Always the Midwife

‘Oh, I heard about that. How’s the baby?’

‘Perfect.’ Was Alessi referring to the baby he’d just checked? His gaze was resting adoringly on his wife as he spoke.

Sophia’s smile had a poignant edge. They might have wanted to keep Isla’s pregnancy secret for a bit longer but the news had slipped out and there was no way these two could hide how they felt about each other. They were so happy. And why wouldn’t they be? They’d found love and were on the way to being a family.

That had been her own dream once.

People probably assumed it still was. That—like most women her age—she was simply waiting to find the right person to make that dream come true. Only her best friend, Emily, knew that there was no man on earth who could put the pieces of her dream back together.

That it had been permanently shattered.

Maybe it was just as well that the baby scrunched up his face and started crying at that moment.

‘I’d better take this little guy back to his mum. She’ll be missing him and he’s hungry.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ Isla said. ‘I want to hear more about this paramedic. Was he hot? Single?’

Sophia shook her head as she wrapped the baby in a cotton blanket and picked him up. An image of those unusual brown eyes, somewhere between hazel and chocolate, flashed into her head. She could even see the crinkles in the corners—the smile that had seemed intimate because it was only intended for the person who had the eye contact.

‘Hot enough, I guess,’ she said lightly. ‘But I doubt very much that he’s single.’ Liar, her mind whispered. He wouldn’t have asked you out if he wasn’t single. Her voice rose in pitch as it tightened. ‘And even if he was, I wouldn’t be interested.’

‘Why not?’ Loved up herself, Isla was keen for everybody to share her happiness. And maybe she’d picked up on the fact that Sophia was being less than truthful. ‘Work is where most people find their partners, you know.’

‘I’m not looking for a partner.’ With the baby, who’d stopped crying for the moment, in her arms, Sophia led the way out of the ICU and headed towards the room where Claire had been taken for assessment. ‘And I do go out. I’m going out tomorrow.’ This was a good opportunity to change the subject. ‘You’re coming, aren’t you? To the gardens?’

‘For Em and Oliver’s vow renewal ceremony?’ Isla smiled. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. I think everybody from the MMU is going. It’s the perfect way for everyone to move forward, isn’t it?’ she sighed, probably unaware of the way her hand touched her own belly so protectively. ‘Em’s very brave, isn’t she?’

‘She certainly is.’ Sophia’s arms tightened a little around the precious bundle she was carrying, jiggling him as he started grizzling again. They’d all known that Emily’s foster-daughter would only have a short life but her death had been gutting. Only last week they’d all gathered in the children’s section of Melbourne’s botanical gardens to attend the memorial service for little Gretta. So many tears had been shed as the CEO of the Victoria Hospital—Charles Delamere—had spoken so beautifully about how Gretta’s short life had touched the lives of so many others.

They’d all been clutching pink balloons that had been released into the sky at the end of the ceremony. The balloons had all held little packets of seeds—Kangaroo paws—all different colours. Apparently they had been Gretta’s favourite and Emily had a vision of new plants growing all over Melbourne. It had been a beautiful ending to a very touching ceremony.

‘The plan is that later anyone who can will head for the Rooftop for a drink.’

‘I heard that. Did I tell you that Darcie’s bringing Flick?’

‘The midwifery student?’

‘Yes. She’s due to start shadowing you next week. We thought it would be a good way for her to get to know everyone a bit better. You don’t think Emily will mind, do you?’

‘It’s an open invitation. We all know Em and Oliver and everyone’s thrilled that they’re back together. The sad bit’s been dealt with and this is about the future. It should be a good party.’

‘How formal is it?’

‘Not at all. You can wear whatever you like. But I did talk Em into buying a new dress and getting her hair done so I don’t plan to turn up in jeans myself.’

Emily Evans had been the first real friend that Sophia had made after moving to Melbourne. They’d clicked instantly and it had been Emily who had helped Sophia settle into her new job and home so happily. An evening with a few wines a couple of months into their friendship had sealed the bond when they’d realised how much they had in common. Their journeys may have been very different but the result was the same—they would never know the joy of holding their own newborn infants in their arms.

Had it been stupid to pick this career? Leaving Isla behind, Sophia had a few moments alone, holding Claire’s baby boy. This was the part of her job she loved best. The weight of the tiny body that fitted so snugly against her chest. The joy in the mother’s face as she handed it over. Watching a tiny mouth latch onto a breast for that first feed …

It was always there, though … that empty feeling in her own arms. The ache in the corner of her own heart.

Emily’s journey had been slower. The hope had still been there for all those attempts at IVF and it must have turned to such joy when she’d finally carried a pregnancy almost to term. How devastating would it have been to experience the stillbirth of her son?

More devastating than it had been to wake from an emergency surgery to be told that you’d not only lost your baby but that your uterus had had to be sacrificed to save your life? There would never be a transition period of chasing an IVF dream to lead to acceptance for Sophia. She’d only been twenty-one but her life had changed for ever that day.

But it hadn’t been stupid to choose this career. Yes, she could have shut herself away from the emotional fallout by choosing a nursing career that had nothing to do with babies or children, but that would have only made the ache worse in the long run and at least, this way, she got to share the joy every day of her life pretty much.

Love always came with some fine print about what you were risking but if you never took that risk, you shut yourself off from what life had to offer. Nobody had ever promised that life was easy and she’d seen more than her fair share of heartbreak in this job, but she’d seen far more people reaping the rewards of taking risks.

Look at Em. She’d chosen to love two children who weren’t even hers, both with medical conditions. She’d been brave enough to risk the heartbreak she’d known was coming right from the start. Sophia had thought she was being brave, becoming a midwife and working with other people’s babies every day, but, compared to Em, she was still hiding from life, wasn’t she?

The next half-hour was happy enough to banish any personal reflections as Sophia spent time with Claire and Greg and the baby who now had a name—Isaac.

The first breastfeed was no drama and she left the happy parents preparing to go back home for their first night as a family.

Weaving through the busy, inner-city streets to get back to her small, terraced cottage when she finally signed off duty wasn’t enough of a distraction, however. The ache was a little heavier today. Not just the empty ache of not having a baby to hold. There was the ache of not having a hand to hold. Having someone in her life who was her special person.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t making new friends here. Good friends. It was because she was essentially alone. She had no family nearby. Her best friend was back with her husband. Sophia had no one who was always available to share the highs and lows of life. And a best friend could never take the place of a life partner, anyway. She had no one to cuddle up to at night.

How stupid had she been, turning down that offer of a date with Aiden Harrison?

Why couldn’t she be a bit braver?

If only she could turn the clock back to that moment. She could see those dancing eyes so clearly. A mix of attraction and humour and … confidence that she would say yes?

He hadn’t been upset by her stuttering refusal, though, had he?

Maybe, by now, he was feeling relieved.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Sophia gave herself a mental shake. She needed to get over herself or she wouldn’t be contributing anything positive at tomorrow’s celebration. Maybe she needed to take a leaf out of Emily’s book and convince herself that the risk of loving was always worthwhile.

Maybe she could even go down that track herself one day and think about fostering kids.

‘It’s only me.’ Aiden let himself into the big house in Brunswick—his usual stop on his way home. ‘Where is everyone? Nate?’

A dark head popped out from behind a nearby door. ‘We’ll be out in a sec, Aiden. The other boys are in the lounge.’

The lounge was a large room and, like all the other rooms in this converted house, it had polished wooden floors. Unlike most lounges, it had very little furniture, however, because the residents didn’t need sofas or armchairs. The four young men who lived here were all quadriplegics who needed a high level of domestic and personal assistance. The youngest lad, Steve, was only eighteen. Nathan, at twenty-four, was the oldest.

Not that his younger brother intended to live here for long. This was a halfway step—a move towards the kind of independence he really wanted. At some point they were going to have to talk about it and maybe tonight would be a good time. While he hadn’t said anything yet, Aiden was worried about the idea of Nate living independently. He himself had a demanding job and he wouldn’t be able to drop everything and go and help his brother if something happened. At least here there were always carers on hand and it was a lot better than the residential home he’d been in for the last few years.

Or was the anxiety about the future more like a form of guilt? That he hadn’t been able to care for his brother himself when the accident had happened because he’d only been a kid himself?

That it was his fault that the accident had happened in the first place?

That, if Nathan was capable of living in a normal house, he’d want it to be with him and then he’d have to take full responsibility. Oh, he’d have a carer to come in a couple of times a day to help with the transfers from bed to wheelchair and for the personal type care of showering and toileting, but what about the rest of the day? What would happen if Nate fell out of his chair or something and he was in the middle of a job like that obstetric emergency today?

He wanted his brother somewhere he was protected and surely this was as good as it got? This was like a regular blokes’ flat, with a sports programme playing on its huge-screen television and guys sitting around, yelling approval at the goal that had just been scored.