The babies were good movers, kicking and stretching at all hours of the day and night, and she would often sit at work with one hand on her swollen baby, feeling their movements. It was very reassuring.
They were good sizes, too. She and Jamie had attended many scans which had not only marked the growth of the babies, but also the growth of their ever-changing relationship.
She’d started to get the nursery ready at home. Jamie had even come over one evening to help paint the walls and put up some stencils. He’d even climbed a ladder to hang up the new curtains she’d made.
It was almost as if they were a real couple getting ready for their future.
Only without the living together and the sex.
And sex had been high on her mind lately, despite her burgeoning size. It had to be the hormones! She was blaming them entirely as her mind filled with X-rated images of her and Jamie doing really naughty things together.
It didn’t help that he was so easy on the eye. Or that he was kind and thoughtful and gentlemanly. Seeing him smile delighted her, and she often found herself reaching out to touch him—a hand on his arm, his shoulder. Touching the small of his back as she passed behind him at work. Just a small contact. But enough to make her desires surge and make her brain remind her of what that one night had been like and how wonderful it would feel to experience that again. To touch him in other places. To have him touch her…
Enough, Freya!
It would never be like that between them again.
Would it?
She blinked, trying to dismiss the thrilling images she’d created, and instead focused on the patient notes she was filling out. Her patient, Rosie Clay, had been progressing through labour quite well until suddenly the baby had started showing decelerations. The infant had gone into distress and Rosie had been rushed to theatre for an emergency Caesarean section. Rosie was now fine, but her baby girl was in the NICU, having aspirated meconium, which meant she had passed her first stool whilst still in the womb.
She dropped the pen to stretch out her shoulders, thrusting them back and trying to roll them. She suddenly felt hands slide down over them.
‘Tense?’ Jamie asked.
You betcha.
‘Yeah, a little. It got a bit frantic in Theatre just now.’
‘I heard. The baby’s in NICU?’
‘A little girl.’
‘Little girls are strong.’
She thought of her own babies. Of the struggles they might have in the future together. Alone, without a father.
‘So are little boys.’
Jamie’s hands felt great, massaging away the tenseness of her muscles, releasing the knots and strain that she’d been carrying all night. She could groan because he was making her feel so good!
‘You can stop now.’
She pulled away, not wanting to embarrass herself. Jamie was just doing it out of duty, anyway. She’d accepted that ages ago, and reminded herself daily not to get too carried away with what was happening between them. It was the babies he was interested in. And she was dreaming again. Allowing herself to get carried away with fantasy.
It was her ability to dream and fantasise that had got her through the long, painful days after her attack; it had been the only way she could escape the pain and the four walls that had bound her so tightly.
He settled into a seat beside her. ‘Do you need anything to drink? Eat?’
‘No, I’m fine, thank you,’ she answered, and heard a harshness coming out in her voice that she hadn’t intended. But this was so frustrating! Having something so close she could almost touch it. Wanting something—someone—so badly, but knowing it could never happen.
‘You’re sure?’
She nodded, fighting the urge to yell at him, to tell him to leave her alone because that was what he was going to do anyway. At some point. And the idea of it was breaking her heart.
She’d grown to love his friendship, his kindness, his support—even his attentiveness. But sometimes she got angry—mostly with herself—knowing it wouldn’t be for ever.
Freya had tried to keep herself distanced from it, but lately it had become nigh on impossible and her hormones were probably to blame for that too! It was as if her body had become conditioned to let him in. To allow him to care for her as the natural father of her children. But she had other feelings developing too, and they were dangerous and stupid!
Beside them, the buzzer rang. Someone required admission.
In the evening, the doors were locked for security, so anyone turning up in the middle of the night, in labour or otherwise, had to buzz to be let in. There was a security camera so the staff could see who was there.
Freya looked at the monitor and its grainy black and white image. A man stood there, desperately looking up at the camera, wrapped in a coat and scarf.
She picked up the phone to speak through the intercom. ‘Hello?’
‘My wife! My wife’s having the baby!’
‘Okay, sir, I’m going to buzz you through.’ She went to press the button.
‘No, you don’t understand! She’s having it now. In the car! I can see the head!’
Freya glanced at Jamie, who got up at a run and raced down the corridor, grabbing a mobile pack from the supply room as he did so.
‘Someone will be with you in a moment. Hang on!’
She knew she wouldn’t be able to run like Jamie, but he would need back-up. It was freezing out. And there was a frost.
She got to her feet and moved down the corridor as fast as she could, her feet protesting, the babies kicking at the sudden rush of adrenaline in her system. She grabbed extra blankets and slapped the button release to open the doors, then took the stairs.
It would be quicker than waiting for the lift. It was just two flights.
She held her belly with one hand as she hurried down the stairs, her other hand on the rail, and by the time she got to the bottom she was out of breath and the twins were kicking madly. She burst through another set of double doors, hurried across the lobby and pressed the buzzer for the outer doors, feeling a wall of cold air hit her as she raced outside.
There was a car parked in the dropping-off bay, its doors open on one side—the guy from the monitor was in the front and Jamie was crouching by the back. She could see there was already a little bit of ice forming on the path. She hoped the gritters would be along soon…
‘That’s it, Catherine, push as hard as you can!’ she heard Jamie say.
‘What have we got?’ She pulled her penlight torch from her top pocket and shone it into the interior of the car.
A woman was lying in the back, her dress up around her waist and her baby’s head already born. There was no point in trying to get this patient into a wheelchair and whizzed upstairs now. She was going to have this baby in the car.
‘Catherine—thirty-nine, forty weeks’ gestation.’
‘Okay, anything we need to be worried about?’
‘Just the cold.’
‘I’ve brought extra blankets.’
Jamie turned to grab them and laid them over the headrest, so they’d be ready when he needed them. He already had his gloves on, had the kit open, and was ready to clip off the cord.
‘Catherine, one more push with the next contraction. I want you to push as hard as you can, okay? Let’s get this baby out and safe into your arms.’
Catherine nodded furiously, sucked in a huge breath and began to push.
At first nothing happened, and for a brief second Freya worried about there being a possible shoulder dystocia, but then slowly the baby began to emerge. Catherine sucked in another breath and began to push again, and this time the baby slithered out, crying immediately in protest.
‘Well done, Catherine!’ Jamie had caught the baby and immediately put it into its mother’s arms, grabbing the blankets to drape over them both before he clipped and cut the cord.
‘Oh, my God!’ Catherine cried, looking down at her baby with love and joy.
<
br /> ‘You did it! You gave birth in the car!’ cried the new dad. ‘The upholstery’s probably ruined, but I don’t care!’
Behind her, Freya heard the doors open and Mona appeared, pushing a wheelchair. They needed to get the new mum and baby inside so they could do the proper checks and get the placenta delivered.
Jamie took the baby and passed it to Freya, so that he could help get Catherine out of the car, lowering her gently into the wheelchair. She was shivering and shaking, so he wrapped the last blanket around her shoulders.
‘Let’s get her inside.’
They all hurried into the lobby, and Freya pressed the button for the lift before passing the baby back to its mother.
Catherine gazed into the loving eyes of her husband. ‘We have a son!’
The man laid his forehead against his wife’s and kissed her. ‘We do. Well done! I’m so proud of you.’
He turned to look at Freya and Jamie.
‘I’m Martin—pleased to meet you.’ He shook their hands. ‘This little one is so precious to us. He’s an IVF baby.’
‘Congratulations.’
‘We thought we’d left it too late, but now we have him. A son. Thank you all so much!’
‘Catherine did all the hard work,’ said Freya, and smiled.
The lift doors pinged open and they wheeled Catherine through to an empty room and helped her onto the bed. They injected the syntocinon and the placenta was delivered almost without Catherine noticing as she cradled her little boy.
‘Have you thought of a name yet?’ asked Freya, who’d donned gloves and was beginning to check it.
Catherine smiled wanly, looking tired. ‘Jackson.’
‘That’s a beautiful name.’
But something was wrong. The placenta was not as it should be. Freya felt the hairs go up on the back of her neck and instinctively knew. Catherine had gone incredibly pale, and now she rested her head back against the pillow.
She caught the baby before Catherine could drop him. ‘Martin, take the baby!’
‘What’s going on?’
Jamie lifted up the sheet and grimaced. ‘Haemorrhage.’
He smacked the red button behind Catherine’s head and an alarm sounded. Before they knew it the room was filling with people and Catherine was being whisked out on her bed, headed for Theatre. Jamie went with them.
Freya was left with Martin and the baby, in a room with blood all over the floor.
‘What just happened?’ asked Martin.
‘It looks like Catherine is losing too much blood.’ She examined the placenta more and realised there was a piece missing. ‘Retained placenta. That’s why she began to bleed so heavily.’ She laid a hand upon his arm. ‘They’ll look after her.’
‘I can’t lose her. I can’t lose my wife!’
‘Come and take a seat, Martin.’
She guided him safely to a chair and helped him sit. She needed to examine the baby, but she was very conscious of the fact that Martin would probably be reluctant to hand his son over right now.
‘Emergencies can be frightening, but she was in the right place when it happened. If she’d given birth earlier and you hadn’t made it here… You did, though. She’s in good hands.’
‘She’ll be okay?’
‘Everyone will do their best.’
She couldn’t promise him anything. She couldn’t tell him everything would be all right because she didn’t know. Haemorrhages happened, and sometimes they went badly. The medical team would do everything they could for her.
‘I need to check Jackson. I’ll just take him over to this cot—is that okay? You can come with me. Watch what I’m doing.’
He nodded and handed her the baby.
Freya took him gently and with the utmost respect. This man had just watched his wife collapse and be taken from him. He felt lost and bereft, and the only thing he had to cling on to with any certainty was his son.
She decided to talk him through it, so he would understand all that she was doing. If he understood what she was doing perhaps he would feel he had a bit of control over something.
‘First I’ll check his breathing.’ She looked to Martin to make sure he was listening.
He nodded.
‘He cried immediately after birth, and his respiratory rate is good, so he scores two points on the APGAR scale. The scale is out of ten points overall, and the higher the score, the better.’
‘Okay…’
‘Now I’m going to use my stethoscope to check his heart rate, and this is the most important.’
She put the earbuds in her ears and laid the stethoscope on Jackson’s chest. Over a hundred beats per minute.
‘He scores two for this as well. His heart rate is good, Martin.’
‘Good.’
‘Next I need to check his muscle tone, and I can see here that he has good active motion, so again he scores two.’
She talked Martin through checking for a grimace response or reflex irritability, and because Jackson began to cry she again scored him two.
‘And now skin colour. His entire body is nicely pink, except his hands and feet, but that’s normal. His circulation is good, so that’s another point. A score of nine. You have a healthy little baby boy, Martin.’ She wrapped Jackson up again and handed him back to his father. ‘Do you have clothes and a nappy for him?’
Martin thought for a moment. ‘Oh, it’s all in the car.’
It was important to get Jackson dressed and wrapped up warmly. ‘I can go and fetch them for you, if you want?’
‘Would you mind?’
‘Of course not.’
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out some keys. ‘It’s all in the boot. The lock release is on the key fob.’
‘Okay. I’ll do that, and then I’ll get you a cup of tea. I think you’ve earned it.’
‘You too, I would imagine.’ He looked at her belly. ‘How far along are you?’
‘Seven months. With twins.’
‘Life’s about to get crazy for us all, then?’
She nodded. He had no idea how crazy her life already was.
‘I’ll be back in a few minutes. Any problems, just hit the orange call button on the side of the bed. Someone will come and check on you.’
She closed the door behind her and began to waddle down the corridor once again.
Boy, were her ankles killing her! And what a night shift this was turning out to be! The last time she’d helped deliver a baby in a car parked outside it had been in the middle of summer, when the nights were a lot warmer and they didn’t have to worry about tiny babies freezing in the night air.
And this had been her first delivery working with Jamie. Usually they got to work alone, sometimes with another midwife, but she’d not yet had the chance to watch him in action like that. She’d been with him in Theatre before, but that had been different—their patient had been unconscious under a general anaesthetic, because it had been an emergency delivery.
Tonight she’d seen how good he was with a patient. How calm and encouraging. How he’d coached his patient to breathe and push. She could see why he loved midwifery so much, because he’d simply been alive with all that had been going on around him, and even though it had been an unusual delivery, out of the hospital, he had remained cool and in control. Even when the haemorrhage had begun he had worked quickly and calmly.
The lift doors pinged open. She didn’t feel like taking the stairs again so soon. She waddled her way across the lobby and opened the double doors to go outside. The cold air hit her again and she glanced down at the keys in her hand to see which side of the fob she needed to open the boot of the car.
She walked straight out, without thinking, onto the pathway, and it happened almost instantly.
Her feet began to slide on the black ice, she lost her footing and slipped and, not having any control over her centre of gravity, she went up into the air backwards, her arms flailing, and landed heavily on the ground, the back of her head s
macking hard onto the concrete.
Pain shot through her skull and her back and her belly. She reached up to rub at her head, but felt the world begin to fade and grow dark.
The last thing she saw was the clear dark sky, inky black with shining stars twinkling way beyond her, and then there was the sight of two men in dark suits appearing over her, one reaching into his jacket for a walkie-talkie and saying something in a language she didn’t understand.
She closed her eyes and drifted away.
*
Jamie was relieved. They’d managed to save their patient. Catherine’s haemorrhage had been contained, the retained piece of placenta removed and checked. The bleeding had slowed and Catherine’s womb had contracted fully. Her pressure was slowly coming back up and her heart rate was getting better.
The surgeons had done it.
He let out a huge sigh of relief and removed his mask and gown, disposing of them in the trash and going to wash his hands, whilst a porter took his patient to a side room for recovery and to be monitored.
It had been touch and go there for a while, he thought as he stood washing his hands. But they had prevailed. All of them. Working together to save their patient and give her a chance at life. There was nothing like this feeling in the whole wide world. This miracle they called life. He watched new life coming into the world every day, and it was a privilege to be amongst those who helped women achieve it.
Days like today reiterated for him the rightness of his choice. It had been right to leave Majidar, and it had been right to pursue this dream of his. Look at what he had done this night. Earlier he’d delivered one baby, safely in a hospital bed, and now he’d safely delivered not only a baby in a car, but a mother too. Everyone in the team had done that.
Outside, he could hear a bit of a commotion. Loud voices. Men. His guards, by the sound of it. What on earth was going on?
He dried his hands on paper towels and disposed of them in the bin. He wanted to see whatever this noise was about, sort it out, and then go check on the new baby. He’d delivered the little boy—it was up to him to write up the notes.
When he pushed through the doors he froze as he saw his security men were on the ward, arguing with Jules. Whatever were they doing in here? Why did they seem so upset? They had strict instructions not to come onto the ward unless there was a just cause.
Pregnant with His Royal Twins Page 10