Page 39 of Prognosis Do Over

Lou couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The baby was coming now?

Now! She so wasn’t ready for this.

The nursery wasn’t done, and the clothes weren’t bought, and she hadn’t read the books on labour and child-rearing, or written a birth plan.

‘But I haven’t even written a birth plan,’ she said to Bree, as if that would make all the difference. As if Bree would say, Oh, well, that’s different. You’re not in labour any more. Go home.

‘Most people’s plans usually go straight out the window anyway,’ said Bree, unfazed.

A contraction tore through Lou, and she sat on the edge of the bed, wanting to scream it hurt so much.

Birth plan — get through birth without murdering anyone.

‘So what happens now?’ Lou asked when the grip had eased, pushing herself off the bed.

Bree laughed. ‘The fun part. You push the baby out.’

Lou looked at Bree, then at Will. ‘No.’ She shook her head wildly. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t.’

‘Lou,’ said Will quietly, ‘you are the strongest woman I know. You can do this.’ He walked towards her slowly. She looked like a scared animal, sitting in the headlights of a truck, waiting for the inevitable. He didn’t want to spook her. He closed in and gently held her shoulders.

Lou shook her head, not quite able to comprehend what he was saying or that she was actually in labour. ‘I’m not ready,’ she said to him, her expression dazed.

‘Sorry, babe,’ Bree said. ‘You don’t get to choose. Babies are like that. I’m going to call your obstetrician, and alert the resus team.’

Bree left the room and Lou shivered. Will pulled her into his arms and she was grateful for the warmth. The resus team? Of course. They would attend in case the six-week premi baby needed help with its breathing. P

lease, no. Please let it be okay.

She leaned into him, and then tensed in his arms as another contraction took hold. He murmured softly into her hair, rocking her, and rubbed her back until it eased. It felt like heaven to be this close, even in the middle of labour. She’d always felt safe in the circle of his arms, his chest warm and hard beneath her ear, the reassuring thud of his heart booming to a primal beat.

Bree came back in again with some paperwork, and sat quietly and unobtrusively filling it out. After she’d completed it she orientated both of them with the room. ‘There’s a shower through here,’ she said, opening a door. ‘Would you like to use it, Lou? The heat on your back or under your bump is good for the contractions. They sound like they’re getting worse,’ Bree added.

Lou nodded. They were. And she had planned on using the shower at some stage. ‘I don’t know...not yet.’ Lou didn’t know what she wanted. The contractions were really biting and lengthening, lasting for quite a while.

‘We haven’t talked pain relief,’ Bree said. ‘Have you thought about that?’

Lou shook her head and held on to Will’s shoulder as a contraction swamped her. She breathed hard and dug her fingers into the flesh of Will’s arm. ‘I thought I had another six weeks to think about it,’ she gasped out.

Thoughts of Jan flashed into her mind, and Lou wondered what her beloved sister would say. The sudden pain in her chest almost contended with those dilating her cervix. Jan’s baby was about to come into the world, and she was never going to see its precious, darling face. The despair she had felt on hearing about Jan’s death swamped her again, and the unfairness of life almost brought Lou to her knees.

Will felt her grip on his arm ease. ‘What do you reckon, Lou?’ he asked. ‘You can’t go on like this.’

‘I don’t know,’ she said wretchedly. ‘I want to do what’s best for the baby.’ She looked up into his face, feeling more desolate now than she had that terrible day the police had been on her doorstep.

Jan. I miss you.

She pushed away from him, feeling as if she was failing Jan, but a contraction rocked her and she stopped, clutching at his just-in-reach shirt. It eased slowly and she released him, wandering around the room, too churned up to stay still.

Help me, Jan. Please help me. I’m scared. I want to do the right thing and give your baby the best start in life. But it hurts so much. Not just in my body, but in my heart, and I wish you were here. I hope you know I’m going to look after your precious baby.

Memories of Jan flooded her. Like the time she had taught Lou to ride her bike, and then patched her knee with a plaster when she’d fallen off the first time. And Wendy, her favourite doll, and Mittens, Jan’s tabby kitten, who had slept with her every night. And the day Jan had got her braces. And her driver’s licence. And her graduation.

And the day she’d met Martin for the first time. And their wedding. And how excited Jan had been when she’d first fallen pregnant. And the devastation of the miscarriage. And the utter wonder in Jan’s eyes when she had said yes to the surrogacy. And her sister’s tears when the pregnancy was confirmed.

As Lou paced the room, stopping every couple of minutes, interrupted by a contraction, she could feel the lump of emotion in her chest getting bigger and bigger. It just wasn’t fair. Jan and Martin were good people.

Had been good people.

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