Wishing for a Miracle

by Alison Roberts

  Not much worse that Mac could remember. The flight was rough. Ten minutes into it and he wasn’t surprised Julia was looking pale.

  ‘You OK?’ He knew his tone was cool but he couldn’t help it. The anger that the perfect woman should present herself and then make it clear that she didn’t see any kind of future with him was unbearable. She knew how he felt about kids. How important a family was to him.

  ‘I’m fine.’ She didn’t meet his gaze.

  She didn’t look fine. They hit a particularly vicious air current and the chopper slewed sideways. Joe swore softly but Mac closed his eyes. It had been his call in the end to scramble this mission. What if he’d put them all in danger?

  If he’d put Julia in danger?

  The thought was unbearable. Never mind that he was so upset. At some level he knew he was being irrational. It wasn’t Julia’s fault that she didn’t have any ambition to be part of a family. It was simply part of who she was. The courageous, clever woman he’d fallen in love with. He’d put his own life on the line, any day, to ensure her safety. Even now with the anger that was a kind of physical pain.

  Her frightened gaze met his. He held it for just a heartbeat. He didn’t have to smile, thank goodness. He knew the instant the silent message he was trying to send—that they would be all right—had been received. He saw the way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she averted her gaze. The movement of her body as she took a deep breath and…he saw just the corner of a determined, albeit grim smile.

  And in that moment of courage that he’d contributed to, Mac realised he’d never had this kind of a connection with any other person. That he’d never find someone else that felt so much like a part of himself. It shouldn’t matter a bit that Julia didn’t share his dream of having kids but it did. It hurt like hell.

  ‘Target sighted,’ he said tersely, minutes later. ‘Man, that river’s high. And look at the trees in it. I’m not surprised the bridge is washed out.’

  ‘Sooner we’re down the better,’ Joe muttered. ‘I don’t like the way this wind is picking up.’

  The landing was heavy. A jarring thump.

  ‘Sorry ’bout that,’ Joe said. ‘Everybody all right?’

  The wind shook the aircraft and the rotors howled as they slowed.

  ‘What are our chances of being able to take off again, Joe?’

  ‘Soon?’ Joe shook his head. ‘Nil.’

  Mac nodded. ‘Right, then. You may as well make yourself useful, Joe, and help us carry some gear into the house.’

  A small girl with curly, red hair met them at the door to the farmhouse. She had two smaller boys clinging to her legs.

  ‘Are you Maggie?’ Mac asked.

  She nodded, her face tear-streaked and terrified.

  Mac crouched down. ‘You’re a very brave girl,’ he told her. ‘Can you show us where Mum is?’

  Maggie nodded again and tried to move but she was impeded by two sets of small arms. One set belonged to a boy of about five who clung to her waist. The youngest boy was about two years old. A toddler who had a firm grip on her leg.

  Mac had his backpack on and another bag in his hands which he handed to Julia. He swung the toddler under one arm and held out his other hand to Maggie. She took it without hesitation, her other hand taking her brother’s, and Julia had to swallow past a lump in her throat as she followed the chain of small people attached to Mac. It was so easy for him to win their trust. So natural.

  No wonder he was so disappointed with her. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to say a single word to her today that hadn’t had something to do with a job. Except for asking whether she was OK in that turbulence. And even asking that, he had managed to sound distant. As though it was simply professional concern. As Joe’s had been on landing. He’d known she’d been scared, too and his expression had told her she had nothing to worry about, but even then he hadn’t been able to bring himself to smile at her. Her heart heavy, she trudged in her partner’s wake.

  They found the children’s mother on the kitchen floor and it was obvious she was in trouble. Gripped by a contraction, she was barely aware of the influx of people. Mac handed the toddler to Joe and bent towards Maggie.

  ‘We’re going to take care of your mum,’ he said. ‘I need you to go with Joe and help look after your brothers. Can you do that?’

  Julia was already crouched beside the woman, her hand on her wrist seeking a pulse. She looked up as Maggie nodded and turned away.

  ‘What’s your mum’s name?’ she asked.

  ‘Katherine,’ Maggie said, her huge, worried eyes turned towards her mother. ‘But Daddy calls her Katie.’

  ‘Katie? Can you hear me?’

  The woman’s eyes flickered open. She was breathing fast but her respirations were shallow.

  ‘My name’s Julia and this is Mac. We’re paramedics with a helicopter crew.’

  ‘Thank God you’re here… My poor wee Maggie.’

  ‘She’s fine. How long have you been in labour, Katie?’

  ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘Nearly 4 p.m.’

  ‘Doug went out after lunch. I guess the pain came on not long after.’

  ‘Suddenly?’

  ‘Yes…well, it got a lot worse. I’ve had backache for days. And then my waters broke.’

  ‘How many weeks are you?’

  ‘Thirty-eight… No, it must be almost thirty-nine.’

  ‘And were your previous deliveries normal?’

  ‘Yes. Nothing like this…’

  Julia gave up trying to get a heart rate. The pulse beneath her fingers was thready and fast. No surprises there. Katie had been in labour for hours. She would have been exhausted even without the fear of being in this situation without medical assistance. And on top of that, she was losing blood. Julia turned to Mac, who was organising their gear. He had an oxygen mask already attached to a cylinder.

  ‘Ten litres per minute,’ he told Julia as he bent towards their patient. ‘Hi, Katie. I’m Mac. I’m just going to slip this oxygen mask on for you, is that OK?’

  He smiled at Katie. The kind of smile Julia had been missing all day. The kind that made a patient, who was exhausted and in pain and probably worried sick about all her children as well as the baby she was about to have, smile back.

  ‘We need an IV and some fluids up.’ Julia’s voice came out a little more crisply than she had intended.

  Mac’s smile faded. ‘Whatever you need.’ His nod was as crisp as her order as he turned back to the pack of supplies.

  The message was clear. Julia was in charge of this job if she was confident she could handle it. Or course she was. This was—or hopefully would be very soon—a paediatric case. She needed the experience.

  ‘I’d like the life pack on and a full set of baseline vitals, thanks,’ she told Mac. She turned back to Katie. ‘I need to check what’s going on below. Is that OK?’

  Katie nodded. ‘Please…do whatever you have to.’ Her face crumpled. ‘This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was going into hospital tomorrow because the doctor said… Ohhh…it’s starting again…’

  ‘Hold my hand,’ Mac directed. ‘Squeeze as hard as you like.’

  Julia was cutting away Katie’s clothing. She put a towel down to help soak up the liquid on the floor. A mixture of amniotic fluid and blood but she couldn’t see any evidence of meconium staining that could indicate that the danger to the baby’s welfare might be getting critical. It was hard to estimate how much blood had been lost. Or why it was happening.

  ‘What did the doctor say, Katie?’ she asked as soon as she could see the pain of the contraction begin to fade.

  ‘That I had to get to hospital in good time. Something about my placenta being a bit low.’

  Julia’s gaze flew to Mac’s. A placenta that was too low could start to bleed badly as the cervix dilated and ripped blood vessels. How much worse could this blood loss become before the baby arrived?

  Her gloved fingers were searchi
ng for information. Delivery was well under way but something felt wrong with the baby’s head. It was… Julia’s heart sank. ‘It’s breech,’ she told Mac.

  Katie stifled another sob. ‘The doctor said that if she couldn’t be turned this week, I might have to have a Caesarean.’

  Mac had just slipped an IV cannula into Katie’s forearm. He was holding it in place, waiting to secure it and attach the necessary fluids. Waiting to engage in one of those lightning-fast silent conversations.

  You want me to take over?

  I know what to do. I just haven’t done it before.

  You’ll be fine. I’m here. You can do this.

  She could. It was helpful that this wasn’t Katie’s first baby. An episiotomy was probably not necessary, which was good because it wasn’t in Julia’s scope of practice.

  ‘Katie? I know you’re tired, hon, but could you try and give a good push with the next contraction?’

  ‘I’ll…try…’

  She did. The baby’s buttocks came into view and Julia was able to hold the hips and apply gentle traction until the shoulder blades came into view. She rotated the trunk of the baby until the front shoulder was delivered and then turned it in the opposite direction to deliver the other shoulder.

  Thirty seconds, she reminded herself, to let the trunk hang and protect the head of the baby. Longer than you think. Count. Then lift the legs and swing upwards in an arc until you can see the baby’s mouth.

  Mac was there with the small rubber bulb and nozzle to clear the baby’s airway and allow it to start breathing.

  Now it was Julia’s job to control the delivery of the baby’s head to protect it against sudden expansion and expulsion. She slipped her index finger into the tiny mouth and flexed the head.

  ‘Ohhh…!’ Katie groaned.

  Julia could feel the pressure as the contraction built. As gently as she could she eased the baby’s head out. And despite Julia’s concern for the blood loss, for this moment, there was joy. Amazement.

  ‘It’s a wee girl, Katie.’ Mac’s voice sounded thick. ‘She looks a very good weight.’

  ‘Let me see…oh, please… Let me hold her.’

  Julia was happy with what she could see. The baby was a good colour and already breathing well. With a nod she allowed Mac’s hands to slip between hers and she transferred the precious bundle. He placed the baby on Katie’s chest and covered them both with clean, fluffy towels.

  Julia clamped and divided the cord and began to massage Katie’s abdomen to stimulate another contraction and speed up delivery of the placenta. If that was enough to stop the bleeding, they would be all right until they could transfer their patient to hospital, no matter how long it took.

  Darkness fell and the wild weather continued. The bridge was washed away, isolating the farm from any roads. Phone lines were down and the power was off. The SERT helicopter was going nowhere. They were stuck for the night at least and Mac was absolutely loving it.

  The old stone farmhouse was solid enough to withstand whatever nature could hurl at it and the tension of any medical crisis was over. Julia had handled everything brilliantly. A difficult birth, the careful monitoring of Katie until the bleeding stopped completely and her blood pressure climbed back to normal limits, and a commendably thorough paediatric assessment of the newborn girl.

  ‘Her name’s Fiona, for the birth certificate and paperwork,’ Katie told them. ‘But we’re going to call her Noni.’

  ‘Noni,’ the other children chorused from the door, drawn by the sound of a crying baby now the proud recipient of a perfect Apgar score by Julia. ‘We want to see Noni.’

  ‘Mummy?’ Maggie’s face shone. ‘You’re all better now?’

  ‘I’m fine, darling. Come in, all of you. Come and welcome your new little sister.’

  It was Mac’s turn to take charge of the scene for a while but he couldn’t see any reason to move from the kitchen. It was a vast room, with an Aga, sink and pantry at one end, a well-scrubbed table and half a dozen chairs in the middle and at the other end was an open fireplace, an old, comfortable-looking couch and two armchairs.

  With Joe’s help, he built up a roaring log fire to warm the whole room. With Maggie’s help to locate linen and pillows, they made a bed for Katie on the couch. She directed them to where the bassinette and supplies of baby clothes were upstairs and then to a high shelf in the pantry where they found candles and kerosene lamps.

  Mac felt like the hero of the hour when he made use of their sophisticated radio equipment to make contact with the local police, who managed to locate Katie’s husband, Doug. He was at a neighbour’s property, having been caught on the wrong side of the river when the water level rose. He was safe and so was the farm truck and the four dogs but he had no way of getting home. He had been beside himself with anxiety but, thanks to modern, satellite technology, the parents of the brand-new baby were able to have a brief conversation. Mac had to stay close to make sure Katie had no problems working the radio. Julia was hovering close to Maggie, who sat in an armchair with her baby sister in her arms. There was no way to avoid hearing both sides of the radio conversation.

  ‘Are you all right, love?’

  ‘I’m fine, Doug. I’ve had the best care you could imagine. Just as good as it could have been in the hospital, honestly.’

  Julia looked up and smiled and Mac smiled back. It was true. She had every right to look proud of herself and he was only too happy to share the moment.

  ‘She’s here, Doug,’ Katie said brokenly. ‘Our wee girl is here at last and…and she’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Of course she is. Just like her mother.’

  ‘I wish you were here with us…’ Tears were streaming down Katie’s face now and Mac saw Julia biting her lip in sympathy.

  ‘I am,’ came a gruff voice amidst radio crackle. ‘I’m there, Katie. I’m with you. In your heart.’

  Such an unexpected thing to hear a staunch farmer say. Mac could hear the love. Could see it as he looked around to find the three older children all sitting as still as mice, listening to their father’s voice. He could imagine this room in a day or two with no strangers in here. Maybe the dogs were allowed to lie in front of the fire and Doug would be here with his wife and all these beautiful children.

  How could Julia not want something like this in her future? He took the radio from Katie and clipped it back to his belt, carefully avoiding a glance in Julia’s direction.

  ‘We’ll get this all sorted in the morning,’ he promised. ‘We’ll get your whole family back under the same roof, don’t you fret.’

  And, in the meantime, they had what amounted to a great substitute family right here.

  Joe had clearly been adopted as a grandfather by the two small boys, who both wanted to spend as much time as possible on his knee, listening to stories.

  Maggie was the responsible eldest child who was determined to nurse her mother and boss the younger children.

  Mac stepped into Doug’s shoes to cut and haul firewood to ensure the house was warm. He made sure doors and windows were securely latched against the weather and followed Katie’s instructions to put a meal on the table and, later, to get the children into their beds.

  Julia was a chameleon. A big sister for Maggie, encouraging her and helping only when needed. A medic making sure her patients were comfortable and cared for and that all the necessary paperwork was meticulously filled in. A fun aunty when it came to face washing and teeth cleaning and pyjamas for the little boys. Hearing her laughter mingled with the giggles of small children was like a slap in the face for Mac.

  Even harder to see was the way she was another mother for tiny Fiona.

  It was Julia who gently washed the baby on a mattress of soft towels in front of the fire and then dressed her in the soft, warm baby clothes available.

  ‘They were mine,’ Maggie said proudly. ‘When I was a wee baby like Noni.’

  Julia sat with Katie as she fed the baby and watched over them both with th
e same proud smile Mac had shared earlier.

  And it was Julia who got up at some ungodly hour from the armchair she was dozing in to pick Fiona up and change her nappy and to sit and cuddle her in the armchair in the hope of giving Katie a little more time to sleep and heal. Joe was asleep on a couch in another room. The children were all tucked up in their own beds upstairs but Mac was in the other armchair close to the fire. He had also woken as the baby had stirred.

  ‘Need a hand?’

  ‘No, we’re good. Go back to sleep, Mac.’

  It was easy to pretend to be asleep. To tilt his head back so his eyes looked closed in the flickering glow of banked coals in the grate of the fire and the kerosene lamp nearby. It should have been easy to slip back into real sleep given his weariness but Mac soon found what he was watching utterly compelling.

  It began with the gentle way Julia was handling the newborn as she changed its nappy and put tiny legs back into the stretchy suit. The soft sound of her voice as she made soothing murmurs. He must be doing a good job of seeming as soundly asleep as Fiona’s exhausted mother, Mac decided, because he had the feeling they were both non-existent for Julia right now. Her focus was completely on the baby as she gathered it up in its blanket and sat on the edge of her armchair, rocking the infant in her arms.

  The whimpering ceased. The rocking slowed and then Julia simply sat, gazing down at the baby in her arms. Seconds clicked into a minute and then another but Mac was transfixed. Was she waiting to make sure the baby was asleep so that she could put her back in the bassinette?

  No.

  The light might be soft and Mac could only see her profile but the intensity of the expression on Julia’s face made something inside Mac tighten so painfully he couldn’t breathe.

  He watched her hand move, almost in silhouette against the backdrop of the glowing fire. He could see the way her thumb stroked the top of the baby’s head. So slowly it seemed to go on for ever and Mac could feel every millimetre of that touch himself.

  He could feel the…longing. The word came easily, really, because he could feel it himself. Could imagine Julia sitting just like that. Holding their child.