Pregnant by the Single Dad Doc

by Louisa Heaton

  She nodded.

  ‘Okay, so what’s bilirubin?’

  She rifled through the files in her brain, trying to find the most efficient way of delivering an answer that sounded assured. ‘A by-product of the breakdown of red blood cells.’

  He began walking and again she followed fast on his heels, admiring the waistcoat that tightly encircled his middle, his flat stomach, his broad shoulders...

  ‘And how would we notice it?’

  ‘Yellowing of the skin—usually hands and feet. Eyes. Er...dark urine.’

  ‘And what causes it in babies, specifically?’ Now he stopped at a door that led into another room filled with incubators. Behind him she saw a row of them, one or two nurses and a few stressed-looking parents.

  ‘The...er...liver isn’t fully developed in a neonate, so it isn’t as effective at removing the bilirubin from the blood.’

  He nodded. ‘Good. You’ve been reading up for this placement?’

  She let out a breath. ‘As much as I could along with...you know...doing assignments and things.’

  ‘Stay on top of it. It’s essential.’

  ‘I will.’

  She was a little annoyed that he was being this way—telling her what to do, being standoffish and abrupt—but she didn’t want to say anything because he was now her mentor and, quite frankly, she’d had worse. But because of their personal history it niggled that he was the one telling her what to do.

  ‘There are two babies in this next bay with jaundice, both being treated with fibre optic phototherapy. We have blankets that are laced with fibre optic cables, which shine directly onto the babies’ backs. What contra-indications should we be aware of?’

  She didn’t know. There’d not been anything about that in the text she’d read earlier. ‘Um...’

  He answered for her. ‘Temperature needs to be checked, and we must also make sure they don’t get dehydrated.’

  Of course! It was obvious now that she thought about it, and she felt like kicking herself for not knowing the answer in front of him. Her cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t see because he was pushing the door open and showing her where she could wash her hands.

  ‘Right—over here we have Bailey Newport and his mum, Sam.’

  Ellie gave a nervous smile to the mum.

  ‘Bailey is one of a set of triplets, born prematurely at thirty-two weeks. Sam had an emergency C-section, due to the threat of pre-eclampsia, but we only had one free cot, so her husband Tom is with the other two babies at St Richard’s. We’re hoping to get the family together as quickly as we can, but right now it’s impossible to do so.’

  Sam gave them a patient smile. ‘It’s difficult, but we take it in turns to be with each baby as much as we can. I’m expressing, but...’

  Her voice trailed away as she looked down at her son and Ellie felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. Her baby was small. Thin, scrawny limbs, his body covered, it seemed, by wires and tubes. His tiny little hands scrunched up tight.

  Witnessing hurt and pain like this would be the most difficult part of this placement, and she had to grit her teeth really hard and concentrate on her breathing so that she didn’t let it overwhelm her.

  ‘Bailey’s taking his mum’s milk well. He’s one of the babies we have using the phototherapy, but his bilirubin levels are coming down nicely and we hope we can wean him off that soon.’

  ‘That’s good. Have you been able to hold him yet?’ she asked Sam. She knew that was what any new mother wanted more than anything.

  ‘Just the once. Everyone’s so busy...we sometimes don’t get the chance to.’

  Logan looked at her directly. ‘Perhaps you’d like to help Sam hold Bailey right now?’

  ‘Really? I’d love to.’

  ‘Okay, let’s wash our hands first.’

  ‘Ooh! Me too!’ Sam beamed.

  As Sam did that Logan stood on the opposite side of the incubator from Ellie and they looked at each other over the top of it. His hot gaze was full of questions and uncertainty and she wondered what he was thinking? Was he glad that she was here? As his student? Or was he troubled by it? He seemed to be looking at her as if he was really struggling with it.

  She didn’t think she would fall in love with him again. She wasn’t after falling in love with anyone—not after what had happened between her and Daniel. But he could at least look at her fondly, as if he remembered the times they’d shared. As if she was his friend. He seemed to be looking at a space just off to her left now. As if he couldn’t quite meet her gaze directly.

  When Sam had washed her hands, she and Logan did the same and then he showed her how to open up the incubator, so that Bailey and all his tubes and wires could be safely transferred over to Mum and nothing would be caught, or twisted, or blocked.

  She nodded and stood by his side, aware of his closeness, listening to his sensible instructions and trying not to think too much about how close they had been and how this was going to be the first baby she’d held since Samuel.

  He’d been bigger than Bailey. Full-term, almost. Bailey seemed tiny in comparison and she didn’t want to hurt him.

  When the moment came she picked him up reverently, as if he was a precious Crown Jewel she was transferring to a safe, holding her breath until the transfer was done and she’d smilingly laid him in his mother’s embrace.

  Sam’s face lit up with joy. ‘Hello, little man. It’s Mummy.’ She glanced up with happiness, her eyes welling with tears as she looked to Ellie and Logan with gratitude. ‘Thank you so much!’

  Ellie could have stood there all day, feeling all the feelings, just watching this mother with her precious son, experiencing that moment. There was nothing else like it. Such a powerful image...a mother holding her child.

  She’d had a similar moment herself, only hers had not been tinged with joy but with grief.

  Feeling her own tears well up, she hurriedly blinked them away, wiping her eyes just in case.

  * * *

  Logan saw Ellie try to hide her tears and he was rocked to his core, fighting the urge to hold her. To comfort her. The Ellie he’d known had never been so emotional or sentimental. She’d been determined and strong, batting away the troubles of life with a confident smile on her face and a you can’t hurt me shield.

  It was something he’d always admired about her—especially when her father had become sick and needed that heart transplant. He’d marvelled at her stoic attitude, amazed at her strength as her father’s health had continued to dwindle until the call eventually came to say that there was a heart for him.

  Back then he would have crumbled under such similar circumstances, but thankfully his parents had been blessed with fine health. Something they were taking full advantage of now, in their retirement years, travelling the globe. The last he’d heard from them they’d been in Bali and had sent him a postcard of the beach there.

  Perhaps it was this place? The NICU? It was a stressful environment for anyone to be in. No one wanted their family to need to come here. No one wanted to see babies covered in wires and needing machines to breathe for them, or tubes to feed them. He had to fight the feeling to reach out and wrap his arms around her and soothe her upset.

  Trying to remember his own first day on the NICU, Logan thought back to his own emotions and feelings and recalled how apprehensive he’d been, how fragile the babies had seemed, how complicated it had all looked. Had he wanted to cry? No, but...

  Then there’d been the day that Rachel was born. And he’d had to come here. Not as a doctor, but as a parent...

  Perhaps instead of soothing Ellie, he ought to be toughening her up?

  ‘Ellie, could I have a quick word outside?’

  He turned to leave, squirting his hands with antiseptic gel as he did so, rubbing the alcohol cleanser into his skin and waiting for her to join him. His he
art was thudding, and he knew he’d sounded stern, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Her being here had thrown him into turmoil.

  Ellie closed the door quietly behind her and looked at him questioningly.

  ‘I know this is a difficult place to be,’ he said, searching for the right words, not wanting to come across as harsh. ‘But it’s best for everyone if the medical staff—doctors, nurses and assistants—maintain some kind of emotional distance.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right.’

  He almost didn’t hear her whispered reply, so determined was he to make sure that she understood. ‘You can’t get attached in here. You can care—just not too much. Or a job like this could destroy you. Do you understand?’

  She frowned. ‘Is that how you do it? By being emotionally distant?’

  Was she referring to now? Or to the past? He couldn’t quite tell. One way it would seem like a genuine enquiry, the other like a slight. A comment on an inherent fault in his being. But he refused to apologise for either.

  ‘It’s the only way to survive. So why don’t you take a moment to regroup and then join me in Bay Two? There’s a case of gastroschisis I think you should see.’

  He watched her go, wondering. Had he been too sharp? Too terse? He didn’t want to be. Having her back with him like this was...wonderful.

  It reminded him of how much he’d missed her.

  * * *

  Ellie stared at her reflection in the mirror, angry at herself for allowing her weakness to escape. She wanted to blame Logan, but she couldn’t. She’d wanted him to treat her like any other medical student and he was. He was simply doing his job, and if she’d got emotional in any other ward her mentor would have advised her to maintain her distance there, too.

  No. This was her own damned fault. Her own damned emotions. She slammed her hand against the sink in frustration, shaking her head, keeping eye contact with herself as she gave herself a really good telling-off.

  Get a grip! You’re stronger than this. Do you want Logan, of all people, to think of you as incapable?

  Nothing had ever been able to bring her down like this. Nothing!

  Until Samuel. And then something had changed within her. The floodgates of emotion had opened and it seemed that now every little thing could bring her to tears. Films, books... Emotional adverts—especially all those Christmas ones that told a little story. Or the ones begging for money for starving children, or children with no clean water to drink. Something about their faces... The sorrowful music... The silent tears that spoke of a pain that couldn’t be heard. She felt it all like daggers in her heart, making her feel useless and hopeless. Weak and pathetic.

  Her mum had told her she would change when she became a mum herself and she’d been right.

  Ellie grabbed a couple of paper towels and dabbed at her face until it was dry. Then she took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. To calm down. She couldn’t afford a moment like this again.

  ‘Right, then, Ellie. You can do this, all right?’ she said aloud, and out of nowhere came a memory of something she’d read about standing in the ‘power pose’. Wide-legged stance, hands on hips, shoulders back, chin raised. Like a superhero. How it could instil belief and confidence.

  So she did that for a moment, because it was easier than having to do some kind of haka, which would have been noisier and slightly more embarrassing.

  Her reflection smiled back at her.

  The power pose was working.

  * * *

  Accepting his place at medical school had been a double-edged sword for Logan. His unconditional offer from Edinburgh had been fantastic, but it had also been difficult. Becoming a doctor was all he’d ever wanted to do. His parents were doctors, and he’d known he’d wanted to do that all his life.

  He just hadn’t expected that when it happened he’d have to leave behind the woman he loved.

  She’d been sitting on his bed, flicking through a magazine, completely unaware that he had momentous news to share.

  ‘I checked UCAS today.’

  She’d looked up, dropped the magazine. Sat up straight. ‘And?’

  ‘I got an unconditional offer.’

  Her face had lit up and she’d screamed with delight, bouncing on his bed as if it was a trampoline before jumping off and throwing her arms around him. ‘That’s amazing!’

  He’d held her tightly, inhaling the scent of her hair, trying to take in every detail about her. Knowing he had to tell her the next part. The difficult part.

  ‘It’s Edinburgh.’

  He’d felt her freeze in his arms.

  She’d pulled back to look at him, confused. ‘Edinburgh? I thought you applied to colleges here in London?’

  ‘I did. But Edinburgh’s the one to offer me a place. Remember we went up there on the train with Mum and Dad for that interview day?’

  ‘But I thought that you said it was too far away?’

  ‘I did, but...’ And then he’d felt a small surge of anger that he was having to defend this. ‘We can still see each other. It just won’t be as often as we’d like.’

  ‘No. It won’t be.’

  He’d looked away. Not happy to see the look of hurt on her face. He didn’t enjoy seeing her sad. ‘We can make it work,’ he’d offered, hoping that they could.

  They were so young to have fallen in love, and they were being thrown by this, and he hadn’t been sure what the best course of action would be to stop her from hurting.

  After he’d left—after he’d spent his first term away—he’d felt their separation more keenly. When he’d spoken to her on the phone he’d been able to hear the pain in her voice. How much she’d missed him...how much he’d missed her.

  But what could he have done about it? He’d been so busy! Inundated by assignments, lectures and placements, he’d known there was no chance of him travelling all the way back to London, and no way she could come up to him either, because he needed to work.

  He’d hated listening to her cry as they said goodbye each time. He’d wanted to do something to ease her pain, to try and make it easier for her, but the distance between them had made it hard. Each phone call they’d shared had been another stab wound. He hadn’t been able to wrap his arms around her. He hadn’t been able to kiss her or stroke her hair the way he usually would when she was upset.

  He’d begun to think about setting her free. About whether he was being cruel to continue with the relationship, knowing that she’d be waiting for him for years. Ellie had dreams of her own. How could she follow them if she was waiting for him? He hadn’t wanted to lose her. He hadn’t wanted to walk away. What if she met someone else? But he had felt it might be the kindest thing—even if it hurt them both in the short term.

  He’d called her on the phone. ‘We need to talk.’

  A heavy silence. ‘About what?’

  ‘About us,’ he’d said, quietly. ‘I don’t think this is working. I’ve thought about this long and hard, Ellie, and I think it’s best if we...’

  ‘If we what?’ Her voice had sounded timid.

  ‘If we just stay friends.’ It had broken his own heart to say it. To cut the cord. To let her go. But he had done it for her. So she could have a life.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s impossible, what we’re doing. You’re just waiting for me, Ellie, and that’s wrong. You’re waiting for me to finish med school. And even after that I’ll have to work, and being a junior doctor is long hours and overtime, day and night shifts all rolled into one. We’d hardly see each other. And then I’d be working hard to get into a specialism, so you’d have to wait for me to finish that. I can’t leave you hanging on like this—it’s not fair.’

  Each word had been like a scar on his heart. He’d loved Ellie so much! But he’d had to do it.

  He couldn’t expect her to wait for him. They were going to b
e apart for five years! And they were both so young, with so much ahead of them. It had been wrong of him to think that they could do this.

  Ellie had cried down the phone, begging and pleading with him to change his mind, and although it pained him to let her go, he’d known it was the right thing for her.

  When the call had finally been over, he’d put his head in his hands and just felt exhausted. He’d loved Ellie—he really had. But she needed to live her life, too. Not waste it. And he’d wanted her to be happy. Short-term pain for long-term gain, and if at the end of five years he returned home and the spark was still there then maybe they could revisit what they both wanted.

  That was what he’d genuinely thought.

  But five years later he’d already met Jo. And she’d been a junior doctor, like him, and she’d understood the life and was going through the same thing, and they’d just clicked, and...

  And now Ellie was back and he was in turmoil. His emotions were all over the place at just seeing her.

  She still had that long, wavy black hair. It concealed her face now, as she concentrated on getting a butterfly needle into the crook of the baby’s arm.

  ‘Adjust the angle. A little lower. That’s it.’

  The needle slid into position and she attached the vacutainers to get the required blood samples.

  She had steady hands. That was good. And she’d found the vein first time, which was sometimes hard to do on babies because they were so small.

  He watched her finish off and cover the needle entry point with a small wad of cotton wool that she taped into position. ‘Okay, get those sent off to Pathology as soon as you’ve filled in the patient details.’

  Ellie gave him a brief smile and he watched her walk away to the desk. Why couldn’t he stop staring at her? Just having her there was remarkable, but he found himself wanting to be closer. To touch her. Make sure that she was real.