Just then Jet had another contraction, and Sue listened to the baby’s heart with a waterproof Sonicaid.
‘Lovely—it’s doing really well,’ she announced.
‘I want to float face down but I’ll drown,’ Jet said after the waves had passed.
‘No problem,’ Sue told her. ‘Have you ever used a snorkel?’
She nodded. ‘Yes—I used to swim a lot.’
Sue handed her a bright yellow snorkel tube, and, fitting it in her mouth, Jet turned over on to her front and floated, arms and legs bent slightly, drifting in the warm water. When the next contraction came she pulled herself to the side, her legs spreading automatically, and, lifting her head out of the water, she began to moan again.
Three times she did that, and the fourth she turned over, her expression totally focused as she began to grunt.
Sue quickly reached down into the water and examined her by touch alone, and then smiled.
‘Nearly there, Jet. Keep going, my love, just one more gentle push—lovely, stop now and pant—that’s it—little pants—good girl—that’s it—and again—lovely!’
Jet cried out, her face a mixture of pain and relief, and, reaching down, she stroked her baby’s head in wonder.
‘Are you sure it can’t drown?’ she asked, showing the first sign of concern, but Sue shook her head.
‘Oh, no—the chest is still compressed. Once the body’s delivered that’s different, so we lift them up quickly then, but now no, it’s perfectly safe.’
Jet sighed gently and leant back against Mick’s arms. ‘Oh, here we go,’ she groaned, and with a long, deep grunt she pushed and Sue lifted the tiny baby clear of the water and placed it in the woman’s waiting arms.
‘Oh, Mick, look,’ she said, tears mingling with the water on her face, and her partner reached round and cradled his child, his own tears flowing just as freely.
‘What is it?’ Sue asked.
Jet bent her head and looked more closely, then lifted a face dazed with happiness. ‘She’s a girl.’
‘Congratulations,’ Sue said warmly, and Charlotte couldn’t help the little bubble of happiness that rose up inside her.
The pain, she knew, would come later, but for now the beauty of the moment carried her willingly along.
After a few minutes, when the cord had stopped pulsating, Sue severed it and handed the little girl to Charlotte. ‘Here, you have a cuddle while Mick and I help Jet out of the water and dry her off a bit.’
The child was tiny—minute, delicate little fingers that gripped Charlotte’s own and wouldn’t let go, her eyes clear and bright, fixed on Charlotte’s face.
The ache in her heart seemed to grow until she could almost feel the swelling in her chest. What would it be like, she wondered, to hold your baby in your arms? To have that serious gaze trained so intently on your face, and know that you were the most important person in that tiny child’s world?
All too soon Jet was warm and comfortable on the bed with the baby settled again at her breast, then with a minimum of fuss she delivered the placenta, exclaiming over it in fascination.
‘I never saw it with the first one,’ she told Sue. ‘Isn’t it amazing?’
Sue lifted up the membranes and showed how they had enclosed the baby, and Jet reached out a hand and touched the fine tissues.
‘It seems incredible that they can be so strong,’ she said in wonder. ‘They’re so thin. I thought they’d be thicker, tougher, somehow.’
Her gaze dropped back to the baby. ‘She’s lovely.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘She is—very beautiful. Well done.’ Her arms felt achingly empty. She turned to Sue. ‘Any needlework for me to do?’
Sue was busily tidying up at the business end, and paused thoughtfully.
‘Little graze on the back wall—it should be OK. The perineum’s intact and there’s no muscle damage.’
Charlotte, who hadn’t yet handled a repair alone, was only too relieved. She thanked the couple for allowing her to witness the birth of their baby, then went back out into the ward.
It seemed hectic after the tranquil scene she had just witnessed, a bustling, chaotic mass of busy people all going about their endless tasks.
Ants, she thought, bustling, busy little ants. And what for? Perhaps because everyone else’s arms feel empty, too.
As she walked towards the nursing station to find out if anyone was looking for her, she saw William striding towards her. His eyes met hers, and a quick smile touched his eyes.
‘Hi. How’s it been?’
‘Fairly quiet,’ she told him. ‘I’ve just witnessed my first water birth.’
‘Ah—peace and tranquillity?’
‘Oh, yes—it was beautiful. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about it when you’ve got time, because I’ve heard all sorts of things about it being dangerous, but it seemed incredibly un-dangerous, somehow.’
He nodded. ‘It all boils down to screening and vigilance. Have you had breakfast?’
She shook her head.
‘Let’s go down to the canteen, then, and we can talk while you eat. I could do with another cup of tea.’
When they were settled at the table, Charlotte tucking into her steaming pile of bacon and egg and tomato, William with a cup of coffee and a similar plateful with an additional stack of toast—‘Looks too good to walk past,’ he’d said—they turned back to the subject of water births.
‘So,’ he asked, lazily stretching himself out sideways and propping one elbow on the table, ‘what do you want to know? The history?’
She shook her head. ‘I know the history of water birth, from Moscow in the 1960s to Leboyer and Odent, and now thanks to them and people like Janet Balaskas and the Active Birth Centre it’s used extensively in this country, particularly for home births. Right?’
He nodded. ‘Right. You’ve done your research.’
‘I should hope so,’ she retorted. ‘Still, books can only tell you so much. It’s the other things.’
‘Like?’
‘How long have you used water pools here?’
‘Oh, about a year. The old boy thinks they’re akin to witchcraft, but Alex Carter and his team are firmly in favour.’
Charlotte assumed that ‘the old boy’ was Derek Blythe, the consultant in charge of their firm, who was known for being firmly rooted in the interventionist era. He had a higher rate of Caesarian sections, forceps deliveries and episiotomies than any of the other consultants, and she had already discovered that the midwives regarded him as a hazard to be avoided at all cost! It followed, therefore, that if he was against water births, then the midwives were very likely to be for them.
William confirmed her thoughts. ‘I have yet to speak to a midwife who disagrees with it provided it’s used only when appropriate,’ he told her.
‘Which is?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Oh—we tend to rule out multiple pregnancies, malpresentations, previous adverse history, anyone who needs monitoring electronically—and of course the midwife has the authority to get the mother out at any time if she feels things aren’t going well.’
‘How often does that happen?’
He shrugged. ‘Not often. When necessary. People tend to want