‘Lie very still now,’ the technician warned as she took the probe in a smooth sweep across the pale skin of her lower abdomen.
Ella couldn’t see the screen from her position so had to content herself with watching Seth’s expression.
He started off with his dark brows drawn together to form a deep furrow above his nose as he concentrated on the shadows and blurs that the screen would display. At one point he murmured something to the technician, his grey eyes piercingly intent as he pointed at something on the screen, and Ella found herself holding her breath.
In spite of the number of people in the room and the hum of the equipment, she was certain she could have heard the proverbial pin drop while they waited for the verdict. When he straightened up and turned to face Mira again the expression on his face had hardly changed but some sixth sense told her that the news was going to be good.
‘I don’t think you’ve ever seen one of these scans before, have you?’ he began conversationally, pulling the trolley full of electronic gadgetry over slightly so that his patient could see the picture on the screen more easily without having to move her position.
‘This is your uterus,’ he continued, tracing the outline on the screen. ‘And this dark tadpole, just here, is your baby. The head is smaller than the width of two of your fingers and from the top of the head to its little rump is less than the length of your little finger.’
They all heard Mira swallow before she could force herself to speak, her eyes glued to the tiny shadow on the screen.
‘Is it still alive?’ she whispered fearfully, clutching so tightly to her husband’s hand that his fingers were turning white. He seemed to be too engrossed in the screen to even notice.
‘See for yourself,’ Seth urged with a nod to the technician to run the scan again. ‘That was a still frame you were looking at, while this is what is happening inside you while we’re looking at it. Can you see that little fluttering movement?’
‘Yes,’ they agreed breathlessly, still without taking their eyes off the screen.
‘That’s your baby’s heart beating inside you, and the last time I checked an ultrasound, only live babies had hearts that beat that strongly.’
Mira burst into tears, but this time they were accompanied by a tremulous smile. Ella was hard put not to join her, concentrating on wiping up the jelly and righting Mira’s clothing while she regained her composure.
‘So why was she bleeding?’ Mira’s husband finally asked, obviously very close to tears himself.
‘We might never know,’ Seth admitted candidly. ‘Most people don’t realise that only one in six of normally conceived babies ever survive to birth, and the proportion is even lower for assisted pregnancies like yours. But if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that Mira just lost the twin.’
‘The twin?’ he echoed, obviously too befuddled to think clearly.
‘You remember that we put two embryos back in when we did the implantation?’ Seth prompted patiently. ‘It’s possible that both of them actually started to grow, but that one of them has just failed for some reason.’
‘What about the one that’s left? What are his chances?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not in the business of fortune-telling,’ he said as kindly as he could. ‘All we can do is wait and see.’ He glanced back at Mira who was now gazing at the print the technician had made for her of that little tadpole with the beating heart.
‘I’d like to keep her in overnight,’ he added softly for the husband’s ears. ‘I think she’ll probably be calmer knowing we’re close at hand, even if there’s really nothing we can do at this stage.’
It didn’t take long for the arrangements to be made and even though Ella had never met the woman before, she found herself crossing her fingers that this story would have a happy ending.
Seth had obviously been called to the department from some other task, but there was no sign that he was in a hurry to return to it. In spite of the fact that he had already done his part in explaining what was going on, he waited in the unit until Mira had been settled into bed.
‘Make sure you get a good night’s sleep, now,’ he warned when he stuck his head around the door. ‘Stress won’t do any of you any good and, with any luck, you’re going to need every bit of your strength when that little one arrives in another six months.’
He glanced at Ella and her pulse gave a silly skip at the intensity she saw in those clear grey eyes, especially when they lingered for an extra moment.
‘You can page me if you’re worried about anything,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t think there’ll be any problems, but I won’t be far away if you need me.’
She nodded, but even before he disappeared down the corridor she was silently kicking herself. There might have been a special intensity in his gaze when he’d looked at her but it was obviously purely as a result of his concern for his patient. There was nothing personal in it at all.
‘That’ll teach you to let the attraction get out of hand,’ she muttered crossly to herself as she set the examination room to rights. ‘Just because there are lights, bells and whistles going off inside you whenever he’s around doesn’t mean that he feels the same way. Grow up!’
The trouble was, these were all the symptoms of growing up that she’d missed out on when she’d been a teenager. She’d seen her classmates and even her sister go through the clammy hands, racing pulse and gooey eyes stage over the boys without ever suffering a hint of it herself.
Unfortunately, it looked as if she was coming down with a massive case of it now.
‘If you’ve finished in here, would you like to see if you can do anything with this?’ Carol asked, hefting the scruffy-looking cardboard box in her arms.
‘It depends what “this” is,’ Ella said, taking a wary peep inside the flaps. ‘Oh! Christmas decorations! I’d almost forgotten how close it was getting. I’d be delighted to have a go. Any guidelines?’
‘Well, the hospital usually puts a big tree up in the main reception area and threads lights through the ones either side of the entrance outside. They give us a smaller one for the central reception area dividing the two halves of this unit but it’s up to us to do the decorating of that and the wards. That box you’re holding is the treasure trove of almost every bit of tatty tinsel from the first Christmas since the hospital opened this wing.’
‘It doesn’t look as if there’s enough in here to make a cheerful show in one room, let alone the whole department,’ Ella said with a grimace. The closer she examined it, the tattier everything appeared. It also seemed as if it had all been squashed flat when it had been piled in the box at the end of last Christmas.
‘Well, I’ll leave it all in your capable hands,’ Carol said, beating a suspiciously hasty retreat.
‘Gee, thanks!’ Ella muttered as she made her way to the staff lounge, wondering what on earth she was going to be able to achieve with so little to work with. Some of their patients were in for such a long time for bed rest that they would need the department brightened up for the festive season. It was bad enough to endure months of uncertainty with
