A Family Worth Waiting For: The Midwife's Miracle Baby

‘Call me Lex, please.’

‘So, you’re planning on having the baby here at St Jude’s,’ he said, flicking through the chart.

‘Yes, Dr Deane, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘Please, call me Campbell.’ He’d never been comfortable with the blind reverence afforded to doctors. His mother had always taught him that respect should be earned. He didn’t consider that what he did for a living automatically made him better than the next person. We’re all just cogs in a wheel, his mother, a midwife herself, insisted. Besides, his four sisters, three of them nurses and one a GP, were always ready to cut him down to size should he let his position go to his head.

‘I got a phone call last week from the receptionist at the birth centre—I’m in! I’m so excited.’ Her dark, wavy hair bounced as she laughed.

Campbell joined her, noting her glow of excitement. ‘Well, congratulations again.’

‘Thanks. I’ve really wanted to have my baby there ever since I heard about it.’

‘Oh, yes? And why’s that?’

‘Well, I’ve read so much about active birth and I really like the philosophy. I’ve bought and borrowed every book there is on the subject. The whole concept of a birth centre is fantastic. Kind of like a home birth but with medical back-up if you need it.’

‘I think we need to put you in charge of advertising.’ He laughed. ‘You sound like an ideal candidate. Have you thought about how you’re going to cope with the pain?’

‘I’d like the baby to be in the best possible shape when it arrives, so drug-free is my ultimate aim. I’ll try all the alternatives first. But I’m flexible. You hear enough horror labour stories to know it’s going to hurt.’

‘Good for you. I think flexibility is definitely the key.’

‘The receptionist said I needed to see you first and get a referral.’

‘That’s right, so let’s do it. Hop up on the examination bed over there.’ Campbell walked to the door and called to Andrea, who was sorting through a mountain of charts. ‘Andrea’s going to stay while I examine you. Blood pressure first.’

He pulled the cuff down from the wall and quickly took Lex’s BP. ‘Perfect,’ he said, smiling. Next he asked her to slip her skirt down slightly so he could feel her abdomen. ‘Sorry, cold hands,’ he apologised in advance. What was it with hospitals? The air-conditioning always seemed set at freezing.

Campbell shut his eyes as he gently probed Lex’s abdomen, feeling for her burgeoning uterus. He found the top and Andrea handed him a tape measure. He measured the distance from her pubic bone to the where his hand was. Twenty weeks exactly.

‘Would you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?’ he asked.

‘Of course,’ she said with a laugh.

Andrea gave him a hand-held Doppler. It was similar in appearance to a transistor radio. He squeezed a daub of gel on Lex’s abdomen and turned the machine on. He fiddled with the volume control and turned it down until the noise was less jarring. Manipulating the transducer through the gel, he quickly located the steady whop, whop, whop of the baby’s heart.

They were all silent as the noise filled the office. Campbell loved this part. The sounds of new life never ceased to amaze him. The miracle of it all. This was why he’d become an obstetrician. He grinned at Lex and saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

‘What a beautiful noise,’ he said.

‘One hundred and sixty-four,’ said Andrea, who had counted the beats.

‘Excellent,’ said Campbell, switching off the machine and wiping gel off Lex.

He left Andrea to help her straighten up, walking back to his desk to peruse her chart once more.

‘Swabs are negative. Blood tests unremarkable. Haemoglobin good. Any foetal movements yet?’

‘I’ve been feeling fluttering for a couple of weeks now.’

‘Good,’ he said, writing in the notes. ‘Any concerns?’

‘Nope.’ She shook her head.

‘All right, then. You can give the birth centre a ring and organise an appointment for four weeks.’

‘Oh, thank you so much, Dr Deane … I mean Campbell. You don’t know how much this means to me.’ She jumped up and shook his hand vigorously. ‘Actually, I think I’ll go up there now. I haven’t seen it yet and I can make my appointment while I’m there.’

‘Good idea,’ said Campbell, grateful for this golden opportunity. Look out, Claire West. Here I come. ‘I’ll walk you there,’ he offered.

Lex Craven’s excited chatter occupied most of Campbell’s attention on the short walk. As they alighted from the lift on the fifth floor, Campbell listened less, becoming tuned into his body’s anticipation. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest and echoing in his ears.

His stomach growled, reminding him that it was almost two o’clock and he hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Maybe he could persuade Claire to join him for some lunch? Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

He saw her the second he walked through the doors. She had her back to him, talking to a client, and he noticed the easy way she held her body when she didn’t know he was around. She was too erect and straight when she talked to him. Like she was afraid that if she relaxed, even for a nanosecond, she might get too close.

He loved how her white uniform fitted her perfectly. It accentuated her lushness, flattering her curves and emphasising her cute derrière. It was a stark contrast to her rich olive skin and her midnight-black bob. Just watching her now, his fingers itched to feel its silky weight.

She turned to usher her very pregnant client to the door and spotted him. He watched with dismay as her clear brown gaze became muddied with caution.

‘Campbell,’ she said. ‘This is a surprise.’

Obviously not a pleasant one, he thought. In fact, looking at her expression, he felt about as welcome as a venomous snake.

‘I’ve bought Lex Craven for a visit. I’ve just given her a referral.’

Claire had to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. He was here professionally. She’d been very busy in the last couple of weeks, which, while tiring, had been advantageous. She’d seen him rarely and when it hadn’t been avoidable, her excuses to take her leave had been completely genuine. No matter how brief their contact, she never felt in control of herself around him. He made her feel … clumsy. Claire was terrified of clumsy.

‘How wonderful to meet you,’ said Claire, greeting their latest client with delight, temporarily forgetting her Campbell-induced anxiety. ‘Go on in and make yourself a cuppa,’ she said, indicating the commonroom. ‘I just need to have a quick word with Campbell.’

Campbell raised his eyebrows as Lex disappeared into the room. She wanted to chat? Was that good?

‘Campbell, I’d like you to meet Shirley Miller, one of our clients.’

‘A pleasure.’ He smiled and shook her hand. He hadn’t met her yet so his registrar must have seen her.

‘Shirley’s thirty-three weeks and her baby has just decided to go breech.’

‘Bit of a swimmer, hey?’ he joked lightly, and Shirley laughed.

‘My other three have been breech until the last four weeks.’

Ah. Fourth child, he thought. That explained her very large tummy. He would have put her closer to term.

‘Could you feel the position properly?’

‘Pretty sure it’s lying frank,’ she said.

‘Well, you’ve got a few weeks yet for the baby to turn.’

‘Here’s hoping,’ said Shirley, and held up crossed fingers. ‘I so want to have the baby here.’

‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we get to it,’ he reassured her. ‘Did Claire give you some postures you can try at home to encourage the baby to turn?’

‘Sure did. I’m going home right now, before the kids get home, to try them out.’

She said her goodbyes and they watched her leave the premises.

‘She does understand she’ll have to deliver in the labour ward if the baby doesn’t turn?’

‘Of course, Campbell,’ Claire said testily, annoyed at her body’s response to his nearness. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t break any of your mates’ precious rules.’

‘No need to be so touchy,’ he teased, his green eyes sparkling. ‘I didn’t make the rules.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘You’re right. But one day, Campbell … one day I hope that we’ll be able to offer all kinds of births here.’

‘Amen to that,’ he said, hand on his heart.

‘Goodness, I can hear your cronies having apoplexy as we speak.’

He laughed heartily and his red-blonde hair flopped back. ‘C’mon, Claire. Even you’ve got to admit that breech presentation is potentially much more complicated.’

‘Potentially, sure. But you and I both know that Martin and his pals automatically think breech equals C-section.’

‘You think trial of labour first?’

‘Depends on the woman and the presenting part. There are too many variables. You can’t treat them all the same, as Martin and co do.’

‘They’re just scared, Claire. Haven’t you ever been scared?’

His question startled her. It was like he had seen right into her soul. Had she? About one thousand per cent more than anyone could know. She’d been scared for the last ten years.

‘We … we’re … not talking about me,’ she stuttered. His astuteness was unsettling.

‘Right.’ He grinned. ‘Shame … I’d much rather talk about you.’

‘Me?’

‘Us, actually.’ Campbell watched as fear and confusion reflected briefly in her eyes before she masked them behind a shutter of wariness.

‘Campbell.’ She rolled her eyes and took a step away from him. She couldn’t think when he was too close. ‘I thought you’d given up.’

‘Nope. Just haven’t been able to track you down much.’

He stared pointedly at her and Claire felt her face warm. He knew that she’d been avoiding him.

‘I’ve been very busy,’ she said, sounding lame even to her own ears.

‘Have you had lunch?’

‘No.’

‘Let me buy you some. I’m starving.’

‘I’ve brought mine,’ she replied stiffly.

‘OK. I’ll watch. I like to watch.’

Claire stared at him incredulously. Was he serious? His expression was far from it. He looked like raucous laughter was only seconds away. He was winding her up.

She rolled her eyes and smiled grudgingly. ‘I’m going to show Lex around.’

‘I’ll wait for you at your desk.’

‘Don’t bother. I’m never going to agree to go out with you.’

‘We’ll see. Never say never.’ He grinned and ducked away before she had a chance to protest.

Claire would have screamed out loud if it hadn’t been for Lex in the next room. She wanted to stomp her foot so badly, it itched. Suppressing her childish impulses, she went to join Lex.

She felt herself relax as she gave their new client the grand tour. She answered all Lex’s questions and then went back to her desk to make an appointment. She ignored Campbell, who was poking around the office.

‘I understand you’re offering antenatal classes?’ asked Lex.

‘That’s right. You start them at about twenty-eight weeks. They’ll run every Wednesday night for four weeks. Would you like me to book you in?’

‘Yes, please.’

Claire retrieved the booking diary from her desk drawer, ignoring a muscled thigh she could see in her peripheral vision as Campbell lounged against her desk. She pencilled Lex and her husband in to start in eight weeks’ time.

As Claire bade her goodbye, Campbell joined her. ‘See you in four weeks,’ said Claire.

‘Actually, I might see you tomorrow. I’ve got my ultrasound at ten.’

‘Oh, what a shame you didn’t get an appointment for today. Save you coming back again tomorrow.’

‘It was the only one available this week, otherwise it was a couple of weeks’ wait. Unfortunately Brian is away until next week so he’s going to miss out.’

‘Is someone coming with you?’ Claire asked, noticing her client’s disappointment.

‘I really don’t have anyone else. No family nearby and we’ve only just moved to Brisbane so I don’t really know anybody yet.’

Claire could feel Lex’s sense of isolation and sympathised with her. ‘Ten o’clock, you say?’ She consulted her appointment book. ‘I’m free then—would you like some company?’

‘Oh, yes, please!’ Lex’s sigh of relief was audible. ‘I really didn’t want to go by myself.’

‘I’ll meet you there at ten tomorrow.’

They watched her leave with a new spring in her step.

‘That was a really nice thing to do.’ Campbell’s low voice intruded into Claire’s thoughts.

He’d come closer again. There were only a few millimetres separating them now. Appreciation sparked in his eyes. Nothing sexual. Just recognition of another person’s kind heart.

He had the most expressive eyes Claire had ever seen. If he felt it or thought it, it was right there for the world to see. He’d obviously never had anything to hide. Claire envied him that.

‘Nonsense,’ she said, moving away. ‘Anyone would have done the same thing.’

‘No, Claire, they wouldn’t.’ His voice was serious.

‘Goodbye, Campbell.’

Claire turned on her heel and left him standing in the corridor. He smiled at her dismissal but wasn’t that easily perturbed. He followed her into the commonroom, catching up with her just as she had opened the fridge door and was rummaging around inside it. Her very appealing bottom was all he could see of her. He lounged in the doorway, allowing his male appreciation full rein. Soon enough she would dash it all with her shrewish tongue.

‘Alone at last,’ he said from the doorway.

Claire hit her head on a shelf and cursed under her breath. ‘Do you mind?’ she snapped. ‘I thought you’d gone. You scared the living daylights out of me.’ She rubbed her head.

‘Sorry,’ he said, trying to look suitably chastised.

Claire sat at the dining table, ignoring him. She opened her lunchbox as he pulled up a chair opposite.

‘Why don’t you date, Claire?’

So unexpected was his question that Claire nearly choked on the carrot stick she’d been eating. She coughed and spluttered and Campbell poured her a drink of water from the glass pitcher sitting in the middle of the table.

‘Thank you,’ she said in a raspy voice, taking a gulp of water. ‘Is it so hard to believe that some women don’t want to be in a relationship?’

‘No, not at all.’

‘Well, then, I guess I’m one of them.’

‘There’s a difference between not wanting to and choosing not to, Claire.’

‘Oh, yeah? How?’

‘Well, not wanting to indicates lack of interest. Choosing not to is a conscious decision that never allows for the possibility of something happening. It’s choosing with your head.’

‘Oh, I get it. You think I should choose with my heart.’ Sarcasm laced her voice.

‘I think you should listen to your heart. Don’t just ignore it because you decided once upon a time that you weren’t going to date.’

‘And if I did listen to my heart? What makes you think it’d lead me to you?’

‘Ah, that’s easy.’ He grinned a cheeky, schoolboy grin. ‘I’m irresistible.’

‘Oh, really.’

‘Just ask my mum.’

‘Oh, I’m sure to get an unbiased opinion there,’ she said sarcastically.

‘Hmm, you’re right,’ he mused thoughtfully, stealing a carrot stick from Claire’s lunchbox. ‘On second thoughts, ask my sisters. They have absolutely no illusions about me and they still think I’m irresistible.’

Campbell grinned again and stole a cherry tomato this time.

‘Hey,’ she protested feebly, growing weaker at the intimacy of him helping himself to her lunch.

‘I’m starving,’ he cajoled, and closed his eyes and sighed rapturously as he bit into the ripe, red flesh. ‘Hmm. This tomato is delicious. So flavoursome.’

‘My father grows them,’ she said, distracted by his moan of enjoyment and the slow trickle of juice leaving the corner of his mouth.

Campbell opened his eyes and caught Claire staring. She was watching his chin where he could feel some juice trekking slowly downwards. Her stare was so intense and hungry he couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d reached over and unzipped his fly. In fact, she might as well have, from the way his body was reacting.

‘Claire, if you’re trying to convince me that you don’t want me, staring at me like that isn’t the way to go about it.’

His words registered on a superficial level only. They didn’t penetrate her intense concentration. She knew she shouldn’t be looking but the juice drew her gaze like a moth to flame.

‘Claire,’ he whispered hoarsely.

It was a ragged, desperate sound that succeeded where his words hadn’t. She gasped slightly, dragging her eyes away, shocked at her behaviour. It was practically X-rated. Her hand trembled as she passed him a paper napkin and tried to deny how bereft she felt that he was the one wiping the errant juice away and not her.

Oh, God, get a grip. What was the matter with her? Why did this man get to her so much?

‘Is it because of him?’

‘Him who?’ she asked, wary again.

‘The man you dated years ago who broke your heart. Or so the story goes.’

‘Been snooping, Campbell?’

‘No, not at all. It’s amazing the stuff people will tell you.’

‘Mind your own business,’ she snapped, rising to wash her dishes at the sink.

‘Oh, come on, Claire,’ he persisted. ‘If I’m paying the price for his sins, surely I deserve to know why.’

‘Campbell!’ She let her exasperation show.

‘OK. I’ll leave you be if you tell me.’

‘Yeah, right.’

‘I promise. Cross my heart.’

She turned to assess the honesty of his statement. He looked sincere and … it was way too good a deal to pass up. His relentless pursuit was annoying. Really, it was. And pointless. And as difficult as she found even breathing when he was near, she couldn’t be with him. They had no future.

‘All right.’ Her shoulders sagged and she came back and sat at the table. ‘We were young. No, correction, I was young. A third-year student nurse. Shane was a resident. We were in love, or at least … I was in love with him. He said he wanted to marry me and then some … stuff happened to do with my family and he … he dumped me.’

Campbell sat in silence as she laid out the bones of something that had obviously been such a big part of her life. Her complete lack of emotion as she gave just the facts spoke volumes about her hurt.

‘How old were you?’

‘Twenty.’

Campbell covered her hands with his. ‘What stuff?’

‘It doesn’t matter now,’ she said quietly, and removed her hands. She wasn’t going to tell a virtual stranger things that even now were too painful to think about.

‘Shane was a fool.’ Campbell’s voice held an edge of contempt.

She met his gaze and read the compassion in his emerald depths. Easy to say when he didn’t know the half of it.

‘No. It hurt for a long time but I think I’d have done the same thing if our situations had been reversed.’

It had been a traumatic chapter in her life. Her mother being diagnosed with Huntington’s disease had been a gut-wrenching time. Not to mention the real possibility that the disease could have been inherited by herself. The last thing she had needed had been her finance deserting her in her hour of need. But he had.

It’d taken the better part of a year to get over Shane’s betrayal. But with the passing of time, Claire had been able to see his side. It had been a tough call for someone in their prime, like Shane, to confront the possibility of his fiancée falling prey to a debilitating genetic illness. The hurt had dissipated but the determination not to make the same mistake with someone else lingered.

‘I don’t care what it was. If he’d really loved you, he’d have stayed.’

Claire shook her head sadly. Some things were too big, too awful to deal with. She knew that too well. ‘You, Dr Deane,’ she said, injecting a light teasing quality into her voice, ‘are a romantic.’

‘Guilty as charged,’ he grinned. ‘So, how about tonight?’

‘Campbell! You promised.’

‘Sorry, I lied. I had my fingers crossed behind my back.’

‘You tricked me.’ She glowered and marched back to the sink.

‘You can’t give up on men because of one stupid guy. I won’t let you. It’s not fair to compare me to him. Give me a chance, I’ll prove to you that we’re not all the same.’

‘Campbell,’ she sighed, turning to face him, ‘it’s not just about Shane. There are other reasons …’ Big reasons. ‘He just helped to put everything into perspective.’

‘I’m never going to give up, Claire. You may as well surrender now.’

‘I’ve been pursued by some determined men, Campbell. I’ve never surrendered.’

‘Honey, trust me. I bring new meaning to determined.’

‘Well, bring it on, honey. But be prepared to lose.’

The instant her challenge was out Claire wished she could retract it. Damn him. Damn him for goading her into throwing down the gauntlet.

Campbell grinned. He felt an energy zinging through his body and revelled in how good and alive it made him feel. She made him feel. His pager beeped and he checked the message. ‘Labour Ward. One of my ladies is in. I asked them to page me when she was ready to deliver.’

He walked slowly towards her as he talked, stopping a hand’s length away. His gaze captured hers for a long moment.

‘I’ll be seeing you,’ he said quietly, and walked away.

* * *

As it turned out, Claire reluctantly made her way to his office a few hours later with a document that required his signature urgently so she could send it off with the last courier run. Martin had been on the phone to her, harassing her about how important it was to have the document on the Minister’s desk by close of business.

Internal mail would have been way too slow and the document too urgent and sensitive to trust to this not always reliable service.

Although Claire had resigned herself to doing the job personally, she approached Campbell’s office with a great deal of trepidation, the subtle challenge in his last words resonating in her head.

His door was closed and her hand shook as she knocked softly. Claire found herself wishing he’d left for the day, despite Martin’s dire warnings, but his command to enter dashed the fantasy.

‘Oh … sorry,’ said Claire, taking in the two people sitting on the other side of Campbell’s desk. ‘I didn’t realise you had clients …’

‘Claire.’ Campbell half stood, pleasure and surprise registering on his face. ‘Come in.’

‘No. It’s OK. I’ll come back.’

‘No. Don’t go. Stay. Actually, you’ve probably got some advice for Kay and Col.’ He pulled up a chair next to the couple and she reluctantly sat down as he introduced her. ‘Kay’s pregnant with her second baby. They have a little boy who’s three and has cystic fibrosis.’

Claire was pleased now for the seat. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He wanted her to give advice on a genetic illness? He didn’t know it, but he couldn’t have picked a better person!

Claire’s heart went out to the young couple. What terrible things they must have faced over the last three years, and now to have to confront the possibility of their new baby inheriting CF as well.

Every cell in her body rebelled at being part of this conversation. She wanted to get up and run. It was just way too close to home. She felt her heart beating painfully in her chest and was surprised they couldn’t hear it in the room.

‘Now … where were we?’ He turned back to his clients. ‘Oh, yes, the options. Well, you’re only eight weeks so we can still investigate the baby’s CF status with a special test called chorionic villi sampling. I can make an appointment for you right now,’ he said, picking up the phone.

‘Actually, no, Campbell, that won’t be necessary,’ said Col. ‘We’ve talked about it and we’ve decided not to do that.’

‘Ah … OK. Can I ask why?’

‘We’ve had all the genetic counselling. We know we have a one in four chance of this baby inheriting CF, and we’re OK with that. Obviously we don’t wish it for our baby but if it happens, we’ll deal with it.’