or twisted, or blocked.
She nodded and stood by his side, aware of his closeness, listening to his sensible instructions and trying not to think too much about how close they had been and how this was going to be the first baby she’d held since Samuel.
He’d been bigger than Bailey. Full-term, almost. Bailey seemed tiny in comparison and she didn’t want to hurt him.
When the moment came she picked him up reverently, as if he was a precious Crown Jewel she was transferring to a safe, holding her breath until the transfer was done and she’d smilingly laid him in his mother’s embrace.
Sam’s face lit up with joy. ‘Hello, little man. It’s Mummy.’ She glanced up with happiness, her eyes welling with tears as she looked to Ellie and Logan with gratitude. ‘Thank you so much!’
Ellie could have stood there all day, feeling all the feelings, just watching this mother with her precious son, experiencing that moment. There was nothing else like it. Such a powerful image...a mother holding her child.
She’d had a similar moment herself, only hers had not been tinged with joy but with grief.
Feeling her own tears well up, she hurriedly blinked them away, wiping her eyes just in case.
* * *
Logan saw Ellie try to hide her tears and he was rocked to his core, fighting the urge to hold her. To comfort her. The Ellie he’d known had never been so emotional or sentimental. She’d been determined and strong, batting away the troubles of life with a confident smile on her face and a you can’t hurt me shield.
It was something he’d always admired about her—especially when her father had become sick and needed that heart transplant. He’d marvelled at her stoic attitude, amazed at her strength as her father’s health had continued to dwindle until the call eventually came to say that there was a heart for him.
Back then he would have crumbled under such similar circumstances, but thankfully his parents had been blessed with fine health. Something they were taking full advantage of now, in their retirement years, travelling the globe. The last he’d heard from them they’d been in Bali and had sent him a postcard of the beach there.
Perhaps it was this place? The NICU? It was a stressful environment for anyone to be in. No one wanted their family to need to come here. No one wanted to see babies covered in wires and needing machines to breathe for them, or tubes to feed them. He had to fight the feeling to reach out and wrap his arms around her and soothe her upset.
Trying to remember his own first day on the NICU, Logan thought back to his own emotions and feelings and recalled how apprehensive he’d been, how fragile the babies had seemed, how complicated it had all looked. Had he wanted to cry? No, but...
Then there’d been the day that Rachel was born. And he’d had to come here. Not as a doctor, but as a parent...
Perhaps instead of soothing Ellie, he ought to be toughening her up?
‘Ellie, could I have a quick word outside?’
He turned to leave, squirting his hands with antiseptic gel as he did so, rubbing the alcohol cleanser into his skin and waiting for her to join him. His heart was thudding, and he knew he’d sounded stern, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Her being here had thrown him into turmoil.
Ellie closed the door quietly behind her and looked at him questioningly.
‘I know this is a difficult place to be,’ he said, searching for the right words, not wanting to come across as harsh. ‘But it’s best for everyone if the medical staff—doctors, nurses and assistants—maintain some kind of emotional distance.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’
He almost didn’t hear her whispered reply, so determined was he to make sure that she understood. ‘You can’t get attached in here. You can care—just not too much. Or a job like this could destroy you. Do you understand?’
She frowned. ‘Is that how you do it? By being emotionally distant?’
Was she referring to now? Or to the past? He couldn’t quite tell. One way it would seem like a genuine enquiry, the other like a slight. A comment on an inherent fault in his being. But he refused to apologise for either.
‘It’s the only way to survive. So why don’t you take a moment to regroup and then join me in Bay Two? There’s a case of gastroschisis I think you should see.’
He watched her go, wondering. Had he been too sharp? Too terse? He didn’t want to be. Having her back with him like this was...wonderful.
It reminded him of how much he’d missed her.
* * *
Ellie stared at her reflection in the mirror, angry at herself for allowing her weakness to escape. She wanted to blame Logan, but she couldn’t. She’d wanted him to treat her like any other medical student and he was. He was simply doing his job, and if she’d got emotional in any other ward her mentor would have advised her to maintain her distance there, too.
No. This was her own damned fault. Her own damned emotions. She slammed her hand against the sink in frustration, shaking her head, keeping eye contact with herself as she gave herself a really good telling-off.
Get a grip! You’re stronger than this. Do you want Logan, of all people, to think of you as incapable?
Nothing had ever been able to bring her down like this. Nothing!
Until Samuel. And then something had changed within her. The floodgates of emotion had opened and it seemed that now every little thing could bring her to tears. Films, books... Emotional adverts—especially all those Christmas ones that told a little story. Or the ones begging for money for starving children, or children with no clean water to drink. Something about their faces... The sorrowful music... The silent tears that spoke of a pain that couldn’t be heard. She felt it all like daggers in her heart, making her feel useless and hopeless. Weak and pathetic.
Her mum had told her she would change when she became a mum herself and she’d been right.
Ellie grabbed a couple of paper towels and dabbed at her face until it was dry. Then she took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. To calm down. She couldn’t afford a moment like this again.
‘Right, then, Ellie. You can do this, all right?’ she said aloud, and out of nowhere came a memory of something she’d read about standing in the ‘power pose’. Wide-legged stance, hands on hips, shoulders back, chin raised. Like a superhero. How it could instil belief and confidence.
So she did that for a moment, because it was easier than having to do some kind of haka, which would have been noisier and slightly more embarrassing.
Her reflection smiled back at her.
The power pose was working.
* * *
Accepting his place at medical school had been a double-edged sword for Logan. His unconditional offer from Edinburgh had been fantastic, but it had also been difficult. Becoming a doctor was all he’d ever wanted to do. His parents were doctors, and he’d known he’d wanted to
