‘There’s no sign of any complications from oxygen deprivation,’ he told Sophia. ‘He’s a lucky little boy that you were there to manage the birth.’
She fastened the disposable nappy and reached for the soft sleep suit Claire had given her to bring up to the unit.
‘It wasn’t just me. I probably would have chosen to try and delay the birth and get her in here if I hadn’t had some expert paramedic assistance. He was …’ Oh, yes … there was a definite extra buzz to be found in the satisfaction of a job well done. ‘He was really amazing.’
‘Who was?’ Isla Delamere—Alessi’s fiancée—had popped into the NICU. Her look suggested that the only amazing man around there was her husband-to-be.
‘The paramedic who helped me through an acute cord prolapse this afternoon.’
‘Oh, I heard about that. How’s the baby?’
‘Perfect.’ Was Alessi referring to the baby he’d just checked? His gaze was resting adoringly on his wife as he spoke.
Sophia’s smile had a poignant edge. They might have wanted to keep Isla’s pregnancy secret for a bit longer but the news had slipped out and there was no way these two could hide how they felt about each other. They were so happy. And why wouldn’t they be? They’d found love and were on the way to being a family.
That had been her own dream once.
People probably assumed it still was. That—like most women her age—she was simply waiting to find the right person to make that dream come true. Only her best friend, Emily, knew that there was no man on earth who could put the pieces of her dream back together.
That it had been permanently shattered.
Maybe it was just as well that the baby scrunched up his face and started crying at that moment.
‘I’d better take this little guy back to his mum. She’ll be missing him and he’s hungry.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Isla said. ‘I want to hear more about this paramedic. Was he hot? Single?’
Sophia shook her head as she wrapped the baby in a cotton blanket and picked him up. An image of those unusual brown eyes, somewhere between hazel and chocolate, flashed into her head. She could even see the crinkles in the corners—the smile that had seemed intimate because it was only intended for the person who had the eye contact.
‘Hot enough, I guess,’ she said lightly. ‘But I doubt very much that he’s single.’ Liar, her mind whispered. He wouldn’t have asked you out if he wasn’t single. Her voice rose in pitch as it tightened. ‘And even if he was, I wouldn’t be interested.’
‘Why not?’ Loved up herself, Isla was keen for everybody to share her happiness. And maybe she’d picked up on the fact that Sophia was being less than truthful. ‘Work is where most people find their partners, you know.’
‘I’m not looking for a partner.’ With the baby, who’d stopped crying for the moment, in her arms, Sophia led the way out of the ICU and headed towards the room where Claire had been taken for assessment. ‘And I do go out. I’m going out tomorrow.’ This was a good opportunity to change the subject. ‘You’re coming, aren’t you? To the gardens?’
‘For Em and Oliver’s vow renewal ceremony?’ Isla smiled. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. I think everybody from the MMU is going. It’s the perfect way for everyone to move forward, isn’t it?’ she sighed, probably unaware of the way her hand touched her own belly so protectively. ‘Em’s very brave, isn’t she?’
‘She certainly is.’ Sophia’s arms tightened a little around the precious bundle she was carrying, jiggling him as he started grizzling again. They’d all known that Emily’s foster-daughter would only have a short life but her death had been gutting. Only last week they’d all gathered in the children’s section of Melbourne’s botanical gardens to attend the memorial service for little Gretta. So many tears had been shed as the CEO of the Victoria Hospital—Charles Delamere—had spoken so beautifully about how Gretta’s short life had touched the lives of so many others.
They’d all been clutching pink balloons that had been released into the sky at the end of the ceremony. The balloons had all held little packets of seeds—Kangaroo paws—all different colours. Apparently they had been Gretta’s favourite and Emily had a vision of new plants growing all over Melbourne. It had been a beautiful ending to a very touching ceremony.
‘The plan is that later anyone who can will head for the Rooftop for a drink.’
‘I heard that. Did I tell you that Darcie’s bringing Flick?’
‘The midwifery student?’
‘Yes. She’s due to start shadowing you next week. We thought it would be a good way for her to get to know everyone a bit better. You don’t think Emily will mind, do you?’
‘It’s an open invitation. We all know Em and Oliver and everyone’s thrilled that they’re back together. The sad bit’s been dealt with and this is about the future. It should be a good party.’
‘How formal is it?’
‘Not at all. You can wear whatever you like. But I did talk Em into buying a new dress and getting her hair done so I don’t plan to turn up in jeans myself.’
Emily Evans had been the first real friend that Sophia had made after moving to Melbourne. They’d clicked instantly and it had been Emily who had helped Sophia settle into her new job and home so happily. An evening with a few wines a couple of months into their friendship had sealed the bond when they’d realised how much they had in common. Their journeys may have been very different but the result was the same—they would never know the joy of holding their own newborn infants in their arms.
Had it been stupid to pick this career? Leaving Isla behind, Sophia had a few moments alone, holding Claire’s baby boy. This was the part of her job she loved best. The weight of the tiny body that fitted so snugly against her chest. The joy in the mother’s face as she handed it over. Watching a tiny mouth latch onto a breast for that first feed …
It was always there, though … that empty feeling in her own arms. The ache in the corner of her own heart.
Emily’s journey had been slower. The hope had still been there for all those attempts at IVF and it must have turned to such joy when she’d finally carried a pregnancy almost to term. How devastating would it have been to experience the stillbirth of her son?
More devastating than it had been to wake from an emergency surgery to be told that you’d not only lost your baby but that your uterus had had to be sacrificed to save your life? There would never be a transition period of chasing an IVF dream to lead to acceptance for Sophia. She’d only been twenty-one but her life had changed for ever that day.
But it hadn’t been stupid to choose this career. Yes, she could have shut herself away from the emotional fallout by choosing a nursing career that had nothing to do with babies or children, but that would have only made the ache worse in the long run and at least, this way, she got to share the joy every day of her life pretty much.
Love always came with some fine print about what you were risking but if you never took that risk, you shut yourself off from what life had to offer. Nobody had ever promised that life was easy and she’d seen more than her fair share of heartbreak in this job, but she’d seen far more people reaping the rewards of taking risks.
Look at Em. She’d chosen to love two children who weren’t even hers, both with medical conditions. She’d been brave enough to risk the heartbreak she’d known was coming right from the start. Sophia had thought she was being brave, becoming a midwife and working with other people’s babies every day, but, compared to Em, she was still hiding from life, wasn’t she?
The next half-hour was happy enough to banish any personal reflections