Gold Coast Angels: Two Tiny Heartbeats

by McArthur, Fiona

  Of course, the young midwife seemed concerned, so that was a good reason, and she had made it difficult for him to refuse, he thought with an internal smile as he watched her reddish-brown ponytail swing in front of him.

  He was more used to deference and suggestion than downright direction, but this day had started unusually, and it seemed it was going to proceed that way.

  Ten minutes later Lucy stood beside the bed as she watched Dr Kefes and the respectful way he talked to Sally, and she could feel the ease of the tension in her own shoulders.

  Thankfully, he was totally opposite from the way the night midwife had been. This tall man with the accent seemed genuinely empathetic with the young mum’s concerns and symptoms. Even the tricky business of the physical examination was conducted with delicacy and tact.

  Afterwards Nikolai removed his gloves and washed his hands then came back to the bed, where Lucy had helped Sally to sit up more comfortably. The two young women watched his face anxiously.

  Dr Kefes smiled. ‘It seems your baby has decided to have a birthday today. You are more than half-dilated and we will let the special care nursery know to expect a new arrival.’

  Sally’s face whitened and the first real fear showed in her eyes. He sat down on Lucy’s stool and smiled gently at the young mum. ‘This is a shock to you?’

  Sally nodded but didn’t speak. Lucy could see her lip trembling and she reached across and put her hand out. To her relief Sally grabbed her fingers and clung on while the doctor addressed her fears.

  ‘You are in a safe place. Your baby is in a safe place. If you are worried, listen to your midwife.’ He gestured at Lucy. ‘This one, who was so determined I would see you first she practically dragged me in here before my round began.’

  He smiled at Lucy and she could feel her cheeks warm with embarrassment, and something else, like pleasure that this gorgeous man had complimented her on her advocacy. But the best result was that Sally smiled as well.

  He went on. ‘We will all work towards this being a very special day for you and your baby.’ He stood up. ‘Okay?’

  Sally nodded, and Lucy could tell she wasn’t the only person in the room who had decided Nikolai Kefes was a man to put your faith in.

  And Sally’s birthing was special. Her baby was born three hours later. Dr Kefes was gentle and patient, and Sally was focused and determined to remain in control.

  Lucy had borrowed the ward camera and captured some beautifully touching shots soon after the birth, because the neonatal staff were there for the baby, Dr Kefes managed the actual delivery, Flora May unobtrusively supervised, and she didn’t have much to do herself.

  The stylish bob of the neonatal specialist, Dr Callie Richards, swung as she paused and spoke to Sally while her staff wheeled tiny Zac out the door on the open crib towards the NICU. ‘I think he’ll be promoted to the special care nursery very quickly, but we’ll check him out first in the NICU.’

  Her eyes softened. ‘You come and visit him as soon as you’re up to it or I’ll come to see you if he misbehaves before then.’ Her gentle voice was warm and compassionate and Sally nodded mutely. Her eyes met Lucy’s as her baby was wheeled away.

  ‘He’ll be fine,’ Lucy whispered. ‘He looks little but very strong.’

  Sally sniffed and nodded and Lucy squeezed her hand. ‘Let’s get you sorted so you can go and see what he’s up to.’

  Afterwards, when Sally had showered and the two young women had had a chance to look at the photos, Lucy was very glad she’d taken them.

  The luminous joy on Sally’s face as she gazed at her tiny son—a close-up of a starfish hand, a tiny foot lying on his mother’s fingers, and one of him snuggled against his mother’s breasts before he’d been whisked away to the neonatal nursery, were all a comfort to a new mother whose baby had been taken for care somewhere else.

  Even on the poor-quality prints in black and white that Lucy printed out on the ward computer Sally looked a beautiful mum.

  As she waited in the wheelchair, Sally’s finger traced the distinguishing features of her tiny son’s face and body on the images.

  ‘I’m glad I had you looking after me.’

  Lucy squeezed Sally’s shoulder. ‘I’m glad I was here. Thank you for letting me share your birth.’

  Her first birth as a proper midwife had been as empowering for Sally as she could make it. And she could tell that the young mum was pretty chuffed at how she’d managed everything that had been asked of her.

  Lucy had never felt so proud of anyone as she was of Sally. She glanced around to see that they had collected everything from the room and pushed the chair forward. ‘We’ll drop this stuff in your room and then we’ll go and see this gorgeous son of yours.’

  Five hours later, at the end of the shift, a shift that had held her first prem birth, a quick catch of another impatient baby keen to arrive before the rest of the staff were ready, and a smile from a very senior obstetrician for a job well done, Lucy picked up her bag from the staffroom.

  She should be feeling ecstatic as she walked past the sluice room on the way out but, in fact, she felt dreadful.

  The nausea that had been building all day suddenly rushed up her throat in an imminent threat—so much so that she had to launch herself at the sluice-room sink in desperation.

  Nikolai, too, was on his way out the door when he saw the sudden acceleration of the new midwife who’d been so diligent today.

  He frowned as he realised the nature of her distress, and glanced hopefully left and right for someone else in scrubs, but saw nobody he could call on to assist her. He sighed, shrugged, and approached the doorway.

  ‘Are you okay?’ By the time he reached her it seemed it was over.

  Her forehead rested on the tips of the fingers of one hand as she rinsed the sink. The fragility of her pale neck made him reach for his handkerchief and he leaned past her and dampened it under the cold running water. He wrung it out before handing it to her to wipe her face.

  To his amusement she was so intent on patting her hot cheeks that she muttered thanks without turning. Later, perhaps it would be different, but at the moment it seemed she was just glad she’d made it to somewhere manageable.

  Then she glanced back and he saw her glance hesitantly past him and he wondered if she expected the whole staff to be lined outside, watching her.

  ‘Nobody else saw.’

  Her shoulders sank with relief and he bit back a smile. So transparent.

  ‘Thank goodness. It’s crazy.’ He could just catch the words because she seemed to be talking to his tie. ‘I’ve been feeling nauseated all day and it just caught up with me.’

  ‘Not pregnant, are you?’ He smiled, in no way expecting the startled look of shock that spread over her face as she glanced up at him. Oh, dear me, Nikolai thought, and couldn’t help flashing back to his sister all those years ago.

  No doubt it was that connection that caused his sudden surge of protective feeling towards this wilting poppy in front of him, but the sudden urge to hug her disconcerted him. He hadn’t wanted to drop a bombshell like that, neither had he had any intention of ruining her day, but it was far too late now. He resigned himself to waiting for her to gather herself.

  ‘I can’t be.’ But even in that tiny whisper Nick heard the thread of perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps?

  She lifted her gaze to his again and he could see the intriguing green flecks in the hugeness of her horrified hazel eyes.

  He’d put his foot in it, obviously. ‘So you haven’t tested for pregnancy?’

  ‘Hadn’t given it a thought,’ she mumbled, and blushed. ‘I didn’t consider that precautions might let me down during my first and only ever one-night stand. And that was ages ago.’ Her bitterness was unmistakable. She leant back over the sink to cover her face.

  Nick winc
ed at the vagaries of fate. Here was a woman anything but pleased by her fertility, while his sister would give anything to be able to fall pregnant again.

  He didn’t know how he could help, or even why he wanted to, but he couldn’t just leave.

  Maybe he was wrong. He knew nothing about her. ‘Perhaps you’re not pregnant. Could be gastro. Lack of food. You could try a pregnancy test. I have some in my rooms. Might even be negative.’

  She looked at him, he saw the brief flare of hope, and she nodded. ‘That seems sensible. Of course I’m not...’ She blushed, no doubt at the blurting out of the indiscreet information she’d given him. He’d have liked to have been able to reassure her he could forget her indiscretion—no problem—but he wasn’t sure how.

  She didn’t meet his eyes. ‘It could just be the excitement of the day. Would you mind?’

  ‘It’s the least I can do after scaring you like that.’ He smiled encouragingly and after a brief glance she smiled back tentatively. ‘Follow me.’

  He glanced sideways and realised she’d had to skip a little to keep up. He guessed he did take big steps compared to hers, and slowed his pace. ‘Sorry.’ He smiled down at her. ‘It’s been a busy day and I’m still hyped.’

  Lucy slowed with relief. She’d been hyped, too, until his random suggestion had blown her day out of the water.

  Neither of them commented as she followed him to the lift, luckily deserted, an ascent of two floors and then along the corridor to the consultant’s rooms. Lucy’s lips moved silently as she repeated over and over in her head, I am not pregnant, I am not pregnant!

  CHAPTER TWO

  TEN MINUTES LATER that theory crashed and burned.

  Lucy sank into the leather chair in Nikolai’s office with the glass of water he’d given her in hand and tried to think.

  She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. ‘I’m my mother all over again.’

  When she opened her eyes he was smiling gently. ‘All mothers are their mothers.’

  She sat up with a sigh. ‘Well, I really am mine. On the brink of a career I’ve worked so hard for and I’ve ruined my life.’ She could not believe this.

  ‘It’s been a shock. Can you remember when...?’ He paused delicately and Lucy felt her cheeks warm again. This just got worse and worse. ‘The night of our graduation.’ Her hand crept over her stomach. This could not be happening, but the tiny bulge of her belly, something she’d been lamenting over the last week and blamed on the huge box of rocky road chocolate she’d been given, suddenly took on an ominous relevance to her queasiness.

  How could she have been so stupid not to notice? She was a midwife, for pity’s sake! But she’d been so excited about her job, and the house-sitting opportunity that would allow her to save money. She’d always been someone who got car sick, plane sick, excitement sick, thanks to an anxiety to please she’d thought she’d beaten.

  It was a wonder she hadn’t been throwing up every morning if she was pregnant, the way her stomach usually reacted to change. ‘I can’t be pregnant. It must be something else.’

  He had such calm, sympathetic eyes. But she could tell he thought the test was valid. She guessed he had experience of this situation. Well, she didn’t.

  ‘Would you like me to run a quick ultrasound to confirm the test?’

  She wanted to say, no, that would be too real. She knew a little about ultrasounds in early pregnancy. She had seen obstetricians during her practical placements using the machines on the ward when women were bleeding.

  Find the sac. Foetal poles. Heartbeat if far enough along. She didn’t want to know how far she had to be along. Somewhere around fourteen weeks, seeing as that had been the only time she’d ever had sex. Did she want more proof?

  Maybe it was something else. Yeah, right. Fat chance. And she may as well face the reality until she decided what she was going to do and how she was going to manage this.

  He was asking again, ‘Would you like me to ask a nurse to come in? My receptionist has gone home. Just while we do this?’

  God, no. ‘No, thank you, if that’s okay. Please. I don’t want anyone to know.’ She covered her eyes. She didn’t want to know, but she couldn’t say that.

  ‘I understand.’ His voice was low, that trace of accent rough with sympathy, and she had the sense he really did understand a little how she was feeling.

  Maybe she was even glad he was there to be a stabiliser while she came to grips with this, except for the fact she’d have to see him almost every day at work, and he’d know her secret.

  ‘Just do it.’ Lucy climbed up onto the examination couch in his rooms, feeling ridiculous, scared and thoroughly embarrassed. Lucy closed her eyes and the mantra kept running through her head. This could not be happening.

  Nikolai switched on the little portable ultrasound machine he kept in the corner of his rooms. This must have been how his sister had felt when she’d found out the worst thing a sixteen-year-old Greek Orthodox girl could find out. He just hoped there was someone here for this young woman.

  He tried not to notice the unobtrusively crossed fingers she’d hidden down her sides as he tucked the towel across her upper abdomen to protect her purple scrubs from the gel. He didn’t like her chances of the test strip being disputed by ultrasound.

  He tucked another disposable sheet low in her abdomen, definitely in professional mode, and squirted the cool jelly across the not so tiny mound of her belly. She had silky, luminous skin and he tried not to notice.

  When he felt her wince under his fingers, he paused until he checked she was okay, and she nodded before he recommenced the slide of the ultrasound transducer sideways. He couldn’t help but admire the control she had under the circumstances. He wondered if Chloe had been this composed.

  He glanced from her to the screen and then everything else was excluded as he concentrated on the fascinating parallel universe of pelvic ultrasound.

  An eerie black-and-white zone of depth and shadings. Uterus. Zoom in. Foetal spine. So the foetus was mature enough for morphology. Foetal skull. Measure circumference. Crown-rump length. Placenta. Cord. Another cord?

  He blinked. ‘Just shutting the blinds so I can see better.’ He reached across to the wall behind her head and the remote-control curtains dulled the brightness of the Queensland sun. Zoomed in closer. Uh-oh.

  The room dimmed behind Lucy’s closed eyelids and then she heard it. The galloping hoofbeats of a tiny foetal heart. No other reason to have a galloping horse inside her belly except the cloppety-clop of a baby’s heartbeat.

  She was pregnant.

  It was true. She couldn’t open her eyes. Was terrified to confirm it with sight but her ears wouldn’t lie.

  She couldn’t cope with this. Give up her hard-won career just when it was starting. Throw away the last three years of intense study, all the after-hours work to pay for it, all her dreams of being the best midwife GCG had ever seen.

  Cloppety-clop, cloppety-clop. The heartbeat of her baby, growing inside her. Her child. Something shifted inside her.

  She had to look. She opened her eyes just as Dr Kefes sucked in his breath and she glanced at his face. She saw the frown as he swirled the transducer around and raised his eyebrows.

  What? ‘Has it got two heads?’ A flippant comment when she was feeling anything but flippant. Was her baby deformed? Funny how the last thing she wanted was to be pregnant but the barest hint of a problem with her tiny peanut and she was feeling...maternal?

  ‘Sort of.’ He clicked a snapshot with the machine and shifted the transducer. Clicked again.

  Her stomach dropped like a stone. There was something wrong with her baby?

  ‘What?’

  ‘Sorry. Not what I meant.’ He was looking at her with a mixture of concern and...it couldn’t be wonderment surely. ‘Congratulat
ions, Lucy.’

  That didn’t make sense. Neither did a second heartbeat, this one slower than the other but still a clopping sound that both of them recognised. ‘The measurements say you have two healthy fourteen-week foetuses.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ He had not just said that. ‘Two?’

  ‘Twins.’ He nodded to confirm his words. Held up two fingers in case she still didn’t get it.

  Lucy opened and shut her mouth before the words came out. ‘Twins? Fourteen weeks?’ Lucy squeaked, and then the world dimmed, only to return a little brighter and a whole lot louder than before—like a crash of cymbals beside her ear. She wasn’t just pregnant. She was seriously, seriously pregnant.

  She watched the screen zoom in and out in a haze of disbelief. Followed his finger as he pointed out legs and arms. And legs and arms. Two babies!

  ‘I don’t want twins. I don’t want one,’ she whispered, but even to her own ears there might be a question mark at the end of the sentence. She couldn’t really be considering what she thought she was considering.

  She thought briefly of Mark, her midwifery colleague already settled in Boston at his new job, a good-time guy with big plans. Their actions had been a silly impulse, regrettable but with no bad feelings, more a connection between two euphoric graduates than any kind of meeting of souls.

  They’d both been sheepish after the event. The whole ‘do you want coffee, can I use your bathroom’, morning-after conversation that had made it very clear neither had felt the earth move—friends who should never have been lovers.

  Dr Kefes broke into her thoughts and she blinked. ‘If you are going to think about your options you don’t have much time. In fact, you may not have any.’

  Think about what? Terminating her babies that she’d heard? Seen? Was now totally aware of? She didn’t know what she was going to do but she couldn’t do that.

  ‘Do they look healthy? Are they identical?’ From what she’d learned about twin pregnancies there’d be more risk with identical twins than fraternal and already that was a worry.