’m afraid I made a bit of a fuss earlier.’ She grimaced. ‘I feel so stupid, especially because I know how busy the midwives are and I should’ve just shut up and let them get on with helping people who really need it.’

‘You’re a new mum who needed a bit of help—you’re allowed to make a fuss until you get used to doing things,’ Oliver said. ‘Nobody minds.’

She gave him a rueful look. ‘I needed help to get my knickers on this morning after my shower and it was so, so pathetic. I actually cried my eyes out about it. I mean—how feeble is that?’

‘You’re not the first and you definitely won’t be the last. Remember, you had twenty-four hours of labour and then an emergency section,’ Oliver said. ‘I’d be very surprised if you didn’t need help with things for a day or two. And the tears are perfectly normal with all the hormones rushing round your body.’

‘That’s what that lovely midwife said—Ella—she was so kind,’ Hestia told him. ‘She said it was the baby blues kicking in early and everything will seem much better in a couple of days.’

‘She’s right. When you’ve had a bit of sleep and a chance to get over the operation, you’ll feel a lot more settled,’ Oliver agreed. And, yes, Ella was lovely with the patients. He’d noticed that even the most panicky new mums seemed to calm down around her.

‘May I have a look at your scar, to see how you’re healing?’ he asked.

Hestia nodded. ‘You kind of lose all your ideas of dignity when you have a baby, don’t you?’

He smiled. ‘We do try not to make you feel awkward about things, so please tell me if anything I say or do makes you uncomfortable. We want to make your stay here at Teddy’s as good as it can be.’

‘I didn’t mean that,’ she said, ‘more that you don’t feel shy or embarrassed about things any more—you get used to people looking at all the bits of you that aren’t normally on view!’

‘There is that,’ Oliver agreed. He examined her scar. ‘I’m pleased to say it looks as if you’re healing very nicely. How’s the baby?’

‘He’s feeding really well,’ Hestia said. ‘I found it a bit tricky to manage at first, but Ella sat down with me and showed me how to get the baby to latch on. She was really patient with me.’

‘That’s great. May I?’ He indicated the crib next to the bed.

‘Of course.’

Obviously she saw the goofy smile on his face when he looked at the baby because she said, ‘You can pick him up and have a cuddle, if you like.’

‘Yes, please.’ Oliver grinned. ‘This is one of my favourite parts of the job, cuddling a little one I helped to bring into the world. Hello, little man. How are you doing?’ He lifted the baby tenderly and stroked the baby’s cheek.

The baby yawned and opened his gorgeous dark blue eyes.

It was always a moment Oliver loved, when a newborn returned his gaze. But today it felt particularly special—because in a few months he knew he’d be doing this with his own baby. ‘He’s gorgeous, Hestia.’

‘You’re a natural at holding them,’ Hestia said. ‘Is that from your job, or do you have babies of your own?’

‘My job,’ he said. Though now he was going to have a baby of his own. And, the more he thought about the idea, the more it brought a smile to his face.

A baby.

His and Ella’s.

Right now they weren’t quite seeing eye to eye, but he’d make more of an effort. Because this really could work. He liked Ella and he knew she liked him. They were attracted to each other, or Hallowe’en wouldn’t have happened. And love...? Oliver had stopped believing in that a long time ago. But he thought they could make a good life together, for the baby’s sake.

He just needed to convince Ella.

‘I was wondering,’ Hestia said. ‘My husband and I were talking, this morning, and you were so good with us last night. If it wasn’t for you, we might not have our little boy now. And we’d like to name the baby after you. If that’s all right?’ she added.

‘I’d be honoured,’ Oliver said. ‘Though I wasn’t the only one in Theatre with you, so it’d be a bit greedy of me to take all the glory.’

‘You were the one who saved our baby,’ Hestia insisted. She peered over at his name tag. ‘Oliver. That’s such a lovely name.’

Oliver stared down at the baby. If Ella had a boy, would she want to call him Oliver? Or maybe Oliver as a middle name?

The baby started to grizzle and turn his head to the side. ‘It looks as if someone’s hungry.’ He handed little Oliver over to his mum. ‘Are you OK latching on now, or would you like me to get one of the midwives?’

‘I’ll manage—you’ve all been so great,’ Hestia said.

‘Good. If you need anything, let us know OK?’

‘I will,’ she promised. ‘But right now all I can think about is my little Oliver here. And how he’s the best Christmas present I could’ve asked for.’

Oliver smiled at her and left the room.

The best Christmas present I could’ve asked for.

In a way, that was what Ella had given him.

Needing to see her, he went in search of her.

‘She’s writing up her notes from her last delivery in the office,’ Jennie, one of their trainee midwives, told him. ‘The baby had shoulder dystocia.’

Which meant extra forms, Oliver knew. ‘Did everything go OK?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ He headed for the midwives’ office. Ella was sitting at the desk; as usual, she’d dictated something first into her phone, and it looked as if she was listening to her notes and then typing them up a few words at a time. Oliver knew from reading Ella’s file that she was dyslexic; he assumed that this was the way she’d learned to manage it, and it was also the reason why she wore coloured glasses when she was reading notes or sitting at a computer.

He rapped on the glass panel of the door to get her attention, then opened it and leaned round it. ‘Hi. I hear you just had a baby with shoulder dystocia.’

She nodded. ‘There were absolutely no signs of it beforehand. The baby weighed three and a half kilograms and the mum didn’t have gestational diabetes.’

‘Prediction models aren’t much help, as they’re based on the baby’s actual weight rather than the predicted weight, so don’t blame yourself for it. In half of shoulder dystocia cases, we don’t have a clue in advance, plus not all of them are big babies or from diabetic mothers,’ Oliver said. ‘How did it go?’

‘Fine. As soon as I realised what was happening, I asked Jennie to get Charlie, the anaesthetist and the neonatal specialist. The McRoberts manoeuvre didn’t quite work so I had to give her an episiotomy and guide the baby out, but the baby was fine and there’s no sign of a brachial plexus injury. I’m going to keep an eye on Sophie—the mum—for postpartum haemorrhage.’

‘Good job.’ She looked so tired right now, Oliver thought. Having to concentrate on typing must be hard for her. ‘Do you want a hand filling in the shoulder dystocia form?’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’m not that hopeless, Oliver.’

And then the penny dropped. She obviously worried that people thought she was less than capable because of her dyslexia. Maybe in the past people had treated her as if she was stupid; that would explain why she’d overreacted to him buying the folic acid, because it had made her feel that he thought she was stupid.

‘You’re not hopeless at all, but you look tired,’ he said, ‘and filling in forms is a hassle even if you don’t have to struggle with dyslexia as well.’ He remembered what Ella’s tutor said in her reference: ignore the exam results because Ella was an excellent midwife and could always tell you every last detail of a case. It just took her a lot longer than most to write it up. The exams must’ve been a real struggle for her, even if she’d been given extra time or the help of a scribe during the papers. And yet she’d never once given up. ‘You could always dictate it to me and I’ll type it up for you,’ he suggested.

She narrowed her eyes even further. ‘Would you make the same offer to anyone else on your team?’

She was worried about him showing favouritism towards her because of the baby? ‘Actually, yes, I would,’ he said. ‘That’s the point. We’re a team, at Teddy’s. And I’m responsible for my team’s well-being. Which includes you.’ He pulled up a chair next to her, brought the keyboard in front of him and angled the screen so they could both see it. ‘Right. Tell me what to type.’

Again she looked wary, and he thought she was going to argue with him; but then she nodded and dictated everything to him. Just as he’d expected, she was meticulous and accurate.

‘Thank you,’ she said when he’d finished typing.

‘Any time. You know your stuff and you pay attention to our mums, so you made that really easy for me.’ But she looked so tired, almost forlorn, and it worried him. He wanted to make things better. Now. He gave in to the impulse and rested his palm against her cheek. ‘Tell me what you need.’

‘Need?’

Her pupils were suddenly huge and his mouth went dry. Was she going to say that she needed him? Because, right now, he needed her, too. Wanted to hold her. Wanted to kiss her.

When she said nothing, he rubbed his thumb lightly against her skin. ‘Cup of tea? Sandwich? Because I’m guessing the staff kitchen is a no-go area for you right now.’

‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ she admitted. ‘And a sandwich. Anything really, really bland.’

‘Give me five minutes,’ he said. ‘And, for the record, I’m not trying to be bossy. You’ve had a busy shift with a tough delivery, and I bet you haven’t had the chance of a break today. I want to be there for you and our baby, Ella.’

He’d said the magic word, Ella thought as she watched Oliver leave the office. ‘Our’, not ‘my’. So maybe she wasn’t going to have to fight him for her independence.

He came back with the perfect cup of tea, a cheese sandwich and an apple that he’d cored and sliced for her. Ella felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘Oh, Oliver.’

‘Don’t cry.’

But she couldn’t stop the tears spilling over. He wrapped his arms round her, holding her close and making her feel cherished and protected, and that only made her want to cry more.

Hormones, that was all it was. And if someone came into the office and saw them, people might start to talk. Although Ella dearly wanted to stay in his arms, she wriggled free. ‘Oliver. People are going to start gossiping if they see us like this.’

‘No—they’ll think you’re tired after a long shift, and I’m doing exactly what I would for any colleague. Being supportive.’

‘I guess.’ She paused. ‘I’ve got an appointment through for the scan.’

He went very still. ‘Are you asking me to come with you?’

‘If you want to.’

There was a brief flash of hunger in his eyes. Did that mean he wanted to be there, or did he think it was his duty? She didn’t have a clue how he felt about her, and she wasn’t ready to ask—just in case the answer was that he saw it as his duty.

‘But if anyone asks why, it’s because you’re supporting your colleague,’ she said. ‘I’m not ready for the world to know about—well.’ She shrugged. There wasn’t an ‘us’. What should she call it? A fling? A mistake? The most stupid thing she’d ever done in her life?

And yet the end result had been something she’d always thought was beyond her reach. The most precious gift of all. Something that made her heart sing every time she thought about the baby.

‘Noted,’ he said, his voice expressionless. ‘What time?’

‘Eleven.’

‘I’ll be there,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to meet you in the waiting area outside the ultrasound room, or here?’

‘I think the waiting area would be best.’ If they went together from here, their colleagues were bound to start speculating, and she really didn’t want that. Not until she knew what was really happening between her and Oliver.

‘All right.’

‘I guess I’d better finish writing up my notes,’ she said. ‘And then I want to check on Sophie—the mum—to see how she and the baby are doing. And I promised to give a hand with putting up the Christmas decorations in the reception area.’

‘I’ll let you get on, then.’ For a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something else. Then he shook his head as if he’d changed his mind. ‘I’ll catch you later.’