Not What They Were Expecting (34 page)

Then the foetal heart rate stopped.

Or at least it dropped low enough to feel like it had stopped to a couple listening for its every beat.

Before James could say he was going to get a midwife, the monitor started an urgent beeping. Maureen and another nurse were through the door immediately, the nurse smiling at the couple as Maureen checked readings.

‘I think we’d better get Dr Broad,’ said Maureen. ‘Don’t worry, love. It’s just the heart rate is down a tiny bit, and we need to be careful. But everything will be fine.’

‘Is the baby in pain?’ asked Rebecca.

‘Don’t worry, it’s all fine.’

The doctor came in promptly. The smiles were still there, but focus and concentration had entirely replaced routine and niceties. Rebecca’s thumb circled the back of James’ hand compulsively. The doctor asked permission to perform another internal examination and check on baby’s progress. Rebecca waved her on, just wanting her to do what needed to be done without hanging around. She closed her eyes at the pain of the intrusion and willed for everything to be OK.

‘It doesn’t seem to be resolving itself,’ Rebecca heard the doc say to Maureen. ‘I can’t see it getting any better. I think we need to move now. Has she had an epidural? I think we should get her downstairs as soon as possible.’

‘I’ll let them know we’re coming.’

Doctor Broad turned to Rebecca.

‘Rebecca, the baby’s heart rate is dropping too significantly, we’d be worried about the oxygen levels in the blood. It’s possible that the umbilical cord is caught around baby’s neck which can restrict the blood flow and so the safest thing would be a Caesarean. We’d get you down there straight away, and you should have your baby in about twenty minutes.’

The doctor smiled reassuringly, which did nothing for Rebecca’s rising fear.

‘Sure, sure. Whatever’s best. Is the baby OK?’

‘There’s nothing to be overly concerned about now. We want to act quickly so there’s no opportunity for something to worry about to arise.’

‘OK. Fine,’ she said, trying to stay calm. Trying not to think about the mental image of the constricting umbilical cord.

‘Great,’ said the doctor, ‘I’ll see you there soon.’

 

James stood there as suddenly the room was a rush of action, nurses and other staff preparing Rebecca’s bed to be shifted to the operating room, checking Bomp’s signs, and Rebecca’s too. She was even examined for nail varnish, and somebody seemed to be wielding a razor. It was like an extreme beauty treatment. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, nervously watching and wanting to help, but feeling helpless.

‘Now, James, isn’t it?’ said Maureen.

‘Yes.’

‘We’ll be taking Rebecca down to the operating theatre. You can follow us down, there’ll be somebody there to point you in the right direction and get you changed into scrubs so you can be there when your baby arrives.’

Rebecca disappeared in a convoy, and James was left alone, trailing in the corridor.

‘What’s happening?’ Howard appeared at his shoulder. ‘Is everything OK?’

‘There’s an oxygen thing. Bomp’s… They’re doing a C-section. I’ve got to go.’

He broke into a run as he looked for the lift down to the operating theatre.

Getting in the lift he felt tears in his eyes as the doors closed. Please God could nothing happen to either of them. Please Dad.

Apart from a couple of weeks in his teens, he’d never prayed before in his life, and he wasn’t one for life after death either, but right at that second it fell like all he could do.

The lift opened and another nurse he didn’t recognise approached.

‘James is it? Just pop in there and get into a hat, masks and there’s some gowns in there too. I’ll come and get you in a minute.’

He was led into a changing room with piles of clean hospital gowns, and laundry baskets of dirty ones. What did he do now?

He wished he’d paid more attention at the antenatal classes now.

 

Rebecca felt scared and helpless as she tried to adjust to the surroundings of the operating theatre. It was a bigger room than she might have imagined and echoey, but not as white and space-agey as she expected. There seemed to be bright lights everywhere, and so many people milling around, which sent a surge of panic through her, considering the enormity of what was happening. She told herself to calm down and relax, and do her best for Bomp.

She saw some faces she thought she might have seen before, but in scrubs now and partially covered with surgical masks. She did recognise Francesca Broad, the doctor from earlier, even if her gorgeous hair was tucked away – she really could be in a glossy TV medical drama. Rebecca was also introduced to Ravi the anaesthetist who gave her an epidural. While she lay on her side and he stuck needles in her lower back she thought he reminded her of someone. She kept running through possibilities in her head as she lay there, trying to be calm, trying to shut out the fear that had taken over from the excitement.

Bomp is fine, she kept telling herself. Everyone says Bomp’s doing fine. They’re doing this to make sure they stay that way.

But they don’t rush you off unless there’s some danger, the voice in her head urgently whispered back.

She tried to breathe normally, and looked around the faces in the room, reassuring herself that no one else was showing any signs of panic.

Above her she could see Dr Ravi. She wasn’t sure who it was he looked like, but it was something around the eyebrows.

Everything will be fine, she told herself.

 

The nurse led James into the operating theatre.

‘Here’s Daddy,’ said someone he didn’t recognise.

He rocked backwards slightly at the sight ahead of him. Sitting up slightly was his wife, smiling his way. But then, on the other side of a green tent located halfway down her body, he could see what was happening. It looked like something from
Grey’s Anatomy
, and he wasn’t quite ready for it, seeing the scalpel glide through.

His knees began to buckle a bit.

‘Perhaps you’d better stand up this end,’ said the anaesthetist.

Only his eyes were visible, but he reminded James of an Asian Tom Cruise.

‘Hey gorgeous, you OK?’ he asked Rebecca, weaving his fingers into hers.

‘That question again,’ she said squeezing his knuckles. ‘How are things looking down there?’

‘Good. Now I can say you’re beautiful inside and out with some authority.’

‘OK, parents, here we go.’

Dr Broad bent down, midwives hovering eagerly.

She muttered something not quite audible from the other end of the table.

Rebecca and James squeezed each other’s hands tightly.

There was a pause that seemed to last forever.

Then she emerged with another person.

‘Here they are!’

It was Bomp.

But it wasn’t Bomp any more. It was a shiny, surprisingly purple, new baby.

There was silence. Then there was sound again.

The beautiful sound of a grumpy cry.

Rebecca laughed through sheer joy.

James remembered something he’d read somewhere about how if you took a chirping sparrow, and grew it to human size, its tweet would be the volume of a jet engine at full blast. He suspected his baby’s beautiful roar would have blown a sparrow out of the water at the same scale.

‘Did you know what you were having?’ the doctor asked.

‘No,’ Rebecca said.

She could see the baby held in the doctor’s arms, visible only from the chest up as the midwives cut the umbilical cord.

Her whole body vibrated with wanting to hold them. She could focus on nothing else.

‘What do you think?’ the doctor cheerfully asked again.

‘It’s a girl,’ said Rebecca. She had a sudden, certain feeling she was a beautiful girl.

‘You might want to guess again.’

They had a boy.

She had a son.

She couldn’t think of anything she’d want more.

The midwives were holding her son, calling out numbers.

‘APGAR test score of nine,’ whispered James, ‘takes after his dad.’

‘Well done, Rebecca,’ said the doctor, ‘you’ve done brilliantly. We’ll just get you wrapped up again and you’ll be able to give this beautiful boy a cuddle. Dad will help look after him in the meantime.’

The midwife approached James with the baby. Self-consciously wiping his palms on his gown and crooking his elbow protectively, James took his son in his arms. He was so light, but the weight of the reality was incredible.

‘Look at him, Becs, he’s gorgeous.’

‘He’s got your eyes.’

‘Thank God he’s not got my nose.’

‘He’s perfect.’

‘We’ll just shut up shop down here,’ the doctor continued, ‘and we’ll get you back to the ward and you can give the little fellow a proper cuddle. We’ll just borrow him from Dad for now and get him back to you soon.’

‘Does he have a name yet?’ asked a midwife.

‘We had a couple lined up,’ said James, ‘we were just negotiating a final—’

‘Arthur,’ announced Rebecca, smiling at her husband. ‘Who can argue with a woman with her belly wide open?’

‘Arthur it is,’ said James, grinning back.

‘Arthur Benjamin,’ said Rebecca.

The room was buzzing with smiling, happy people, energised by new life. The anaesthetist offered his congratulations too, before turning to James, and looking at the back of his gaping gown.

‘Do you not mind the breeze, Dad?’

‘I wasn’t sure if I could keep my underpants on.’

‘You could have just put the gown on over your trousers. I only go naked under the scrubs on my birthday. I’m trying to get ’Cesca here to do the same. Nice twist with keeping the socks on though.’

James, holding his son in his arms, smiled through tears.

‘This’ll be a first story to embarrass you with in your teens, Artie,’ he whispered to him, his bare arse jiggling as he rocked his child gently and the nurses leaned around behind him to check Ravi wasn’t kidding.

Chapter 46

There were hugs and tears in the canteen as James told Penny and Howard, who had been joined by Margaret, the news. A baby boy, born 7.08pm, weighing 3.4kg. Mother doing well.

Then there was a pause as they all tried to work out what the weight was in pounds and ounces.

‘Teas and choccy bars all round,’ said Howard bustling over to the canteen counter.

‘I’ve something for you, James, to mark the occasion,’ said Maggie, drawing him to one side. ‘It’s a book with some of the pictures I made when you were younger. Look at the back, there’s a few later sketches too.’

He flicked through the slightly oversized scrapbook, pictures torn from other pads artfully arranged across its pages. He started near the back. He’d been wrong. She hadn’t stopped when he got older. She’d never stopped capturing him. There was an awkward adolescent, towering over contemporaries at a school presentation day. At a grown-ups’ party, slumping his shoulders in an attempt to blend in with his surroundings. There were lots of spots too, which James remembered well. But there was also a gentle childlike smile in the pictures, something he couldn’t quite imagine on his teenage self. In his memory at least, his teenage years had involved a mask of perpetual embarrassment around his parents. Maybe Maggie hadn’t been able to see it. Or could see past it.

He flicked to the last page, which was him looking grimly determined over a chessboard. He was playing white against Ben, who was absently staring over James’s head from what looked like a winning position.

‘You wouldn’t pose, but I could always see you in my head,’ said Maggie.

One of the earlier pictures was a kind of still life: James asleep on the floor, surrounded by snacks and toys, his arm draped across an old toy dinosaur. He had a burst of memory of that T-Rex, racing around a German campsite with it, roaring at the other families there, who’d all been so friendly, but different. Then he’d run home to try and scare his mother, and get a scream then a hug for his efforts.

‘Maggie. Mum. I…’

‘Congratulations, James. Ben would be proud.’

He enveloped his mother in a hug.

 

Holding her baby was the most amazing experience of Rebecca’s life. She’d snuggled him under her nightgown, and felt him nuzzle to latch on. Breastfeeding had been something she’d been a little scared of, freaked out by really, but now the connection seemed so natural, wonderful – amazing.

It was closely followed by the most wonderful, amazing tea and toast of her life. She couldn’t help but make little noises of delight as she tucked in. Right now, Arthur was making everything amazing. Life had changed in an instant.

James came back from telling the grandparents with a big grin on his face. He kissed his wife and son.

‘Are you O—’ James started before catching himself. ‘Is everything all right?’

‘Everything is perfect,’ said Rebecca with a grin.

‘What do you think we’ll tell Arthur about this when he’s older?’ James asked. ‘The week before you were born we broke up. You almost ruined our marriage…’

‘He’ll still have time to do that.’

James gave Arthur a wary look.

‘This doesn’t mean everything’s better you know,’ said Rebecca.

‘I know. I’m going to go to a counsellor.’

‘Isn’t that something we should be doing as a couple? I’d’ve thought we could try ourselves at first, rather than go to couples therapy.’

‘Not a marriage one. A careers one.’

‘You’re not going to stick with the mannying?’

‘There must be something safer I could do.’

‘And what about that tart from your office?’ Rebecca asked, wiping crumbs from her front.

‘That was one drink, and I should have told you. But if you’d seen her, you’d have known you had nothing to worry about.’

Rebecca looked at him sceptically.

‘There’s no one that could look as beautiful as you do now.’

Rebecca thought of her hair, which if not stuck flat to her head with sweat was frizzing away. She thought that, despite her mum’s best efforts, she had no make-up on, and that she was in the type of nightgown only a grandma could love. He’d have to be mad to think she was beautiful. Maybe it was the lingering effects of the epidural, or maybe he’d been on the gas and air while she’d not been looking, but she looked in his eyes and believed him.

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