Caroline Anderson - An Unexpected Bonus

It all looked very straightforward, and after the cord stopped pulsing she clamped and cut it. Wrapping the baby in another towel from the drawer, she handed him to Ed. ‘Hold this,’ she ordered.

‘This,’ he said softly. ‘Is that any way to speak to you, son?’ he murmured and, taking the corner of the towel, he gently wiped the baby’s face.

Jo dragged her eyes away from him and tried to concentrate on the patient and her needs. She was propped on the pile of hastily assembled cushions, and she looked thoroughly uncomfortable on the hard tabletop.

‘I’d like to move you to somewhere more comfy,’ she was saying, when the back door burst open and Tim erupted into the room, his eyes wild.

‘Ah, Julie, love, you could have waited for me!’ he said with a laugh, and hugged his wife.

‘It’s a boy,’ she told him, and he closed his eyes and hugged her again.

‘Everything all right?’

‘Think so,’ Jo told him. ‘We haven’t really had time to check—he’s only just been born a few minutes.’

‘You check Mum, I’ll check the baby,’ Ed said, and she was suddenly reminded that he was a fellow-professional and not just someone she’d dragged along for the ride. She wondered how badly she’d ordered him around, but couldn’t remember.

Too bad. The baby was the first priority, and it was her delivery anyway. ‘Do you want to wait for the placenta, or shall I give you an injection?’ she asked Julie, knowing full well what the answer would be.

‘I’ll wait—I can feel a contraction now, I think.’

Jo laid a hand on Julie’s soft abdomen and pressed down, and she could feel the uterus working. ‘Yes, you’re right. We’ll wait. Are you OK there?’

‘I’ll manage.’

It didn’t take long. She popped the afterbirth into one of the bowls and checked it quickly, filled the other with hot water to wash the mother down, examined Julie for any little nicks or tears and declared her to be fine.

‘Baby, too. He’s got good lungs,’ Ed said ruefully, pulling the earpieces of the stethoscope out of his ears so the bellowing didn’t damage his hearing permanently. ‘I’ll check his heart later when he’s quiet but, judging by his colour, I can’t imagine he’s got a problem.’

‘No. He’s a lusty little chap,’ Jo said, giving him her attention for the first time. She looked at the placenta more thoroughly, lifting up the membranes and checking for any abnormalities, then put it into a yellow clinical waste bag, sealed it and put it inside another one.

‘Want to weigh him?’ Ed asked.

‘Not yet. I want to clear up a little first and then get Julie upstairs. You feeling strong, Tim?’ she asked, bagging up the rest of the clinical waste and popping a pad between Julie’s legs.

He grinned and scooped his wife up in his arms, carrying her up to their bedroom with the others trailing behind. ‘Fancy having him in the kitchen,’ Tim said affectionately as he set her down. ‘You spend your life at that damn table—I might have known you’d have the baby on it!’

‘It’ll be something to tell the grandchildren when they come over for Sunday lunch,’ Julie said with a chuckle.

‘Hmm. Eating off the same table, I have no doubt.’ Jo laughed. ‘Right, we need to undress you and freshen you up, feed the baby, and then after your bath I think you’ll need a rest—I should think you’re exhausted after such a hard labour,’ she said with a smile.

‘Oh, yes—all of about an hour from the first twinge.’

‘You should have rung me on the mobile,’ Tim scolded.

‘I did—you left it switched off,’ Julie pointed out.

‘Now, now, children, don’t fight,’ Jo said. She sent Tim off to clear up the devastation in the kitchen and make everyone a cup of tea while she helped Julie out of her clothes and into a dressing-gown.

Once Julie was undressed she was able to feed the baby, and Jo felt the usual surge of satisfaction as she watched the little baby suckle from his mother. He was the third of their children that she’d delivered or monitored in pregnancy, and it was gratifying to have been involved in the arrival of the whole family.

She looked up at Ed, wondering what he was making of all of this, and surprised a look of sadness and longing on his face again. How strange. He was so good with children—had he lost one? Was that it?

He looked up and caught her eye. His expression became immediately neutral, as if he’d carefully schooled his face to remove the traces of emotion.

‘Teatime,’ Tim said cheerfully, pushing the door open with his foot and carrying in a tray.

Ed stood up. ‘Not for me, thanks. Things seem fine. I think I’ll go for a wander—have a look round outside. I’m still feeling a bit green after the white-knuckle ride—Jo doesn’t exactly hang about. I’ll be back in a while.’

His smile was a little strained. Jo sipped her tea and wondered what had put that look on his face and made him want to run away—because that was what he was doing, she was sure. She didn’t believe he was still feeling queasy for a moment.

The baby dozed off, and Julie put her cup down and smiled wearily at Jo. ‘I could murder that bath now.’

‘Good idea. I’ll run it, you stay there.’

It wasn’t too hot because of the baby, but she made it nice and deep because there was nothing like a good wallow after delivery. Then she helped Julie into the bath, before unwrapping the baby that Tim was holding and lowering him carefully into the water between Julie’s knees.

He woke up a little, blinking in the light and gazing up with those wonderful blue eyes of the newborn, and Julie helped her wash his soft, delicate skin with careful hands.

‘He seems so tiny—you forget,’ Julie said, her voice hushed and full of awe, and Jo looked at him and remembered Laura.

‘You’re right—you do forget. I can’t believe Laura was ever this small.’

‘No. She certainly doesn’t look it now. She’s so tall, isn’t she? How old is she?’

‘Twelve. She takes after me and my mother—we’re both quite tall.’

Jo scooped the baby out of the water and wrapped him in a towel off the radiator, then sprinkled a few drops of lavender and tea-tree oil into the bath and topped up the hot water. Julie sank down for a good wallow and sighed with ecstasy.

‘I can’t believe she’s twelve,’ she said after a moment, sounding stunned. ‘Almost a teenager. I can remember when she was born. I don’t know how you cope alone.’

‘I’ve got Mum. I couldn’t work and look after her without my mother’s help.’

Julie laughed. ‘No, mums are wonderful. I’d be lost without mine during lambing and harvesting.’

Jo took the baby across the landing to the bedroom, leaving the doors open, and took the little spring balance out of the box Tim had brought upstairs. She hooked the nylon sling underneath it, popped the baby naked into the sling and held up the balance.

‘Three point seven kilos—eight pounds three ounces,’ she told the mother. ‘How does that compare?’

‘Heavier than Lucy, about the same as Robert.’

‘What are you calling this one? Does he have a name?’

Tim came upstairs again and into the room. ‘Michael, we’d thought.’

‘Or Anna,’ Julie said from the depths of her bath. ‘I think Michael’s more appropriate. I could kill another cup of tea.’

Tim went through to the bathroom, mug in hand. ‘How did I guess?’ he said, a smile in his voice, and for the millionth time Jo wondered what it would have been like to have a father for her daughter, a man who loved and cherished her and was committed to her, instead of—

She cut off the train of thought and concentrated on the baby. He was gorgeous, a lovely sturdy little chap with everything going for him. She put a nappy on him before he could catch her out, popped him into a vest and sleepsuit and tucked him up in the crib that was standing ready in the corner.