The Surgeon's Miracle Baby

by Carol Marinelli

  No doubt he was picking up on his mother’s misery. The second she’d closed the door on Daniel, Declan had started shrieking, and because she was a mum, because there was no choice but to tend to him, there had been no real time for self-indulgence, no real time to explore her own grief at what had just taken place. Just a sleepless night attempting to soothe her son, to reassure him that they were going to be OK—to tell him and herself that they didn’t need Daniel Ashwood in their life to get by.

  ‘Louise, can you take Mrs Bennett?’ a very sparkly Elaine asked once handover had finished.

  ‘The query appendicitis?’ Louise checked, but her attempt at togetherness failed as she eyed her handover notes.

  ‘Oh, that’s right—you were late and missed the beginning of handover!’ Ignoring the barb, Louise listened intently as Elaine filled her in. ‘Mrs Bennett went to Theatre late last night, had an appendicectomy and was returned to the ward at three a.m. One of the midwives came down at five a.m. and did a CTG, which showed an irritable uterus but no signs of labour. I would imagine once Danny’s seen her, he’ll arrange her transfer to the maternity ward, however.’

  ‘How are you this morning?’ Louise asked, smiling down at the pale woman and wrapping a blood-pressure cuff around her arm as she chatted. ‘You had a bit of a rough night, I hear.’

  Mrs Bennett wasn’t the only one. Daniel would barely have left her apartment before his pager would have gone off, and performing an appendicectomy on a heavily pregnant woman in the middle of the night wasn’t exactly conducive to relaxation. As for Louise, she felt as if a train had hit her, both physically and mentally.

  Still, Mrs Bennett was her priority right now, and checking her obs, Louise did her best to make sure her patient was comfortable.

  ‘Is your husband coming in?’ Louise asked, attempting conversation.

  ‘He’s got to get the other two off to school. Maybe then, I guess.’ Amanda gave a tiny shrug. ‘Or maybe he’ll just go to work, though I thought he’d have called by now.’ She gestured to the phone on her locker.

  ‘He probably overslept.’ Louise smiled. ‘Given that he was here all night. He’s probably racing around, trying to get the children organised for school. He’ll ring soon.’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  Louise frowned at her patient’s rather flat response, but as a delicious waft of aftershave greeted her nostrils, she continued to frown for entirely different reasons. ‘Good morning, Mrs Bennett.’ Daniel’s assured, silken tones filled the room.

  Bristling with rancour, Louise handed him the notes, appalled that he could looked so damned together when she felt as if she was falling apart—though on closer inspection he wasn’t quite as together as he’d first appeared. Despite a few thousand dollars’ worth of suit and a tie that would cover her rent for a month, his eyes were bloodshot, his skin had a ghastly tinge to it and every muscle in his toned body screamed with tension.

  ‘Can I see her chart?’

  She handed it to him without contact and tried to smile reassuringly at her patient as he carefully checked Amanda’s obs chart then gently examined her, placing his hand on her stomach for what seemed the longest time. And probably no one else would have even noticed, but because she’d worked with him, because she knew him so damned well, Louise knew he was worried.

  ‘That’s quite a strong contraction, Amanda.’

  ‘It’s not too bad…’ The patient shook her head but Daniel remained unconvinced.

  ‘You’re on a lot of pethidine—you probably didn’t feel most of it.’ He glanced over at Louise. ‘She wasn’t having contractions when they did the CTG—I assume the midwife didn’t do a PV?’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Amanda’s anxious eyes darted from Daniel to Louise.

  ‘An internal examination,’ Louise explained. ‘When the uterus is irritable, generally we try to leave things well alone.’ She looked back at Daniel. ‘According to the notes, no, she hasn’t had one, though I’ve only just come on and only just started to do her obs.’

  ‘How long have you been having these contractions?’ Daniel asked Amanda.

  ‘I wouldn’t call them contractions.’ Amanda gave a small shrug. ‘I think they’re just Braxton-Hicks’, you know, the practice ones you get…’

  ‘I’m going to ring the obstetrician and get you transferred upstairs,’ Daniel broke in, deciding, as he often did, that he knew best! ‘The appendicectomy went well—it’s the baby we need to watch now.’

  ‘Did Harry ask about the baby?’

  ‘Harry?’ Daniel frowned as he turned to the door. ‘Your husband? Yes, he was extremely concerned. I spoke to him at length after the operation—’

  ‘I mean about the baby.’ There was urgency in her eyes as she stared up at Daniel. ‘Did he ask how the baby was?’ And acting skills didn’t get handed out with a medical degree because Daniel hesitated just a second too long before answering. ‘He was very worried. I don’t specifically remember what he asked. I just did my best to reassure him—’

  ‘He doesn’t care.’ Amanda started to cry, a ball of emotion on the rumpled bed, such a contrast to the controlled, together doctor who stood at the doorway. ‘I bet he wishes I’d just lost it…’

  ‘Amanda.’ Louise moved to soothe her, to comfort her. ‘Please, don’t upset yourself at the moment—you really need to try and get some rest.’

  ‘He didn’t even ask the doctor how the baby was!’

  ‘People react differently. He’s probably beside himself…’

  ‘He thinks it isn’t his!’And it was so painfully close to the bone Louise had to physically stop herself from wincing. She just stood there for a second, frozen, as Amanda sobbed into the tissues she was handing her. ‘He thinks I had an affair…’

  There was an appalling silence, Louise knowing she should say something and berating her lack of words.

  ‘He says it can’t be his.’

  ‘Just try to rest and not upset yourself, Amanda.’ Daniel’s clipped, cool tones did nothing to help and Louise flashed angry eyes at him as Daniel finished his consultation. ‘I’ll arrange your transfer.’

  ‘I’m going to be sick!’ The door had barely closed on Daniel when Amanda’s distressed voice filled the room. And even if she wasn’t a midwife, Louise was a nurse through and through and knew, just knew what was coming next even before the patient said it. ‘I think the baby’s coming.’

  One hand held the vomit bowl as the other pushed on the emergency bell and thankfully Daniel was the first to appear, along with Elaine.

  ‘Call the labour ward,’ Louise called to Elaine, her eyes giving an urgent wide-eyed look as Daniel pulled on some gloves. The austere doctor of before disappeared as he gently explained to Amanda that he was going to examine her. Though an internal examination was not usually performed when labour was trying to be prevented, from the expression on Daniel’s face when he examined her, nothing was going to prevent this one.

  ‘Tell them to bring everything down,’ he briefly looked over at Louise’s but she was already on it. ‘Stat!’

  There was quiet order in the room as Elaine came in with a rarely used delivery pack, even though chaos was surely reigning outside—emergency pages going out to the obstetricians, midwives, anaesthetist and paediatrician, lifts being held open as a resuscitation cot was wheeled from Theatre through to the surgical unit, skilled people dropping whatever they were doing and racing to where they were needed more.

  ‘Slowly, Amanda.’ Daniel’s voice was incredibly calm and gentle as he told her not to push. ‘Just try and pant through the contraction.’ Louise knew what he was doing, trying to control the very rapid delivery, the small soft head of a thirty-weeker, not up to a traumatic, rapid entrance. To prevent brain problems, it was vital that the delivery was as gentle and as controlled as possible. ‘You’re doing really well.’

  ‘I want Harry here,’ Amanda begged. ‘Maybe if he sees his baby being born, he’ll love it…’

  �
�He doesn’t have to be here to know…’ Daniel said, and it was as if her heart was being pierced again—watching him so gentle, so tender, saying all the right things to a stranger that he couldn’t say to her. ‘Just pant now, Amanda—that’s it.’ The door swung open, the obstetrician racing in and gloving up, but there wasn’t time for anyone to take over. The tiny life was already making an entrance, and instead he spoke to Daniel through the next few seconds, the room filling as Daniel skilfully handled the emergency. And it hurt, hurt to watch as he delivered the infant, as his strong, big hands skilfully bought the tiny life into the world.

  ‘You’ve got a little boy,’ Daniel said, because no one else had time to. Apart from him and Louise, everyone else was concentrating on the tiny infant now, placing him on the resuscitation cot, flicking his feet to stimulate breathing, suctioning his tiny grimacing mouth until the weakest, feeblest of cries came from the cot.

  ‘Is he OK?’ Amanda was calling out for answers, oblivious to the placenta Daniel was delivering, her mind completely on her tiny son.

  ‘Nasal flaring,’ the anaesthetist called to the team, ignoring Amanda’s question, his mind completely focussed on the little life that hung in the balance. ‘He’s struggling. Let’s get him upstairs.’

  ‘We wanted a boy,’ Amanda said. ‘Maybe now he’s got a son he’ll—’

  ‘Amanda!’ A terrified, stunned face appeared at the door and Louise knew without introduction it was Harry, his exhausted eyes taking in the scene.

  ‘We’ve got a son,’ Amanda sobbed, as her husband took her in his arms and held her, his stunned expression belying the quiet strength he offered his wife.

  ‘They’re going to move him upstairs in just a moment or two,’ Louise explained. ‘To the neonatal unit. It’s the best place for him.’

  Just the tiniest glimpse of her son was all Amanda was given, a few seconds to stroke his pale cheek before he was whisked away, leaving the whole room in chaos, with wrappers and packets littering the floor as if some whirlwind had blasted in and gone. It was almost impossible to believe that just fifteen minutes ago it had seemed like another routine morning.

  ‘Go with him, Harry,’ Amanda pleaded. ‘Go and see how he’s doing. One of us should be there for him!’

  ‘I want to stay here with you!’ If he’d been pale before, Harry was white now, his face etched with tension, his eyes screwing closed as over and over Amanda urged him to go and look out for their son.

  ‘Could I have a word, Harry?’ Louise gestured him outside, and when he followed she led the stunned man down to the relatives’ room, waiting till he sat down before joining him. ‘I know this has come as a shock. It was very rapid. There really wasn’t time to let you know what was happening.’ She paused, unsure of what to say because even if she wasn’t a midwife, she was a parent and surely he should be asking, surely he should be desperate to know how his son was. Then the door opened and Daniel came in.

  ‘I’ve just had a call from upstairs,’ he told Harry. ‘You can go up and see your son—’

  ‘He isn’t my son.’ The words hissed out and Louise found herself staring at her fingers, lacing them between each other. ‘Amanda insists that it is, but the only person she’s fooling is herself.’

  ‘You’re sure of that?’ Daniel asked, giving a brief nod as Harry gave a resigned one. ‘Well, whatever the case, right now your wife has just been through surgery and labour and has a premature infant in the neonatal intensive care unit…’

  ‘I can’t see him.’ Harry looked up at Daniel. ‘Do you understand, Doc? I can’t just be a fool. I had a vasectomy two years ago, for God’s sake. What am I supposed to do here, just pretend he’s mine, pretend to Amanda that I don’t know? When we both know…’

  ‘That I can’t answer.’ Daniel was direct but it was necessary. Added emotion or opinions were not needed when they already abounded, and Louise was for once grateful for his cool demeanour, a chance to catch her breath as Daniel faced the practicalities. ‘My only concern is my patient and her welfare, Harry. Midwives are with her now and once she’s ready to be moved I’ll arrange her transfer to the maternity ward. I think your questions are going to have to wait a while before they can be answered—for now I want your wife to rest and if that means you stay in here for a while, then I’m sure the staff can bring you some coffee.’

  ‘You had the tests?’ Louise’s voice seemed to be coming from a long way off, her usual confidence utterly eroded, this situation just too close to home to allow for complete professional detachment. And even if it was none of her business, even if Amanda Bennett wouldn’t have been the first or last woman to have an affair and pass the child off as her husband’s, somewhere deep inside Louise knew the other woman had been speaking the truth, and that gave her the impetus to probe.

  ‘Louise,’ Daniel snapped. ‘I mean, Sister Andrews. I really think Mr Bennett has enough to deal with now. Perhaps you could arrange an outside telephone line for him and some coffee.’

  ‘Did you have the tests after your vasectomy,’ Louise asked again, utterly ignoring Daniel and staring at her patient’s husband, who squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.

  ‘I had the surgery, love.’ Harry gave a nervous laugh. ‘Believe me, I was there and it’s not something you’d want to go through twice!’

  ‘You’re supposed to have two clear sperm counts post-vasectomy.’ It was Daniel speaking now, Daniel addressing things as Louise let out a relieved breath, knowing that if she’d been wrong it could have made a terrible situation even worse. ‘The doctor would have explained that to you. Did you have the tests?’

  ‘No.’ Harry shook his head. ‘I didn’t see the need…’ He was speaking to thin air. Daniel had already left the room, only to return a minute later with a pathology request slip.

  ‘Now?’ Harry yelped.

  ‘Could you show Harry the way to the path lab?’ Daniel stared at the man. ‘If he wants to be shown, that is!’

  ‘Well done.’ Daniel’s face was pale when she returned to the ward, but a muscle was flickering in his cheek. ‘How did you know? I mean, if you’d been wrong, you could have made things so much worse.’

  ‘I guess I just believed her.’ It was the closest she’d ever come to hate, staring into the face of the man she loved, a man who simply couldn’t believe her.

  ‘Louise?’ The pain in his voice was urgent and for a second it startled her, because, no matter what, not once had she seen him anything other than together at work. ‘Louise, can we—’

  ‘Talk?’ Incredulous, she finished his sentence for him. ‘Go to hell, Daniel.’

  ‘Louise, please.’ It was Daniel flailing now, Daniel reaching for her arm and trying to call her back. ‘I have to talk to you!’

  ‘You’re too late,’ Louise flared. ‘Twelve months too late!’

  Her name was being called from two directions and even if she loathed Elaine, she was infinitely preferable to Daniel at the moment. As the senior nurse walked towards her, Louise was glad to turn her back on him and braced herself for a sharp few words, but for once they didn’t come. Elaine’s face was actually kind as she spoke to her. ‘The crèche just called. Apparently Declan vomited before—’

  ‘Oh!’ Louise shook her head as if to clear it, pushing aside the fact that Daniel’s arm was still on her, her only instinct to go to her son, but knowing she had to make the right noises, knowing that just because the crèche was in the hospital she couldn’t just dash off. ‘Look, the midwives are in with Mrs Bennett. Is it OK if I take an early coffee?’

  ‘Louise…’ Why was Elaine being so nice? Why was she still looking at her with that concerned expression? Panic started to flutter inside as the horrible pause went on. ‘Declan isn’t in the crèche. The staff were actually quite worried about him and they’ve taken him straight to Emergency. I think you ought to go…’ Elaine’s mouth was moving, words still coming out, but Louise couldn’t hear them. It felt as if her head had been plunged underwater and was be
ing held down, everything muted and distorted. Her only thought was to get to Declan. She shook off Daniel’s hand, which was still on hers, and could feel her legs heavy as they pounded down the corridor, saw her tense white fingers as they slammed on the lift button to summon it.

  ‘Louise.’ Daniel was there beside her, his voice attempting reassurance, but she could hear the slight wobble in it as he took her trembling hand and held it as she continued to press the button. ‘He’ll be OK, the staff are probably just being overly…’ He never got to finish because his pager was shrilling, the urgent voice of the switchboard operator demanding his attention.

  ‘Mr Ashwood to Emergency. Paediatric emergency. Mr Ashwood to Emergency!’

  ‘It doesn’t mean it’s him!’ Daniel was holding her up, and she could see he was torn, wanting to comfort her, to help, yet knowing the only way he truly could be of use was to go.

  ‘It is him.’ Her teeth were chattering, her eyes wide and panicky, as she relived in that split second the piercing cries that had woken her up over and over in the night, the arching of his body as she’d handed him over to the crèche staff.

  The lift doors slid open, but Daniel had already gone. Lifts out of bounds to staff in an emergency, he’d already taken the stairs. Thankfully Shona was there—Shona dashing towards her and instantly taking over, guiding her into the lift and pushing the ground-floor button, not saying a word as the lift bumped down to the ground floor, just offering support as they raced silently down to Emergency.

  It was him.

  As the black plastic doors pushed open, Louise just knew.

  Knew because no one seemed surprised to see her, just that awful sympathetic smile that did nothing to reassure as someone took her arm and tried to guide her into the interview room, and in a fit of rage almost she shook whoever it was off. She wasn’t going to sit in a room and wait. She just needed to see her baby.