Pregnant By The Single Dad Doc. Louisa Heaton

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Pregnant By The Single Dad Doc - Louisa Heaton Mills & Boon Medical

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that. She didn’t need him stating the facts of the case as if she were some simpering spinster who thought there might be a chance of romance in the air simply because they’d been in love before.

      It got her hackles up.

      He’d walked her to a locker, where she’d left her things, taking only a notebook and pen with her that she could slide into her trouser pocket if she needed her hands free to perform or assist with a procedure. And now she was almost running to keep up with him.

      ‘What’s the number one reason babies end up in the NICU?’

      Logan was giving her a lightning tour of the unit, asking questions as he went, not giving her any time to linger or think too much. So be it. Fine. She was here to learn. She’d show him how much it meant to her.

      ‘Prematurity.’

      ‘And the number one condition we see?’

      She hesitated and he stopped to stare at her, waiting for a suitable answer. Had his eyes always been so blue? So intense? It was hypnotic to be under his gaze once again.

      ‘Newborn jaundice?’

      He considered her answer but his gaze was still scanning her face, as if he was familiarising himself with her features. ‘Tell me about jaundice. What causes it in a newborn?’

      She didn’t know if it was different for newborns, but when she’d been on a general surgery ward there had been a patient there who had had jaundice.

      ‘Er...high levels of bilirubin?’

      ‘Are you asking me or telling me?’

      ‘Telling you.’

      He nodded. ‘Good. In this place, more than any other in the hospital with maybe the exception of Paediatrics, we have to be clear and firm about our diagnoses when discussing our patients with their parents. They don’t want to hear hesitation. They don’t want to hear doubt. They need to hear confidence and assuredness. Yes?’

      She nodded.

      ‘Okay, so what’s bilirubin?’

      She rifled through the files in her brain, trying to find the most efficient way of delivering an answer that sounded assured. ‘A by-product of the breakdown of red blood cells.’

      He began walking and again she followed fast on his heels, admiring the waistcoat that tightly encircled his middle, his flat stomach, his broad shoulders...

      ‘And how would we notice it?’

      ‘Yellowing of the skin—usually hands and feet. Eyes. Er...dark urine.’

      ‘And what causes it in babies, specifically?’ Now he stopped at a door that led into another room filled with incubators. Behind him she saw a row of them, one or two nurses and a few stressed-looking parents.

      ‘The...er...liver isn’t fully developed in a neonate, so it isn’t as effective at removing the bilirubin from the blood.’

      He nodded. ‘Good. You’ve been reading up for this placement?’

      She let out a breath. ‘As much as I could along with...you know...doing assignments and things.’

      ‘Stay on top of it. It’s essential.’

      ‘I will.’

      She was a little annoyed that he was being this way—telling her what to do, being standoffish and abrupt—but she didn’t want to say anything because he was now her mentor and, quite frankly, she’d had worse. But because of their personal history it niggled that he was the one telling her what to do.

      ‘There are two babies in this next bay with jaundice, both being treated with fibre optic phototherapy. We have blankets that are laced with fibre optic cables, which shine directly onto the babies’ backs. What contra-indications should we be aware of?’

      She didn’t know. There’d not been anything about that in the text she’d read earlier. ‘Um...’

      He answered for her. ‘Temperature needs to be checked, and we must also make sure they don’t get dehydrated.’

      Of course! It was obvious now that she thought about it, and she felt like kicking herself for not knowing the answer in front of him. Her cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t see because he was pushing the door open and showing her where she could wash her hands.

      ‘Right—over here we have Bailey Newport and his mum, Sam.’

      Ellie gave a nervous smile to the mum.

      ‘Bailey is one of a set of triplets, born prematurely at thirty-two weeks. Sam had an emergency C-section, due to the threat of pre-eclampsia, but we only had one free cot, so her husband Tom is with the other two babies at St Richard’s. We’re hoping to get the family together as quickly as we can, but right now it’s impossible to do so.’

      Sam gave them a patient smile. ‘It’s difficult, but we take it in turns to be with each baby as much as we can. I’m expressing, but...’

      Her voice trailed away as she looked down at her son and Ellie felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. Her baby was small. Thin, scrawny limbs, his body covered, it seemed, by wires and tubes. His tiny little hands scrunched up tight.

      Witnessing hurt and pain like this would be the most difficult part of this placement, and she had to grit her teeth really hard and concentrate on her breathing so that she didn’t let it overwhelm her.

      ‘Bailey’s taking his mum’s milk well. He’s one of the babies we have using the phototherapy, but his bilirubin levels are coming down nicely and we hope we can wean him off that soon.’

      ‘That’s good. Have you been able to hold him yet?’ she asked Sam. She knew that was what any new mother wanted more than anything.

      ‘Just the once. Everyone’s so busy...we sometimes don’t get the chance to.’

      Logan looked at her directly. ‘Perhaps you’d like to help Sam hold Bailey right now?’

      ‘Really? I’d love to.’

      ‘Okay, let’s wash our hands first.’

      ‘Ooh! Me too!’ Sam beamed.

      As Sam did that Logan stood on the opposite side of the incubator from Ellie and they looked at each other over the top of it. His hot gaze was full of questions and uncertainty and she wondered what he was thinking? Was he glad that she was here? As his student? Or was he troubled by it? He seemed to be looking at her as if he was really struggling with it.

      She didn’t think she would fall in love with him again. She wasn’t after falling in love with anyone—not after what had happened between her and Daniel. But he could at least look at her fondly, as if he remembered the times they’d shared. As if she was his friend. He seemed to be looking at a space just off to her left now. As if he couldn’t quite meet her gaze directly.

      When Sam had washed her hands, she and Logan did the same and then he showed her how

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