‘If she feels she can rest,’ Zoe clarified, ‘it means things aren’t quite as hectic as we might have thought and, to be quite honest, it will do her good. If she wants to sleep, then baby can’t be all that impatient to arrive.’
‘I don’t think I’ll be sleeping right now,’ Ottilie said. ‘I’m tired, but…’
‘That’s fine,’ Zoe said. ‘I only thought I’d ask. You can lie down a while here, take a breather between contractions.’
But then Ottilie tensed, grimacing. Heath took her hand, and she gripped it, stoic and determined not to make a fuss but clearly in pain.
‘OK,’ Zoe said. ‘Maybe don’t take a breather. Maybe baby is impatient after all.’
She ducked to examine Ottilie again to see that things were moving faster than she’d have expected for a first baby. Not that anything surprised Zoe much these days – during her time as a midwife, she’d attended just about every kind of birth there was, and even the most typical was never really that. There was always something that went against the grain, that kept her on her toes. It wasn’t a bad thing; it was one of the reasons she enjoyed the job.
Listening to the baby’s heartbeat, she frowned slightly before she looked up at Heath, lowering her voice. ‘Feeling strong?’
‘Not a bit.’
‘Good because I might need as much help as you can give. It’s nothing to worry about, but I think the baby might have the cord around their neck.’ She held up a hand as Heath’s expression transformed into one of blind panic. ‘I said there was nothing to worry about, didn’t I? You trust me, don’t you?’
‘Of course,’ he said, though nothing in his face confirmed his words.
‘It’s more common than you think, but I just need you to be ready with an extra pair of hands should I need them as baby begins to emerge. I should be able to slip the cord free as long as it’s not too tight.’
‘What if it’s too tight?’
‘Then I’ll cut it. Don’t worry, everything will be fine. It’s good that you’re here.’
Zoe put down the stethoscope and studied Ottilie for a moment. What she hadn’t told Heath was that she was far more worried about her friend than the baby. Ottilie was struggling,she was tired and her blood pressure was higher than it ought to be. Not enough for immediate panic, and Zoe was thankful there had been no signs of pre-eclampsia leading up to this point. Despite those reassuring facts, something had gone awry, something that Zoe needed to keep a close eye on.
‘Heath…?’ Ottilie held out her hand for him again, and he rushed to take it.
‘I’m here – don’t worry. Not going anywhere.’
‘Good. Is everything all right?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘All going like clockwork.’
‘Liar.’
‘I’m not lying, I promise. It’s all good, right, Zoe?’
‘Right. You’re doing brilliantly, Ott. How are you feeling?’
‘Like someone about to give birth.’
‘I’m glad to see it hasn’t affected your humour.’ Zoe smiled tightly. ‘You’re close. Tell me when you feel like bearing down.’
‘I won’t need to tell you. They’ll hear me screaming up at Daffodil Farm.’
‘Scream as much as you need to – it’s the one time in your life it’s allowed.’
‘So if I told you it’s now?’
‘Can you make it not quite now?’
‘Make up your mind!’ Ottilie gasped, gripping Heath’s hand so hard Zoe noticed her knuckles whitening.
‘You don’t want to tear, do you? I’m crap at doing stitches.’
‘Never again!’ Ottilie groaned. ‘Not this and definitely not with you as my midwife!’
