A Family Worth Waiting For: The Midwife's Miracle Baby

‘Campbell.’ Sharon interrupted his thoughts.

‘How are they?’ Stupid question.

‘No different from before. Devastated. They wanted me to ask you if you would perform a Caesar as soon as possible. Hillary doesn’t want to be induced. She was booked for an elective Caesar with Martin anyway. I really think psychologically she wouldn’t cope with waiting until the morning. She keeps saying she can’t bear the thought of her baby being dead inside her. She wants to be able to hold it.’

‘I’ll go and talk to them. Thanks, Sharon.’

Campbell approached the room reluctantly. He didn’t want to intrude on their grief. It was tragic enough for Hillary and Danny, without being forced to share such a personal time in their lives with people who were basically strangers. Even the intimacy of their grief wasn’t sacred.

They looked up when Campbell entered. The soul-destroying cries had dissipated, replaced by expressions of utter disbelief and misery.

‘Sharon said you’d like a C-section?’

Hillary nodded, her chin wobbling. ‘She can’t go through hours of labour to give birth to a dead baby, Doc. She just can’t,’ pleaded Danny.

‘I can’t do that, Campbell,’ Hillary confirmed, tears coursing down her face.

‘I understand,’ Campbell reassured them gently. ‘Are you sure you don’t need more time? There really is no rush.’

‘I want to be able to hold my baby,’ Hillary cried. ‘I don’t want to wait. I want it to be over.’

‘I’ll arrange it immediately. I’ll see you in Theatre in about half an hour.’

Andrea rang up to the operating rooms to check the emergency theatre wasn’t in use, while Campbell made his way up there. He did so with a heavy heart. This would be no joyous event, like most Caesareans. There would be no lusty wail to bring a tear to the eye. Instead, he would have to pull out a stillborn baby. It was too sad for words.

The operation went without a hitch. Campbell felt profound sadness as he handed the lifeless baby boy to a waiting nurse. He knew they would wash the baby and dress him and have him ready to take to his parents when Hillary got out of Theatre. They would be able to hold their baby at last.

Removing the placenta was interesting as he was able to examine the cord close up. Sure enough, it was a true knot. He’s never seen one in all the years he’d been in obstetrics.

Sometimes cords had a lumpy appearance, similar to a knot on a tree-trunk, but this one was a definite knot. He untied it to prove it to himself and so he could be one hundred per cent sure when he saw his client post-op.

Campbell finally got away from the hospital around nine o’clock. He’d stopped in and spent some time with Hillary and Danny. They were lying on the bed together, facing each other, their precious baby boy between them. They were crying and stroking his little face and talking to him as they held each other, and Campbell knew there was no easy way, no quick fix for their grief. They had a hard road ahead.

When Campbell pulled into his parking space he was surprised to find Claire’s car still parked there. She was still here? He’d expected her to be long gone. He breathed a sigh of relief. After today he needed to hold her desperately.

Claire was dressing hurriedly when she heard Campbell’s key in the lock. ‘Oh, hell,’ she cursed under her breath. Why had she slept so long? Now she had no choice but to face him.

She looked at her attire, a pair of Campbell’s baggy gym shorts turned over several times at the waist and pulled down low on her hips to anchor them. A flannelette shirt, also Campbell’s, with the sleeves rolled up. Even her undies were a pair of Campbell’s cotton clingy boxers.

It was either that or get back into her uniform. Yuck! She obviously hadn’t thought about a change of clothes in her tired rush this morning.

‘Campbell, I’m sorry, I know I’m still here,’ gushed Claire, rushing into the lounge room, her attention on buttoning up the flannelette shirt. ‘I’ll get out of your hair straight away, I promise.’

Job complete, she turned her attention to him. She stopped in her tracks. Oh, lord, she thought, he looked awful. Her awkwardness at being caught still in his apartment and in his clothes diminished instantly.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Awful day.’ He grimaced and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his floppy fringe back. He walked past her and sat on the lounge, throwing his keys onto the coffee-table.

‘How awful?’ She sat beside him, not too close, sensing his need to vent his angst.

‘I’ve just delivered a thirty-six-week stillborn baby boy. First true knot in a cord I’ve ever seen.’

‘Oh, Campbell,’ Claire gasped quietly, putting her arm around his shoulders. ‘That’s terrible.’

Claire listened while Campbell filled her in on the details. She absently rubbed his shoulder and caressed his forearm, her head pressed to his in shared sorrow.

‘Sometimes I hate my job so much. I just felt so helpless, you know? Life is so bloody unfair.’

‘I know,’ she soothed quietly. She knew it well.

Campbell pressed his fingers to his temples and supported his face in his hands. Claire stayed silent, hoping her presence was some support.

They worked in a field that had its share of tragedies. Some got to you more than others. She’d been where Campbell was. She wouldn’t desert him in his hour of need.

He raised his head and turned to look at her, giving her a small, sad smile that pulled at her heart. She smiled back, acutely aware of his maleness and his proximity. She felt the intensity of his gaze on her mouth and felt herself sway closer.

The sadness in his eyes drew her like a magnet. They called to her. She wanted to erase his pain and help him forget the last few hours. Every part of her knew she shouldn’t, but he was hurting and he needed her.

His lips touched hers and she sighed into him. The potent need evident in his kiss forced a moan from deep inside her.

‘I need you tonight, Claire. Don’t leave.’

The rawness of his request as he cradled her face couldn’t be denied. She knew what it felt like to need someone to seek solace in. She stood and followed him to his bedroom.

Their love-making was different this time. The frantic, desperate, bordering-on-obsessive need to mate had lessened. Campbell felt as if they were making love underwater. Slow and languorous, their touch unhurried. More explorative than explosive.