The Pregnant Midwife

by Fiona McArthur

  Finally the morning dawned for Kirsten’s return to Sydney and suddenly she didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to know the answers to the questions she’d been asking herself since the crash.

  The nausea hit her as she made to rise and she lay back down in bed and stared at the ceiling. As she turned over in bed the tenderness in her breasts made sudden sense and she sat up slowly as everything clicked into place. She never had taken the morning-after pill. Hunter had good reason not to trust her.

  Despite the implications she couldn’t help the sunbeam of joy that lit her face. Unless she was mistaken, she was carrying Hunter’s child and she was fiercely glad.

  It was only just daylight and Kirsten rose slowly to slip downstairs to the miniature surgery that Rohan kept for emergencies. Sure enough, at the back of the cupboard she found a pregnancy kit and she slid it into her pocket and climbed back upstairs.

  Five minutes later she stared at the distinctive two lines on the test. She was pregnant. She leaned back against the bathroom sink, suddenly faint. The nausea rushed up her throat and she swayed over the toilet. Afterwards, as she washed her face, the question rolled over in her mind like a child’s toy. What would Hunter say?

  Already Hunter found it difficult to trust her or believe in her, so what would he say about this? She’d told him not to worry and, judging by his lack of communication, he hadn’t, she thought with a twist of bitterness.

  Suddenly the risks she’d so blithely decided were worth extra heartache were even greater because any relationship with Hunter was no longer just about the two of them. If Hunter couldn’t trust her—was too afraid to commit for life to the woman he loved—then their child should never know this. She was no longer the only person taking a risk with Hunter. She risked her child’s happiness, too. The stakes were too high to not count the consequences.

  At the airport, Kirsten was distracted by the enormity of her discovery and her sudden trepidation at seeing Hunter again.

  Abbey watched her sister with some concern, guessing what was on her mind. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked quietly, and shifted closer, protectively, along the bench.

  The news was so recent, so fragile, and Kirsten didn’t know whether to tell Abbey or not. Almost as if she’d done something wrong and her pregnancy was her punishment. But she’d done nothing wrong. Just loved a man with all her heart. She knew this was right. She wasn’t ready to tell Hunter but Abbey would be a good place to start. Kirsten tested the words in her mind and then took a deep breath. ‘I’m pregnant. And I can’t believe I’m so happy about it.’ Kirsten watched her sister’s face anxiously.

  Abbey nodded, remarkably unperturbed, and leaned across to hug her. ‘If you’re happy then we’re happy for you. What will Hunter say?’

  Kirsten met Abbey’s eyes. ‘I love the way you know it’s Hunter’s baby.’ She went on. ‘I’m not sure I’m going to tell him. There was only the once and I was supposed to take the morning-after pill but I really didn’t want to. There was something that smacked of regret if I did and I don’t regret what we shared.’

  She narrowed her eyes with determination and Abbey was reminded of the strong-willed teenager that Kirsten had been. She shook here head and sat back to listen.

  ‘I was too sick to fight myself for feeling that way and now I’m glad. Does that make me deceitful?’

  ‘It makes you a mother,’ Abbey said dryly, and hugged her again. ‘It won’t be easy if you have to be a single parent, but remember we’re all here for you.’ She smiled. ‘Hunter might surprise you. I hope he does.’ She glanced down at her sister’s flat stomach. ‘And you’ll have a job in Gladstone when you start to show if you decide not to tell him. In fact, tell me the whole story from the beginning because all I know is you knew him in Dubai, slept together after a helicopter crash and now you’re pregnant by him.’

  Kirsten leaned her head on Abbey’s shoulder. ‘There’s no more to tell.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Hunter is divorced. His parents were divorced.’ Kirsten sighed and gave the abridged version. ‘His wife ran off with the senior consultant five years ago and he doesn’t trust women.’

  ‘He can trust you.’

  ‘That’s just it. I don’t think he can trust anyone. We spent a lot of time together for about eight weeks in Dubai and we became close.’

  ‘I see,’ said Abbey, and Kirsten shook her head.

  ‘Not that close—it was almost as if he didn’t want sex to cloud the issue.’

  ‘Anyway, he got it into his head I was having an affair with a married man and the man’s wife didn’t help with her lies. And that was the end of it. He tarred and feathered me in his mind. People shouldn’t believe that of those they get close to.’

  Abbey frowned. ‘Of course you told him it wasn’t true?’

  Kirsten felt like hugging her sister. Abbey didn’t even entertain for a moment the possibility that her sister would have had a liaison with a married man. It was a shame Hunter couldn’t have that sort of faith. ‘He didn’t believe me!’

  Abbey shook her head, confused. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t think he’s used to people being open with their emotions. He saw me hug the guy and put that with the poison from the wife who had another agenda, and that was that.’

  The airport loudspeaker crackled to life and the call to board the aircraft made them both look across the tarmac.

  ‘Ring me,’ Abbey said, and kissed Kirsten one more time. ‘Think about telling him. If you love him—be honest with him.’ She shrugged. ‘Then it’s up to him to be honest back. Your child deserves honesty.’

  Abbey could see the shine of tears in Kirsten’s eyes and she bit her lip to hold her own back.

  ‘I hear you, big sister.’ Kirsten said. She blew a kiss and picked up her bag, and Abbey watched her walk away.

  When Maggie met her at Sydney airport, Kirsten stifled the tiny flicker of disappointment that Hunter hadn’t even cared enough to meet her after three weeks. But that was what she’d been afraid of.

  She tried to infuse enthusiasm into her voice. ‘Hi, Maggie. What a great surprise! I thought I’d have to catch a taxi home.’

  Maggie looked horrified. ‘Oh, we couldn’t let you do that.’ She hugged Kirsten fiercely. ‘We were all so terrified when they couldn’t find you all that first day. Welcome back. We’ve missed you.’ She took Kirsten’s hands and turned them over, tutting over the dark pink scars of healing. ‘Your poor hands.’

  Kirsten caught Maggie’s fingers in hers and squeezed them to prove her point. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Hunter was planning to be here but there’s an emergency on in the NICU.’ Maggie’s words made a blush steal up Kirsten’s cheeks and she hugged the crumb of hope to herself. Luckily Maggie was steering them both towards her car as she spoke and she didn’t notice Kirsten’s silence.

  Kirsten knew she’d have to bump up her immunity to the mention and sight of Hunter over the next few weeks or everyone would be consoling her on her unrequited love for the man. She would be no object of pity. She’d fight for love but she wouldn’t lie down for it. The thought hardened her resolve. ‘How’s Keith?’

  ‘He’s doing well. Back home to convalesce and driving his wife insane.’

  Kirsten forced a laugh and they discussed the workload at MIRA as Maggie drove to Kirsten’s flat.

  Maternal Maggie patted her knee. ‘Take it easy for the rest of the day.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. I’ve been lying around for three weeks.’

  Maggie looked sideways at her. ‘I hope you realise that you and Hunter are celebrities over at the hospital.’

  Kirsten shuddered at the thought and climbed out of the car. ‘I hope not.’ She waved Maggie off. She’d changed, the pregnancy had changed her, and suddenly she didn’t want the limelight. That was the last thing she needed while she coped with the idea of a baby—to have her and Hunter under the microscope of the public eye—especially when it was all one-sided. Limel
ight was for fun and Kirsten had finally embraced maturity. She was going to be a mother.

  At the same time, Hunter stood back from the crib in NICU and watched with satisfaction as baby Kinny’s respirations slowly return to normal. He turned away to wash his hands. Hopefully, Kinny would be fine without him now that they’d treated the pneumonia with antibiotics and reinflated her lung. He glanced at the clock and realised Kirsten had landed half an hour ago. She’d be almost home by now. He resisted the urge to go outside and phone her, just as he’d been resisting for the last week. He didn’t know what he would do if she regretted the time in the cave. He planned to see her tonight, before MIRA tomorrow, if Kinny would stay well enough to let him.

  He wondered how Kirsten was coping. People had asked him about flashbacks from the crash but his most vivid memories all involved Kirsten—when he’d thought he’d lost her in the crash and then later in the cave when he’d thought his life had ended because he hadn’t been able to see how he could get her out. When she’d collapsed at the tunnel entrance as cold as ice, he’d never been so frightened. But most frequently he relived when he’d held her chilled body against his own until she’d warmed and that magic time when he’d lost himself in her.

  That had been when he’d conquered his fear to love Kirsten, along with the ridiculous phobia that he still cringed about. She was the only one who could have saved him and she’d never leave him in darkness again. His journey over the last three weeks had shown him how ridiculous his lack of trust had been. No matter what she’d done, Kirsten was nothing like Portia or his mother. She was Kirsten and he trusted her completely—he just hoped she believed him and could forgive him for all the time he’d wasted. He would understand if she was reluctant to believe he’d changed, but he’d never shut her out again. She had to believe that he wouldn’t.

  Back in the present, he moved over to the desk to write up the infant’s medical notes and prayed that Kinny wouldn’t have a relapse. That proved to be wishful thinking and he didn’t make it to Kirsten’s that night—he barely made it to bed before his MIRA shift the next morning.

  CHAPTER NINE

  KIRSTEN arrived at MIRA half an hour early on Monday morning. She wanted to be well clear of the locker room when Hunter came in because she still didn’t know what to expect when she saw him. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t come to see her last night.

  The extra time would also allow her to concentrate on the thought of flying again. There was extra caution to be taken because of her pregnancy, but the flying itself wouldn’t harm her baby, although her days of heedless adventures were over.

  Kirsten breathed a sigh of relief as she slipped past the door to the stairs undetected. Both nursing teams from the night shift were involved in a noisy discussion in the kitchen and were oblivious to her arrival.

  The breeze was cool when she stepped out onto the roof. The sun was struggling to rise above the horizon of tall buildings and the waiting aircraft was in shadow. Her heart rate picked up a little but there was no dread as she walked towards the closed doors of the helicopter.

  She peered through the glass and then circled the aircraft, and she saw that it was a new version of the one that had been destroyed in the crash. The thought didn’t frighten her. It was good to be back. She heaved a sigh of relief, lifted her head and turned for the stairs.

  Her pulse rate jumped again. Hunter was watching her, unsmiling, from the doorway. He looked so tall and handsome in the first rays of sunlight that her heart squeezed as the memories of the last time she’d seen him flooded back. She savoured the sight of him because she’d spent so many hours imagining this meeting that she allowed her feelings to overwhelm her briefly.

  For Hunter it was a defining moment. He’d watched Kirsten approach the aircraft warily and he’d thought his heart might explode with pride at her courage. Her sisters had done a good job. She looked a little thinner than he remembered but her eyes were alive with eagerness to start the new day.

  And here she was coming across the roof with her hands held out to hold his, no trace of the aversion he was sure she must hold for him.

  He bent down and kissed her cheek and suddenly they were back at the cave. ‘How are you? How are your poor hands?’ he said.

  Never could he have imagined the tenderness that welled up inside him now that he allowed himself to touch her. He wanted to kiss each damaged finger and hug her against him and never let her go. The feeling terrified him.

  He stared into her face and she looked up at him. But now there was wariness in her greeting. She had the right to be wary.

  ‘Thank you for saving my life in the cave,’ she said quietly, and he returned with a thump to a rooftop in Western Sydney.

  ‘Thank you for saving mine,’ he quipped, and inwardly cringed at the embarrassment of his claustrophobia. Neither of them mentioned the time that was uppermost in their minds.

  They both looked away and the mood was gone. She’d erected a barrier and for the moment he wasn’t sorry. Soon he would declare himself but not quite yet. Everything was worth waiting for. He fell into step beside her as she walked back towards the steps.

  ‘How are you?’ He thought she looked gorgeous but she seemed a little quieter than her usual self. ‘Your sister said you’ve had a rotten cold.’

  She didn’t smile. ‘I’m fine. Thank you for the flowers.’ She went ahead of him down the stairs and he watched her shoulders as she descended. She had such strength beneath those fragile bones. When she opened the door below, the night staff spotted her and crowded around to make a fuss. He eased his way over to the lounge and sat back. As he watched, he realised she was not enjoying the attention and he wondered at the change. There was something missing—maybe a tinge of the exuberance he’d always associated with Kirsten. But, then, why wouldn’t there be? She was entitled to a full-scale breakdown after the crash and he wondered if she’d come back to work too soon.

  He’d needed to come back to work. After visiting his father and Portia, he’d come back to crowd out his initial desire to grab Kirsten, take her somewhere private and force her to love him. Not fair after the unreal situation they’d found themselves in. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t prey on her fragility after the crash. When he next held Kirsten in his arms, it would be with all the trimmings.

  Sitting at home, rehashing that magic time in the cave, he’d accepted he’d have to conquer his petty jealousy and insecurity if there was to be any future for them. He’d done more hours in NICU in the last fortnight than he’d done for a long time as he’d waited impatiently for her to mend.

  The MIRA phone rang and Kirsten was in the kitchen with the other team. Glad of the distraction from his thoughts, he snatched the receiver up and took the call. She was right behind him as they wheeled the equipment to the aircraft and he watched her carefully as she strapped herself in as if it was just another day. He remembered how he’d been so careful to project the same image as Kirsten on his own return to MIRA. She didn’t need him to draw attention to it.

  Work smoothed over any awkwardness. The morning started with a six-year-old boy with burns needing specialised helicopter transport from Nepean and then a fixed-wing flight from Wagga Wagga for a two-year-old with epiglottitis. Both cases required intensive concentration and by the end of the second case Kirsten and Hunter were back in professional mode. Something they’d gained their share of experience with.

  They had time for a late lunch back at headquarters before being called out for the retrieval of a newborn baby with previously undiagnosed gastroschisis.

  For Kirsten, this was a first. She’d never seen a case of gastroschisis—or opening in the abdominal wall near the umbilicus—meaning the bowel protruded outside the infant’s body. She found it hard to look away.

  Kirsten’s compassion was fully aroused for baby Zane Cook and his mother, and she guessed some of her empathy was because of her own newly pregnant condition. Zane’s graphic presentation made her realise how devastat
ed she would feel if her and Hunter’s baby was born with a blatant defect like Zane’s.

  Her quick glance at Hunter made him raise his eyebrows as if to say, what? She shook her head and looked away at Zane’s parents who were staring across the room at their son in horrified fascination. The membranous mass of bowel that lay on top of their baby’s stomach was so unexpected, so bizarre, that Kirsten silently agreed it must be a shock.

  Hunter promised to keep the parents updated, and he and Kirsten moved quickly into action beside the local doctor.

  ‘Are you OK?’ He barely moved his lips as they crossed the room but his concern was genuine.

  ‘Fine.’ Kirsten didn’t look at him and they both plastered on smiles as they approached the local doctor.

  ‘You’ve done a great job, the way you’ve wrapped the baby’s abdomen in clingwrap,’ Hunter said approvingly, and Dr Shaney, the hospital doctor, nodded, relieved that help had arrived.

  ‘The last one of these I saw, we were still wrapping in moist packs, but your clinical co-ordinator said to use the clear sandwich wrap.’ The men watched as Kirsten took the baby’s temperature and blood pressure.

  Hunter lifted Zane’s little arm and stroked the skin to find a vein. ‘They found the problem with the packs over the bowel was that they cooled too rapidly.’ Hunter checked Zane’s other arm for prominent blood vessels. ‘And the babies become cold, which is a huge problem with these kids. We have to keep them warm.’

  He shook his head. ‘I saw a bowel wrapped in cotton wool once and it was hell trying to get the stuff off the membrane later. Any bits missed can cause peritoneal granulomas.’

  Dr Shaney nodded and Kirsten slid the prep swab and cannula in beside Hunter’s hand before he could ask for it. She taped the tiny splint in place as soon as he’d secured the line.