‘Don’t worry about it.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders out of his coat. ‘How do you feel about a home birth?’
‘Nervous?’
‘That’s not very flattering.’ He teased her as he stripped off his jumper and pushed up his sleeves. ‘I’m an obstetrician. This is my territory.’
‘No, it isn’t.’ She closed her eyes and shifted her position, ready for the next pain. ‘You deal with complications. This is supposed to be a normal birth. You obstetricians don’t know anything about normal births.’
‘Well, I’m sure I’ll struggle through and if it all seems a bit bewilderingly normal, I’ll just have to turn it round and deliver it as a breech.’
Despite the pain, she managed a laugh. ‘You’re mad, do you know that?’
‘Relax, Miranda. Everything is going to be fine.’ He stroked her hair away from her face with a gentle hand and then switched into consultant mode. ‘Another contraction?’ He took her hand and eased her into a better position, talking to her gently until the wave of pain receded. Then he tried both phones again and shook his head. ‘Nothing. Miranda, I think I’d better examine you. I need to know how many centimetres dilated you are. If this baby is about to arrive, I need to boil kettles and do all the other useless and pointless things they do in the movies.’
It was impossible to panic in the face of his humour and confidence.
‘You can’t examine me, it’s too embarrassing. Oh, Jake…’ She screwed up her face and sobbed w
ith pain. ‘Is it supposed to feel like this? It’s agony.’ Another pain hit and she was hit by a wave of nausea. ‘I feel sick…’
He reached for a decorative ceramic bowl and placed it in front of her. ‘Don’t worry about it, just keep breathing.’ His voice was calm and steady. ‘Miranda, I think you’re in transition.’
He was behaving like a cool professional while all she wanted was for him to hug her and tell her that he loved her. But she’d sent him away, hadn’t she? She’d told him that she didn’t want him in her life.
She grabbed his hand and closed her eyes. ‘I’m scared—’ She broke off as another pain hit her and he waited for it to pass and then gently disengaged himself and stood up.
‘Where are you going?’ There was a distinct note of panic in her voice and he gave her a reassuring smile.
‘For some reason unknown to me, I have a sterile cord clamp in my car so I’m going to fetch that and then I’m going to wash my hands. I think I’m about to deliver a baby.’
She closed her eyes with a groan of denial. ‘I can’t believe this is happening.’ Then she gave a gasp. ‘Jake! I want to push. Oh—I can feel the head.’
‘Don’t push until I’ve washed my hands.’ He strode out of the room but was back moments later with an armful of towels and sheets.
‘I can feel the head, Jake.’ She grabbed his hand again, ‘I’m scared.’
‘There’s nothing to be scared about. Miranda, I just need to take a look and see what’s happening.’ His voice was gentle and calm and suddenly she wasn’t embarrassed any more, she was just worried.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
‘It’s far too quick! Don’t let anything happen to the baby. What if the cord is round the neck? What if there’s something wrong with the foetal heart and we don’t even know because I’m not on a monitor?’ The words came out in a rush and she broke off as another pain hit and the desire to push was so intense that she could do nothing except follow the instructions of her body.
‘The head’s coming now, Miranda. Stop pushing. Stop pushing, angel. Pant, that’s right… Good girl. Everything’s fine.’
She closed her eyes tightly and tried to get her breath back but then another pain swamped her and her body pushed the baby out and into Jake’s waiting arms. The baby howled angrily and Miranda sat back with a rush of relief.
‘Is the baby all right?’ She felt completely shocked by the speed and violence of it all. If Jake hadn’t been there, she didn’t know what she would have done.
‘Not a baby. A little girl, and she seems absolutely fine.’ Jake’s voice was strangely flat. ‘She’s beautiful. Well done.’
He placed the baby carefully in her arms and she stared down at the tiny, perfect features with wonder in her eyes. The howls turned to whimpers as the baby nuzzled Miranda’s breast.
‘Good idea.’ Brisk and businesslike, Jake settled himself into a more comfortable position. ‘Feed her, Miranda, if you can. I don’t have any drugs with me. Nothing to help your uterus contract so we’re going to have to do this the way that nature intended as well. Physiological third stage. Feed her. It will help your uterus contract.’
Some women opted to have a physiological third stage, but Miranda knew that the risks of bleeding were greater and understood why Jake was now paying her more attention than ever. He was worried that she might bleed and he had no access to a telephone.
He was a doctor doing his job.
And he didn’t seem at all interested in the baby.