Baby for the Midwife: The Midwife's Baby / Spanish Doctor, Pregnant Midwife / Countdown to Baby. Anne Fraser
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to leave Elsa for the first time for eight full hours.
The last four months had been necessary to rebuild her shattered confidence and learn the art of motherhood. She knew she couldn’t stay in this bubble. The real world was out there and she needed to prepare herself for when this hiatus was gone.
When the year was up she and Max would part ways and that thought brought greyness into the bright sunshine of the morning. It had become harder to imagine no Max in her life, which in itself was dangerous.
Apart from when he worked, since that night she’d began sharing meals with Max, they’d rarely been apart.
They been to the beach at Byron Bay and the lighthouse and shopped at the cosmopolitan markets that sold everything from home-grown coffee-beans to the finest silk and jewellery. They’d picked herbs from Max’s aunt’s herb garden and lain on the lawn in the evening to see the first stars.
Yet always at the back of her mind Georgia had known it had to end.
She had to end it, because even though they’d managed to keep out of Sol’s orbit for the last few months, she knew there was more trouble to come.
She would never forgive herself if anything happened to Max. Max had no idea how obsessed her ex-husband was, and when Sol actually found out she’d married Max she had no idea what he would do.
Now that she wasn’t the gibbering mess she’d been after Elsa’s birth, it had come home to her how unfair it was to drag Max into her troubles, and she could feel the stormclouds gathering on the horizon.
With their locum move to Meeandah, she had the opportunity to sink her teeth into obstetrics again even if it was only for a couple of weeks, and that meant she would be one step closer to independence.
Max had been wonderfully supportive about her starting work and her daughter would be settled with Mrs White in the new house for the hours she’d be away.
Her first shift since she’d become a mother herself had arrived.
She slipped back into Elsa’s room one last time to check her baby was still asleep. Elsa’s tiny fist was jammed against her mouth and every few seconds she’d suck gently in her sleep. Georgia knew she had to go.
When Georgia walked into Meeandah Maternity Ward she could hear the cry of a hungry baby and it brought a tiny smile to her face. She really did love being around birthing women and their babies.
Her biggest problems in her work had not been the clients or the midwives, it had been old-school, entrenched-idea doctors. Those medical officers who interfered with the natural process of birth because of their own impatience or lack of confidence in the birthing woman. Those who called a woman’s labour a ‘failure to progress’ when often it had been a doctor’s ‘failure to wait’!
The nurse manager of the hospital had seemed impressed with Georgia’s qualifications and experience and Georgia had felt the warmth and quality of the care and facilities from the moment she’d stepped through the doors. This hospital met the needs of their clients first and she couldn’t wait to be a part of it.
For her first morning Georgia’s handover report was given by another senior midwife who greeted her with delight. ‘You came. I thought it was too good to be true.’
Georgia smiled and held out her hand, but the woman hugged her instead.
‘I’m Karissa, and I’ve been trying to secure at least a week’s break for a couple of months now, but staffing hadn’t made that possible. With you here I can leave without feeling like I’ve abandoned the ship.’
Georgia looked around her and it felt so darned good to be back in a maternity unit. ‘I’m just as keen to get back to work. My baby is four months old and I’ve left milk with our housekeeper. I hope she’ll be fine.’
‘I fed my son, Hamish, like that for a year when I went back to work. He managed well. We’re glad to have some help here.’
‘So you have someone in labour?’ Georgia felt the exhilaration build.
‘Yep. I’ll take you in and introduce you. The rest of the ward can wait. We’ve only two other maternities in. The general ward staff will watch them while we have someone in labour. Most of the alternate lifestyle women here go home four hours after birth and the two mums we have staying are Caesareans births back from the base hospital.’
Georgia followed her new friend down the ward to the end of the corridor and was given a chart from the bench outside the birthing-room door.
‘So let’s do it.’ Karissa tapped the notes. ‘Mel and Tim are having their second baby. The first labour was quick and with no problems two years ago.
‘Mel is due tomorrow. She began regular painful contractions at five this morning and the pains are now gradually increasing in intensity.’ Karissa pointed out the graph she’d charted.
‘Her waters broke at six.’
That’s how it’s supposed to be, Georgia thought as Elsa’s wild birth came to mind. And then she thought of Max, but he was too distracting a thought when she was at work. ‘It sounds great.’
‘They’re excited. She seems to be well established in this labour and, except for some baseline observations, I’ve left them pretty much to themselves to get settled in.’
Karissa knocked and pushed open the door. Mel was leaning over a bench and Tim was massaging her lower back with a rolling dolphin massager. They both looked up briefly and smiled but withdrew their attention until after the contraction finished.
Georgia liked that. The mother needed to stay focussed. She glanced around the homey room. Floral home-made curtains, comfortable recliner rocker, beanbag and gym mat in the corner. It all made for a relaxing atmosphere.
Karissa quietly reminded her where all the emergency medical equipment was hidden behind flip-down cupboards and Georgia had been orientated to the rest of the ward a few days previously by the nurse manager.
While they waited for Mel’s contraction to end, haunting instrumental music strummed from somewhere unseen, and it added to the mood in the room which was intense but focussed.
Mel sighed long and loudly and Georgia saw her shoulders drop with the release of air and the prompt of Tim’s soothing stroke on her shoulder.
She stepped forward to introduce herself quietly before the next contraction hit. ‘Hi. I’m Georgia. I’m taking over from Karissa. You’re both very good at this, aren’t you?’ She smiled.
‘So far it’s better than little Andy’s labour,’ Mel said.
‘Great.’ Georgia picked up the foetal heart monitor. ‘That’s a great tummy you have there, Mel. Will it disturb your rhythm if I listen to your baby’s heart rate through the next contraction, please?’
‘Go ahead. We love to hear the baby.’ Mel patted her stomach. ‘It is a pretty cool watermelon but I’ll be glad to swap a heavy bulge for a baby.’
Georgia leaned in next to Mel and placed the finger-shaped ultrasound doppler a few inches below Mel’s belly button and the clip-clop sound of Mel and Tim’s baby filled the room. Everyone smiled until the next contraction started and Mel and Tim went back to work.
The baby’s heart rate continued strongly and even picked up pace for most of the contraction before evening out again. Mel sighed as the contraction finished and the baby’s heart rate clopped along merrily. Satisfied, Georgia stepped back and wiped the conducting jelly off Mel’s abdomen.
‘That’s great. Baby is cruising in there. I’ll leave you for a few minutes to complete the handover with Karissa and then I’ll be back to do a few observations on you. Then we’ll talk about your preferences for the birth.’
Georgia followed Karissa out the door and closed it behind them. They could hear the murmur of the next contraction starting.
‘They’re