Bridgette walked into the resuscitation area, where the baby would be stabilised as much as possible before being moved to NICU. Even though she had seen premature babies, now and for evermore the sight of something so small and so fragile and so completely tiny took her breath away. Bridgette loved big, fat babies, little scrawny ones too, but a scrap like this made her heart flutter in silent panic.
‘She’s a little fighter.’ Kelly came over. ‘We’re going to move her up in a couple of minutes.’
‘Dad wants to know if he can come and watch. He’s promised not to get in the way. He just wants to see what’s happening.’
‘Not yet,’ Dominic called over. ‘I’ll talk to him as soon as I can.’
‘Tell him to stay with his wife for now,’ Kelly suggested. ‘I’ll come and fetch him when Dominic is ready to talk to him.’
Kelly was as good as her word, and by the time Carla had been moved to Recovery, Kelly appeared, holding some new photos of their tiny daughter, which she handed to Mum and explained a little of what was going on. ‘The doctors are still with her, but Dominic said if I bring Frank up he’ll try to come out to speak with him. He’ll come down and talk to you a bit later.’
It was a busy morning. Carla spent a long time in Recovery before being transferred back to the maternity unit, but even there she still required very close observation as her vital signs would take a while to stabilise after the birth. Carla was still very sick and of course wanted more information about her baby, whom they’d named Francesca. Frank had seen her very briefly and was now back with his wife and clearly a little impatient about the lack of news.
‘Mary from daycare is on the phone for you.’ Nandita, the ward clerk, popped a head around the door and handed Bridgette the phone.
‘Nothing to worry about at all’ came Mary’s reassuring voice as Bridgette stepped out into the corridor. ‘I’m just about to head off for lunch and I thought I’d let you know how well he’s gone today. He’s found a stack of bricks, which amused him for most of the morning.’
‘Thanks so much for letting me know.’
‘He’s heading for an afternoon nap now. Anyway, you can get on with your day without fretting about him.’ Bridgette felt a wave of guilt when she realised she hadn’t even had time to worry about Harry and how he was doing on his first day at crèche and a wave of sadness too when she found out that, no, neither had Courtney rung to find out.
‘Hi, Carla.’ She gave the phone to Nandita, and as she walked back into her patient’s room she heard Dominic’s voice. If he had looked tired that morning then he looked exhausted now. ‘Hi, Frank.’ He shook the other man’s hand. ‘Sorry that it’s taken so long to come and speak with you. I’ve been very busy with your daughter and another child who was delivered yesterday. I wanted to take the time to have a proper talk with you both.’ He sat down next to the bed. ‘Carla, you’ll remember I spoke with you yesterday.’ He didn’t bog them down with too much detail. Apparently yesterday he had explained the risks of such a premature delivery and he didn’t terrify them all over again. He told them their daughter’s condition was extremely serious, but there was some good news. ‘She seems a little further on than first estimated. I’d put her well into twenty-five weeks, which, though it’s just a few days’ difference, actually increases the survival rates quite dramatically. She’s got size on her side too,’ Dominic explained. ‘Even though she’s tiny, she is a little bit bigger than we would expect at twenty-five weeks, and she’s had the benefit of the steroids we gave yesterday. She’s a vigorous little thing, and she’s doing absolutely as well as can be expected.’
‘When can I see her?’ Carla asked.
‘I spoke to Dr Hudson before I came down, and as much as we know you want to see your daughter, you’re not well enough at the moment.’
‘What if…?’ Poor Carla didn’t even want to voice it, so Dominic did.
‘If her condition deteriorates, we’ll sort something out and do our best to get you up there.’ He glanced over at Bridgette and so too did Carla.
‘Of course we will,’ she said.
‘But right now the best you can do for your baby is to rest and get well yourself.’ He answered a few more questions and then turned to Frank. ‘You should be able to see her for a little while now. I’ve told them to expect you.’
‘I’ll get Nandita to walk you up,’ Bridgette offered.
‘Lunch?’ Rita suggested as Bridgette walked over to speak with Nandita. ‘Emma will take over from you.’
It was a late lunch, and as Bridgette hadn’t had a coffee break, it was a sheer relief to slip off her shoes and just relax for a few moments. Well, at least it was until Dominic came in and sat on the couch opposite and unwrapped a roll. He gave her a brief nod but did not make any attempt at conversation, instead choosing to read a newspaper. It was Bridgette who tried to tackle the uncomfortable silence.
‘I thought you were in Sydney.’
‘It didn’t work out.’ He carried on reading the paper for a moment and then finally elaborated a touch. ‘The professor I would be working under was taken ill and has gone on long-term sick leave—I didn’t really care for his replacement, so I’m just waiting till something I want comes up, or the professor returns. I’m here for a few more weeks.’
He sounded very austere, such a contrast to the easy conversations they had once shared. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t even read his paper, just sat and ate his roll.
Couldn’t he have done that on NICU or on the paed ward? Bridgette thought, stirring her yoghurt. If he was going to sit there all silent and brooding, couldn’t he do it somewhere else? Surely it was already awkward enough?
For Dominic, in that moment, it wasn’t awkward, not in the least. He was too busy concentrating on not closing his eyes. Fatigue seeped through him. He’d had maybe six hours’ sleep the entire weekend and he just wanted to go home and crash. Thank goodness for Rita, who had noticed his pallor and given him a spare cold patient lunch and suggested that he take five minutes before he saw the baby he had come down to examine, as well as speaking with Frank and Carla. Rebecca, his intern, came in. Bridgette recognised her from that morning, and then a couple of other colleagues too, which should have broken the tension, but instead Dominic ignored everyone and made no attempt to join in with the chitchat.
And later, he didn’t look up when she had no choice but to sit and join him at the nurses’ station to write up her notes before going home.
He told, rather than asked, Rebecca to take some further bloods on a baby born over the weekend, and then when one of the midwives asked if he’d mind taking a look at some drug orders, holding out the prescription chart to him, he didn’t take it. Rather rudely, Bridgette thought, he didn’t even look up.
‘Is it a patient of mine?’
‘No, it’s a new delivery.’
He just carried on writing his own notes. ‘Then you need to ring the doctor on call.’
The midwife rolled her eyes and left them to it, and the silence simmered uncomfortably between them, or at least it was uncomfortable for Bridgette.
‘I’m sorry this is awkward.’ She tried to broach it, to go ahead and say what was surely on both their minds, to somehow ease the tension, because the Dominic she had seen today was nothing like the man she had met, and she certainly didn’t want to cause any problems at work. ‘Had I known you were still working here, I wouldn’t have…’ Her voice trailed off—it seemed rather stupid to say that she’d never have taken the job, that she wouldn’t have come back to the unit she loved. But had she known he would be here for a little while more, there might have been a delay in her return—with Jasmine being away she was completely out of the loop as to what