Page 38 of Prognosis Do Over

‘Dr Galligher?’ a nurse said to him as he reached the nurses’ station, looking at his scary hair. ‘Lou?’ she said, her eyes widening even further as she came around the counter and saw Lou and her half-hacked hair.

‘Bree,’ Lou said, holding out her hand and squeezing the midwife’s fingers when she took it. ‘It’s the baby. It’s coming. It’s too early, Bree. You have to stop it.’

Bree looked at Will and raised her eyebrows.

‘Her membranes ruptured about ten minutes ago. She’s having continual contractions.’

‘How far along are you now?’ Bree asked calmly, crouching in front of Lou.

‘Thirty-four weeks. I mean it, Bree. You have to help me.’

‘Let’s check you out,’ said Bree gently, rising from her squat.

Will followed Bree into a birth suite and helped Lou out of the chair and onto the bed. Bree snapped on some gloves and started to help Lou undress. ‘Ah...I’ll go, then...I don’t want to...I’ll hang around for a while outside.’ He didn’t want to go and leave Lou with no one, but he was unsure of his role or what she wanted from him.

‘No,’ said Lou, looking up from derobing in a panic.

Please don’t leave me.

A contraction hit her and she stopped, breathing through it, needing him with her. Needing his strength to get her through the next harrowing hours. ‘I want you...to stay...please...please stay.’

Will’s heart swelled with love. ‘Of course,’ he said, coming over to the bed and taking the hand that was gripping the side of the mattress. ‘Squeeze this instead.’

Bree helped Lou into a gown, and then did an exam. Will held her hand and kissed it absently, stroking her forehead soothingly. He was totally oblivious to her bad-hair-day appearance. He only saw Lou, the girl he loved.

Not the bizarre half-done haircut, but the woman who was having her sister’s baby, trying to be brave, but scared out of her mind.

‘Maybe if I’m not dilated they can give me some ventolin to stop the labour?’ Lou said to him, trying not to tense up.

Will knew full-blown labour when he saw it, and he knew this baby was coming now. But he just smiled at her and kissed her hand and said, ‘Maybe.’

‘You’re six centimetres,’ Bree announced, pulling off her gloves.

Will shut his eyes and shook his head. He had so wanted to be wrong.

‘What?’ said Lou, pushing herself up onto her elbows so she was half sitting. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Check again. That can’t be right.’

‘Lou,’ said Bree quietly, ‘it’s right.’

Lou struggled to get all the way up, and Will helped her. ‘But I need you to be able to stop it, Bree,’ she said, trying to not let the hysteria bubble to the surface.

‘I’m sorry, Lou,’ the midwife said gently. ‘This baby wants out.’

‘But my membranes only just ruptured,’ Lou said incredulously.

‘Have you been having contractions before this?’ asked Bree.

Lou shook her head. ‘Just Braxton Hicks.’

‘Regularly?’

‘They’ve been getting more constant.’

‘Any backache or diarrhoea?’

Lou nodded. ‘Both, over the weekend.’

‘I’d say you’ve been grumbling along in labour for a couple of days.’

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