The Midwife's Child

‘If they’re as bad as before then you’d better come straight back.’ Jed picked up the notes and tucked them under his arm. ‘But let’s cross our fingers, shall we?’

Aware that his eyes were on her, Brooke gave him a wary glance and then wished she hadn’t. The message in his intense blue gaze was clear enough. He hadn’t finished their conversation. She quickly busied herself helping Jane gather her things together, not relaxing until she heard him leave the room.

‘He’s gorgeous!’ Jane drooled, chattering away as she pulled on her coat. ‘Incredibly good-looking. Is he married?’

Brooke forced a smile. If he was then his wife needed to keep a better hold on him. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I expect he is.’ Jane laughed and picked up her handbag. ‘The good-looking ones are always taken. Lucky wife, having a man like that to take care of her.’

Brooke felt her heart twist and held open the door. Thank goodness they were so busy, Brooke thought as she saw Jed striding off towards Theatre again, followed by his SHO and a flock of medical students. At least it postponed the inevitable confrontation. She didn’t kid herself for one minute that Jed was going to let the matter drop. That one look had said it all.

‘Brooke?’ Paula, the student midwife she’d left with Alison Neal, was hovering in the corridor anxiously. ‘I could do with a hand if you’ve got a minute. Alison’s getting very distressed and I can’t seem to calm her down at all.’

Brooke gave a nod and a brief smile. At least work was a constant distraction. ‘I’ll come now. What pain relief has she had so far?’

‘Just gas and air.’ Paula looked stressed and worried. ‘But she’s really panicky and I can’t seem to relax her at all.’

Brooke followed her into the birthing room and walked straight over to Alison who was sitting on the edge of the bed, breathing rapidly, her hair hanging in damp tendrils over her forehead.

‘How are you doing?’ Brooke sat down next to her and slipped an arm round the woman’s shoulders, feeling the tension under her fingers.

‘I never imagined it would be this painful.’ Alison’s breaths were coming in pants and her cheeks were pale and stained with tears. ‘Breathing just doesn’t seem to work and the gas and air makes me feel sick. I’m no good at this.’

‘You’re doing brilliantly,’ Brooke said quietly, taking charge of the situation and glancing at Paula. ‘Can you draw the curtains, please? Let’s darken the room and try and make the atmosphere more relaxing. Alison, I’m going to use some aromatherapy oils to try and help you relax.’

Alison’s husband frowned. ‘Are they safe in labour?’

‘The ones we use are.’ Brooke stood up and reached into a cupboard for the vaporiser which was kept in each delivery room. ‘Generally we stick to lavender and clary but sometimes I use nutmeg.’

‘How on earth do you know all that?’ Alison looked at her, momentarily distracted. ‘Are you a trained aromatherapist?’

‘Yes, actually,’ Brooke admitted with a smile. ‘Lots of midwives are these days. There’s a general move towards a more holistic approach to pregnancy and birth, and quite a few have done the necessary training to offer aromatherapy to women in labour. We’re very lucky that the unit here encourages that sort of thing.’

Brooke added the oils to the vaporiser and the room was soon filled with the soothing smell of essential oils.

‘Oh, that’s nice.’ Alison closed her eyes and breathed deeply, dropping her head onto her chest as another pain ripped through her body. ‘Here we go again…’

Brooke sat beside her and massaged her gently, talking her quietly through the pain and helping her to breathe properly. When the pain was over Brooke turned to Alison’s husband.

‘It might help if you massaged her back for her.’

He looked helpless. ‘What do I do?’

Together they helped Alison straddle a chair and Brooke showed him how to do thumb-circling on the shoulders using an oil mixture blended with essential oils.

‘Oh, that feels so good, Tim…’ Alison gave a moan of pleasure and closed her eyes, breathing deeply as her husband gently massaged her skin. ‘Tell me you’ll do this when I’m not in labour.’

Tim Neal gave a self-conscious grin. ‘As long as you don’t expect me to go and train as an aromatherapist.’

Brooke stayed with them and monitored Alison’s contractions, and although she was more relaxed it was obvious that she was still finding the pain hard to bear.

‘Would you consider using the pool?’ Brooke crouched down in front of her, her eyes kind and gentle. ‘Many women find it a great pain-reliever, you know.’

Alison shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. ‘I don’t fancy it. I’m sorry, I know it’s illogical…’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Brooke said quietly. ‘I’m just trying to find something that suits you because I think you do need something more, don’t you?’

Alison nodded and the tears slipped onto her cheeks. ‘I’m such a wimp.’

‘You’re not a wimp, Alison, far from it. You’re doing marvellously.’ Brooke sat cross-legged on a cushion and glanced from one to the other. ‘Would you like to consider an epidural?’

‘Paula was just telling us that there is a greater risk of forceps delivery if I have an epidural.’ Alison shifted on the chair, looking uncomfortable and anxious. ‘I really don’t know what to do.’

‘Well, it’s true that there’s a higher incidence of what we call an assisted delivery—that’s forceps or ventouse—with an epidural in place. That’s because you’re not always able to feel the urge to push so well when your lower half is numb. But there’s always the option of allowing the epidural to wear off when you’re ready to push.’

Alison frowned and raked her tangled hair away from her face. ‘And does that work?’

‘Not always,’ Brooke admitted, resting her chin on her palm as she looked at Alison. ‘We can make a good guess as to how quickly you’ll dilate, but some labours can be unpredictable so there’s no guarantee that we can time it perfectly. And some women find it hard to have been pain-free and then suddenly have strong contractions with no build-up.’

‘The truth is, I really want an epidural, but I know midwives hate them.’ Alison bit her lip. ‘You’d rather I tried to do it by myself, wouldn’t you?’

‘Not at all. If you’d like an epidural then that’s fine by me. I would need to examine you because we can’t give you an epidural until you’re at least three centimetres dilated or it can stop your labour, and we don’t want to have to interfere with drips and things.’

Alison glanced at her husband and swallowed hard. ‘I think I would like one.’

‘That’s fine, then.’ Brooke rose to her feet. ‘Let’s get you back on the bed so that I can examine you, and we’ll take it from there.’

Ten minutes later she’d ascertained that Alison was five centimetres dilated and well able to have an epidural.

‘You’re doing really well but you have still got a way to go. The head’s in a good position so I don’t foresee any problems at the moment. Would you like to go for it?’

Alison looked helplessly at her husband and then back at Brooke. ‘I said I wasn’t having anything, but that was before I knew what it felt like.’

‘It doesn’t matter to me, love,’ Tim assured her, giving his wife a quick kiss. ‘You do what feels right.’

Brooke sat down on the bed next to her, her expression sympathetic. ‘You know, there really isn’t a right and a wrong way, Alison. You have to do what feels right to you.’

Tears slipped down Alison’s cheeks. ‘I don’t know. It feels like agony and I’m starting to panic about the delivery itself.’

‘Nothing to panic about,’ Brooke soothed. ‘Just think about now. Let’s work through a few more contractions together and see how you cope.’

She spent another twenty minutes with Alison, at the end of which everyone decided that an epidural was the right option because she was so adamant that she wouldn’t use the pool.

Paula caught up with Brooke in the corridor as she went to bleep the anaesthetist.

‘You’re brilliant with her. I couldn’t get her to relax at all.’

Brooke gave her a tired smile. ‘Don’t blame yourself. She’s very, very anxious.’