A Proposal to Remember

Up on the labour ward it was organised chaos, as usual.

‘We’ve got two women labouring on the antenatal ward at the moment because we’re full up here,’ Diane told her as she gave Zan a quick hand-over. ‘It looks as though your Vicky might deliver quickly, and frankly I hope she does because we need the space.’

‘Always nice to work in such a relaxed environment,’ Zan quipped, making her way along to Room 6.

She pushed open the door. ‘Vicky, this is great—just what you wanted.’

‘It doesn’t feel great at the moment,’ Vicky panted, her face white with pain. ‘One minute I was Christmas shopping in town, minding my own business, and the next my waters break and suddenly I’m standing in a puddle in agony. I thought labour was supposed to be slow, but the midwife who admitted me told me that I’m already seven centimetres dilated.’

‘And how are you coping?’ Zan washed her hands and checked the CTG machine which provided a read-out of the baby’s heartbeat and the mother’s contractions.

‘Well, all things considered, I’d rather be having lunch with the girls,’ Vicky confessed, groaning as another pain hit her.

‘Use the gas and air,’ Zan instructed, encouraging Vicky to lift the mouthpiece. ‘That’s it. Well done.’

She put a hand on Vicky’s abdomen and felt the strength of the contraction.

When it finally passed Vicky sagged back against the cushions, limp with exhaustion.

‘OK, that’s it. I’ve had enough. When can I go home?’

‘Soon.’ Zan gave her hand a squeeze. ‘You need to start breathing in the gas and air at the beginning of the contraction. If you wait until it’s really taken hold then there’s no chance of it working.’

Vicky sighed. ‘Nag, nag.’

‘That’s me.’ Zan checked the foetal heart-rate and gave a nod. ‘It’s all looking good. Is the gas and air enough for you?’

‘Well, I’d actually like a general anaesthetic,’ Vicky said dryly, ‘but I don’t suppose that’s on offer, is it?’

‘Not today. Where’s Andrew?’

Zan had met Vicky’s husband at the last group of antenatal classes she’d run and knew that he was keen to be at the birth.

‘He’s on his way in. Oh, here we go again…’ Vicky screwed up her face and started to breathe in the gas and air, her eyes tightly shut.

Zan encouraged her gently, watching the monitor to check that the baby’s heart-rate wasn’t affected by the contraction.

‘I really, really want to push,’ Vicky gasped, dropping the mouthpiece and grabbing the sides of the bed.

Zan frowned. Could she possibly have dilated that quickly?

‘I just need to examine you again,’ she said, washing her hands and dragging on a pair of sterile gloves. ‘I don’t want you pushing unless you’re fully dilated.’

Two minutes later she looked at Vicky with a stunned expression on her face. ‘Push away. You’re obviously trying to do this in record time.’

She pressed the buzzer to summon some help and at that moment Andrew hurried into the room, looking out of breath and worried. Diane followed close behind him.

Vicky gave a sob of relief. ‘I thought you weren’t going to make it.’

‘I didn’t know you were planning to do it so quickly,’ Andrew said, the strain evident in his face as he dropped his parcels by the door and went straight to his wife. ‘You told me first labours always took hours.’

‘Well, you know I like to be different.’ Vicky gave another groan as another contraction hit her.

Zan encouraged her quietly and after several pushes the baby’s head was delivered.

‘The head’s out now, Vicky,’ Zan told her as she waited for the shoulders to rotate. ‘Your baby will be born any minute.’

But the shoulders didn’t rotate.