Bound By Their Babies. Caroline AndersonЧитать онлайн книгу.
an obstetrician, for heaven’s sake! He spent his life surrounded by women in labour, but this was different. This was Emily, his dearest, oldest, closest friend, and he’d promised he’d be there for her. Not as an obstetrician but as her birth partner, and that was much harder because it wasn’t his place to be there, it was Pete’s.
But Pete, her husband of eleven years, the father of her baby, couldn’t be here with her today or any other day. The man who’d had everything any man could want—everything he himself wanted—had lost it all for ever in a cruel twist of fate, and now all Emily had was Jake.
How could he possibly take Pete’s place?
The lift was on a go-slow, and he drummed his fingers on the door, wishing he’d taken the stairs. Come on, come on...
The doors finally hissed open, and there she was, leaning against the window opposite and breathing with soft, light huffs.
‘I’m here, Em, I’ve got you,’ he murmured, and laid his hand on the small of her back and rubbed firmly, and she moaned softly and leant into him, rocking from foot to foot as he stared out into the darkness and waited for the contraction to ease.
The first hint of dawn was just appearing on the horizon, a thin sliver of grey pushing back the night. New day, new life...
‘How are you doing?’ he asked, when the huffing stopped and she straightened up.
‘Awful.’ She turned and met his eyes, her own pinched with fear as she took his hands and hung on. ‘It’s not due for two weeks, how can I be in labour? I’m just not ready, Jake.’
Which made two of them. ‘Yes, you are. You know babies, Em. They come when they come, but at least you’re here now and I didn’t have a thirty-mile drive in the middle of the night to get to you.’
‘Oh, don’t! I thought you were being silly making me move in with you this week. I so nearly didn’t come. I didn’t think there was any need yet, and now I just can’t believe it’s happening.’
‘I can, so I’m really glad you finally listened to me—and you’ll be fine,’ he promised rashly. ‘You’re fit and well—’
‘Don’t give me that. I’m an obstetrician too, I know all the things that can go wrong, and fit and well’s got nothing to do with it.’
‘And you also know the odds, which are slim,’ he said calmly, even though his heart was still pounding. ‘You’ll be fine, Emily. I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the baby.’
‘You can’t say that.’
‘I can. I have,’ he told her, mentally crossing his fingers, because this baby was her last link with Pete, and absolutely nothing could be allowed to break that link. ‘Come on, let’s get you upstairs and admit you. Can you walk, or do you want a wheelchair?’
‘Walk. It’s easier.’
‘OK.’ He led her to the lift, and somebody was holding the doors. Liv, one of their most trusted midwives, and he felt a surge of relief as he flashed her a smile.
‘Hi, Liv. This is Emily—the friend I told you about? Em, Liv’s a senior midwife and she’s amazing.’
‘And you’re a smooth talker,’ Liv said with a laugh. ‘Hi, Emily, it’s good to meet you. I’ll come up with you, get you settled in. Want me to stay for the delivery?’ she added to Jake, and he nodded.
‘That would be great if you can,’ he said, as Emily turned into his arms, gripped his shoulders and moaned softly. ‘It’s OK, Em. Just breathe, in and out, nice and light,’ he coaxed gently, and felt the soft huff of her breath drift against the open V of his scrubs. ‘That’s it, well done, you’re doing really well.’
‘Two minutes forty,’ Liv murmured, and he nodded. They were coming thick and fast. No wonder she was struggling.
The lift pinged, and the grip on his shoulders eased.
‘Are we there?’
‘Yes. Come on, let’s get you comfortable.’
* * *
They felt like the longest two hours of his life, Em’s contractions blurring into each other in an untidy avalanche punctuated by calm reassurance and steady progress reports from Liv.
He was so glad Liv had stayed with them. He trusted her, and in this situation he felt so out of his depth it was absurd, but Liv was calm and in control and she handled it brilliantly while he tried to stop being a doctor and did what he could to help Em.
He rubbed her back, he held her hand, he walked her round, he held her, rocked her, mopped her brow, and then at last he lifted up the squalling, slippery little body of her son and laid him against the bare skin of her breast, his eyes blinded by tears as he tucked a warm towel around the baby.
‘Well done, Em. Well done. Clever girl.’
‘What is it?’
‘A boy,’ he said, his voice catching. He swallowed hard and tried again. ‘It’s a boy.’
Her head was bent so he couldn’t see her eyes, but he could see her fingers, the tender, sure curve of them over the baby’s head, the loving touch of a mother soothing her baby in those momentous moments after birth.
She pressed her lips to the baby’s head. ‘Hello, little one,’ she murmured, her voice a caress. ‘Welcome to the world.’
He was quiet now, his eyes fixed on his mother’s, tiny fingers curled around hers, and Jake’s throat was so clogged he couldn’t speak, but he squeezed her shoulder and she looked up at him and smiled, her eyes shimmering in the slanting light of the early morning sun.
‘We did it,’ she said softly, her voice incredulous. ‘We actually did it.’
‘No, you did it,’ he said, his voice cracking. ‘You’ve been so brave through all of this. Pete would be really proud of you.’
A tear slid down her cheek, and she gave a tiny nod and kissed the baby again.
‘He’s lovely and pink,’ Liv said with a smile, and Jake stepped back and made room for her to do her job. His presence was redundant now, and he just wanted to get out into the fresh air and sort out his feelings, because they were all over the place and some of them had no business being there at all.
‘Apgar score ten at one minute,’ Liv was saying to the other midwife, and he turned to the basin and washed his hands on autopilot, his emotions flayed.
It was fourteen months since Matilda had been born last April at his old hospital on the other side of Suffolk, but it could have been yesterday. It was the only other time he’d been at what felt like the wrong end of a delivery bed, and he’d been shocked at how emotional he’d been when his tiny daughter had been put in his arms, and how much he’d instantly loved her.
He’d only just started here at Yoxburgh Park Hospital then and Jo had refused to move with him, but he’d been there for Matilda’s birth, heard her first cry, been there to hold her, to bond with her, and he spent as much time with her now as he could.
It didn’t feel like enough, but at least he was alive. At least he knew his precious, darling Tilly, and she knew him. Pete would never know his son. The nearest he’d got was a grainy ultrasound image of a tiny foetus taken shortly before he’d died. Now Em was alone, and her little boy would never know his father. That gutted Jake, but he’d always be there for them, whenever he could. He’d promised Pete, and that promise to a dying man was unbreakable.
He went back to Em and stroked her damp, tangled blonde hair gently. ‘I’ll see you later. Give me a call when you’re all tidied up, and I’ll come back.’
Her mouth opened—on a protest?—and then closed again, and she gave him a fleeting smile and nodded. ‘Go and get a coffee or something. I’m not going anywhere fast.’
‘OK.