The Midwife's Special Delivery

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘Fiona, I understand how upset you are, I really do,’ Ally emphasized, as Fiona gave her a disbelieving look. ‘I understand how disappointed Kathy is, too,’ she continued, treading very carefully. ‘You know that I can’t discuss specific cases with you, and I’m certainly not going to go through Kathy’s labour with you just to defend the hospital or put your mind at rest, but what I can tell you is that I’m also a strong advocate of natural birth—as any of my colleagues will tell you. I’d be disappointed if I didn’t have a natural delivery, but at the end of the day the goal is a healthy mother and baby—that has to be our first priority.’

  ‘I understand that,’ Fiona nodded, ‘but I just don’t want anyone rushing in…’

  ‘No one’s going to rush in,’Ally assured her. ‘But you have to listen to me when I tell you that no two deliveries are the same—and if that sounds like a platitude then I make no apology. No one can guarantee that you’re going to have a natural, drug-free birth, but what I can guarantee is that the staff will do everything they can to give you the chance to have one if that’s what you want.’

  ‘It is.’ Fiona took a deep breath. ‘We tried for five years to get pregnant, Ally. This baby is something we both dearly want, and we want to do this right.’

  ‘And you will,’ Ally said firmly. ‘This is your baby, your delivery and everyone at Bay View is going to do their level best to ensure a happy outcome for both mother and baby. We’ll keep you up to date with what’s happening and the doctors and midwives will give you the information you need to make informed and sensible decisions—’

  ‘Like they did with Kathy?’ Fiona asked with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  Ally shook her head. ‘Fiona, as I said before, I’m not prepared to discuss Kathy’s labour with you. You’re just going to have to try to trust that—’

  ‘Trust!’ Fiona snapped the word back at her. ‘You’re talking like I’ve got a choice here?’ And Ally knew not to take it personally—knew that Fiona was terrified of losing control of her body, that seeing Kathy so bitter and depressed would have been upsetting.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Fiona ran a tired hand over her face. ‘I’m sorry for taking this all out on you when you’ve been nothing but kind to Mark and me. It’s just I’m so scared of anything going wrong. I’ve been waiting to have this baby for ever and now that it’s nearly here, I’m…’

  ‘Terrified?’Ally offered, slipping an arm around the tense woman as Fiona gave in to her fears and had a little weep. ‘Nervous, too?’ Ally said, elaborating a touch when Fiona nodded. ‘And incredibly excited, too, I’ll bet.’ Handing Fiona a wad of tissues, Ally let her weep for a moment longer. ‘You’re going to be OK, Fiona,’ Ally said assuredly, resting one hand on Fiona’s large bump. ‘You both are.’

  ‘Promise.’

  But Ally couldn’t really promise that. Both she and Fiona knew that deep down, but hope and faith were powerful drugs and they were the two drugs Ally had no qualms about handing out to pregnant women when they were called for.

  ‘You’re going to be fine,’ Ally said assuredly. ‘And in just a few short days you’ll be holding your baby.’

  ‘You’re late!’ Rory frowned as Ally wearily put her bag down on the hall floor. ‘Not that it’s any of my business, of course,’ he said quickly, and Ally gave him a tired smile.

  ‘I am late. What’s that smell?’

  ‘Veal escargot,’ Rory said. ‘Or it was an hour ago. It’s probably burnt.’

  ‘You made dinner?’ Ally frowned, slipping off her shoes and padding into the kitchen, her tired eyes taking in the appalling mess—the onionskins and mushroom cartons on her bench, a trail of cream dripping its way from the container to the stove top. They told her that this wasn’t a prepackaged meal and she blinked in surprise at her house guest. ‘You actually made dinner?’

  ‘I did.’ Rory grinned. ‘I even singed the hairs on my arms trying to light your stove,’ He held up a rather large forearm for her inspection. ‘I’m surprised that I’ve got any eyelashes left.’

  ‘Don’t go borrowing my excuse.’ Ally smiled and it was so nice not to have to explain about her constant battle with her eyelashes, so nice that he knew her well enough at least to know that.

  ‘So what’s the occasion?’Ally asked as Rory pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge.

  ‘Old friends,’ Rory answered, filling two glasses and handing her one. ‘And how very important they are. I’m sorry that I didn’t keep in touch while I was away, Ally.’

  ‘I know.’ Avoiding his gaze, she chinked his glass with hers. ‘It’s good to have you back. You didn’t have to do this. I didn’t even know that you could do this!’

  ‘You haven’t tasted it yet,’ Rory pointed out.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what it tastes like,’ Ally sighed, happy to sit down and be spoiled, because even Rory’s burnt offerings would surely beat the buttered crumpets she’d envisaged toasting. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘How was the antenatal class?’ Rory asked as he drained the potatoes with one hand and took a sip of his wine with the other. Even with a teatowel over his shoulder, he somehow managed to look divine.

  ‘Long,’ Ally answered, turning her attention to her own wineglass, determined not to be caught staring. ‘I’m all for antenatal education and women getting to know each other and sharing each other’s journeys, but sometimes I think that there should be an exclusion zone placed around the women who have just delivered, like the signs they have in X-Ray, warning heavily pregnant women to stay away.’

  ‘What happened?’ Rory asked, joining her at the table and placing her plate in front of her.

  ‘I’ve just had a mum grill me about every worst-case scenario for labour. She went through everything from shoulder dystocia to external version and, no matter how hard I tried to steer her, she insisted on details, wanting to know what the staff would do for this, wanting to know the hospital policy on that. And I know exactly why she’s so terrified. Did you meet Kathy today? Failed VBAC—’

  ‘It looks nice, Rory,’ Rory interrupted, attempting a very poor impersonation of a female voice. ‘Oh, look, you even put a sprig of fresh parsley on top!’

  ‘Why,’Ally asked with a very resigned sigh, ‘do men have to be praised when they cook as if they’d performed some amazing feat? I said thank you!’

  ‘No,’ Rory shook his head. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘I’m sure that I did,’ Ally said through gritted teeth, cutting up her veal and popping a piece in her mouth and then blinking. ‘It’s lovely! Really lovely, in fact…’

  ‘You don’t have to go overboard,’ Rory grumbled. ‘A simple thank you would have done.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ally said. Looking at him for the first time since that morning, she managed a genuine smile, appreciating coming home to a meal and conversation. As nice as it was, the food and wine didn’t matter, even the fact that Rory didn’t feel the same way that she did was almost bearable. It was just nice having him here, having him back, even if it was for just a little while.

  ‘So what’s Kathy been doing?’ Rory asked, picking up the conversation where he’d dropped it. ‘No, let me guess. She’s been scaring everyone with horror stories of her appalling labour, how she was practically forced into signing the consent form…’

  ‘Pretty much,’ Ally sighed. ‘I know Kathy’s disappointed. Hell, I’d be the same…’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘I’d be disappointed.’ Ally nodded. ‘Devastated, actually, if I had to have a Caesarean, but I hope I wouldn’t take it out on everyone. I mean, she’s not only upsetting the staff with her wild accusations, she’s upsetting the other patients.’

  ‘She needs to be told.’

  ‘We can’t censor her!’Ally gave a half-smile. ‘I wish we could. Fiona—the patient I was talking about earlier—told me that Kathy’s writing to the papers and trying to get on a current affairs show.’

  ‘So she can spread her depression a little bit w
ider?’ Rory gave an angry shake of his head. ‘What annoys me the most is the way everyone at work is pussyfooting around her.’

  ‘I suppose no one wants their name added to the complaints list.’

  ‘Well, she can add mine. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.’

  ‘You can’t,’ Ally said, appalled. ‘Rory, I wasn’t joking when I said that we can’t censor her! You can’t tell her not to voice her opinions, for goodness’ sake!’

  ‘No,’ Rory said. ‘But I can make her opinions a touch more informed. She’s lucky that her baby’s OK. I was looking at her notes and charts and, as far as I’m concerned, the only thing Rinska did wrong was not calling in Mr Davies earlier.’

  ‘Don’t tell Kathy that!’ Ally yelped.

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ Rory said, irritated. ‘But Rinska gave her every chance for a so-called “normal” delivery. If I’d been the doctor on duty, she’d have been in Theatre a lot sooner.’ Rory gave an annoyed shake of his head then grimaced. ‘We’re going to stop this conversation right here—we are not to talk shop!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Ally groaned, but Rory waved her apology away.

  ‘I’m the one who asked about work, but at the end of the day we haven’t seen each other for three years!’

  ‘True,’ Ally admitted, taking a nervous slug of her wine, because even though Rory was right, even though there should be a million and one things to talk about other than a difficult patient on the wards, work was her safety net, or at least it was tonight. ‘So what brings you back to Melbourne?’

  ‘It’s home,’ Rory answered with simple honesty. ‘It took me a while to work it out, though. When my dad died, I convinced myself that there was no reason to stay, that I didn’t have any family here so what was the point? I’m probably not making much sense…’

  ‘You are.’ Ally took a sip of her wine. ‘I’m not pretending that I know how you felt, though. I come from such a massive family I can’t imagine being the only one left…’ Biting her lip, Ally cringed a touch at her own directness, but Rory just smiled.

  ‘I’m not going to burst into tears and do the poor little orphan routine, Ally. Dad died three years ago now. And I don’t know if a thirty-year-old really qualifies as an orphan!’

  ‘Stop it,’ Ally said, hating the way he made light of things. She’d meant what she’d said. She literally couldn’t imagine what it must be like to be Rory. When his father had been dying, night after exhausting night Rory would come home after visiting his father, tell Ally how he was doing as he grabbed something to eat and then go to bed. For Ally it had been the saddest part of the whole wretched time: no list of aunties or cousins or brothers or sisters to ring; no gaggle of relatives to bring up to date. Just Rory dealing with it all alone.

  ‘You’re too sensitive, Ally.’ Rory laughed, watching as her eyes brimmed with tears. ‘But the funny thing is, it took a couple of years of being away from it all for this place to really feel like home. It’s not just family and a house that make you feel as if you belong somewhere—it’s all the memories, all the people you grew up with, all the people you’ve actually forgotten you know. I’d go to the mall in the States and I missed the strangest things: not banging into someone I used to play footy with; or seeing someone that I used to go to school with and wondering what the hell they’ve been up to. You know the kind of thing I mean—having a chuckle to yourself at how bald or fat or miserable they look now, or laughing with them for five minutes about the things you used to get up to.’

  And Ally thought about it for a moment. Like it or not, she could barely make it to the end of the street without bumping into someone she knew. There were several rows of relatives filling the local phone book and, as much as it annoyed her sometimes, as much as she craved privacy sometimes, she wouldn’t change her world for anything.

  ‘How’s your love life?’ Ever direct, Rory changed the subject swiftly as he went straight to the point. ‘I heard through the grapevine you were engaged last year.’

  ‘No!’ Blushing, embarrassed, Ally attacked her veal with her knife and fork.

  ‘To Jerard Hawkins.’

  ‘No,’Ally said again, absolutely refusing to go there. ‘We were never engaged.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that. I really couldn’t see you two together.’

  ‘Why not?’ Intrigued, annoyed at his assumption, Ally forgot that she didn’t want to talk about it. Her voice was brittle when she spoke. ‘I suppose you don’t think I’d make a very good cosmetic surgeon’s wife.’

  ‘Come to think of it—no.’ Rory smiled as her jaw dropped. ‘You’re so against anything remotely invasive, I really can’t imagine you surviving one of Jerard’s cosy little dinner parties where they’re talking about the latest advances in breast augmentation or the Brazilian butt lift.’

  ‘It’s an entirely different field to maternity,’ Ally responded tartly, though privately she agreed with every word Rory was saying. Even though Jerard was highly skilled and did some amazing work, the bulk of his income came from invasive and, in Ally’s opinion, often unnecessary procedures. As hard as Ally had tried to be interested, after a long, hard and sometimes emotionally draining day in the delivery ward, sometimes it had been hard to even muster a sympathetic groan when Jerard had grumbled about his workload that day—hard to pretend to listen to his cosmetic triumphs when a baby had just died.

  Rolling her eyes, Ally admitted the truth. ‘You’re right, I wouldn’t have made a good cosmetic surgeon’s wife.’

  ‘I never said anything of the sort. I think you’d make a dazzling trophy wife for Jerard…’ As Ally opened her mouth to argue, Rory overrode her. ‘I was referring to the fact that, although admittedly I haven’t seen him in years, I always found Jerard to be the most boring person I’ve ever had the mind-numbing experience of meeting. At least I think he was—I tended to fall asleep in mid-conversation.’

  ‘Jerard isn’t boring!’ Ally retorted.

  ‘He must have had a personality transplant, then. He’s arrogant, too. Do you remember that time we had a party here…?’ Rory carried on, warming to his subject. And even though it had been Ally who had broken things off, even though she hadn’t gone out with Jerard for months, she still felt duty bound to defend him.

  ‘Jerard isn’t boring or arrogant,’ Ally said. ‘At least, I never found him to be, although I admit, when he doesn’t like someone, he does have a rather uncanny knack of dismissing them…’ Wincing at her own words, Ally froze in mid-sentence.

  ‘So Jerard doesn’t like me.’ Rory winked as Ally’s cheeks flamed.

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘You did,’ Rory delightedly pointed out. ‘You said just that.’

  ‘You always do this,’ Ally bristled. ‘You always manage to drag things out of me, make me say things that I never intended to.’

  ‘I know!’ Rory gave a triumphant smile. ‘So come on, Ally, what did I do to offend Jerard?’

  ‘Apart from sleeping with his girlfriend?’

  ‘I slept with you three years ago, for heaven’s sake, long before Jerard was on the scene.’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about me.’ Ally squirmed in her seat as the dreaded taboo subject somehow reared yet again. ‘Heaven forbid that Jerard should have a problem dating one of your exes, that would practically rule out the female population of Melbourne!’

  ‘Then who?’ Rory asked in an intrigued voice, and Ally swore she could hear his brain ticking as he mentally worked his way through his little black book. ‘Come on, Ally, who am I supposed to have slept with?’

  ‘I’m not discussing this, Rory,’ Ally flustered, wishing she hadn’t had a glass of wine when she was so tired, wondering how on earth Rory always managed to prise information out of her. But as determined as she was to end this conversation, as much as an in-depth discussion of Rory’s formidable sexual conquests was the last thing Ally wanted or needed, anger overrode sensibility. ‘I can’t believe you could cause so much upset without so much as a shred of
guilt. I can’t believe you don’t even remember!’

  ‘Uh, we are in Australia, and I believe that means I’m innocent until proven guilty.’ His eyes frowned in mock concentration. ‘What were the charges again?’

  ‘Amber Rodgers,’ Ally flared, appalled that he genuinely didn’t seem to know. ‘The ICU nurse. And her—’

  ‘Amber!’ Rory’s jaw dropped open, but only for a second. A mischievous smile played on his lips as Ally screwed her eyes closed, her face the colour of the wine she was holding in her hand. ‘And her friend! Oh, Ally.’ He started to laugh. ‘Is that what Jerard told you?’

  ‘It wasn’t just Jerard who told me, the whole hospital knew about it. You left poor Jerard at a party and went with both of them back to Amber’s. How was he supposed to take her back after that little public display in humiliation?’

  ‘“Poor Jerard”!’ Rory stopped laughing but a smile was still twitching on his mouth. ‘On the night in question, your honour…’ Ally’s lips pursed in indignation as Rory continued in his mock police officer’s voice. ‘I attended a function in the doctors’ mess. Due to the fact I was on call I chose to partake only in orange juice. At around ten p.m. I’d had enough and decided to leave. It was at that point I witnessed Jerard and two young ladies arguing in the foyer…It’s like Cluedo, isn’t it?’ Rory added, reverting to his normal voice.

  ‘Stop it Rory,’Ally interrupted, but annoyingly Rory carried on.

  ‘The young lady was very tearful, your honour, and she asked if I could take her and her friend home—to which I agreed.’

  ‘I’ll bet,’ Ally snarled.

  ‘During the car journey home, it became apparent that Jerard had, in fact, discovered his girlfriend and her friend in a rather compromising position…’ He paused, sat in delicious silence his face split into a massive grin as Ally’s eyes widened. Her eyes jerked to his, her hand going over her mouth as Rory gave a slow affirmative nod. ‘Do you see now why Jerard was more than happy to lay the blame on me?’

  ‘You’re telling the truth?’ Ally checked.