The Midwife's Christmas Miracle. Jennifer Taylor
Читать онлайн книгу.
a determined little chap who knows his own mind,’ Lucy said lightly. She went over to the bed and introduced herself to the young mother-to-be. ‘Hello, Sophie, my name is Lucy Harris and I’ve just started working here today. I’ll be looking after you when Margaret goes home.’
‘You are a proper midwife, though?’ Sophie said anxiously. ‘You’re not just a trainee?’
‘No. I’ve been a midwife for four years and I’ve delivered lots of babies during that time,’ Lucy explained. It wasn’t ideal to have to hand over a patient in the middle of a delivery and she was keen to allay the girl’s fears. ‘I worked at a hospital in Manchester before I came here.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, that’s all right, I suppose.’
Sophie still sounded a little dubious but Lucy understood. The relationship between a mother and her midwife was a delicate one and needed to be based on trust if it was to be successful. She patted Sophie’s hand. ‘Everything is going to be fine, Sophie, believe me. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like Margaret to update me as to what progress you’ve made.’
Sophie closed her eyes as Lucy moved away from the bed. She looked both exhausted and extremely anxious as she settled back against the pillows. Lucy frowned as she studied the girl’s strained face.
‘When was she admitted?’
‘Just before eight p.m. last night,’ Margaret replied. ‘Her contractions were quite strong, so I was hopeful it would be a fairly speedy delivery even though it’s her first baby. Unfortunately, everything started to slow down a couple of hours later and now we’ve come to a complete standstill.’
‘How’s the baby doing?’ Lucy queried.
‘Fine. Heartbeat is strong and there’s no signs of distress. It’s just going to be one of those stop-go deliveries from the look of it, which is a pity because I was hoping to get it over as quickly as possible.’ Margaret must have seen the question in Lucy’s eyes and lowered her voice. ‘Sophie’s not got anyone with her, you see. From what I can gather, the baby’s father took off a couple of months ago and she’s not seen him since.’
‘What about family or friends?’ Lucy asked sympathetically.
‘She’s never mentioned her family so I’ve no idea what the situation is there. As for friends, well, she hasn’t lived in Dalverston all that long. Apparently, the baby’s father got a job at the industrial park and that’s why they moved here.’ Margaret sighed. ‘I feel really sorry for her because she’s been very much on her own since he disappeared off the scene.’
‘What a terrible shame.’
Lucy’s heart went out to the girl, although she couldn’t help thinking that even if Sophie had had friends and family to support her, it might not have helped. As she knew to her cost, sometimes it was the people you were closest to who let you down most of all.
The thought sent a shaft of pain surging through her but she forced it down. She refused to dwell on the past when she had moved to Dalverston to escape it. She read through the notes Margaret had made then checked Sophie’s pulse and BP, the baby’s heartbeat, all the routine tasks that were so essential to the eventual outcome. She had just finished when the door opened and Max Curtis appeared.
‘Hi! I thought I’d check to see what progress we’re making,’ he said as he came over to the bed.
Lucy stepped aside to give him room, somewhat surprised to discover how tall he was. He had been sitting down when they had been introduced so she’d had no idea that he must be at least six feet tall with a leanly muscular physique under a pair of well-cut dark grey trousers and a paler grey shirt. All of a sudden she felt unusually conscious of her own lack of inches. At a mere five feet two, she could best be described as petite, although a lushly feminine figure did make up for what she lacked in height.
‘Everything seems to have come to a dead stop, Dr Curtis,’ Sophie said forlornly. ‘I don’t understand why it’s happened.’
‘It just does sometimes, Sophie,’ he assured her. ‘It’s all systems go and then everything suddenly tails off. Are you still having contractions?’
‘No. I’ve not had one for ages now.’
‘Let me take a look and then we’ll decide what we’re going to do.’
He gently examined her, explaining what he was doing as he checked the position of the baby and how far her cervix had dilated. Lucy appreciated the fact that he didn’t rush. He appeared to have all the time in the world and she knew that it would reassure Sophie more than anything else would do. She was pleased to see that the girl looked far less anxious by the time he finished and explained that he was going to give her something to help restart her contractions.
He wrote out an instruction for an intravenous infusion of synthetic oxytocin to be administered. This would augment the naturally occurring oxytocin that caused the muscles in the uterus to contract. He handed it to Lucy after she told him that Margaret was going off duty. ‘I’ll check back with you later to see what progress we’re making. In the meantime, get the switchboard to page me if you have any concerns.’
‘I shall,’ Lucy concurred.
‘Hopefully, this should get things back on track,’ he added, slipping his pen back into his pocket. ‘We’ll give nature a bit of a boost and hope it’ll do its stuff.’
‘Always the best solution,’ she agreed. She had never been an advocate of rushing in unnecessarily and it was good to know that they were in accord in that respect.
‘It seems we’re in agreement, then.’ Max smiled at her then headed towards the door. ‘Right, now I’m off to make myself a large cup of black coffee. I need a serious injection of caffeine if I’m to get through the rest of the day.’
‘That sounds like desperation talking,’ Lucy replied lightly.
‘Oh, it is, believe me. Given half the chance, I would curl up in this doorway and fall fast asleep!’
He laughed but Lucy could tell that he was only partly joking. She frowned as she took stock of the lines etched either side of his mouth, the weariness in his dark brown eyes, and realised all of a sudden how exhausted he looked.
‘Didn’t you get much sleep last night?’
‘I didn’t get any. I was about to get into bed when I was called back here to see a patient. Eclampsia,’ he added succinctly.
‘Oh, I see.’ Lucy nodded, understanding why he had needed to rush back into work. Eclampsia was a highly dangerous condition for both a mother and her child. It could lead to convulsions and even coma and death if not treated in time. Normally, the condition was picked up as pre-eclampsia during routine antenatal screening. The combination of high blood pressure, protein in the urine and oedema—an accumulation of fluid in the tissues—were all indications of it. She was surprised that alarm bells hadn’t started ringing earlier, in fact.
‘Was there no sign beforehand that the mother was at risk?’ she asked curiously.
‘None at all. Mind you, the fact that she missed her last couple of antenatal appointments didn’t help.’ Max sighed. ‘When I asked her why she hadn’t been to the clinic, she said that she hadn’t had the time. Apparently, she had a hair appointment on the first occasion and needed to get her nails done the next time.’
‘Unbelievable!’ Lucy exclaimed.
‘Yep. I think that just about sums it up. Fortunately, her husband phoned us when she started complaining that she had a headache and that her vision was blurred. He was told to bring her straight in so she was here when she had a convulsion. We administered anti-convulsant drugs and I delivered the baby by Caesarean section. He’s in the special care baby unit, but I’m pretty sure he’ll be fine. Mum will need monitoring for the next few weeks but she should be all right too.’ He shrugged. ‘It was worth a sleepless night, all things