Campbell was supporting the baby’s weight, cupping his bottom. His other hand spanned the tiny chest to slow the delivery while they waited for the next contraction to deliver the head.
Both Claire and Campbell knew that delivering the head was the crucial time and the one most fraught with potential complications. With a normal delivery the head was the first part out, having fully dilated the cervix and vaginal opening to accommodate it. With a breech, the head was the last part to come out, so if full dilatation hadn’t occurred, and particularly if the head was large, the baby could get stuck.
Shirley moaned as another pain contracted her uterus. Graham comforted and encouraged her as he took her weight. Campbell continued to support the baby as the back of the head cleared the birth canal. They could see the nape of the neck now. Shirley cried out as her birth outlet slowly stretched to allow the passage of her baby’s head.
Campbell supported the baby as it slipped out. He stood and placed the newborn in his mother’s arms. Jubilation reigned supreme as the baby wailed lustily. Claire felt hot tears prick her eyes. She let them shine, not caring whether Campbell saw them or not. What a rush! The birth centre’s first birth, and a breech! Shirley and Graham stood in the middle of the room, hugging and laughing and crying.
Putting her excitement aside, Claire covered the wet newborn in a warmed blanket and helped Shirley to the bed. The job wasn’t finished yet. The cord had stopped pulsing so she clamped it and showed Graham how to cut it. She administered an intramuscular injection of a drug that stimulated uterine contraction, and then she delivered the placenta.
Frivolity, excitement and laughter ebbed and flowed around her as Claire completed her responsibilities. Campbell sat on the bed with the new parents, admiring the latest addition to their family. Claire watched him surreptitiously. It was good to see the grin couldn’t be wiped from his face either. It made her own smile even bigger.
A quiet knock at the door interrupted the celebrations. It was Valerie Baines. She was one of the centre’s midwives who’d come in especially today to attend a training course. She’d been out to lunch.
‘Oh! I leave you alone for an hour and you deliver our very first baby!’ she exclaimed.
‘A breech, too,’ said Claire.
‘Such clever people,’ she teased, and joined in the excited gathering, cooing at the baby and congratulating everyone.
‘This requires a celebration,’ Valerie declared half an hour later after the paperwork had been completed and the room put to rights. ‘Let’s crack open that bottle of champagne we’ve been keeping for this occasion.’ She ran off to get it.
She returned with the chilled bottle and five glasses. They clinked them together and toasted the baby—David John Miller. The newborn slept peacefully in his father’s arms. He’d had a tough day, too. They also toasted Claire and Campbell and the birth centre.
‘To you.’ Campbell raised his glass to Claire as Valerie helped Shirley to the shower, husband in tow.
Claire stroked her finger down the soft red cheek of baby David. ‘Ditto.’ She smiled and they grinned at each other like idiots. Claire felt the attraction between them treble. She was in real trouble! ‘You know Martin is going to have a fit over this, don’t you?’
‘Let him,’ he said and laughed. They toasted that as well.
Claire had to admit that working beside Campbell had been exhilarating. She’d seen another side to the man who had pursued her so persistently. The dedicated doctor. Cool and calm in a situation that would have tested most doctors’ mettle. And he wasn’t afraid to get on his haunches to deliver a baby. She felt her admiration for him rise and mix with her burgeoning attraction. The champagne must have gone to her head.
Campbell stared at the very different Claire in front of him. Her cheeks glowed and her brown eyes were as tempting as the expensive chocolates he’d been sending her. For once he could read everything in their sweet depths. She wanted him. It was there, as plain as day. He should have plied her with champagne a month ago.
‘Have dinner with me tonight.’ He held his breath.
‘OK.’ She grinned. Yup. It had definitely gone to her head.
CLAIRE sat beside the bed, holding her mother’s bony, frail hand. Her thumb stroked rhythmically over the papery skin. Right here in front of her lay the reason that a relationship with any man was impossible.
The clock in the lounge room chimed seven, breaking into her reverie. Time to go. She leaned forward and gently kissed her mother’s cheek. Mary didn’t stir.
‘I’d better go, Dad,’ she said, locating her father in his bedroom, watching the evening news.
‘Goodnight, darling.’ He smiled his gentle smile. ‘Claire …’
‘Yes?’
‘I don’t mean to interfere … but … you know you don’t have to come home tonight. I can manage just fine.’
‘Dad,’ she joked in mock horror. ‘You’re not suggesting I spend the night with this man on the first date?’
He smiled, a rare occasion of late. ‘Seriously, darling, it’s been years since you’ve been on a date. I want you to enjoy yourself for a change.’
‘I have to be here in the morning, Dad. She expects me.’
‘She’s not your responsibility, Claire.’
‘Dad … she’s my mother.’
‘You’re young, you’re supposed to be selfish and irresponsible. I can manage.’
‘I know but … she’ll fret if I’m not here.’
‘Darling, she probably won’t even be aware.’ His voice cracked and Claire had to swallow hard.
‘She’ll know,’ Claire insisted. She walked into the room and kissed him on the head. ‘I’ve got my mobile. Call me if you need to. I mean it, Dad. Anything. See you in the morning.’
Claire pulled out of her driveway, her mind preoccupied with her mother’s illness and her father’s devotion. He deserves a medal, she thought as she pulled up at the lights. She chewed absently at the inside of her lip, worrying about the future.
She gave herself a mental shake as the car behind her hooted to let her know that the light had turned green. Her thoughts should be on the evening ahead and Campbell. If she was going to worry about anything tonight, it should be him.
He’d wanted to come and pick her up but she had insisted on going to the restaurant independently.
‘Is that so you can make a fast getaway?’ he had asked.
‘Huh! My plan is foiled,’ she had quipped, and he had laughed and left it alone.
Not for the first time, she admonished herself for her rash acceptance
