Pregnant by the Single Dad Doc

by Louisa Heaton

  He shook his head. ‘No. Because it’s not protocol for medical students to pass on such news.’

  ‘Maybe I could observe, then?’

  ‘It’s not something you want to see. Not until you have to.’

  She glared at him. It was as if he was blocking everything she wanted.

  ‘I’m trying to protect you, Ellie. Please try and see that.’

  Ellie didn’t want to see anything. She simply pushed past him and headed for the staff rest room. She needed a moment to think and process and grieve for a little girl she’d barely known.

  How many young lives were lost like that? There was no word for a parent who had lost their child. Why was that? Was it too terrible to contemplate? Or was it because a simple word would not be enough to describe the devastation and grief that a parent felt and carried with them throughout life?

  She wanted to punch a wall. Or throw the mugs across the room. To scream at the top of her voice. To sink to her knees and cry.

  How could she understand a world that allowed such cruelty?

  Ellie leant back against a wall and slid down to the ground, staring blindly across at the lockers. Tears crept silently from her eyes and she knew she’d never forget the little girl whose hand she had held for such a short time.

  Sleep tight, Ava.

  * * *

  Work became quite uncomfortable for Logan after Ava’s demise. It was as if the death of the baby had turned Ellie into some kind of robot. Either that or the fact that they’d slept together had changed their dynamic—though she had said, hadn’t she, that she wanted to be friends?

  He would ask her to do something and she would do it, but there was no conversation, no chat, no expression, and he was worried that maybe Ava’s passing had affected her too much.

  ‘Ellie, could I have a quick word?’

  Ellie nodded and followed him into his office. He indicated that she should take a seat, which she did, staring down at his desk, not making eye contact.

  ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘Fine.’

  He didn’t believe her, and he was worried. ‘You don’t seem fine.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘You just seem a little...off.’

  ‘Am I working to your standards?’

  He gave a nod.

  ‘Doing everything you ask of me?’

  Another nod.

  ‘Then what’s the problem?’

  ‘You’re terse. Abrupt. You hardly ever crack a smile—’

  She smiled then. ‘I’m sorry—are you telling me to smile more? Don’t you realise how terribly patronising that sounds?’

  ‘You’re misinterpreting my words.’

  ‘So make them clear for me, then.’

  He stared at her. ‘Okay. If that’s how you want it. Since Ava—since us—you’ve had a different demeanour. You do your work, and you do it capably, but that is it. There is no engagement, there is no enquiry, nor any interest in expanding your learning. You no longer seem fired up by your studies. You do the bare minimum and then you go home.’

  She looked at him then. Finally met his gaze. ‘Are you failing me on my placement?’

  ‘No. Not at all. But I am hoping to light a fire beneath you.’ He smiled at her, to show her that he meant his words kindly. ‘You need to get your light back, Ellie. You can’t let one death defeat you.’ He leaned forward, his voice low. ‘And you can’t let what happened between us change you. I’m trying to tell you like a friend would. Talk to me.’

  She shook her head. ‘It’s not about one death.’

  It wasn’t about Ava? ‘Then what is it about?’

  Were her eyes welling up? What was hurting her? Something he was failing to see? If she didn’t tell him, then how could he help her? Because he truly did want to soothe her soul. Had he been too abrupt? Had he caused this? He didn’t want to cause her any pain. He’d done that once already.

  ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she said.

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because you told me no one could if they hadn’t gone through it themselves.’

  And she got up and left his office, wiping away tears.

  Logan stared at the door she’d left open behind her, pondering her words. What did that mean? When had he said that? And in what context? If he could remember, it might give him some clue.

  She was trying to say she’d been through something that he hadn’t. But what? He’d been there when Ava died too.

  She’d said, ‘It’s not about one death.’

  So who else had died?

  What was it that he didn’t know?

  * * *

  Her alarm woke her. Groaning, she blindly reached out to grab her phone and switch off the irritating noise, then flopped back against her pillow. Normally she woke up before her alarm, but she’d been feeling extra tired these last few days, and what with all the stresses and strains of the last few weeks—ever since the crash, really—she guessed her body just needed some extra time to rest.

  She stared up at the ceiling, mentally preparing herself for getting out of bed and thinking of all she had to do before work. Get washed and dressed. Pack a lunch. Clean the kitchen. Have breakfast.

  Ugh...breakfast.

  Usually she’d have some jam on toast, or a bagel, or some cereal, but the idea of food today was not doing her stomach any favours.

  What did I eat last night?

  Then she remembered. She’d grabbed a takeaway on the way home. Chinese. Chicken chow mein with seaweed and crispy beef. She’d been ravenous and had almost eaten the whole thing.

  No wonder I don’t fancy breakfast.

  Sitting up, she swung her legs out of bed and breathed out a sigh as her stomach gurgled.

  I really mustn’t eat so late again. It’s not good for me.

  Ellie got up and washed her face, brushed her teeth. In the mirror she looked a little pale, but what medical student didn’t? All the work and then the studying, the late nights poring over textbooks and cramming for the next day, would take its toll on anyone. Especially when they didn’t eat very healthily. Plus, it didn’t help that she had such dark hair. It made her skin look paler than it normally would, but on the plus side it looked great at Halloween.

  Downstairs, she began to brew some coffee and pottered about, clearing away the debris from last night. But by the time the coffee was ready she really didn’t fancy it, and ended up pouring herself some orange juice instead. Much better. The acidity and sharpness was just what she needed.

  She belched loudly, and then listened as her stomach gurgled some more. That didn’t sound good. Heading back upstairs, she was about to get dressed when she felt bile rush into the back of her throat and had to bolt for the bathroom.

  It soon passed, but she stood there for a moment, worrying that she had food poisoning. Had the chicken been cooked properly last night? She couldn’t afford to take any time off. She rummaged through her bathroom cabinet and found some indigestion tablets, took some of those.

  She took the bus to work, and when she got out at her stop the fresh air made her feel a lot better. She strode along quite happily, determined that today was going to be a fresh start.

  Logan’s talk the other day had comforted her a little. He’d noticed. Noticed that she was finding everything a bit hard lately. But no more. She couldn’t allow what had happened to derail her future. It had already been disrupted enough, and she was doing her best with the options she had left to her.

  She couldn’t be with Logan. Not like that. He was a distraction. And if she couldn’t be a mother then she would damn well make sure she was the best doctor there could be. Helping others, giving all kinds of people—children, babies, grown-ups—the chance to carry on. To live.

  Because life was short, and for some it never even got star
ted. She’d been off with everyone lately and he’d raised it with her. She had no doubt that if she had been anyone else she would have had a warning by now. Her friendship with Logan had prevented that. He’d been a friend once and he deserved her to be a friend now, so...maybe an apology? Or an explanation?

  At work, she knocked on his office door and waited, but heard nothing. Hesitantly, she opened the door, but his office was empty, so she headed to the staff room, glancing into the wards as she passed them.

  He was making coffee in the small kitchenette. Just seeing him made her heart yearn. She stamped down hard on it.

  ‘Logan! Morning! Could I have a quick word with you, please?’

  He turned and smiled. ‘Of course!’ Then he frowned. ‘Hey, are you all right? You look incredibly pale.’

  ‘I’m fine! Dodgy takeaway, I think, but I’m powering through.’

  When he showed such concern for her wellbeing she had to fight the feelings it produced. Feelings of wanting to fall into his arms once again and let him care for her.

  ‘All right... How can I help?’

  ‘I just want to apologise for my attitude of late. You were absolutely right to call me out on it and I can promise you that from here on in you’ll notice a vast improvement.’

  Logan smiled. ‘Okay. Can I get you a coffee?’

  He wafted his full mug in front of her. The scent of it went up her nose and turned her stomach.

  ‘Ooh, no thanks. Do we have any juice?’

  ‘On a health kick?’

  She laughed, dipping past him to open the fridge and look inside. There was a purple grape drink, so she had a glass of that.

  ‘There’s a surgery first thing that we could observe. Are you up for that?’ Logan asked.

  Of course she was! And she was glad they’d moved past his concern. Focusing on her studies, on her career, the future—that was what she should be thinking about.

  ‘Absolutely! What is it?’

  ‘It’s a planned Caesarean section. Thirty-four weeks. The mother has got gestational diabetes and the baby is quite large. It’s just not safe for her to continue or to deliver vaginally.’

  She nodded, remembering reading about how some babies could have low blood sugar after birth, with possible jaundice or breathing difficulties.

  ‘Has she been given steroids for the baby’s lungs?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘Okay. What time is it scheduled for?’

  ‘In thirty minutes.’

  ‘Great. I’ll look forward to it.’

  He peered at her. ‘You sure you’re all right?’

  Don’t look into his eyes. ‘Of course!’

  * * *

  He scrubbed alongside Ellie. With her dark hair swept up in the scrubs cap, and her face mainly hidden by the mask, her blue eyes looked very wide and large. She’d always had such expressive eyes. Years ago he’d spent hours just staring into them, and he hated it that he couldn’t do that now.

  They headed in, and the operating obstetric surgeon, Max, checked that everybody was ready and the patient was comfortable. Her partner sat beside her, gowned up and looking terrified.

  ‘Are we all ready to begin? Charlotte—I’m going to make a start.’

  Charlotte nodded nervously.

  ‘Can you feel this? Or this?’ The surgeon pinched at her skin with forceps.

  Charlotte shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘All right—let’s go.’

  ‘Max, is it all right if my medical student steps up for a better view? I don’t think she’s seen a Caesarean section yet.’

  Max nodded. ‘Be my guest. What’s your name?’

  ‘Ellie Jones.’

  ‘Ah...me and Miss Jones! I’ve always wanted to say that.’

  Ellie turned to look at Logan, smiling behind her mask, and he smiled back. It was good for Ellie to see that it could sometimes be quite relaxed in surgery. Everyone knew what they were doing and everyone had a job. All she had to do was witness it and soak it all in.

  ‘Make sure you ask Max some questions, Ellie. Keep him on his toes.’

  Max raised an eyebrow as he worked beneath the theatre lights. ‘As you can see, Miss Jones, I am currently making my way through the subcutaneous fat...’

  Ellie leaned forward for a better view.

  Logan hoped she would make the most of the experience. She’d been really good in surgery before, with the gastroschisis case.

  ‘And now I’m cutting through the rectus sheath. Do you know what that is?’

  ‘Err...no. Sorry.’

  ‘It’s the sheath that contains the transverse abdominal, external and internal oblique muscles.’

  ‘Ah...okay.’

  Logan heard her clear her throat and glanced at her as he detected a weird movement. Had she swayed a little? But, staring at her now he thought she seemed as steady as a rock, so perhaps he was fretting unnecessarily?

  Besides, he had his own equipment to check and get ready—ready to receive the baby when necessary.

  Max continued with his commentary. ‘This is the peritoneum, and here you can see the abdominal cavity. Can you see it? Have a good look.’

  Ellie bent forward. ‘Err...yes.’ She gulped.

  Logan waited with the paediatrician to receive the baby. They would assess it together, and hopefully it would be all right to go to its mother and stay there. They would check its observations half-hourly, to monitor the blood glucose, but he was hoping for a good outcome.

  * * *

  Ellie could feel sweat beading her forehead. She was beginning to feel a little light-headed and regretted not managing any breakfast that morning. Mind you, she hadn’t been expecting to go straight into surgery!

  She glanced up to look at Max, the surgeon, who was concentrating hard, and then she glanced at Logan. He was saying something to the paediatrician, checking the equipment again as he waited for the baby to arrive.

  Ellie was trying her hardest not to think of the smells and sights assailing her senses. The coppery rich scent of blood, the stink of the cauterising blade as it burnt flesh, the look of the yellow globulous fat and the redness of the blood and the...

  She blinked, feeling a little unsteady. Her stomach was beginning to roll.

  Panicking, she eyed the door to the scrub room. Could she leave? Would that be bad form? Would it raise questions? She didn’t want to get a reputation as a student who couldn’t make it through a short surgery. She needed to stay! How long did C-sections take anyway? Thirty minutes? Forty? She could last for that, right?

  Just concentrate on something else...

  * * *

  ‘I’m now about to incise the uterus...’

  Logan watched as, almost in slow motion, Ellie swayed violently and then went crashing to the floor, taking with her a tray of instruments.

  ‘Ellie!’ He wanted to take care of her, but Max had got the baby out at this point, and he knew it had to be his first priority, so he shouted at a nurse. ‘Take care of Ellie! Get her on a trolley and keep me updated!’

  The baby was crying. He was large and pink, lustily using his lungs, and Logan was aware in his peripheral vision that someone was hoisting Ellie up onto a trolley and wheeling her from the theatre.

  He didn’t have time to worry about her there and then. He needed to assess the baby. But the paediatrician seemed happy with his oxygen and APGAR score.

  ‘I think he can go to Mum.’

  ‘Do you need me?’ he asked urgently, fighting the urge to just run from the theatre right now and check on Ellie.

  ‘We’ll be okay. Go and check on your student.’

  Max turned to look at him. ‘Better get one with a stronger stomach, Dr Riley!’

  Logan ignored the jibe and went rushing out, pulling off his gloves, mask and gown and tossing
them into the trash. Outside in the corridor he saw her, still perched on the trolley bed, looking pale and washed out.

  ‘Ellie! Are you okay?’

  She groaned. ‘I guess that takeaway isn’t doing me any favours... Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick...’

  He fetched her a bowl and held it in front of her, but she didn’t throw up—which was good. ‘Maybe you should go home if you’re this ill.’

  ‘No, I’m good... I’m okay. It was just...’

  Her face went a little green and he held up the bowl again, but she pushed it away. He smiled, relieved that it seemed to be something simple like a stomach upset and not anything more serious.

  ‘Maybe don’t use that takeaway again, huh?’

  She managed a pasty, clammy smile and belched. ‘Maybe not.’

  ‘Maybe you should have an IV? Get some fluids on board?’

  ‘Maybe... I’ve not been able to eat anything this morning.’

  ‘Well, there you go, then. That’s your issue. Best not to go into surgery with an empty stomach.’

  ‘I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of your colleagues.’

  ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘I bet I did. I’ll apologise later.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it.’ He laid his hand on her arm, rubbed it. ‘You just get better.’

  She looked up at him with those wide blue eyes of hers—eyes that he would happily wallow in if he could.

  ‘I’ll try.’

  * * *

  Ellie was mortified. She had never, ever fainted in surgery before. Hadn’t even come close to it! Surgery fascinated her. Seeing someone’s insides was like being given a special preview of something magical and fantastic. A hidden world. To pass out like that was embarrassing! She wanted to be a surgeon, for crying out loud!

  Logan was right. She ought to have tried to eat something before surgery. But she’d felt so rotten earlier, and then nausea had really hit her hard as she’d watched the surgeon cut through those fatty layers...

  Ellie groaned, just thinking about it, and lay back against the trolley, feeling a clamminess against her skin. Perhaps she should accept an IV? Because right there and then she didn’t imagine she’d be ready to eat for a while.