As she turned the corner into the department she heard voices.
‘Imagine if someone you loved couldn’t have a baby, and you knew you could. Would you do it? For a friend? A sister? Would you have a baby for someone else? It’s a long nine months, though, isn’t it? What if something went wrong? What if they decided they didn’t want it, what then?’
Another voice in a stage whisper that echoed around the quieter than usual emergency department replied, ‘Honestly, I don’t know how a mother could give her baby away. All those months inside her, kicking, hiccups, little feet under your ribs...you have a bond, y’know? You’re not telling me that you don’t develop a bond. It’s living inside you.’ There was a pause where Abbie imagined the gossipers all shaking their heads. Then... ‘Oh. Er... Hello, Abbie. We...er...hello.’
‘Hi.’ She was standing where she’d frozen to the spot the second she’d heard the subject of their conversation, probably looking like a complete idiot with her mouth open and bright red cheeks. Her hand was still clutching the scan picture. Her heart was raging. Raging with all the things she wanted to tell them, but it was none of their business.
How she’d wanted to feel the kicks and the hiccups, but no pregnancy had ever progressed past fifteen weeks. How many times she’d had IVF. How many times she’d failed. Until she hadn’t had the energy to do it any more and keep on failing.
It’s my baby. Not Emma’s.
Made with my eggs and Michael’s frozen sperm. It’s our baby. Just a different incubator.
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been over and over and over these thoughts every day since the minute a grinning, glowing Emma had shown her the pregnancy stick with the positive blue line. She’d loved her friend in that moment more than she’d loved anyone else ever—possibly even more than Michael—for doing something so precious. And she would love this baby as fiercely, no matter what. Finally, she’d have a family—a family of two. Other single parents managed, Emma did, so she would too. Just the two of them in a tight little unit.
And she’d always known she’d be the subject of gossip. How could she not be? Surrogacy wasn’t common and people needed educating, otherwise the stigma would be with her baby for life. She gave them all a smile. ‘If I could do it for someone else, I honestly would. I just can’t even do it for me, which is why Emma’s helping me out. She says to think of her as being the oven, but the bun is made from my ingredients. Does that make sense?’
There was a moment where they all gaped back at her, as open-mouthed as she’d been, and she hoped her message was getting through.
‘Of course, Abbie, it makes perfect sense. Now, back to work everyone.’ Stephanie, Head Nurse of Queenstown ED, and very well respected for her no-nonsense approach, turned to the group, thankfully distracting Abbie from the conversation topic and the need to defend herself. No one could possibly understand what she and Emma were going through—and that was fine.
With a few words from their boss, the subject of Abbie’s baby’s parentage and unconventional conception was closed. For now.
Thank you.
‘Wait, Abbie. There’s a Code Two call, and I want you to go with the helo. Tramper took a bad fall on Ben Lomond.’
‘A medivac? On the helicopter?’ Excitement bubbled in her stomach and she pushed all her baggage to the back of her mind. Four months in and she still couldn’t get over the adrenalin rush of working at the coalface that was emergency medicine. Every day, every second, was different from the last, with no idea of what she might have to deal with next.
‘We’ve got enough staff to cover, so yes. This is your chance to watch and learn what it’s like out in the field.’
‘Sure thing.’ Abbie controlled the fluttering in her chest. ‘Thanks, Steph.’
‘No problem.’ Her boss smiled and said in a voice that everyone would hear, ‘For the record, how you choose to have your child is no one’s business but yours and I think it’s wonderful. Put me down for babysitting duties. Now, out you go.’
It was the beginning of spring, so theoretically Queenstown should have been warming up from the previous long cold months, but there was still a good dusting of snow on the tops of the mountains and a cruel wind whipped across the helipad, liberating Abbie’s unruly mane from the clips and elastic that were supposed to hold it all in place. Really, longer length was theoretically easier to look after but would she get a mum’s bob when the baby came? Her heart thrilled a little at the thought, and she laughed at the image in her head of her being all mumsy with a short, neat, practical bob, at the thought of being a mumsy mummy after so long trying.
She was trying to fix the wayward hair neatly back under control when a chopper’s chugging split the air. No time for vanity.
What am I supposed to do?
She ran through the protocols in her head and hoped she’d remember them under stress. But the Intensive Care Paramedics and crew knew what they were doing; she’d learnt that much over the last few months. She’d met them all and been impressed with every one so far.
Soon enough the chopper door slid open and a man dressed in bright red paramedic dungarees jumped down. Shane, the town’s senior paramedic and old family friend, wrapped her in a hug, said something she couldn’t hear over the chopper blades and bundled her towards the helicopter.
Through the open door she could see more crew. Oh. A new one. He had a shock of dark hair. Celtic colouring, like her late grandad. Irish heritage, maybe? Perfect skin. Blue eyes. Nice mouth. A smattering of stubble, which made him look rugged and a little dangerous.
Back to his eyes—because she wanted to take a second look—they really were quite the brightest of blues, like the Queenstown sky on a crisp winter morning.
Where the hell had that thought come from?
Mr Nice Eyes raised his eyebrows as he met her gaze. Out of nowhere she felt a strange fluttery feeling in her stomach.
A medivac! Exciting! She was moving up in the world!
Shane coughed, nudging her forward, and she drew her eyes away from the new guy. Now...what the hell was she supposed to do?
* * *
With the touchdown being as choppy as a protein shake in a blender, Intensive Care Paramedic Callum Baird’s stomach had been left somewhere ten metres above Queenstown hospital. He breathed in the rush of cold air blasting through the open door.
November. New Zealand spring, apparently, and it was still freezing; as cold as a Scottish winter and windier than the top of Ben Nevis.
A diminutive girl had appeared in the doorway. Her face was almost covered by earmuffs and a bright red woolly hat with huge pompom, plus a matching scarf pulled up over her mouth. All Cal could see was her eyes. A dark penetrating brown that showed her to be at once apprehensive and excited. A common rookie air ambulance reaction. She pulled down her scarf and grinned. ‘Hi, I’m Abbie. Staff nurse in ED. I was told to hitch a ride, see what you do out in the wild.’
‘Er...hello.’ Cal shifted over in the tiny space, glancing over at his companion, Shane, who was leading this shift.
Shane nodded back and smiled at the girl; clearly he knew her and liked her.
‘Where should I sit?’ Her eyes danced around the cabin, her hands moving as she spoke, a vibrancy he hadn’t seen before in anyone.
Shane lumbered up into the chopper, wheezing as he sat down. Poor bugger was just at the back end of the flu and letting everyone know about it. ‘Shift over, Callum, make some room for our guest.’
It was none of Cal’s business, but there was barely enough room in here as it was. Plus