As Dominic’s sleek silver car slid past her, she deliberately did not look up, did not want to remember the night he’d driven her to heaven then returned her home again.
She was very close to crying, and that Harry did not need, but finally she found her keys and unlocked the car, opening the windows to let it cool down before she put Harry in.
‘Here we go.’ The car still felt like a sauna but she strapped Harry in, climbed into the seat and looked in the rear-vision mirror at his wispy curls and serious grey eyes. She gave him a very nice smile. ‘You’re ruining my love life, Harry!’
‘WOW!’ Bridgette walked into the delivery room, where Maria was pacing. ‘I turn my back for five minutes…’ She smiled at Maria, who had progressed rapidly in the past half hour.
‘I was worried you wouldn’t make it back,’ Maria said.
‘I’m sorry I had to dash off.’ Harry had been a touch grizzly this morning when she’d dropped him off and had, half an hour ago, thrown the most spectacular temper tantrum, bad enough for Mary to call her on the ward and for Bridgette to take an early coffee break.
‘I know what it’s like,’ Maria said. ‘I’ve got three of my own.’
‘Four soon,’ Bridgette said, and Maria smiled.
‘I can’t wait to meet her.’
‘Neither can I,’ Bridgette admitted. It was, so far, turning out to be a gorgeous labour—especially as it was one that could have been labelled ‘difficult’ because the testing and scans had revealed that Maria and Tony’s baby had Trisomy 21. The diagnosis, Maria had told Bridgette, had caused intense upset between both families—Spanish passion combined with pointless accusations and blame had caused a lot of tension and heartache indeed. Maria and Tony, however, once they had got over the initial shock, had researched as much as they could, and had even met with a local support group who ran a regular playgroup.
‘It took away a lot of the fear,’ Maria had explained, when Bridgette admitted her. ‘Seeing other Down’s syndrome babies and toddlers and their parents coping so well. We’re so looking forward to having our baby. I just wish our families would stop with the grief.’
So upset was Maria with the response of her family that she hadn’t even wanted them to know that she had gone into labour, but with three other small children to care for she’d had no choice but to tell them. And now two anxious families were sitting in the maternity waiting room. Still, Maria was doing beautifully and was helped so much by her husband’s unwavering support. He rubbed her back where she indicated, stopped talking when she simply raised a hand. They had their own private language and were working to deliver their daughter as a team.
‘How are things?’ Rita popped her head around the door. ‘The family just asked for an update.’
‘It’s all going well,’ Bridgette said.
‘Tell them it will be born when it’s good and ready,’ Maria snapped, and then breathed through another contraction. She was suddenly savage. ‘You’d think they were preparing for a funeral more than a birth!’ She let out an expletive or three in Spanish and Tony grimaced, then she told him exactly what she thought of Abuela.
‘Grandmother,’ Tony translated with a smile when Bridgette winked at him. ‘My mother.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘She does a lot for us, but she can be a bit too much at times, though she means well.’ He rubbed his wife’s back as Maria said a little more of what she thought about her mother-in-law. ‘Maria always does this when…’ And Bridgette smiled, knew as Tony did, what was coming. Maria leant against the bed, her face changing to a familiar grimace.
‘I want to push.’
‘That’s good,’ Bridgette cheered.
‘Come on, Tony,’ she said and they both helped Maria up onto the bed. ‘I’m just going to let Dr Hudson know—’
‘No need.’ Dr Hudson came in.
‘How’s she doing?’ Rita popped her head around the door again and Bridgette gritted her teeth, while trying not to let Maria see.
‘Can we get the paediatrician down?’ The obstetrician’s tone was a little brusque and Bridgette saw the flare of panic in Maria’s eyes.
‘It’s fine, Maria,’ Bridgette reassured her as Rita went to make the call. ‘The fact Dr Hudson wants the paediatrician to come down means that you’re getting close now and it won’t be long till your baby’s born.’
‘The paediatrician is on his way,’ Rita called over the intercom. ‘I’ll come in and give you a hand in a moment.’
Bridgette watched as Maria’s eyes closed; as she dipped into her own private world and just tried to block the gathering crowd out. She had wanted the birth to be as low-key and as relaxed as possible, and had three other births with which to compare, but because of the possible health complications, more staff would be present with this one. Though potentially necessary, it just compounded things for Maria.
‘Have you got everything ready?’ Rita bustled into the room. ‘Dominic is just a couple of minutes away.’
Bridgette felt incredibly confident with Dominic. He was an amazing doctor and very astute. However, for Maria, perhaps it was not the best combination of staff. Dr Hudson believed in planning for every eventuality—every eventuality—and Rita was one of those high-energy people who somehow didn’t soothe. Now Dominic, a rather aloof paediatrician, was being added to the mix, except…‘Dominic Mansfield?’ Tony looked over at Bridgette. ‘Is that the paediatrician who’s coming?’ When Bridgette nodded, Tony hugged his wife. ‘That’s good news, Maria.’
‘Bridgette?’ Rita was checking and double-checking everything Bridgette had already done. ‘Have you got the—?’
‘Shut up!’ roared Maria, just as Dominic came into the room.
For once Bridgette was grateful for his silence. He gave Tony a nod as Maria quietly laboured. Dominic took off his jacket and headed to the sink to wash his hands and then tied on a plastic apron.
‘Big breath, Maria,’ Bridgette said gently. ‘Come on, another one…’ The birth was imminent. ‘And then push until Dr Hudson tells you to stop.’ Maria was very good at this. There was grim concentration on her face as she bore down and Bridgette held her leg, relaying Dr Hudson’s gruff instructions but in more encouraging tones. ‘Don’t push now. Just breathe. The head’s out.’
The baby didn’t even require another push. She slithered out into Dr Hudson’s hands, where Rita was waiting to cut the cord and whisk the baby off for examination.
‘Up onto Mum’s stomach,’ Dominic said. ‘Tony can cut the cord.’ Bridgette silently cheered as his calm, authoritative voice slowed the haste.
‘Do you want the baby moved over for examination?’ Rita checked when, again, she didn’t need to. It had been a very beautiful birth, and Bridgette was especially thrilled that Dominic seemed in no rush to whisk the baby off and examine her—instead, he just quietly observed.
The little girl was small and Bridgette placed a towel over her, rubbing her to stimulate her, but she felt very calm with Dominic’s stoic presence so close.
As