One Night With The Italian Doc. Kate Hardy
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cervix is a little dilated but if you think of a funnel …’ he showed the shape with his hands ‘… your cervix is opening from the top but we are going to give you medication that will hopefully be able to, if not halt things, at least delay them.’ He gave his orders to Louise and she started to prepare the drugs Anton had chosen. ‘This should taper off the contractions,’ he said as he hooked up the IV, ‘and these steroids will help the baby’s lungs mature in case it decides to be born. You shall get another dose of these in twenty-four hours.’
Louise did everything she could to keep the atmosphere nice and calm but it was all very busy. The paediatricians came down and spoke with Anton. NICU was notified that there might be an imminent admission. Anton did an ultrasound and everything on there looked fine. Though the contractions were occasionally still coming, they started to weaken, though Emily had a lot of pain in her back, which was a considerable concern.
‘Content,’ Anton said again, but this time to the screen. ‘Stay in there, little one.’
‘And if it doesn’t?’ Emily asked.
‘Then we have everything on hand to deal with that if your baby is born,’ Anton said. ‘But for now things are settling and what I need for you to do is to lie there and rest.’
‘I will,’ Emily said. ‘First, though, I need a wee.’
‘I’ll get you a bedpan!’ Louise said.
‘Please no.’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Louise smiled. ‘Anton’s rules.’
Anton smiled as he explained his rules. ‘Many say that it makes no difference. If the baby is going to be born then it shall be. Call me old-fashioned but I still prefer that you have complete bed rest, perhaps the occasional shower …’
‘Fine.’ Emily nodded, perhaps for the first time realising that she was going to be there for a while.
Hugh and Anton waited outside as much laughter came from the room, mainly from Louise, but Emily actually joined in too as they attempted to get a sterile specimen and also to check for a urinary tract infection.
Bedpans were not the easiest things to sit on.
But then Emily stopped laughing. ‘Louise, I’m scared if I wee it will come out.’
‘You have to wee, Emily,’ Louise said, and gave her friend a cuddle. ‘And you have to poo and do all those things, but I’m right here.’
It helped to hear that.
‘I’ve got such a bad feeling,’ Emily admitted, and Hugh gave a grim smile to Anton as outside they listened to Emily expressing her fears out loud. ‘I really do.’
‘Okay.’ Louise was practical. ‘How many women at twenty-eight weeks sit on that bed you’re on, having contractions, and say, “I’ve got a really good feeling”? How many?’ Louise asked.
‘None.’
‘I had a bad feeling last night,’ Louise admitted. ‘You can ask Anton, you can ask Rory, because I left five minutes after you and I came in early just to look at the board to see if you had been admitted, but I don’t have a bad feeling now.’
‘Honest?’
‘Promise,’ Louise said. ‘So have a wee.’
‘I’m going to give her a sedative,’ Anton said to Hugh.
‘Won’t that relax her uterus?’ Hugh checked, and then stopped himself because he trusted Anton.
‘I want her to sleep and I want to give her the best chance for those medications to really take hold,’ Anton said. ‘You saw that her blood pressure was high?’
Hugh nodded—Emily’s raised blood pressure could simply be down to anxiety but could also be a sign that she had pre-eclampsia.
‘We’ll see if there’s any protein in her urine,’ Anton said. If she did that would be another unwelcome sign that things were not going well.
Louise came out with the bedpan and urine sample, which would be sent to the lab.
‘Can you check for protein?’ Anton asked.
Louise rolled her eyes at Hugh. ‘He thinks that because I’m blonde I’m thick,’ she said to a very blond Hugh, who smiled back. ‘Of course I’m going to check for protein!’
‘He’s blondist,’ Hugh joked, but then breathed out in relief when Louise called from the pan room.
‘No protein, no blood, no glucose—all normal, just some ketones.’
‘She hasn’t eaten since last night,’ Hugh said, which explained the ketones.
‘I’ve put dextrose up but right now the best thing she can do is to rest.’
It was a very long afternoon and evening.
Louise stayed close by Emily, while Anton delivered two babies but in between checked in on Emily.
At eight, Louise sat and wrote up her notes. It felt strange to be writing about Emily and her baby. She peeled off the latest CTG recording and headed out.
‘Can you buddy this?’ Louise asked Siobhan, a nurse on labour and delivery this evening.
‘Sure.’
They went through the tracing thoroughly, both taking their time and offering opinions before the two midwives signed off.
‘It’s looking a lot better than before,’ Siobhan said. ‘Let’s hope she keeps improving.’
Around nine-thirty p.m. Anton walked into the womb-like atmosphere Louise had created. The curtains were closed and the room was in darkness and there was just the noise of the baby’s heartbeat from the CTG. Emily was asleep and so too was Hugh. Louise sat in a rocking chair, her feet up on a stool, reading a magazine with a clip-on light attached to it that she carried in her pocket for such times, while holding Emily’s hand. She let go of the magazine to give a thumb’s-up to Anton, and then she put her finger to her lips and shushed him as he walked over to look at the monitors—Louise loathed noisy doctors.
All looked good.
Anton nudged his head towards the corridor and Louise stepped outside and they went into the small kitchenette where all the flower vases were stored and spoke for a while.
‘She’s still got back pain,’ Louise said, and Anton nodded.
‘We’ll keep her in Delivery tonight but, hopefully, if things continue to improve we can get her onto the ward tomorrow morning.’
‘Good.’
‘You were right,’ Anton said. ‘There was something going on with her last night.’ He saw the sparkle of tears in Louise’s eyes because, despite positive appearances, Anton knew she was very worried for her friend.
‘I’d love to have been wrong.’
‘I know.’
‘Anton …’ Louise spilled what was on her mind. ‘I bought a crib for the baby a few days ago.’
‘Okay.’
‘It was in a sale and I couldn’t resist it. I didn’t tell Emily in case she thought it bad luck …’
‘Louise!’ Anton’s firm use of her name told her to let that thought go.
She took a breath.
‘Louise,’ he said again, and she met his eye. ‘That’s crazy. I’ve got Mrs Adams in room two, who’s forty-one weeks. She’s done everything, the nursery is ready …’
‘I know, I know.’
‘Just put that out of your mind.’
Louise did. She blew it away then but a tear did sneak out because Louise cared so much