Mistletoe Mother (Medical Romance)

by Josie Metcalfe

  ‘Oh, dear. How far along is she? Enough for the baby to survive?’ Automatically Ella found herself following Carol out into the department, her own coffee unceremoniously dumped with barely a pang of regret.

  ‘No chance at all. She’s not even reached the end of the first trimester yet. And this time I really thought we’d cracked it for them.’ Carol sounded really upset for the couple.

  ‘You sound as if you know them well. I take it they’ve been coming for a while?’

  ‘Too long,’ she confirmed darkly. ‘I first met them when they were going through all the tests to find out why she wasn’t conceiving. She’d had problems with an IUD when they were first married but hadn’t realised that the infection had affected her Fallopian tubes. Both tubes were so badly scarred that finally it was decided that their only option was IVF. This is their third attempt.’

  Ella had come across such cases at her last hospital and her heart went out to the couple. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to want to start a family only to discover that you would never achieve it without medical intervention. The fact that this was already their third attempt was witness to this couple’s determination to succeed.

  Unfortunately, she mused while they waited for Mira to arrive, sometimes all the determination in the world was not enough to ensure success. Would they be one of the unlucky ones who were fated never to have a child of their own?

  ‘She’s one of Mr Gifford’s cases,’ Carol announced, scanning the top page of the case notes as she came back into the examination room where Ella had been checking the range of supplies to hand. ‘Could you page him for me? The numbers are listed on the wall phone for convenience. I’ve already contacted the ultrasound technician and checked the availability of a bed in case she needs to be admitted.’

  Ella had barely put the phone back in its cradle after logging the page when it rang again.

  ‘Winston Ward,’ she said automatically, completely forgetting that this wasn’t her old hospital, then hastily corrected herself. ‘I’m sorry. That’s not right. It’s…what is the name of the obs and gyn department, Carol?’ she hissed over her shoulder, totally flustered by her mistake. If she hadn’t been thinking about Seth Gifford she’d have had her mind on her job.

  ‘I take it that’s Ella,’ said a dark brown velvet voice in her ear. ‘It’s Seth Gifford here. Somebody paged me.’

  ‘Yes. I—I did…or rather Carol asked me to,’ she stammered, completely thrown by the tremor of awareness that spiralled through her at the sound of his voice. She thought she could even hear amusement in his tone.

  ‘Mira Connolly is on her way in,’ she continued, hastily dragging her wayward thoughts back to the important matter in hand. ‘Apparently she’s bleeding.’

  ‘Damn!’ she heard him say forcefully. ‘I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. I expect Carol’s organised the ultrasound?’

  ‘Yes. And a bed in case she needs to be admitted.’

  ‘Well done.’

  The sharp click in her ear told her that he’d cut the connection but it took her a second to relinquish her hold on the receiver.

  ‘How soon can he be here?’ Carol prompted.

  ‘He’s already on his way, by the sound of it. He doesn’t waste time on small talk, does he?’

  ‘You’d be surprised,’ she argued. ‘I’ve never seen him watching the clock when a patient needs reassurance.’

  The sound of the lift arriving had both of them craning their necks around the doorjamb to see who was arriving. A wheelchair emerged at speed expertly wielded by a porter. The tearstained woman huddled in it was obviously their patient while the tall man following them, his thinning blond hair wildly dishevelled and devastation in his eyes, was equally obviously her husband.

  ‘This way, Mick,’ Carol called when the porter paused briefly to look both ways along the corridor. ‘We’re all ready in here.’

  ‘Is Mr Gifford here?’ the woman demanded tearfully as soon as she caught sight of the two of them. ‘I need to see Mr Gifford. He’ll be able to do something, I know he will. I can’t lose this baby. Not this time!’ She dissolved into racking sobs that continued right through her transfer onto the examining couch. Even Carol’s repeated assurances that the consultant was on his way couldn’t comfort her.

  Ella wasn’t sure what she expected Seth to do when he arrived but it certainly wasn’t the way he walked straight across to sit on the edge of the couch and wrap a comforting arm around the patient’s shoulders.

  ‘Hush, Mira,’ he murmured. ‘Hush, now. You don’t even know whether there’s anything to cry about. You haven’t even given me a chance to check yet.’

  ‘But…but I’m b-bleeding again. I’ve l-lost the b-baby again. I know I have!’

  ‘Mira, listen to me,’ he demanded sternly, deliberately holding her gaze. ‘Have I ever lied to you?’

  ‘N-no.’ She shook her head miserably.

  ‘Well, I won’t start now. Obviously as you’re bleeding there is a chance that you’ve lost your baby. You’ve been through this often enough to know that. But, until I’ve checked you over, none of us can know for sure. Even women who aren’t on IVF sometimes have intermittent bleeding for one reason or another, and then go on to have perfectly normal healthy babies.’

  She nodded, but Ella knew the poor woman didn’t really believe it.

  ‘Well, I hope you trust me enough to know that I’ll always tell you the truth, whatever it is,’ Seth said softly as he straightened up off the side of the examining couch, relinquishing his position with a gesture to her husband to take his place.

  Ella was certain that the rest of them in the room had been trying to look as if they were busy with something else to give her the semblance of privacy, but she knew that she’d been riveted by Seth’s compassion while he’d been calming Mira down. She certainly hadn’t noticed the arrival of the ultrasound technician.

  ‘How long ago did you empty your bladder?’ the motherly woman asked quietly as she began to set up the equipment, switching on the computerised display and thoughtfully warming the probe.

  ‘Actually, I need to go now,’ Mira admitted, looking fearfully at the blank screen that would soon display the presence or absence of the baby in her womb. ‘Should I go before you start?’

  ‘It’s not necessary for you to go anywhere,’ she said soothingly. ‘It’s actually better if your bladder is full. We can get a better picture.’

  Ella stepped forward to help rearrange Mira’s clothing to expose her abdomen, draping her with a towel so that the conductive jelly didn’t make a mess.

  ‘Lie very still now,’ the technician warned as she took the probe in a smooth sweep across the pale skin of her lower abdomen.

  Ella couldn’t see the screen from her position so had to content herself with watching Seth’s expression.

  He started off with his dark brows drawn together to form a deep furrow above his nose as he concentrated on the shadows and blurs that the screen would display. At one point he murmured something to the technician, his grey eyes piercingly intent as he pointed at something on the screen, and Ella found herself holding her breath.

  In spite of the number of people in the room and the hum of the equipment, she was certain she could have heard the proverbial pin drop while they waited for the verdict. When he straightened up and turned to face Mira again the expression on his face had hardly changed but some sixth sense told her that the news was going to be good.

  ‘I don’t think you’ve ever seen one of these scans before, have you?’ he began conversationally, pulling the trolley full of electronic gadgetry over slightly so that his patient could see the picture on the screen more easily without having to move her position.

  ‘This is your uterus,’ he continued, tracing the outline on the screen. ‘And this dark tadpole, just here, is your baby. The head is smaller than the width of two of your fingers and from the top of the head to its little rump is less than the length of your little
finger.’

  They all heard Mira swallow before she could force herself to speak, her eyes glued to the tiny shadow on the screen.

  ‘Is it still alive?’ she whispered fearfully, clutching so tightly to her husband’s hand that his fingers were turning white. He seemed to be too engrossed in the screen to even notice.

  ‘See for yourself,’ Seth urged with a nod to the technician to run the scan again. ‘That was a still frame you were looking at, while this is what is happening inside you while we’re looking at it. Can you see that little fluttering movement?’

  ‘Yes,’ they agreed breathlessly, still without taking their eyes off the screen.

  ‘That’s your baby’s heart beating inside you, and the last time I checked an ultrasound, only live babies had hearts that beat that strongly.’

  Mira burst into tears, but this time they were accompanied by a tremulous smile. Ella was hard put not to join her, concentrating on wiping up the jelly and righting Mira’s clothing while she regained her composure.

  ‘So why was she bleeding?’ Mira’s husband finally asked, obviously very close to tears himself.

  ‘We might never know,’ Seth admitted candidly. ‘Most people don’t realise that only one in six of normally conceived babies ever survive to birth, and the proportion is even lower for assisted pregnancies like yours. But if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that Mira just lost the twin.’

  ‘The twin?’ he echoed, obviously too befuddled to think clearly.

  ‘You remember that we put two embryos back in when we did the implantation?’ Seth prompted patiently. ‘It’s possible that both of them actually started to grow, but that one of them has just failed for some reason.’

  ‘What about the one that’s left? What are his chances?’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m not in the business of fortune-telling,’ he said as kindly as he could. ‘All we can do is wait and see.’ He glanced back at Mira who was now gazing at the print the technician had made for her of that little tadpole with the beating heart.

  ‘I’d like to keep her in overnight,’ he added softly for the husband’s ears. ‘I think she’ll probably be calmer knowing we’re close at hand, even if there’s really nothing we can do at this stage.’

  It didn’t take long for the arrangements to be made and even though Ella had never met the woman before, she found herself crossing her fingers that this story would have a happy ending.

  Seth had obviously been called to the department from some other task, but there was no sign that he was in a hurry to return to it. In spite of the fact that he had already done his part in explaining what was going on, he waited in the unit until Mira had been settled into bed.

  ‘Make sure you get a good night’s sleep, now,’ he warned when he stuck his head around the door. ‘Stress won’t do any of you any good and, with any luck, you’re going to need every bit of your strength when that little one arrives in another six months.’

  He glanced at Ella and her pulse gave a silly skip at the intensity she saw in those clear grey eyes, especially when they lingered for an extra moment.

  ‘You can page me if you’re worried about anything,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t think there’ll be any problems, but I won’t be far away if you need me.’

  She nodded, but even before he disappeared down the corridor she was silently kicking herself. There might have been a special intensity in his gaze when he’d looked at her but it was obviously purely as a result of his concern for his patient. There was nothing personal in it at all.

  ‘That’ll teach you to let the attraction get out of hand,’ she muttered crossly to herself as she set the examination room to rights. ‘Just because there are lights, bells and whistles going off inside you whenever he’s around doesn’t mean that he feels the same way. Grow up!’

  The trouble was, these were all the symptoms of growing up that she’d missed out on when she’d been a teenager. She’d seen her classmates and even her sister go through the clammy hands, racing pulse and gooey eyes stage over the boys without ever suffering a hint of it herself.

  Unfortunately, it looked as if she was coming down with a massive case of it now.

  ‘If you’ve finished in here, would you like to see if you can do anything with this?’ Carol asked, hefting the scruffy-looking cardboard box in her arms.

  ‘It depends what “this” is,’ Ella said, taking a wary peep inside the flaps. ‘Oh! Christmas decorations! I’d almost forgotten how close it was getting. I’d be delighted to have a go. Any guidelines?’

  ‘Well, the hospital usually puts a big tree up in the main reception area and threads lights through the ones either side of the entrance outside. They give us a smaller one for the central reception area dividing the two halves of this unit but it’s up to us to do the decorating of that and the wards. That box you’re holding is the treasure trove of almost every bit of tatty tinsel from the first Christmas since the hospital opened this wing.’

  ‘It doesn’t look as if there’s enough in here to make a cheerful show in one room, let alone the whole department,’ Ella said with a grimace. The closer she examined it, the tattier everything appeared. It also seemed as if it had all been squashed flat when it had been piled in the box at the end of last Christmas.

  ‘Well, I’ll leave it all in your capable hands,’ Carol said, beating a suspiciously hasty retreat.

  ‘Gee, thanks!’ Ella muttered as she made her way to the staff lounge, wondering what on earth she was going to be able to achieve with so little to work with. Some of their patients were in for such a long time for bed rest that they would need the department brightened up for the festive season. It was bad enough to endure months of uncertainty with a threatened miscarriage without having to stare at the same old walls while the rest of the hospital was decorated in a celebratory mood.

  ‘Problem?’ enquired a dark brown velvet voice and Ella nearly dropped the box.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she gasped when Seth had to grab to prevent the contents cascading onto the floor. ‘I didn’t realise there was anyone in here and you made me jump.’

  Well, it was nearly true. She hadn’t known he was here and her reaction to hearing his voice right beside her had nearly caused her to drop her burden.

  ‘In which case, I’m sorry,’ he said sincerely as he relieved her of the unwieldy carton and placed it on the nearest coffee-table. ‘Am I allowed to ask what this is?’

  ‘Feel free to have a look,’ she offered, frustrated to hear how breathless she sounded. He was going to think she was some sort of brainless twit at this rate. It really was time she got herself under control.

  ‘Ah,’ he said solemnly. ‘I can quite understand why you were looking glum. I take it this is the departmental box of decorations.’

  ‘I hope it isn’t the sum total of festive cheer for the whole hospital or we might all be in for a pretty miserable time,’ Ella said wryly. ‘Any suggestions as to how these can be rejuvenated? At the moment they’re more likely to induce deep depression.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He held up a very ragged-looking fairy and raised an eyebrow. ‘I see what you mean. I can’t imagine this granting anybody’s wishes.’

  ‘The rest of it isn’t any better. Look at it,’ she groaned. ‘How is that supposed to cheer up the whole department, including a tree in the central reception area?’

  ‘The short answer is that it won’t,’ he said, his voice suddenly decisive. ‘I’ve got an idea. Will you come for a quick walk through the department and give me an idea of what we need to do this properly?’

  ‘What do you mean—properly?’ she said warily.

  ‘I don’t know exactly. Not masses of kids’ stuff because they have that on their wards, and I presume that the kids who visit their mums in here have their own stuff at home.’

  He looked up to glance around the fairly spartan room they were standing in before fixing her with that surprisingly intense grey gaze.

  ‘I’m not thinking about any
thing over the top. Just something fairly simple—and tasteful—that can be repeated with variations in each area.’

  ‘You mean the same sort of decorations at the doors and windows of each room, or over each bed, but in a different colour scheme for each area.’

  ‘That sort of thing, yes. Do you think it would work?’

  There was an almost boyish enthusiasm in his voice that surprised her, having seen how seriously he seemed to treat life.

  ‘I think it would be perfect!’ she exclaimed, completely bowled over by this unexpected side to him. ‘Much better than tired tinsel that should have been pensioned off years ago. The only question is, how do we do it?’

  He hesitated a moment, and Ella had the impression that there was an argument going on inside his head before he spoke again in a slightly diffident voice.

  ‘If you’ve got a list of your times of duties over the next few days, perhaps we could go out together and see what we can find.’

  ‘You mean…we’d go shopping…together?’ She sounded breathless again, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. She’d only met the man a few hours ago and it had just sounded as if he was suggesting the two of them go shopping for Christmas decorations together.

  ‘I don’t see that there’s any alternative, unless you can think of a way to magically resuscitate that lot.’ He hitched a dismissive thumb at the box. ‘I’m prepared to foot the bill for the new stuff if you’ll come with me to give some input on the selection. Deal?’

  His final word almost sounded like a challenge and there was a suspicious glint in his eyes as he held his hand out towards her.

  ‘OK. Deal,’ she agreed rashly and put her hand in his.

  That first contact between them sent a shiver through her and her heart seemed to take an extra beat before it settled into a faster rhythm.

  ‘So when are you free? This afternoon?’

  Ella couldn’t think. Not with her hand still firmly held in his. Had he forgotten it was there or was he holding it hostage until he’d pinned her down to a specific time?

  ‘Um. I think so. Yes. I’ve been rostered for a short day, as it’s my first day here, in case there was any paperwork still to be sorted out. I know there isn’t because I went to the personnel department yesterday after I’d picked up my uniforms.’