Mistletoe, Midwife...Miracle Baby. Anne Fraser
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disconnected. He turned to Ellen. ‘I’m sorry, but the trip to the shops is going to have to wait. That was the labour ward. They’ve had a call from one of our patients. She’s in labour but can’t get to the hospital. She lives in a croft house way off the beaten track and with the recent snow, the ambulance hasn’t a chance in hell of getting to the house.’ He rubbed a hand across his chin. ‘They’ve called in the RAF but they might not be able to get there in time. Besides, we’re closer and this vehicle can handle most conditions.’ While he was talking he had turned the car back in the direction they’d come. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to come along for the ride. Come to think of it, it’s good you’re here. I might need help.’
A bubble of panic rose in Ellen’s chest. He had no idea what he was asking of her. How could she tell him that there was no way she could help deliver his patient’s baby? She was barely holding it together as it was, how would she manage if she had to hold a baby in her arms? But what other option did she have?
She tucked her shaking hands under her thighs lest Sean notice. So this was it. Before she was ready and before she had a chance to prepare herself, she was going to have to deal with a baby.
There was no way she could refuse. Not when someone was in trouble.
‘Is this her first?’ she asked, pleased her voice didn’t betray her anxiety. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘Yes, it’s her first. She was due to be admitted for an elective section next week. Her baby is breech. We tried to turn it around at 37 weeks, but failed. Damn. Perhaps I should have insisted that she come in earlier but she was determined to stay at home for as long as possible. On top of that, her husband works on the oil rigs and hasn’t been able to get home because of the weather. To cap it all, she has an elderly mother with early Alzheimer’s and she didn’t want to leave her on her own for too long.’
Ellen felt a pang of sympathy. It seemed she wasn’t the only one whose life had been turned upside down. Maybe concentrating on someone else’s problems was just what she needed. Oh, God, please give her the strength to cope with the next few hours.
‘Can you ask the ward to patch us through to her? I could take some details over the phone while we’re driving.’ Ellen focussed her mind, trying to think ahead. A breech delivery could get complicated.
Sean did as she suggested, switching the phone to speaker, and within minutes a frightened voice came over the line.
‘Dr Jamieson. Thank goodness! The nurses on the ward said you were coming to help me. Are you near? When will you get to me?’
‘Marie, everything is going to be fine,’ Sean said calmly. ‘I hope to be with you in about ten minutes. I have a midwife in the car with me and she’s going to talk to you as we drive. You don’t know her but she’s very experienced. Her name is Ellen.’
‘Hello, Marie.’ Ellen took over the call. It was good that Sean had a speaker phone. This way she wouldn’t have to keep breaking off to update him and he could concentrate on navigating the icy roads. If anything, the snow had started to fall harder since they had left the house and visibility was down to a few metres. Ellen knew that they couldn’t rely on the RAF helicopter being able to put down any time soon. ‘Ellen here. I’m the midwife Sean was telling you about. Can you tell me how far apart your contractions are?’
‘No! I don’t know how to do that. All I know is that it hurts!’
‘Okay. Just listen to my voice. I’m going to tell you exactly what you need to do. Every time there is a big pain and it goes away look at your watch and count the minutes until the pain comes back. Can you do that?’
‘I’ll try.’ Marie’s voice rose as another contraction hit her. Ellen looked at her watch. ‘Tell me when it eases off, Marie, and I’ll count with you.’
Having something to concentrate on seemed to help Marie’s panic. It seemed that the contractions were four minutes apart. Not so good.
‘I’m just turning in at the end of the road to your croft, Marie,’ Sean said. ‘Hopefully I can make it down the track. If not, we’ll walk. One way or another we’ll be with you in a few minutes. You just keep counting those contractions for us.’
Sure enough, as soon as they pulled up at the gate of Marie’s croft it was obvious that there was no way even Sean’s four-by-four would make it down the snow-covered track.
Ellen thought of the high heels she was wearing. Not so great for trudging through waist-high snow.
Sean seemed to read her mind. ‘I have spare boots in the back. They may be a few sizes too big but if we have to walk they’ll keep your feet warm and dry.’
A few sizes too big was optimistic. Sean was tall.
‘Do we have anything with us?’ Ellen asked. ‘I’m assuming we might have to deliver the baby here.’ She chewed on her lip. ‘It’s some time since I had to do a home delivery.’
Sean’s answering smile was tight. ‘Me too. And the answer is no. I have some surgical gloves and a very basic medical kit with some morphine in the boot that I keep in case I’m called out to a rescue, but that’s it, I’m afraid. We’re just going to have to do the best we can.’
It took them five minutes to walk down the drive, every minute taking Ellen closer to the delivery.
They let themselves in the door, calling out as they shrugged off their jackets. After the freezing conditions outside the house was pleasantly warm.
‘I’m up here.’ Marie’s voice came from a room at the top of the stairs. Sean headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, but Ellen had noticed a frail old lady in the kitchen. Judging by the look of fear on her face, Marie’s mother had no idea who they were or what they were doing there.
‘Are you Marie’s mum?’ Ellen asked.
‘Yes. But Marie’s at school. What are you doing in my house?’ Her voice gathered strength. ‘You must leave, or I will call the police.’
No wonder Marie was reluctant to leave her mother. The old lady was clearly very confused.
‘Why don’t you take a seat in the living room?’ Ellen suggested calmly. ‘My name’s Ellen and I’m a nurse. The man who went upstairs is Dr Sean Jamieson. Your daughter is going to have a baby and we’re here to help her. I need to go and see how she is but if you could stay down here and listen for the phone, that would be a big help.’
The old lady’s face cleared for a moment. ‘Yes. Of course, silly me. Marie is having a baby. My memory isn’t what it used to be, dear. Sometimes I get a bit mixed up.’
Ellen led her into the sitting room and switched the television on. Judging by the number of cushions on the chair in front of the set, and the side table laden with reading glasses and bottles of pills, this was a favourite place for the old lady. With a bit of luck the cookery programme would keep Marie’s mother distracted long enough for them to deliver the baby.
Upstairs Sean was examining Marie.
‘Nine centimetres dilated,’ he said. ‘Even if the RAF manages to land soon, and I very much doubt that they’ll even be able to take off in this weather, this baby isn’t going to wait.’ He smiled reassuringly at Marie. ‘Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. I’ve delivered lots of breech births in my time and they’re all doing well.’
Ellen introduced herself.
‘Okay, Marie,’ Ellen said. ‘As Dr Jamieson said, everything is going to be just fine. I’ve left your mother watching television. Dr Jamieson will stay with you while I wash up. Where can I find some clean towels?’
‘In the cupboard next to the bathroom,’ Marie said, her words tailing off in a cry of pain.
‘And scissors? Do you have a pair of kitchen scissors? We’ll need them to cut the cord.’
‘In the kitchen.