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Pregnant Midwife: Father Needed. Fiona McArthurЧитать онлайн книгу.

Pregnant Midwife: Father Needed - Fiona McArthur


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relaxation class with a new couple.’ Thank goodness for the excuse, she thought.

      ‘Breathing. I’m very interested in that. Did my obstetric rotation years ago and there’s something very special about the moment of birth, especially a calm one.’

      Where was this going? Mia thought warily.

      She’d been right to be wary. ‘Any chance of tagging along to listen?’ Angus said. ‘One of the medics at the base and his wife rave about breathing.’

      Her stomach dropped. What a load of rubbish, she thought as she paused with her back to him, but could she think of a single good reason why he couldn’t come? Nope. She sighed. ‘I’m leaving at ten o’clock on the dot.’

      ‘This is Angus. He’s Dr Ned’s son and works for the government in disaster relief.’

      Angus held out his hand to Paul, and to Mia’s surprise he even smiled at Josephine. ‘I hope you don’t mind me listening in. I’m very interested in Mia’s relaxation theories.’

      Paul shrugged easily. ‘No problem. The government, eh? I’m up at the mine. Site manager. My wife Josephine is a schoolteacher. Do you fly?’

      Angus nodded. ‘Mostly helicopters, or nothing bigger than a twin, anyway. What about you?’

      Paul looked proudly at his wife. ‘Jo and I met at the aero club. She restored her own Tiger Moth and I fly an Auster.’

      The smile Angus showed them was the most genuine Mia had seen. ‘You both fly rag and tube aeroplanes? That’s great. Love to come up with you one day. Maybe you’d like a trip if the chopper comes down tomorrow. They’ll be dropping me back late afternoon and we could go up then.’

      ‘Paul can go.’ Jo looked down at her tummy ruefully. ‘I’m too fat to climb into helicopters.’

      ‘Maybe I’d better not go.’ Paul looked forlorn at the chance the treat might go away and Jo shook her head.

      ‘You go, but if I go into labour while you’re away I’ll kill you.’

      ‘When are you due?’ Angus checked his watch for the date, as if Jo would have the baby then and there, and they all laughed.

      ‘You’ve got two weeks.’ Jo patted her stomach. ‘So you should be fine.’

      He looked at Mia, who wasn’t quite tapping her foot, but glanced at her own watch, and he stepped back. ‘Better fade into the background.’

      ‘Sorry, Mia.’ Paul smiled easily. ‘You know what we flying types are like.’

      Not till now. ‘Obviously friendlier than other types. I’ve never seen Angus so animated,’ she said dryly.

      The flight bonding session seemed to be over so Jo led the way into the sitting room where they sat around a low table.

      Mia put some charts down and tried to put Angus’s presence into the back of her mind. How dared he be so friendly to these people he didn’t know and not to his own father?

      She needed to get over this and concentrate. It wasn’t her problem. She’d done this antenatal spiel dozens of times, believed it passionately, and could carry it off even with him sitting there. She knew she could. ‘Let’s get started, then.’

      Angus clasped his hands on his lap and tilted his head like a teacher’s pet. She’d kill him later.

      She concentrated on Jo. ‘In labour you have subconscious resources,’ she began, and thankfully her voice wasn’t too wobbly with those unexpected nerves. ‘Resources our bodies use outside our control. Like our heart rate—around eighty beats a minute usually, but it can increase to a hundred and twenty or more if we’re emotionally upset or scared.’

      She couldn’t help the quick glance she shot at Angus, the perfect example of someone who seemed capable of creating a fight-or-flight response in her, even when she didn’t want one. She looked away before he saw her, and hurried on.

      ‘Like thinking about labour and getting palpitations?’ Josephine said, and Paul squeezed his wife’s hand.

      ‘Or thinking about the fact that Jo wants to have a home birth instead of one in the hospital.’

      ‘Exactly.’ She smiled at Josephine and Paul for allowing her to refocus on the discussion. ‘Your body is served by two main nervous systems, the fightand-flight adrenalin sort when you’re uptight and scared, and the relaxation response endorphin when you feel safe and calm.’

      She paused and the couple nodded, so she went on. ‘Because you can’t release both adrenalin and endorphin at the same time, can’t be alert for danger and relaxed at the same time, you need to learn to choose relaxation as the way of stimulating the response to keep you calm. Then you can allow your labour to progress efficiently and as painlessly as possible.’

      ‘I’m all for that,’ Josephine said, ‘and it wouldn’t be bad for Paul to learn for when I ring my mother long distance. He definitely gets pain then.’

      Mia giggled and saw that even Angus’s lips twitched. ‘It’s a skill you can and should use for life,’ she went on. ‘During a relaxation response your blood vessels dilate, in pregnancy your uterine blood flow is improved and your baby is happier, and pregnant or not your breathing slows and you’re ready for sleep or daydreaming.’

      Paul looked fondly at his wife. ‘She’s like that most of the time.’

      ‘You’re just jealous, Paul,’ Mia teased. ‘I’ll show you how to do it too. This is where we talk about mindset and breathing.’

      Angus watched her, still with polite attention, but she felt he watched her lips form the words more than he heard what she said. It made her aware of the way her mouth moved, of any facial expressions she used, and her whole body seemed more alert and awkward than usual. She closed her eyes briefly and recentred herself. She could and would ignore him.

      ‘Relaxation is helped by lots of things. You can imagine a perfect place. Maybe that place is under a tree, under a sky full of stars or on a deserted beach. Similar to that feeling you have towards the end of a really wonderful massage and you know your arm would just drop back if someone picked it up and released it again.’

      Unless it was Angus who’d just massaged her, then relaxation wasn’t the byproduct she’d be left with. Damn it, she needed to concentrate.

      Her voice lowered. ‘Just the feel of someone stroking your back, gently and rhythmically, or warm water running down your body, backwards and forwards in an unending stream, all these featherlight sensations produce endorphins.’

      She saw that Paul had taken Josephine’s hand and was absently stroking her fingers as he listened. Confidence grew within her. These people would be perfect for this.

      Angus’s grey eyes had darkened almost to black when she glanced his way and when he stared back at her she felt suspended in the moment, trapped by the messages she couldn’t help but read—that he desired her.

      Boom—adrenalin shot through her, and she hurried on as all the hairs on her arms stood up. ‘There’s a limitless supply of calming endorphins available in your body to make you more and more high on their morphine-like properties.’ She tried to keep her voice calm and mellow. Where were the endorphins now? All she wanted to do was squeak and run away.

      ‘There’s litres of endorphins, in fact,’ she said, a little too firmly, ‘if you practise to stimulate their release.’

      ‘I feel relaxed already, just listening to you.’ Paul looked a little less sure that this relaxation was all rubbish and Josephine gave him an approving, good-boy look.

      Mia bit her lip to hide her sigh of relief. So everyone couldn’t tell Angus had just turned her into a quivering jelly. That was good. ‘I’m glad, Paul’

      She forced herself to turn to Angus. ‘How about you, Angus? Feeling relaxed?’

      ‘Actually


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