Page 40 of Stranded with the Surgeon

‘How old is she?’

‘Ten weeks.’

It was sadly clearly too late for this baby, but they had to go through the motions.

‘Shocking again. Everybody clear?’

‘Clear.’

‘Where are the parents?’ Jennifer had taken over the bag mask ventilation. It took only a gentle squeeze to inflate tiny lungs. The main reason for going through a distressing process like this was to reassure distraught parents that everything possible was being done for their child, but there were no stricken bystanders in Resus 2.

‘The mother’s in a cubicle.’ Doug sounded disgusted as he drew up new drugs. ‘Too drunk to stand up. The father’s being interviewed by the police.’ He watched the compressions on the tiny chest in front of him. ‘She’s seventeen. He’s just out of prison. There was a party going on and apparently the baby was making too much noise. Mother says she put her in their bed and didn’t notice she wasn’t breathing until she woke up this morning.’

Had the infant been inadvertently suffocated, sleeping with an intoxicated adult, or had something more sinister happened earlier in the night? It would be up to the pathologist and police to determine the cause of death, but this was, possibly, an escape from a bleak future for this child. Jennifer glanced at the clock.

‘How long has CPR been in progress?’

‘Forty-five minutes, including pre-hospital time.’

‘I’m calling it, then, if we’re all in agreement,’ Jennifer said heavily. ‘Doug?’

‘Yeah.’ The registrar shook his head, his face grim.

‘Michelle?’

The young registrar just gave a single nod.

‘Suzy?’

The nurse also nodded mutely, her eyes filling with tears.

‘Okay. Time of death 6.47a.m.’ Jennifer’s gaze returned to the infant, a tiny still shape on the bed. She reached to disconnect the ECG electrodes, her heart breaking as her fingers brushed the soft skin. It would be nice to remove the ET tube, but the pathologist would need to confirm its correct placement, and maybe there wouldn’t be a parent wanting to hold this baby immediately anyway.

She had what she knew was a very inappropriate urge to pick the baby up and hold it herself. Just for a minute or two…

‘Dr Allen?’ A head came through the gap in the curtains. ‘They need you in the trauma room.’

‘Be there in a second.’ Jennifer stripped off her gloves. It was better that she had to focus on something else right now. Otherwise the overwhelming sadness would be too much, and she might totally ruin her chances of becoming the head of this department by being seen weeping in a corner somewhere.

She flicked the curtain back to screen the area as she emerged into an already humming department. Straightening her spine, Jennifer set off to deal with the rest of her shift.

She could cope.

She had to.

She was in control of the destiny of more than one person now. Her baby was never going to lie abandoned on some hospital bed. It would be loved and cared for to the very best of her ability. It was a complete shock to be facing motherhood like this, but the urge to protect the baby that was just starting to grow in her womb was, suddenly, astonishingly fierce.

This washerbaby.

She might not have chosen to get pregnant, but there was something else that was vying with the urge to protect this baby. Something she’d never expected to feel – the longing to hold her own child in her arms.

To be a mother.

As the days passed over the next week, tentative ideas became plans.

She would have to leave her apartment, of course. A child needed a real home, with a garden, preferably close to a good school. She wouldn’t be able to manage alone, but that wasn’t an insurmountable problem either. She would be able to afford the best available nannies, especially if she became the head of department.

The upcoming interview had provided several days of anxious focus and had interfered more than a little with her concentration levels, but it, too, settled into the shape of a plan. As long as nobody found out about her condition before the interview, it shouldn’t make any difference. She could always plead ignorance later and blame it on something like an irregular cycle or a lighter than normal period.

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