Midwives On Call: From Babies To Bride

‘Huh?’

‘Samantha. You know … my carer? I asked her if she’d like to come out and have a beer with us and she was keen. There’s plenty of staff on tonight so it’s no problem.’ ‘I … ah …’ Was he going to be playing gooseberry while his brother was having a date?

Surely not.

But why not? He knew better than anyone that a disability didn’t change who you were and his brother was an awesome guy. Why wouldn’t a girl be smart enough to realise that? He had to admit it was a disturbing thought, though. What if Nathan fell in love and got his heart broken? Maybe a man-to-man talk about how well the three-dates rule worked needed to take priority over the talk about how risky independent living could be.

Not that either of those talks was going to happen tonight.

‘Sure,’ he heard himself saying, as though it was no big deal. ‘There’s plenty of room in the van. Maybe one of the other guys would like to come too.’

‘Nope.’ Nathan scooted through the door ahead of him. ‘I only invited Sam.’

They were in a very different part of the botanical gardens this time. The guests crowded around the couple who were standing beneath the wrought-iron archway on the steps to the Temple of the Winds. The greenery of overhanging trees shaded them from the hot sun of a stunning autumn afternoon and once again Charles Delamere was in place as the master of ceremonies

‘Ten years ago,’ he told them, ‘Emily and Oliver made their wedding vows. Circumstances, grief, life drove them apart but when the time was right fate brought them together again. They’ve decided to renew their vows, and they’ve also decided that here, in the gardens that are—and have been—loved by the whole family, is the place they’d like to do it.’

Emily and Oliver exchanged a look that was tender enough to bring a lump to Sophia’s throat. She glanced over at Toby, Em’s foster son, who was being held by Em’s mother, Adrianna. This was a real family affair.

There had been so many tears at Gretta’s farewell in the children’s playground and there were probably just as many as the couple exchanged heartfelt vows, declaring their love and promising their commitment, but there was real joy this time. An affirmation that the risk of truly loving was worthwhile.

It was contagious, that hope. Maybe there was someone out there for her, Sophia thought. Someone who could see past the fact that she could never give him children of his own. Maybe she could find what Emily and Oliver had. How good would that be?

Something would have to change, though, if she was going to become as brave as Emily. Not that she knew quite what that something was but she was definitely going to give it some serious thought.

And, in the meantime, she could celebrate her friend’s happiness. The Rooftop Bar was a good place to be on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Adrianna took little Toby home after a short time but told Oliver and Emily to stay and celebrate with all their friends. She would sort the final packing that was needed before they all went on their family honeymoon to the Great Barrier Reef the next day.

As often happened, the men gravitated together at one point and Sophia found herself sitting with a group of the women she knew best around a deliciously shaded table. Right beside Emily, she impulsively gave her friend another hug.

‘I’m just so happy for you, Em. For you and Oliver. You so deserve every bit of this happiness.’

‘It’ll be your turn next.’ Emily’s smile was radiant. ‘I’m sure of it.’

Isla overheard the comment. She was smiling as she refilled Sophia’s glass with champagne. ‘Good timing that she’s met that hot paramedic, then, isn’t it?’

‘What?’ Emily’s jaw dropped. ‘How come I haven’t heard about this? Who is he?’

‘Nobody,’ Sophia muttered. ‘Just a guy that turned up for that cord prolapse job yesterday.’

‘And he’s gorgeous,’ Isla added. ‘Soph said so.’

‘I said he was good at his job, that’s all.’

‘She couldn’t stop talking about him.’ Darcie Green had joined them. ‘I can vouch for that.’

Emily’s sideways glance was significant. ‘Just remember what I told you,’ she said, raising her glass. ‘You don’t have to marry the guy. Just get out there and have some fun.’

‘Why shouldn’t she marry the guy?’ Isla asked, between sips of her tall glass of soda water. ‘Have you got something against marriage, Soph?’

‘Not at all. I’m thrilled for Oliver and Em. And for you and Alessi. And …’ Sophia glanced around the table, trying to distract the focus of attention. ‘And what’s going on with you and Lucas, Darcie? I’m sure I wasn’t the only one to notice the sparks flying at the ball.’

Lucas was the super-hot senior midwife at the MMU and, while the husbands of the women about to give birth were less than impressed with his popularity, there was no shortage of expectant mums keen to become his patients. No shortage of women in Melbourne just as keen to fill another potential role in his life either.

Darcie was an English obstetrician, on secondment to the MMR. She was dedicated to her job and professional enough to have made several people sharpen up at work. Lucas didn’t seem to be in that number, however, and the antagonism between them had been noted on the grapevine, but the obvious sparks at the ball had not come across as being between two people who didn’t like each other. Not at all.

Not that Darcie was about to admit anything. She shrugged. ‘We all had a good time at the ball,’ she said, carefully avoiding eye contact with any of the other women. ‘But if there was anything serious going on, I’d say it was between Flick, here, and Tristan.’

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the women and more than one knowing smile accompanying the nods.

‘I’m sure I wasn’t the only one to see you two leaving together,’ Darcie continued lightly. ‘Just what time did you get home, young woman?’

Felicia Lawrence, the student midwife, turned bright red. For an awful moment, Sophia was sure she was about to burst into tears.

Whatever had happened that night was really none of their business. Sophia needed to give her an escape route.

‘So you two aren’t dating or anything interesting like that, then?’

Flick shook her head with more emphasis than was needed. ‘I’m not remotely interested in dating,’ she claimed. ‘My career’s the only important thing in my life right now. Like Sophia.’

‘I didn’t say I wasn’t interested in dating.’ Sophia eyed her glass of champagne suspiciously. Had she had too much? ‘I just … haven’t met anybody. It takes time, you know—when you move to a new city.’

‘But you’ve met the hot paramedic now.’ Darcie was smiling. ‘What was his name? Andy?’

‘Aiden.’ It seemed to be Sophia’s turn to blush now. She could feel the warmth in her cheeks as she said his name aloud. ‘Aiden Harrison.’

‘Is he single? Did he ask for your number?’

‘No.’ She bit her lip. ‘He did ask me for a date, though.’

‘And you said no? What were you thinking?’

Darcie and Flick seemed very relieved to have the spotlight turned onto someone else’s love life and, for Flick’s sake, Sophia was happy enough to take centre stage.

‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted. ‘Maybe I thought he was just being nice. I’d said I owed him a coffee because he’d had to abandon one to come to the job. He said he’d take a beer instead. It seemed—I don’t know—a bit of a joke, maybe?’

‘Nonsense,’ the women chorused. She was gorgeous, they assured her. Intelligent. Fun. Any guy would have to be crazy not to be genuinely interested.

Emily caught her glance in a private moment. She was the only one who might understand that moment of panic. That dip into a whirl of thoughts that had been spinning for so many years now. The issue of meeting someone you really liked and then agonising over when to tell them. On the first date? Did you say something like, ‘Yeah, I’d love to go out with you but you should know that if you want to have kids some time in the future then I’m not the woman for you’? Or did you wait until things got serious and then field the repercussions of someone feeling a bit cheated? Deceived, even.

Yes. Emily’s glance was sympathetic. But there was something else there, too. Encouragement?

‘What does it matter if it did start out as a bit of a joke?’ she said. ‘Isn’t the whole idea to have fun? To let your hair down a bit and enjoy the best of what life has to offer that doesn’t have anything to do with work? It doesn’t ever have to be anything serious.’

You don’t have to marry the guy. Was that code for ‘You don’t have to even tell him’?

‘How many guys do we know who have no intention of getting serious?’ she added. ‘They’re just out to have fun. We could learn something from those guys.’

‘Like Alessi.’ Darcie nodded. ‘Oops … sorry, Isla, but he was a terrible flirt and nobody lasted more than one night. Until you, of course …’

‘Not a good example,’ Emily chided. ‘But you’re right. Soph could use a bit of that attitude and just get out there and enjoy herself with some attractive male company.’

Sophia found herself nodding. And hadn’t she just made a silent vow that very afternoon that something needed to change in her life? Maybe she wouldn’t have to give too much thought to what that something was.

‘Maybe I will,’ she said aloud. ‘Not that there’s anyone around who’s offering the company.’

‘The hot paramedic did. You’re probably putting anyone off asking by sending out I’m not available vibes. Change your attitude and they’ll be around in droves. You might even meet him again.’

Sophia laughed. ‘I don’t think so.’ But she reached for her glass of champagne, feeling lighter in spirit than she had for a long time. ‘But, hey … I’ll give it a go. The next time I get asked out—especially if it’s the hot paramedic—I’ll say yes.’

‘Promise?’ Emily raised her glass to clink it against Sophie’s. The other women followed her example and the glasses met in a circle over the centre of the table.

‘I promise,’ Sophie said.

CHAPTER THREE

HE HAD THE best job in the world, no doubt about it.

Aiden was rolling slowly, the red and blue lights on his handlebars flashing as he eased through the crowds on Southbank. The wide, paved area on the south side of the Yarra River offered spectacular views of the river and city from cafés, restaurants and upmarket hotels.

The gorgeous autumn afternoon had tourists and locals enjoying the exercise, food and entertainment. A juggler had attracted a good crowd and so had an old aboriginal man playing a didgeridoo. Aiden could hear the hollow, haunting notes of the music over the bike’s engine. He angled his path to avoid smudging the work of a street artist who was working with chalk and then he could see his destination. Another huddle of people, but they weren’t there for entertainment. He’d been called to a woman who’d collapsed on one of the riverside benches beneath the trees.

‘I’ve put her in the recovery position,’ a man told Aiden as soon as he’d propped the bike up on its stand. ‘I did a first-aid course last year.’

‘Good work.’ He flipped up the chinguard of his helmet. ‘Did anyone see what happened?’

‘She was walking around, looking weird,’ someone else offered. ‘Like she was drunk. And then she sat down and just toppled sideways.’

Aiden had reached the unconscious woman. He stripped off his gloves, tilted her head to make sure her airway was open and then felt for a pulse in her neck. It was there. Rapid and faint enough to suggest low blood pressure. Her skin felt cool and clammy. He shook her shoulder.

‘Hello? Can you hear me? Open your eyes, love.’

No response. Aiden looked up. ‘Does anyone know this woman? Was she with someone?’

There was a general sound of denial and shaking of heads. Aiden checked for a MedicAlert bracelet or necklace as he ran through the possible causes of unconsciousness in his head. He couldn’t smell any alcohol and there was no sign of any head trauma. The woman was young, probably in her early thirties. This could be due to epilepsy or drugs or diabetes. At least he could eliminate one of the possible causes easily. Unrolling a kit, he took a small lancet, pricked the woman’s finger and eased the drop of blood onto a testing strip for a glucometer. He also reached for his radio to give Dispatch an update. Whatever was going on, here, this young woman would need transport to hospital.

The glucometer beeped and it was a relief to see that the reading was low. Hypoglycaemia certainly fitted with the limited information he’d been given of her appearing drunk and then collapsing. It also fitted the physical signs of the clammy skin, rapid heart rate and a low blood pressure. Back-up was on the way but it would take time to get a stretcher through the crowds from the nearest point an ambulance could park and Aiden had everything he needed to start treatment.

IV access was the first priority and there were plenty of willing hands to hold up the bag with the glucose infusion. He got the small cardiac monitor out of one of the panniers on the back of his bike as well. It had only been a few days ago that he’d read an interesting article suggesting that sudden death in young diabetics could be due to cardiac problems from electrolyte disturbances.

The glucose infusion was working its magic well before he started attaching electrodes. The young woman opened her eyes, blinked a couple of times and then groaned.

‘Oh, no … it happened again, didn’t it?’

‘I’m Aiden, a paramedic. What’s your name, love?’

‘Hayley. I …’ She looked up at the crowd of onlookers. ‘Oh … God … this is so embarrassing.’

‘You’re diabetic?’

‘Yeah … I knew I needed to eat. That’s why I came along here. I was heading for the food court in Southgate. It came on so suddenly …’

Aiden could see an ambulance crew manoeuvring a stretcher through the crowd. More people were stopping to stare, wondering what was going on. No wonder the poor girl was embarrassed. The sooner they got her into the privacy of the back of an ambulance, the better.

Checking her blood-glucose levels again could wait until then as well. Aiden kick-started his bike and followed the crew, until he could park beside the ambulance. He needed to fill in his paperwork and he had a feeling that Hayley was not going to be keen to be taken to hospital.

‘I don’t need to go,’ she insisted a few minutes later. ‘I feel fine now.’

‘When was the last time you had a hypo?’

‘A couple of weeks ago,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘But before that, it hadn’t happened for ages. Over a year.’

‘That means your control is becoming more challenging. You need a reassessment.’

‘I’ll go to my doctor. Soon.’

‘It could happen again today.’

‘I’ll eat. I’ll go and get a sandwich right now.’

It took time to persuade Hayley that it would be a good idea to go the emergency department at the Victoria but none of the paramedics were happy to let her go when she didn’t have someone with her to monitor her condition. And Aiden had something else that was bothering him.

‘Have you thought of wearing a MedicAlert bracelet?’

Hayley made a face. ‘It’s bad enough having to live with something like this, without advertising it. And have you any idea how much harder it makes it to find a job? People look at you like you’ve got a disability or something.’

Her words stayed with Aiden as he watched the ambulance take his patient away. He stayed where he was, astride his bike, watching the mill of the people he could still see on Southbank. This wasn’t a bad place to park up until he got another call. Central city and covering a patch well away from the nearest ambulance station. A young man in a wheelchair went past amongst the crowd.

There was a disability that couldn’t be disguised. And he knew what it was like to attract the intrusive attention of people who felt they had the right to ask personal questions. They’d often been directed at him over the years—as if Nathan’s brain didn’t work any better than his legs did.

‘Why’s he in a wheelchair, then?’

‘Oh, the poor boy. Can he feed himself?’

‘How does he go to the toilet?’

The guilt was always there, welded onto his soul, and the curiosity of strangers turned the screws painfully for Aiden, but Nathan had developed a resilience in his teenage years that had astounded him. He could deal with any situation now with a humour that often shocked the nosy people. Like those awful jokes he kept adding to.

‘What do you call a quadriplegic under your car? Jack.’

Despite himself, Aiden found his lips quirking. What did it matter what other people thought? Nathan had it sorted. He was happy. In fact, he was happier than he’d ever been right now. The way he’d been looking at Sam the other night … Was something going on already and, if so, how badly could that end? He needed to have a serious talk with his younger brother. Try and get him prepared for something that would hurt more than public scrutiny or pity.

His radio crackled into life.

‘Code One,’ Dispatch told him, giving him an address not far away. ‘Twenty-four-year-old female with severe abdominal pain.’

‘Copy that.’ Aiden tilted the bike off its stand and kicked it into life. He activated the lights and then the siren. Traffic was building up but he’d be able to weave through it fast. He loved a code one response and the freedom it allowed. With a bike, he got way more freedom than an ambulance to break a speed limit or use the tramlines. He just had to be a bit more careful. Hitting tram lines at the wrong angle and the ambulance would have to stop for him instead of getting to the job.

It took less than four minutes to arrive on scene. Another thirty seconds and he was in the room with the young woman who was bent over a chair and groaning loudly.

‘It’s the fish I had last night. Ohhh…. It really hurts and I’ve been sick.’

Aiden blinked. Dispatch hadn’t bothered mentioning that his patient was pregnant.

‘How far along are you?’

‘Thirty-seven weeks.’

‘And how far apart are the pains you’re getting?’

‘I dunno. It’s happening every five or ten minutes, I guess. But I’m not in labour. It’s that fish … I knew I shouldn’t be eating prawns.’

It took very little time to convince his patient that this was, indeed, labour.

‘I’m not going to hospital. I’m having a home birth. Can you call my midwife?’

‘Sure. What’s her name?’

‘Sophia Toulson. Her card’s on the fridge.’

The phone in his hand seconds later, Aiden found himself smiling again. It was surprising how strong the hope was that Sophia would be available and able to get here fast.

For his patient’s benefit, of course …

Flick was excited. This was the first home birth she had been to since starting to shadow Sophia.

‘But what if something goes wrong? Like a postpartum haemorrhage or something?’

‘We call for back-up. The Melbourne ambulance service is fabulous. And we’re not far from the hospital. In most cases, if there’s going to be trouble, we get enough warning.’

‘You didn’t the other day, with that cord prolapse, did you?’

‘No.’

And her pager hadn’t warned her that the paramedic on scene had been riding a motorbike. She could see it parked outside Gemma’s house.

‘Nice bike,’ Flick murmured.

‘Mmm.’

Those butterflies were dancing in her stomach again. How many SPRINT paramedics rode bikes in the city? It didn’t mean that she was about to have another encounter with the man her friends were all now referring to as ‘the hot paramedic’.

Except it appeared that she was.

‘Hey …’ Aiden Harrison was grinning. ‘We’ve got to stop meeting like this. Rumours will start.’

Flick gave a huff of laughter and Sophia gave her a warning glance before letting her gaze shift back to Aiden, her lips curling into a smile.

‘You did say that babies were your favourite thing but you don’t have to take over my job, you know.’ She moved past him. ‘Why didn’t you call me when the pains started, Gemma?’

‘I didn’t think it was labour. I thought I had some dodgy prawns last night because I started getting cramps just after I’d eaten. They went away for a while this morning and then one was so painful I screamed and my neighbour called the ambulance.’

‘Contractions are four to five minutes apart,’ Aiden told her. ‘Lasting about ninety seconds. Vital signs all good. Gemma’s been happy to keep walking around.’

‘Let’s get you on your bed for a minute,’ Sophia said. ‘I want to check how baby’s doing and what stage of dilatation you’re at. This is Flick, by the way. Our student midwife. Are you happy to have her assisting? It’s very valuable experience for her if she can be hands-on.’

Gemma nodded as she let Sophia guide her towards the bedroom.

‘I can stay until I get another call,’ Aiden said. ‘Unless I’m in the way.’

It was entirely unprofessional to get distracted by noticing how much she didn’t want him to disappear. Even worse to take another look at him and find it so hard to look away. Those eyes were just as warm and interesting as she’d remembered, and that smile made it impossible not to smile back.

Oh … help. How long had they been staring at each other? Long enough for Flick and Gemma to exchange a surprised glance and then a complicit grin.

‘It’s fine by me if you stay,’ Gemma said. You know you want to, her tone suggested. ‘My mum’s on her way but I told her not to hurry. This is going to take ages, isn’t it?’

‘Let’s find out. Flick, get some gloves on and you can examine Gemma and find out what her stage of dilatation is.’

Keeping her voice low, it was possible to use this opportunity as a teaching and practical experience session for Flick.

‘Tell me how you’ll make the assessment.’

‘At two centimetres I’ll be able to fit one finger loosely through the cervix but not two fingers. Two fingers will be loose at four centimetres. There’s two centimetres of cervix palpable on both sides at six centimetres, one at eight and there’s only an anterior lip or a bit left laterally at nine centimetres.’

‘And what are you feeling?’

‘Nothing.’ Flick’s eyes widened. ‘I can’t feel any cervix at all. Am I doing something wrong?’

Sophia smiled as she double-checked Flick’s findings, shaking her head at her student, who had been correct in her evaluation. ‘You’re fully dilated, Gemma,’ she told their patient. ‘Let’s check the baby’s position and then get set up. What do you need to do now, Flick?’

‘The four Leopold’s manoeuvres. First one checks the upper abdomen to make sure it’s the baby’s buttocks and not the head and then the umbilical area to locate the baby’s back and—’

‘Can I go to the bathroom first?’ Gemma pleaded. ‘I really need to go.’

Aiden helped Flick set up for the birth while Sophia stayed close to Gemma. They spread waterproof sheets over the bed and one of the armchairs in the living room and gathered some clean towels. Flick opened a kit and checked the resuscitation gear they carried in case it would be needed.

Aiden found himself glancing frequently at the door, waiting for the reappearance of Sophia and Gemma.

The attraction he’d felt the first time he’d met the cute little midwife had come back with a vengeance. Those lovely brown eyes were so warm and that smile made him feel like he’d just done something outstanding. Something that deserved approval because he’d somehow made the world a better place.

Heck … all he’d done was crack a fairly weak joke. Imagine how Sophia would look at him if he really did something to be proud of.

He wasn’t going to let his opportunity slip past. He might have made a note of the number he’d used to call her but that was just her pager service. He was going to ask for her personal number as soon as he got the chance—as long as he didn’t get called away first. Who knew how long this labour might take? Gemma was taking long enough just to go to the loo.