A Family Worth Waiting For: The Midwife's Miracle Baby. Margaret Barker
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checked to make sure it was complete.
‘All intact,’ Darren murmured, as much to himself as to Claire and Lex.
The baby was active during the procedure, allowing them a good view of everything. Ten fingers and toes were all accounted for.
‘Do you want to know the sex?’ Darren asked.
‘Can you tell?’
‘Uh-huh.’
Lex looked at Claire questioningly. Claire shrugged noncommittally.
‘I didn’t want to. We discussed it and we wanted it to be a surprise. But … oh, gosh, I can’t believe how tempted I am.’
‘Yeah, I know what you mean,’ said Darren. ‘We were tempted, too.’
‘No. Don’t tell me. Brian will kill me if I found out.’
Darren took some measurements of the baby’s thighbone next. He entered the data into his machine. With all the other measurements he’d imput, it would now calculate the growth of the baby, its weight and its precise gestation.
Claire felt tears prick her eyes at the wonder of this developing life, still only half-developed in medical terms but already a fully formed little person being nurtured and protected in the safety of the womb. She felt an ache deep inside, an emptiness that she had suppressed for years, refusing suddenly to be quelled. Watching Lex’s baby on the screen, Claire felt a yearning begin and then intensify.
What was the matter with her? Babies had been part of her working life for over a decade. When had they started to get to her like this? At twenty, after her mother’s diagnosis, Claire knew she would never allow herself to bring a baby of her own into this world. It had been difficult to come to terms with, but she’d felt she hadn’t really had a choice.
Maybe she hadn’t taken the appropriate time to grieve? For someone who loved babies as desperately as Claire did, never achieving motherhood was a real loss. Losses needed to be mourned. She should have cried, but she hadn’t. She should have railed against the fates, but she hadn’t done that either. She’d felt immensely sad but had moved on with her life. Forged a career.
Was she doing it now? Grieving? Was that what was happening to her? And why now? What had happened to trigger it? And then Campbell poked his head in the door and something deep inside her knew it was him. He was responsible for this discontent. She shut her mind to it. She didn’t want to go there.
‘Here you all are,’ he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him, along with the bright outside lights that intruded into the darkened room.
‘Campbell,’ said Lex, delight in her voice. ‘Come and look at my beautiful baby.’
Campbell did as he’d been bidden and admired the ultrasound images, oblivious to Claire’s turmoil.
‘Beautiful. Absolutely, no doubt.’
Claire raised her head to discover him staring at her. His look immobilised her. Even breathing was difficult when he looked at her with such hunger. Claire blinked rapidly to dispel the moisture that had dewed her eyes. It was too late. He’d seen it. She could see his eyes narrow with concern. Even in the gloom he was very easy to read.
‘Looks like you’re spot on, Lex,’ Darren continued. He was so focused, Claire doubted he’d even registered Campbell’s presence. Pity she couldn’t say the same for herself. ‘Twenty weeks and one day, according to the calculations.’
With the scan over, Darren flicked the lights on and Claire helped Lex down from the narrow bed. She rushed off gratefully to relieve her full bladder. Darren left the room to retrieve the video recording for Lex. Campbell, his back to the wall, watched Claire.
‘Clinic smells nice today,’ he commented casually. ‘Wattle, I believe.’
‘Yes, I thought it could do with a few humanising touches.’
He laughed and she ignored him.
‘Where will you send tomorrow’s flowers?’ he asked, amusement in his voice.
‘I was hoping you’d get the message today.’
He looked at her with a bemused expression. There would be flowers tomorrow. And the next day and the day after that … until she surrendered.
‘Pauline, our receptionist, has first dibs.’
He laughed harder and Claire was drawn to the way his hair flopped forward, almost in his eyes. He looked so little-boy endearing, she had to quell an urge to ruffle it. He wasn’t a boy and this wasn’t child’s play.
‘You can send me flowers from here to Christmas, Campbell, I won’t be changing my mind.’
‘I thought women liked receiving gifts?’
‘Well, I guess that depends on the motive of the sender.’
Lex re-entered the room, out of her gown and looking more like herself.
‘Darren’s going to leave the recording at the desk,’ Claire said.
‘Oh, fantastic. Brian was so disappointed he couldn’t be here. He’s going to be rapt when he sees it. I just hope I remember everything.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Claire, waving goodbye. ‘See you in a few weeks. Take care. Ring if you have any problems.’
‘You know,’ Campbell said after the door had closed behind Lex, ‘when I first arrived, I could have sworn you looked like you were about to burst into tears. For an awful moment, I thought something must have been wrong with the baby.’
Claire remained silent.
‘You looked so … stricken.’
‘I did not look stricken,’ she snapped. Had she looked that bad? Had it been that obvious?
‘Whatever.’ He shrugged. ‘I mean, I was pleased just to be able to read any sort of emotion in your face.’
‘Oh, so I’m cold now?’ she asked waspishly.
‘No. You’re just … guarded. What made you that way, Sister West?’
‘Life.’
‘Why haven’t you got a couple of babies of your own?’
Campbell’s question caught her completely off guard. It hit her like a sledgehammer to the heart. She gasped and stared at him, dumbstruck. Had he seen that much? Could he have guessed the cause of her tears?
‘Maybe I don’t want any.’ Her heart pounded loudly, each beat mocking her. Liar. Liar. Liar.
‘I don’t believe that. C’mon, Claire, you’ve immersed yourself in babies for years. You don’t do that if you’re indifferent.’
‘Exactly.’ She forced a light note into her voice. ‘I’ve witnessed labour first-hand many times. I’ve seen how much it hurts. I’m not silly.’ She smiled a fake smile but Campbell was clearly unconvinced. ‘Just because I’m a midwife, that doesn’t mean I’d be a good mother.’
‘I don’t believe that either.’
‘Since when is this any of your business, anyway? How would you like it if I asked you such prying questions?’
‘Shoot.’
Claire glared at him. Typical. Trust him to call her bluff. Stubborn, exasperating man. ‘Fine. Why haven’t you had children, Campbell? Or don’t you want them either?’
‘I can’t wait to have kids,’ he said and grinned. ‘I think I’d be a fantastic dad.’
Claire had to agree with him there. He would make a great dad. She should have known he’d want children. But he wouldn’t want her children. Her children with her mutant genes.
‘So what are you waiting for?’ she asked, trying to keep