When she returned to the unit she could see the tip of the baby’s head as it descended down the birth canal. She arranged the blankets and Jake moved over to stand beside Dr Gates.
‘If we can get a decent heart rate and keep the baby well oxygenated without doing any damage, it has a chance.’
More of the baby’s head showed with each contraction until the tiny flaccid body eased gently into Dr Gates’s large palm.
Poppy winced at the obvious signs of prematurity. Wrinkled, almost transparent skin covered in downy hair. Vernix, the white creamy substance that acted as a barrier cream in the womb, covered her body and the head seemed much larger than the body.
Quickly, Dr Gates clamped and cut the cord to enable Jake to whisk the baby over to the resuscitation trolley.
The ease and speed with which Jake assessed, suctioned, intubated and initiated CPR on the infant was something Poppy had to admire. As she watched those large hands giving cardiac massage to the tiny chest to encourage the little heart to beat, she found herself willing the baby to live. Her mouth was dry as she concentrated on being able to anticipate Jake’s requests.
Barely a word passed between them in that fraught ten minutes. Her throat tightened as she saw the tiny hand clench and unclench as the baby’s heart rate settled into a stable rhythm.
‘Get NETS on the phone and on their way.’ Jake’s quiet voice carried clearly to everyone in the room and Poppy blinked the mist from her eyes. She bit her lip and motioned to one of the morning mid-wives to do as he’d bidden.
‘OK, Poppy, let’s get her in the crib and I’ll bag her until we can get her hooked up to the ventilator.’ He looked up and gave the exhausted mum a quick grin. ‘Congratulations, Lana, she’s a beautiful girl. Bag for a second, please, Poppy.’
He swiftly swapped places with Poppy and she rhythmically squeezed the oxygen into the tiny lungs. Jake steered the awkward trolley against the bed and lifted Lana’s hand to touch it to her baby’s cheek. He raised his own to rest it reassuringly on the mother’s head and said softly but firmly, ‘Baby’s going to have the best care we can give her, and she’s a fighter.’
To take the time to reassure the child’s mother made Jake a special man. Poppy had to admit it. A lot of doctors, including her ex-husband, were so one-tracked they didn’t realise how much of a difference that one touch could make—to give a frightened parent that tiny second of hand contact with their child and create bonds and memories that couldn’t be replaced with a Polaroid picture.
Only then did he allow them to wheel the trolley with its precious burden into the nursery. Away from her mother.
‘The next hour will be a battle while we try to maintain the baby in as stable a condition as we can while we wait for the NETS team to arrive.’
They’d connected the baby to the electric ventilator, and the sound of the rhythmic breathing of the machine seemed to dominate the room. Jake’s voice was low as he found a tiny vein into which to insert the even smaller cannula. Poppy could hardly see the blueness under the skin that showed him where to aim, but he slid it in with ease as she held baby’s arm still.
‘That’s impressive. I have trouble finding a vein in mothers sometimes. Remind me not to complain again when I have those big veins to work with.’
He looked at her under his brows and half smiled. ‘I’ve had lots of practice.’
By the time they had a drip running and the baby fully monitored, they could hear the thump of the helicopter.
Even though she’d seen it all before, it always amazed Poppy how much equipment a helicopter could disgorge when it arrived.
The specialist seemed to be surprised and pleased to see Jake, and even the flight sister was on a firstname basis with him.
Poppy turned away and pulled a face at herself for feeling superfluous. Surprised, she realised she felt vaguely annoyed with Jake and his easy camaraderie with the flight crew. She retreated to the birthing unit to take over from the morning midwife. Lana was tidying herself, preparing to go in the helicopter with her baby.
Soon the thump of the helicopter rotor faded into the distance and Poppy finished restocking the emergency trolley in case it was needed for the next delivery. She slowed her hands as she went over her feelings. All her nerve endings seemed to stand up and wave around whenever Jake was near her. She didn’t even know the guy. Get a grip, girl, she told herself firmly.
Poppy heard Jake being paged for the children’s ward, and breathed a sigh of relief. Then, just when she thought she was safe, he poked his head into the room.
‘Poppy.’
His sudden voice made her jump and she spun around. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears and the room seemed suddenly airless. It was just that he’d startled her.
‘Yes, Doctor?’ Her voice sounded remarkably cool and she managed to meet his eyes. The more she saw of him the more jangled she became. It was really starting to be a pain.
‘I’ll drop back later—there’s something I want to discuss with you.’ His head disappeared around the door again.
Poppy leaned shakily back against the bench and let out a ragged breath. What was it with this man? She hugged her stomach. How could he reduce her to this?
She’d make herself a remedy when she finished tonight. An essential oil bath perhaps, with a calming and stabilising blend for her nerves out of Mum’s aromatherapy book.
It should help.
As usual, thinking of her radical, lovable mother lifted her spirits. Although it had only been two years since she’d died, Poppy had taken to heart her mother’s conviction that in spirit she would always be with her, and the ache of loss was bearable.
Maybe Poppy had compensated by immersing herself in her mother’s interests, like aromatherapy and reflexology, and her home was certainly filled with her mother’s beads, plants and chimes. But they fitted so beautifully into midwifery, and just maybe, she admitted wryly, anything that attracted her ex-husband’s contempt had become doubly attractive to Poppy. The guy was a weasel and hated anything unconventional.
She wondered if Jake did, then shook her head. It didn’t matter anyway. She wasn’t going to get close enough to find out.
Sandy should be around here somewhere, she thought, and found her friend helping the new mums to master the art of breastfeeding. She was in Sheila’s room. Sheila’s eyes showed their delight when she saw Poppy.
‘How are you today, Sheila? Not too tired, I hope?’ Poppy noted the rings around the girl’s eyes but her contentment with her new son was plain to see. ‘Not quite the natural birth you and Luke were planning, was it? Though, I must admit, you do make beautiful babies.’
Sheila smiled dreamily at her son. ‘I’m feeling much better this afternoon, but thanks, Poppy, for looking after us yesterday. You were wonderful. I was so scared of coming into the hospital and how I’d be treated—let alone having a Caesarean. Luke was here when Dr Sheppard came in to see me this morning, and he’s very impressed with him.’ She winked. ‘Dr Sheppard’s quite a hunk.’
‘Yes, he is.’ Poppy felt her face stiffen at the mention of Jake and changed the subject. ‘You and Cade look very contented there. I’ll come back later to see you. Sandy and I are going to have a much-needed cuppa. If you want us, just push the buzzer.’
The two women moved towards the tea room and Poppy grimaced as she saw Sandy watching her. For the last two years her friend had been trying to encourage her to date. Without much success.
‘So, do you think the “hunky” Dr Sheppard is going to fit in here, Poppy? You’re the one who’s had the most to do with him. Day staff said he calls you by your first name already.’ Sandy’s eyes glinted mischievously.
Poppy avoided