The Midwife's Christmas Baby

A baby.

His and Ella’s.

Right now they weren’t quite seeing eye to eye, but he’d make more of an effort. Because this really could work. He liked Ella and he knew she liked him. They were attracted to each other, or Hallowe’en wouldn’t have happened. And love...? Oliver had stopped believing in that a long time ago. But he thought they could make a good life together, for the baby’s sake.

He just needed to convince Ella.

‘I was wondering,’ Hestia said. ‘My husband and I were talking, this morning, and you were so good with us last night. If it wasn’t for you, we might not have our little boy now. And we’d like to name the baby after you. If that’s all right?’ she added.

‘I’d be honoured,’ Oliver said. ‘Though I wasn’t the only one in Theatre with you, so it’d be a bit greedy of me to take all the glory.’

‘You were the one who saved our baby,’ Hestia insisted. She peered over at his name tag. ‘Oliver. That’s such a lovely name.’

Oliver stared down at the baby. If Ella had a boy, would she want to call him Oliver? Or maybe Oliver as a middle name?

The baby started to grizzle and turn his head to the side. ‘It looks as if someone’s hungry.’ He handed little Oliver over to his mum. ‘Are you OK latching on now, or would you like me to get one of the midwives?’

‘I’ll manage—you’ve all been so great,’ Hestia said.

‘Good. If you need anything, let us know OK?’

‘I will,’ she promised. ‘But right now all I can think about is my little Oliver here. And how he’s the best Christmas present I could’ve asked for.’

Oliver smiled at her and left the room.

The best Christmas present I could’ve asked for.

In a way, that was what Ella had given him.

Needing to see her, he went in search of her.

‘She’s writing up her notes from her last delivery in the office,’ Jennie, one of their trainee midwives, told him. ‘The baby had shoulder dystocia.’

Which meant extra forms, Oliver knew. ‘Did everything go OK?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ He headed for the midwives’ office. Ella was sitting at the desk; as usual, she’d dictated something first into her phone, and it looked as if she was listening to her notes and then typing them up a few words at a time. Oliver knew from reading Ella’s file that she was dyslexic; he assumed that this was the way she’d learned to manage it, and it was also the reason why she wore coloured glasses when she was reading notes or sitting at a computer.

He rapped on the glass panel of the door to get her attention, then opened it and leaned round it. ‘Hi. I hear you just had a baby with shoulder dystocia.’

She nodded. ‘There were absolutely no signs of it beforehand. The baby weighed three and a half kilograms and the mum didn’t have gestational diabetes.’

‘Prediction models aren’t much help, as they’re based on the baby’s actual weight rather than the predicted weight, so don’t blame yourself for it. In half of shoulder dystocia cases, we don’t have a clue in advance, plus not all of them are big babies or from diabetic mothers,’ Oliver said. ‘How did it go?’

‘Fine. As soon as I realised what was happening, I asked Jennie to get Charlie, the anaesthetist and the neonatal specialist. The McRoberts manoeuvre didn’t quite work so I had to give her an episiotomy and guide the baby out, but the baby was fine and there’s no sign of a brachial plexus injury. I’m going to keep an eye on Sophie—the mum—for postpartum haemorrhage.’

‘Good job.’ She looked so tired right now, Oliver thought. Having to concentrate on typing must be hard for her. ‘Do you want a hand filling in the shoulder dystocia form?’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’m not that hopeless, Oliver.’

And then the penny dropped. She obviously worried that people thought she was less than capable because of her dyslexia. Maybe in the past people had treated her as if she was stupid; that would explain why she’d overreacted to him buying the folic acid, because it had made her feel that he thought she was stupid.

‘You’re not hopeless at all, but you look tired,’ he said, ‘and filling in forms is a hassle even if you don’t have to struggle with dyslexia as well.’ He remembered what Ella’s tutor said in her reference: ignore the exam results because Ella was an excellent midwife and could always tell you every last detail of a case. It just took her a lot longer than most to write it up. The exams must’ve been a real struggle for her, even if she’d been given extra time or the help of a scribe during the papers. And yet she’d never once given up. ‘You could always dictate it to me and I’ll type it up for you,’ he suggested.

She narrowed her eyes even further. ‘Would you make the same offer to anyone else on your team?’

She was worried about him showing favouritism towards her because of the baby? ‘Actually, yes, I would,’ he said. ‘That’s the point. We’re a team, at Teddy’s. And I’m responsible for my team’s well-being. Which includes you.’ He pulled up a chair next to her, brought the keyboard in front of him and angled the screen so they could both see it. ‘Right. Tell me what to type.’

Again she looked wary, and he thought she was going to argue with him; but then she nodded and dictated everything to him. Just as he’d expected, she was meticulous and accurate.

‘Thank you,’ she said when he’d finished typing.

‘Any time. You know your stuff and you pay attention to our mums, so you made that really easy for me.’ But she looked so tired, almost forlorn, and it worried him. He wanted to make things better. Now. He gave in to the impulse and rested his palm against her cheek. ‘Tell me what you need.’

‘Need?’

Her pupils were suddenly huge and his mouth went dry. Was she going to say that she needed him? Because, right now, he needed her, too. Wanted to hold her. Wanted to kiss her.

When she said nothing, he rubbed his thumb lightly against her skin. ‘Cup of tea? Sandwich? Because I’m guessing the staff kitchen is a no-go area for you right now.’

‘I’d love a cup of tea,’ she admitted. ‘And a sandwich. Anything really, really bland.’

‘Give me five minutes,’ he said. ‘And, for the record, I’m not trying to be bossy. You’ve had a busy shift with a tough delivery, and I bet you haven’t had the chance of a break today. I want to be there for you and our baby, Ella.’

He’d said the magic word, Ella thought as she watched Oliver leave the office. ‘Our’, not ‘my’. So maybe she wasn’t going to have to fight him for her independence.

He came back with the perfect cup of tea, a cheese sandwich and an apple that he’d cored and sliced for her. Ella felt her eyes fill with tears. ‘Oh, Oliver.’

‘Don’t cry.’

But she couldn’t stop the tears spilling over. He wrapped his arms round her, holding her close and making her feel cherished and protected, and that only made her want to cry more.

Hormones, that was all it was. And if someone came into the office and saw them, people might start to talk. Although Ella dearly wanted to stay in his arms, she wriggled free. ‘Oliver. People are going to start gossiping if they see us like this.’

‘No—they’ll think you’re tired after a long shift, and I’m doing exactly what I would for any colleague. Being supportive.’

‘I guess.’ She paused. ‘I’ve got an appointment through for the scan.’

He went very still. ‘Are you asking me to come with you?’

‘If you want to.’

There was a brief flash of hunger in his eyes. Did that mean he wanted to be there, or did he think it was his duty? She didn’t have a clue how he felt about her, and she wasn’t ready to ask—just in case the answer was that he saw it as his duty.

‘But if anyone asks why, it’s because you’re supporting your colleague,’ she said. ‘I’m not ready for the world to know about—well.’ She shrugged. There wasn’t an ‘us’. What should she call it? A fling? A mistake? The most stupid thing she’d ever done in her life?

And yet the end result had been something she’d always thought was beyond her reach. The most precious gift of all. Something that made her heart sing every time she thought about the baby.

‘Noted,’ he said, his voice expressionless. ‘What time?’

‘Eleven.’

‘I’ll be there,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to meet you in the waiting area outside the ultrasound room, or here?’

‘I think the waiting area would be best.’ If they went together from here, their colleagues were bound to start speculating, and she really didn’t want that. Not until she knew what was really happening between her and Oliver.

‘All right.’

‘I guess I’d better finish writing up my notes,’ she said. ‘And then I want to check on Sophie—the mum—to see how she and the baby are doing. And I promised to give a hand with putting up the Christmas decorations in the reception area.’

‘I’ll let you get on, then.’ For a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something else. Then he shook his head as if he’d changed his mind. ‘I’ll catch you later.’

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT MORNING, Ella woke with butterflies in her stomach. The pregnancy test she’d taken had been positive; but as a midwife she knew that there were all manner of things that could go wrong over the next few weeks. One in four pregnancies ended in a miscarriage. And would the scarring in her Fallopian tubes have caused a problem with the baby?

She managed to force down a slice of toast and was sitting in the waiting room outside the ultrasound suite at five minutes to eleven, having drunk the requested one litre of water. There were Christmas cards pinned on the cork board in the reception area, and some of the tables had been moved to make way for a tree. All the couples sitting in the waiting room now were clearly looking forward to the following Christmas: the first Christmas with their new baby. Right now, Ella didn’t know if she and the baby would still be here in Cheltenham with Oliver, or whether they’d be back in Ireland with her family, and it made her feel slightly melancholy.

Would Oliver be on time for the appointment? Or would he need to be in with a patient and have to miss the scan?

She reminded herself that it didn’t matter if he couldn’t be there; she could manage this perfectly well on her own. She tried to flick through one of the magazines left on the table to distract people who were waiting, but the paper was too shiny for her to be able to read the words easily.

And that was another worry: would her baby inherit her dyslexia? Ella knew that a daughter would have a one in four chance of inheriting the condition, and a son would have a three in four chance. She hated the idea that she could’ve passed on something that would cause her child difficulties in the future; though at least she was aware of what to look out for, so if necessary she’d be able to get help for her child much earlier than she’d received help, and her child wouldn’t go through most of his or her education feeling as clumsy and stupid as Ella had.

She’d just put the magazine back on the table when she heard Oliver say, ‘Good morning.’

She looked up and her heart skipped a beat. He really was beautiful: the walking definition of tall, dark and handsome. And she’d never reacted to someone as strongly as she reacted to Oliver.

‘Good morning,’ she said, trying to sound cool and collected and hoping that he didn’t pick up how flustered he made her feel.

‘Are you all right? Is there anything I can get you?’

‘Thanks, but I’m fine. And, before you ask, yes, I’ve drunk all the water they asked me to.’

‘Let’s hope they’re running on time so you’re not uncomfortable for too long. May I?’ He gestured to the chair next to her.

‘Of course.’ And how ridiculous it was that she longed for him to take her hand, the way that the partners of the other pregnant women in the waiting room seemed to have done. She had to remember that their relationship was limited to an unplanned and inconvenient shared status as a parent: they weren’t a proper couple. They probably never would be. The best she could hope for was that Oliver would be there for the baby as he or she grew up. It would be stupid to dream that the man who’d held her yesterday afternoon when she’d cried, the man she was falling for just a little more each day, felt the same way about her. Yesterday he’d been kind, that was all.

A few minutes later, they were called into the ultrasound suite. As they walked into the dimly lit room, the sonographer said, ‘Oh, Mr Darrington! I didn’t expect to see you.’ She looked speculatively at Ella. ‘I didn’t realise—’

‘I’m supporting Ella,’ Oliver cut in, ‘as I’d support any member of my team whose family lives a long way away.’

‘Oh, of course.’ The sonographer blushed. ‘I’m sorry for—well, making assumptions.’

Ella had wanted to keep everything just between the two of them, but at the same time she felt a prickle of hurt that Oliver hadn’t acknowledged the fact that this was his baby, and had fudged it in a way so that he hadn’t lied directly but had definitely misdirected the sonographer. She knew it was contrary and ridiculous of her to feel that way, and it was probably due to all the pregnancy hormones rushing round her system. How many times had she had to comfort a pregnant woman in their department who was upset for a totally irrational reason?

Following instructions, she lay on the couch and bared her stomach. The sonographer tucked tissue paper round Ella’s clothes to stop them being covered in gel, then put radio-conductive gel on her stomach.

‘It’s warm,’ Ella said in surprise. ‘The gel is always cold if we do a scan on the ward.’

The sonographer smiled. ‘It always is warm down here because of all the machinery heating up the room. I think it makes things a bit more comfortable for the mums.’

‘I agree. We’ll have to think of a way of doing that on the ward,’ Ella said to Oliver.

The sonographer ran the head of the transceiver over Ella’s stomach. ‘Good. I can confirm there’s just one baby here.’

Ella hadn’t even considered that she might be having twins. She had no idea if twins ran in Oliver’s family, but she could hardly ask him right then—not without adding to the hospital rumour mill.

‘The baby’s growing nicely,’ the sonographer said, and took some measurements on the screen. ‘It’s about thirteen millimetres long, so I’d say you’re about seven and a half weeks.’

‘That ties in with my dates,’ Ella said.

‘You can see the baby’s head and body very clearly.’ The sonographer turned the screen round to show them a bean-shaped blob; there was a flicker which Ella knew was the baby’s heartbeat. And she was shocked by the rush of sheer emotion that burst through her at the very first sight of her baby.

‘The baby’s heart rate is one hundred and fifty beats per minute—which you’ll know as a midwife is absolutely fine. It’s too early to measure the fluid behind the neck for a Nuchal test, as we’d usually do that at about eleven weeks, but we can do a combined screening test for Down’s then,’ the sonographer said.

Ella only realised then that she’d been holding her breath, waiting to know that everything was all right and her fertility problems hadn’t also caused a problem for the baby. ‘Thank you. It’s really good to know all’s well.’

There was a knock on the door and another member of the ultrasound team put her head round the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt—can I have a quick word?’

The sonographer went over for a brief discussion. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I just need to pop next door for a moment. I’ll be back very soon.’

‘Not a problem,’ Ella said, feeling a tug of sympathy for whoever was in the other ultrasound room. For the senior sonographer to be called in, it meant the team needed a second opinion on a potential complication.

As the door closed, Oliver took her hand. ‘Our baby,’ he said in wonder, looking at the screen. ‘I’ve seen so many of these scans since I started working as an ob-gyn, and even performed a few of them myself, but this... This is special.’ His voice sounded thick with emotion.

‘I know.’ It had affected Ella in the same way, and she was amazed by how strongly she felt. She’d only known about this baby for three days and it had turned her world upside down; but at the same time it was the most precious gift anyone could’ve given her and she was already bonding with the tiny being growing in her womb. She couldn’t help tightening her fingers round his.

‘Our baby, Ella,’ he said again, his voice hoarse, and cupped her face with his free hand.

His touch sent a tingle through her. ‘Oliver,’ she whispered.

He dipped his head to kiss her; it was soft and sweet and full of longing.

When he broke the kiss, he pulled back just far enough so they could look into each other’s eyes. Ella noticed that his pupils were huge. Was it because of the low light in the ultrasound room, or was it because he felt as emotional as she did right at that moment? Did he feel this same pull towards her that she felt towards him? Did they have a chance to make it as a couple—as a family?

‘Ella,’ he said softly, and kissed her again.

Her heart felt as if it had just done a somersault.

But then they heard the click of the door starting to open, and pulled apart again. Ella felt her cheeks burning, and really hoped that the sonographer hadn’t seen anything—or, worse still, that she looked as if she’d just been thoroughly kissed.

Oliver looked both shocked and horrified. Ella could tell instantly that he was regretting the kiss and shrivelled a little inside. How stupid of her to hope that the kiss meant he felt something for her. Clearly he’d just got carried away by the rush of the moment.

‘Sorry about that,’ the sonographer said brightly. ‘I guess as you work in Teddy’s, Ella, you already know the answers to the kind of questions my mums normally ask, but is there anything you’d like to ask?’

Ella smiled. ‘I’m not going to ask to know whether the baby’s a girl or a boy, because apart from the fact I know it’s way too early for you to be able to tell, it doesn’t matter either way to me.’ Though, she wondered, did it make a difference to Oliver? ‘But would it be possible to have a photograph, please?’

‘Sure. Let’s see if we can get you a slightly less blurry picture,’ the sonographer said with a smile. Once she’d got a picture she was happy with, she asked, ‘How many copies do you need?’

‘Two,’ Ella said. ‘How much are they?’

Before Oliver could embarrass them both by trying to pay, she took out her purse and handed over the money.

The photographs were printed while she wiped her abdomen free of gel and restored order to her clothes.

‘Thank you for your support, Oliver,’ she said. ‘I know you’re really busy, so you don’t have to hang around and wait for me.’

It was practically a dismissal. So Ella was obviously regretting their kiss, Oliver thought. And she was probably right. They could do with some space. He’d got carried away in the heat of the moment, overwhelmed by seeing the baby on the screen. Right now he needed to take a step back from Ella, metaphorically as well as literally.

‘Thanks. I’ll see you later on the ward,’ he said.

But before he had a chance to leave the sonographer was called next door again.

‘Ella,’ he said, his voice low and urgent. ‘What happened just now—it shouldn’t have done. I apologise.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Her voice was very cool.

And he deserved that coolness. It was all his fault. ‘I guess I lost my head a bit. It was the excitement of seeing the baby on the screen and hearing the positive news.’

‘We both got carried away,’ Ella agreed. ‘It won’t happen again.’ She gestured to the prints. ‘I assume you’d like one of these?’

‘I would.’ It shocked him how very much he wanted the picture. Their baby. ‘Thank you,’ he said when she handed one to him.

‘It’s the least I could do.’

‘I owe you—’ he began.

‘It’s fine. A print of a scan isn’t going to bankrupt me.’

That wasn’t what he’d meant at all. ‘Ella...’ He sighed, seeing the determined set of her jaw. ‘OK. I’ll see you later. And thank you for the photograph.’ He wasn’t ready to share the news with anyone yet, but having the picture made everything so much more real. He tucked it into his wallet and left the room.

And he’d really have to get his head together.

He’d had no right to kiss her. The reason her fingers had tightened round his was purely because she was emotional about the baby. Seeing the little life they’d created, the strength of the baby’s beating heart. That was all.

She wasn’t in love with him.

And he wasn’t in love with her, he told himself firmly. The attraction he felt towards her was because of the baby, rooted in responsibility rather than passion. He needed to be fair to her and leave her free to find someone else. Someone who hadn’t put their heart in permafrost and would be able to give her the love she deserved.

But he’d meet every single one of his responsibilities towards the baby, and he needed to find a good working relationship with Ella, so their child never felt unwanted or a burden. They definitely needed to talk. Later—he really needed to gather his thoughts first.

Annabelle beckoned Ella into her office as she walked past. ‘So how did it go?’

Ella beamed and took the scan picture from her purse. ‘Look at this! I know, I know, it’s too soon to see anything more than a bean-shaped blob.’

‘It’s gorgeous,’ Annabelle said, looking slightly wistful.

Ella bit her lip. ‘Oh, Annabelle, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to open up old wounds.’ But she’d so wanted to share the picture with someone who’d understand how excited she was.

‘You haven’t upset me in the slightest.’ Annabelle hugged her. ‘I’m thrilled for you. Really, truly and honestly.’

‘Thank you.’ Ella tucked the picture back into her purse.

‘So what’s the situation between you and Oliver?’ Annabelle asked.

‘Complicated,’ Ella admitted. Even though Annabelle was her best friend, Ella wasn’t going to tell her about that kiss today. Oliver had apologised for it and said he’d got carried away in the heat of the moment and it was a mistake, so it’d be pointless for her to wish that it had meant anything more.

‘Are you a couple, or not?’

‘Not,’ Ella said.

‘Do you want to be?’ Annabelle asked.

That was the crunch question. And the worst part was that Ella couldn’t really answer it. ‘I don’t know. I like him, Annabelle—I like him a lot—but I don’t want to lose my independence. I worked so hard to qualify as a midwife, and I hate the way Oliver just expects me to cut back on my shifts and do whatever he says. He obviously hasn’t even thought about what it’s going to do to my career.’

‘I think,’ Annabelle said, ‘you need to talk to him.’

‘You’re right. I know,’ Ella agreed.

‘But, before that,’ Annabelle said gently, ‘you need to work out what you really want.’

And that was going to be the really hard part. Because right at that moment Ella wanted everything—and she knew that was way too much to ask.

That evening, when she got home, Ella video-called her parents.

‘Is everything all right, darling?’ Roisin O’Brien asked. ‘You always call us on a Thursday, and today’s only Tuesday.’

‘I know. Mam, I have some news.’

Roisin beamed and asked hopefully, ‘You’re coming back to Ireland and going to work in the hospital in Limerick?’