It opened, and the student midwife entered carrying a plate of buttery toast. ‘Ah, thank you. You’ll probably feel much better when you’ve eaten something.’
Lorna smiled her thanks, even though she’d given up adding fat to her food more than three years ago. Future cholesterol issues seemed very insignificant right now.
The door shut and Ellie continued. ‘An amniotic embolism is where the amniotic fluid is forced into the mother’s bloodstream. As I’ve said, it’s incredibly rare, and usually fatal for both mother and baby.’
But not this time. This time the baby had survived. Lorna picked up a triangle of toast and took a bite.
‘Your niece is a little miracle. Baby Drummond, as we’ve been calling her, was born by emergency Caesarean section at 5:06 a.m. on the 26th. We’ve estimated her to be at about thirty-four weeks’ gestation, but Vikki didn’t seem to have had any antenatal care anywhere.’ Ellie looked down at her notes. ‘Baby scored three in the Apgar test—’
Lorna didn’t even try and understand what that meant. Three out of what? Five? Ten? She could tell from her friend’s expression that it wasn’t good.
‘But she’s now holding her own beautifully, and I imagine she’ll be discharged towards the end of the week. Maybe sooner. She really is doing that well.’ Ellie looked up. ‘Lorna?’
Lorna looked up too, with a start. ‘I’m sorry. I was trying to work out if I knew where Vikki might have been thirty-four weeks ago.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve got no idea. No use, am I?’
‘Concentrate on what you can do.’ Ellie smiled gently. ‘I think you need to see baby. She’s beautiful. You’re going to love her.’
From a distance. That was all she was capable of. She was all cared out. Surely Ellie knew that?
‘She’s a really good birth weight for a prem baby. Her biggest difficulty has been that she suffered severe birth asphyxia.’
Lorna tried to concentrate on what Ellie was saying, but it was desperately difficult. She obediently washed her hands once more, and walked towards the small ward of maybe six incubators. Or were they called cots? Plastic cots.
And only two were filled. ‘This is Benjamin. He weighed two pounds fourteen ounces at birth, and is a real fighter. And this,’ she said moving along one, ‘is your niece.’
Lorna looked down at Vikki’s baby.
It was unbelievable. Her sister’s baby. Tiny. Hands so perfect. Skin almost translucent.
‘She wouldn’t be in Neonatal now if Vikki was here to look after her. She really has done tremendously well.’
‘Does she have to have the tube up her nose?’ Lorna asked, feeling… overwhelmed. By everything.
‘It’s a nasogastric tube. A feeding tube. If there are no complications I expect it’ll be removed in the next twenty-four hours. She’s taking all her feeds by hand now.’
A sharp pain ripped through Lorna’s head once more.
Vikki’s baby. There were photographs of Vikki with the same mop of dark hair. A small bundle of potential.
‘Do you know what Vikki wanted to call her?’
Lorna shook her head. She’d no idea. None. How awful was that? They’d never once discussed what they might call their children. Never talked about favourite names.
She couldn’t even do that for Vikki. She felt tears prickle behind her eyes.
‘No? Well, that was a silly question, really, if you didn’t know she was pregnant. But she needs a name, all the same.’ Ellie looked up from the sleeping baby. ‘What are you going to call her?’
‘Me?’
‘She can’t be Baby Drummond for ever.’
Lorna’s hand moved to rest against her stomach. A name? Vikki would probably have chosen something slightly alternative. Maybe Delilah… or Lola? Or…?
Her mind was a complete blank. She might not be the earth mother figure everyone was hoping for, but she wanted to get this right. A name stayed with you for life.
‘Choose something you like.’
‘Katherine.’ Her voice was husky. She’d no idea where that name had come from. Pulled from somewhere deep within her. ‘I’ll call her Katherine,’ she said, more firmly.
‘Nice.’ Ellie reached for a pen and wrote ‘Katherine’ on the notes hanging off the end of the bed, then leant over the cot. ‘Hello, Katherine. Your auntie is here, and you’ll soon be going home.’
‘She can’t go home with me.’ Lorna’s voice rang out, overloud. She hadn’t meant it to sound like that.
Ellie unbent and looked at her.
‘I—I want to make everything lovely for her. I do. But she can’t live with me.’
‘Lorna—’
‘I don’t know anything about babies.’ Her voice rose in a mixture of panic and desperation. ‘I’ve never even held one, and—’
‘There’s nothing that needs to be decided this moment,’ Ellie cut her off. ‘Don’t rush it. I’ll put you in touch with all the interested parties. Decisions can come later. Much later. You’ve got a lot to adjust to.’
But Lorna knew better. You couldn’t grow up with someone, share their secrets, and not know that if their situations had been reversed Ellie wouldn’t have hesitated. Katherine would have had a home, been loved.
‘There are lots of options for Katherine’s future. You’ll need to think carefully about them all. It’s important we get it right. She’s already lost her mum. That’s a tough start for anyone.’
Lorna glanced back at Katherine. She was sleeping. Her right hand was curled into a fist and resting against her cheek. ‘What will happen to her?’
‘If she doesn’t have a relative to take care of her, you mean?’
Lorna nodded.
‘Most probably she’ll be fostered while everyone makes every effort to find one.’
And if there aren’t any? Lorna didn’t need to ask the question out loud.
‘Eventually she’ll be put up for adoption. But not until everyone is certain her father isn’t going to step forward and claim her. There’s plenty of time.’
It was what she’d thought she wanted. All the way over on the plane. But it felt different when you were faced with a person not an ‘it’. Lorna brushed her hair back off her face, feeling the heat and the stress. Pain thumped through her temples. If she could just sleep. She was sure everything would be clearer then.
‘Did you come in by taxi?’ Ellie asked, watching her.
‘Yes.’
