Page 23 of Christmas for the Village Midwife
‘Are you able to come through for a quick chat?’
‘I think so,’ Maisie said. ‘Mum is with the doctor, but…’
‘Lavender will tell her to wait if she comes out before we’re done, don’t worry.’
‘OK.’
Zoe led the way, and Maisie was silent. When Zoe turned at the door to her room, she could see the young woman lookedapprehensive and offered a reassuring smile. ‘There’s nothing to worry about. We won’t be long…take a seat.’
Maisie did as she was asked, and Zoe pulled her own from behind the desk to sit alongside her.
‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you look a bit pale. Are you feeling all right? Not sleeping, perhaps? Something worrying you?’
‘I’m sleeping, but I’m still tired,’ Maisie admitted. ‘Does that matter? Will they want to postpone my scan? You said you wanted to talk?—’
‘I was being a bit sneaky, actually. I wanted to speak to you without your mum there. Can I be plain, Maisie? You look thin. Are you eating properly?’
‘Yes.’
‘Maisie…’
‘I’m not dieting!’
Zoe let out a sigh. Maisie’s denial told her instantly everything she needed to know. They’d had conversations before around the food Maisie was eating and that time the young woman had expressed worries about putting on weight during her pregnancy. It seemed the issue hadn’t been resolved in her mind, despite telling Zoe at the time that it was.
‘Do you mind if I take some measurements? Because I think you look smaller than you should, and I do think you’re thinner than you were last time I saw you. If you’re not cutting down on your food, then it might mean there’s a problem with your baby and I will have to refer you for more specialist care.’
Maisie shrugged awkwardly. ‘I might have been on a bit of a diet.’
‘Oh, Maisie, why?’
‘I was trying to eat all the food you told me to, but I was still getting too fat.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Nobody.’
‘I thought,’ Zoe continued, ‘we’d sorted all that out. You need to eat well, and now is absolutely not the time to be on a diet. Tell me what you’re eating and don’t try to cover anything up.’
‘I don’t know. I eat different things every day. Mum says 800 calories is how much you need to eat if you want to lose weight.’
‘People thought that in 1970 maybe! Nobody gives that advice now, not even to a woman who isn’t pregnant!’
‘But—’
Zoe shook her head. She always tried hard not to patronise the expectant mums in her care, and for the most part none of them needed it, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She could see she was going to have to spell it out for Maisie. ‘You do realise you’re putting yourself and your baby in danger? You’ll be lacking in critical vitamins and minerals, and it has consequences. No wonder you’re so tired; your body is fighting to keep you and another person alive – you need to nourish it, not deprive it…’
Zoe pulled a box of tissues from the far side of the desk and handed one to Maisie. ‘I’m not trying to make you cry; I’m trying to look out for you. It’s my job, but I’d want to anyway because you’re one of my favourite clients.’
‘I don’t mean to keep messing up.’ Maisie blew into the tissue.
‘You’re not messing up, but I wish you’d spoken to me before you’d started this diet business.’ Zoe was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I think,’ she continued finally, ‘that you and I ought to have more contact, so I’m going to ask you to see me a little more often. Not because you’re messing up, but to put my mind and yours at rest. Could you come to clinic a bit more often? Failing that, perhaps we could have phone consultations?’
‘I suppose.’ Maisie dried her eyes. ‘Do you still need to check me now? Only Mum will be waiting.’
‘Could you come tomorrow?’ Zoe asked, fairly certain she had a free slot but deciding she’d make time to see Maisie regardless. ‘We’ll take your measurements and chat a bit more about this diet. I understand you don’t want to put on weight, but we need to have a frank conversation about how you can keep control in a way that is safe for you and baby. Would that be OK?’
‘What time should I come?’
