The Monticello Baby Miracles

‘It will be easier on you and your babies if you’re on all fours,’ he told her. ‘It opens up the birth canal and, even though it may seem uncomfortable, believe me, it will be far better than being on your back. Just try it. Here, I’ll help you.’

He reached for her and she felt the warmth and strength in his hold as his hands guided her into the position he needed to best deliver the babies. He made sure her hands and knees were still resting on the damp jacket, not the bare floor.

‘I’d like to put a cool compress on you. It’s getting warm in here but I’m running out of clothing to give you.’

Even in pain, Claudia smiled at his remark. It was true. He had given his jacket and his shirt. ‘There’s a clean scarf in my bag but it’s very small. You could wet that.’

Patrick reached for her large tan leather bag and dragged it unceremoniously across the metal flooring. He emptied the contents onto the floor, found the small patterned scarf and then noticed the films.

‘Are those films for your obstetrician?’

She turned her head slightly. ‘Yes, he was going to check them and then sign the papers to allow me to fly home to London.’

He pushed the envelope to the side and took her bottle of water and sparingly dampened the scarf. Gently lifting the sweat-dampened curls on the nape of her neck, he rested the tiny compress on her hot skin. There was nothing he could do about whatever showed on the films now. They wouldn’t change anything in the confines of the elevator. He had no idea what the next few minutes would hold but he would be beside her and do whatever he could to keep Claudia and her babies alive.

Feeling his hand on her skin felt so calming and reassuring and Claudia wondered if it was the touch of his skin against hers as much as the makeshift compress. But neither gave relief when the next powerful contraction came and she cried out with the pain.

Her cries tugged at Patrick’s heart. He hated the fact there was nothing he could do. But he needed to focus on delivering both babies or risk losing them all. He wouldn’t let that happen.

Suddenly the first baby began to enter the world. A mass of thick black hair curled like a halo around his perfect tiny face.

‘Just push slowly and think about your breathing,’ he instructed her. ‘We need that to control the baby’s arrival. We don’t want to rush him. You can tear your skin and I want to avoid that.’

The urge to give a giant push was overwhelming but Claudia knew she had to let her breathing slow the pace. She thought of Patrick’s handsome face and tried to follow his instructions. There were a few more contractions and finally Claudia’s first baby was born into Patrick’s waiting hands. He let out a tiny cry as Patrick quickly cleared his mouth of mucous and quickly checked his vital signs.

The baby was small but not so small as to put him in immediate danger by not having access to a humidicrib. Patrick had feared he might have been tinier considering the gestational age and the fact he was a twin. He clamped the cord with a sterile surgical tie before he laid him on the shirt. The baby had endured a harsh entry into the world and the shirt was a far cry from a soft landing but, until his brother was born, there was little Patrick could do for the new arrival. He could not put the child to Claudia’s breast as she needed to remain on all fours until the second baby was delivered.

Another contraction began and the second baby was quickly on its way. Patrick hoped that he would not be faced with a foot. That would mean a breech birth and complications he did not want to contemplate.

That next painful contraction came and Claudia cried out loudly but managed with each following breath to push her second baby head first into the world. And once again into Patrick’s arms, where the baby took his first breath and cried for the first time. Patrick checked the second baby’s vital signs and again was relieved that the delivery had no complications. It had progressed far better than Patrick had imagined.

With beads of perspiration now covering her entire body, Claudia looked over at her two sons and felt a love greater than she’d thought possible.

And a closeness to the man who had delivered them. He was like her knight in shining armour. And she would be indebted to him forever.

Quite apart from being an amazing doctor, Patrick was a wonderful man.

Through the fog of her emotionally drained state, Claudia suddenly suspected her feelings for Patrick ran deeper than simply gratitude for saving them all.

* * *

Patrick remained quiet. There were still two afterbirths and Claudia to consider. Despite the peaceful and contented look she wore, he knew they were not out of the woods yet.

Gently he placed the second baby next to his tiny brother and wrapped the shirt around them both before he carefully helped Claudia from her knees onto her back again. He grabbed her leather bag and made a makeshift pillow for her head. Claudia was past caring about the bag or her own comfort as she watched her tiny sons lying so close to her.

Patrick reached for them. ‘I’m going to rest the babies on you while we wait for the afterbirth.’

While the delivery had been relatively straightforward, Patrick was aware that Claudia’s double birth put her at increased risk of haemorrhage. Gently he placed the two tiny boys into their mother’s arms and he watched as her beautiful face lit up further as she cradled them. Her beauty seemed to be magnified with the boys now securely with her and, with her genes, they would no doubt be very handsome young men.

Within minutes, part of the placenta was delivered but as Patrick examined it he was concerned that it was not intact. Claudia would require a curette in hospital if the remaining placenta wasn’t expelled. But, that aside and despite the surroundings, Claudia had delivered two seemingly healthy boys. Patrick took a deep breath and filled his lungs as he looked at Claudia with a sense of pride for the strength shown by a woman he barely knew.

Then he noticed her face had become a little pale.

‘I sort of feel a little cold now,’ she said softly, as her body began to shiver. ‘It feels odd; I was so hot before. There’s no pain but...’

Patrick noticed her eyes were becoming glassy and she was losing her grip on the boys. There was something very wrong. Quickly he scooped them from her weakening hold and placed them together beside her, still wrapped in his shirt. He felt for her pulse. It was becoming fainter. He looked down to see blood pouring from Claudia and pooling on the jacket underneath her.

It was his worst nightmare—a postpartum haemorrhage.

Claudia had fifty percent more blood in her body because of the pregnancy, which would help, but, with the amount of blood she had already lost on the floor, it would still only buy them a small amount of time. He needed to encourage her uterus to contract, shutting off the open blood vessels. Immediately he began to massage her belly through to her uterus but after a minute he could see there was no difference. She was barely lucid and he needed to administer a synthetic form of the hormone that would naturally assist, but that was on the other side of the closed elevator doors with the paramedics. It wasn’t something he carried in his medical bag. Not now anyway. Once he would have had everything he now needed to save Claudia—but that was a lifetime ago.

‘Claudia—’ he ceased the massage momentarily and patted her hand ‘—I need you to try to feed one of the boys. It will help to stimulate a hormone that will lessen the bleeding. Do you understand?’

‘Uh-huh,’ she muttered while trying to keep her eyes from closing. ‘I feel so light-headed.’

‘That’s the blood loss. I’m going to do everything I can to stop it until help arrives, but again we need to work together. You’ll be on your way to hospital very soon.’

He reached down and gently unwrapped the babies and, picking up the larger of the twins, he lifted Claudia’s tank top and bra and placed him onto her breast. Instinctively the baby latched onto his mother and began to suckle while Patrick continued the massaging.

‘Do you have any names for the boys?’ he asked, trying to keep Claudia focused as he dealt with the medical emergency that was unfolding before his eyes.

She tried to think but the names weren’t there. They were special names and they should have spilled out without any effort but she was befuddled, which wasn’t her. ‘I think...’ She paused momentarily as the names she had chosen now seemed strangely out of reach. She blinked to bring herself back on track. ‘Thomas...and Luca...after each of their great-grandpas.’

‘I think they are strong names for two little fighters. Is this baby Thomas or Luca?’

Claudia smiled down at her son, still attached to her breast but not really sucking successfully. ‘Thomas...but I think he’s tired already and a bit too small.’

‘I think you’re right on both counts.’

‘I’m feeling quite dizzy again.’ She paused as she felt herself wavering and her vision was starting to blur. Fear was mounting again inside her. ‘Am I going to die?’

‘No, you’re going to pull through and raise your two sons until they are grown men.’

Claudia felt weaker by the minute. She knew there was something very serious happening, even though she couldn’t see the blood. ‘If I don’t make it...’

‘You will,’ he argued as he reached for Thomas, who was unable to suckle, and placed him safely on the floor beside his brother, Luca.

She closed her eyes for a moment. She felt too weak to fight. ‘You need to contact my sister, Harriet. Her details are in my phone. She needs to be there for my boys if I can’t be.’

‘Claudia, listen to me. You’re going to make it, but I’m going to have to do something very uncomfortable for you.’

‘What?’ she asked in a worried whisper.

‘I’m going to compress your uterus with my hands. It will further slow the bleeding.’

She nodded but she felt as if she was close to drifting off to sleep. ‘If you have to, then do it.’

‘Try to stay awake,’ he pleaded with her as he attempted to manually compress the uterus with the firm pressure of his hands.

Minutes passed but still the blood was flowing over his hands to the floor beneath her. Claudia needed to be in a hospital and she needed to be there now. This was something more serious than the usual postpartum blood loss.

She was dangerously close to losing consciousness as he gently removed his hands. The manual pressure could not stop the bleeding. Claudia needed surgical intervention if she was to survive. He reached for the films and ripped open the envelope. The films scattered on the floor but, as he grabbed the report, his worst fears were confirmed. Claudia’s placenta had invaded the walls of her uterus. Every part of his body shuddered. It was déjà vu. The prognosis was identical to what he had faced all those years ago. There was no way her obstetrician would have allowed her to board a plane with the condition. Claudia would have delivered her sons in America, whether it had been this day or another.

With a heavy heart, he dropped his gloves and the report to the floor and pulled a barely conscious Claudia into his arms, where he held her while he stroked the faces of the little boys lying on the floor beside them. If help didn’t arrive within a few minutes he would lose Claudia.

And her two tiny babies would never know their beautiful, brave mother.

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