One Tiny Miracle... (6 page)

‘Did you hear from your mum and dad?’

‘Yes.’ She tried for upbeat but didn’t manage to come close. ‘They sent some money…’ He could see her red nose, see the swirl of tears in her eyes despite the smile.

‘And when…’ Ben cleared his throat ‘…do you see your obstetrician again?’

‘Next Wednesday!’

It was only Friday.

‘When did you see him last?’

‘On Tuesday.’ Still the smile remained, but it was wavering now. ‘If my blood pressure is still up they’re going to admit me.’

‘No protein in your urine?’

‘No protein…’ He was trying to be a doctor, trying to assess her practically, only it wasn’t working. He knew they would be carefully monitoring her for pre-eclampsia, knew she was being watched, only he wanted her watched more closely, and as coolly as he tried to assess the facts, detachment wasn’t working.

‘You’ve got a lot of fluid, Celeste,’ he pointed out.

‘I know. I’m allowed one gentle walk a day, and I’ve cut out salt as well as sugar…They’re watching me, Ben.’

And with that he had to make do.

Only he couldn’t.

‘Why don’t you ring and get your appointment brought forward? I could take you there now,’ he offered.

‘Ben,’ Celeste interrupted, ‘thank you for all the lovely things—and thank you to your sister too. When I’m able, I’ll get her a card.’

And with
that
he had to make do.

‘
H
I
C
ELESTE
!’ He gave a tight smile as she came over. The whole street had come out to watch the auction and Celeste had bypassed her gentle walk on the beach today and wandered down for a look—it was what people in Melbourne did on a sunny Saturday afternoon when a house was up for auction.

‘Hi.’ She was polite and said hello and then bypassed him, but Ben halted her.

‘You’re supposed to be resting.’

‘I’m walking around a house instead of a beach!’ Celeste pointed out. ‘Anyway, I’ve got cabin fever. I’m going crazy being stuck inside the unit and at least they’ll have the air-conditioning on in the house.’ And then she gave him a smile. ‘Thanks for yesterday, by the way.’

‘No problem. I’m glad it’s all going to good use.’

‘I meant the doctor pep talk. I rang my obstetrician and they’re seeing me on Monday now.’

‘That’s wonderful.’

‘I’m going home to pack my case after this—I have a feeling they won’t be letting me out.’

Then she moved on, wandered inside with the rest of
the crowd, and when Ben’s eyes should have been on the competition, instead they were on her.

He wanted her.

As he walked around the house, stared into rooms, walked through the garden. It was Celeste’s comments he wanted, not the real-estate agent’s, and she gave plenty.

It
was
stunning. Her entire unit could fit neatly in the lounge, and Celeste was quite sure that if she could just lie on that lovely white sofa and gaze out at the water till Monday, with someone peeling grapes for her and massaging her feet, her blood pressure would be down by her doctor’s appointment!

She loved viewing houses, wandering around them, pretending they were hers, and wishing it could be so. The kitchen was a hell-hole, though, but the agent steered them past it quickly and on to view the upstairs. The whole place was to die for—every room in the house, even the master bathroom, was angled for water views!

‘There are no blinds,’ Celeste pointed out, and Ben smothered a smile, because when he’d first looked around the home, he’d said exactly the same thing, only the agent hadn’t ignored him! ‘How can you have floor-to-ceiling windows in a bathroom and no blinds?’ Celeste demanded.

‘The glass is treated,’ the agent hissed. ‘You can see out, but no one can see in.

‘Now, moving along, this is the master bedroom!’

‘Divine!’ Celeste breathed as she stepped in. A vast bed was in the centre, and there was a balcony set up with a little table and chairs…

‘Are the windows treated in here too?’ Celeste asked pointedly as the agent sucked in his breath.

She
did
make him smile.

And he
did
miss her.

She was writing on her little list again—just as if she was a serious bidder—and he could see the real-estate agent’s lips purse as she stepped out boldly onto the balcony instead of following the pack back along the hall. ‘Can you keep up, please?’ the agent snapped, and Ben felt his teeth grind together.

‘This room would make an ideal nursery…’ Despite her obvious condition the agent addressed a loving young couple and ignored Celeste when she asked a question. How she wished she’d won the lottery, and could pull out the winning bid just to wipe that superior smile off his smug face and make him squirm. Ben saw her face redden as the agent ignored her and then caught her eye and gave her a wink.

‘My partner asked a question,’ Ben said coolly, watching Celeste’s beam of delight as the agent practically gave himself whiplash, turning to face her. No, she hadn’t won loads of money, but watching that smug smile leave his face was almost as good.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he simpered. ‘What did you want to know?’

‘Thanks for that.’ Celeste grinned at Ben as they wandered outside.

‘Ooh, it was my pleasure,’ Ben replied. ‘He’s obnoxious.’

Celeste loved auctions—the crowd gathered outside the house, the real-estate agent pumping up the action—
yet she was always scared she’d put up her hand and outbid someone, like standing on the edge of a cliff and wanting to jump, just to try it.

There was some serious bidding going on, and Celeste watched on in glee. This was the most exciting thing to have happened to her all week.

Ben was trying to concentrate, but his eyes kept wandering to her.

He hadn’t put in a bid yet—he would wait and see…God, even her eyelids were swollen. When he should be concentrating, when he should be focusing, instead he was thinking about her, worrying about her—and Ben didn’t like the feeling a bit.

The bidding was slowing down now, the auctioneer having trouble eking out even a small raise in bids—and it was then that Ben put in his first offer.

He saw the flare of surprise in her eyes—she’d had no idea that he would be bidding. It wasn’t something he had to discuss with anyone, Ben told himself, that was the life he had built for himself. Yet still there was a little pang of discomfort, remembering all the nights when she had spoken about her hopes and fears and dreams for the future, and he realised that he hadn’t let her in at all.

The flagging crowd was suddenly interested, and Ben saw her smile. Just a little smile that winged its way over to him, telling him she was pleased.

Excited for him, even.

He was outbid, so he upped his offer.

And again she smiled.

He was outbid again, so he upped it again.

He looked over for her smile, for that bit of encour
agement that he shouldn’t need but somehow liked, and then he saw she wasn’t smiling.

He had been outbid again, the auctioneer passing the bid to him, only Ben wasn’t listening.

There was an aghast expression on Celeste’s face, as if she had just received some shocking news—only there was no one talking to her and she wasn’t on the phone. Her hands were both on her stomach.

He could hear the auctioneer’s warning. Confused, but also needing to get over to her, Ben put in a ridiculously high bid, heard the gasp of shock from the crowd. Ignoring the rest of the proceedings, he waded through the crowd towards her.

‘I think my waters just broke!’

‘It’s okay,’ he said soothingly.

‘No, it’s not.’ She was shivering, shock setting in as realisation hit. ‘I’m only thirty-four weeks.’

‘Thirty-four-weekers do very well…’ He could hear his calm voice, only the blood was pounding in his temples as he pulled out his phone. ‘Come on, let’s get you sitting down. I’ll call an ambulance.’

‘There’s nowhere to sit!’ she shrilled. The sun was suddenly hot on her head, her mouth filling with saliva. ‘Ben, I think it’s coming…’

The real-estate agent had come over to congratulate him, the house apparently his now, but Ben wasn’t listening.

‘We need to get her inside,’ he stated.

‘Excuse me?’ the agent said.

‘Ben…’ She was moaning now, whimpering in terror. ‘I’ve got pain…’

‘She needs to be inside.’ Ben was walking her to the entrance at the side of the house, taking her weight. ‘She needs some privacy…’

‘You can’t just go in!’

‘I just bought the house!’ Ben snapped. ‘She’s about to give birth. Where do you want her to do it—on the street?’ He gave up walking her then and picked her up—and such was his authority that the real-estate agent actually opened the side gate for him. ‘Now, call an ambulance,’ Ben ordered, ‘and tell them it’s a premature baby…’ He had her beneath the willow tree now and she was wriggling out of his arms, already starting to strain. Ben realised with alarm that there was no chance of getting her inside. ‘And say there’s a doctor in attendance.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’ The man he had waved to each morning, the man he had just bought a house from, was now there, being practical and helpful. ‘Some towels,’ Ben said as his wife rushed off and he struggled to be calm, to be professional. It was a delivery, he told himself, he was more than capable of dealing with that. Only he could see her terrified eyes…

‘I need you to listen to me, Celeste.’ He had pulled down her panties and examined her. The baby wasn’t waiting for the ambulance, it wasn’t waiting for anything…‘This
is
a small baby, so we’re going to try and slow it down.’ It was important that they did so, as a rapid delivery could cause damage to the fragile brain. ‘You’re not to push,’ he warned Celeste. ‘We want this to happen as slowly and as gently as we can…’

She had never been more petrified—the thought of her baby coming so soon and here, no hospital, no shiny
equipment…Yet she was suddenly desperate to bear down, to push, only Ben was telling her to just breathe through it, to resist this desperate urge—and she knew why. ‘It’s too fast…’

‘Your body will have been preparing for this for hours, you just didn’t know.’ He smiled. ‘We just need to slow down this last bit.’

He was right. All morning she had felt restless—trying to lie in bed, to read, to rest. She’d had a shower and then gone back to bed, then decided to go and look at the auction…

‘It’s coming,’ she moaned.

It was. Nothing was going to slow down her baby’s entrance to the world, and she was so glad Ben was here and terrified that he might not have been.

‘What if I’d been at home, what if…?’

‘You’d have coped!’ Ben cut short her what-ifs. ‘And you’re coping well now.’

‘I’m sorry we’re not talking.’ She panted with the effort of not pushing. ‘I’m sorry to do this to you…’

‘I’m glad to be here,’ Ben said, ‘I’ve done this pl—’ He didn’t continue, as he’d just seen that the cord was around the neck, but not tightly, and he slipped it over. Only it wasn’t just that which had halted his words. Yes, he had delivered babies over the years, yes, he had done this plenty of times before.

Just not like this.

Not like this, with his heart in his mouth, as he held a tiny head in his hand and guided a pale life into the world.

Not like this, as he delivered the babe onto Celeste’s stomach, rubbed at its back, flicked at its feet. He knew
it would breathe, the doctor in him knew that it had only been a minute, but for Ben it was one very long minute, the babe floppy and cyanosed, its heart rate tipping almost low enough that if it went down further he would have to commence CPR. He could hear Celeste’s pleas and they matched his thoughts, willing the ambulance faster with oxygen for this little one. He turned the baby over, its back now on Celeste’s stomach, and felt his head lighten in relief as the tiny baby startled and took its first breath.

‘It’s not crying,’ Celeste sobbed.

‘She will,’ he promised.

‘She?’ Ben was no midwife—maybe it should have been for mum to find out herself, except the baby was too fragile and sick for anything other than practicality.

‘You’ve got a daughter,’ Ben said, ‘and she needs to be kept warm.’ He kept the little one on her mother’s stomach, and wrapped them both in towels, relieved to finally hear the sirens.

‘I got some string….’ The woman who had got the towels had been busy and had the ambulance not been pulling up Ben would have cut the cord then. He was seriously worried at the babe’s lack of response. She was breathing, but with effort, little bubbles coming out of her mouth with each breath. The paramedics were straight onto it—suctioning her little airway, even the tiniest oxygen mask swamping her tiny features as Ben clamped and cut the cord.

‘We might radio through…’ The paramedic looked at Ben, a quick decision being made between them without words—to attempt IV access and work to sta
bilise her here, or to scoop and run and get her to the hospital which was just a short drive away, depending on the traffic?

‘Let’s get her to hospital,’ Ben said, and the paramedic nodded, wrapping her up in towels.

‘We’ll send another vehicle for Mum,’ the paramedic said.

‘No, I want to go with her…’ Celeste was sobbing, shivering and shaking, stunned at the speed of it all.

‘She needs to get to hospital quickly.’ Ben’s voice was kind but non-negotiable. ‘Can you stay with Celeste for a moment?’ He spoke with the woman who had been so helpful. She had brought pillows and blankets from the house now and was doing her best to make Celeste comfortable. ‘I’m going to help them get the baby settled in the ambulance and then I’ll be back.’

‘No,’ Celeste sobbed. ‘Go with her. Please.’

There was a flash of confusion at his own thought process then, only he didn’t pursue it—there wasn’t time. He nodded his acquiescence and held the infant as the ambulance sped them the short distance to the hospital. Her little lungs were filling up with fluid and Ben held the oxygen mask close to her face, but allowing room for the paramedic to suction. There was a little probe attached to her ear and her oxygen saturation was low but not dire…

The ambulance swept through the streets, slowing down at High Street, which was filled with Saturday shoppers and weekend drivers, and Ben felt his tension rising as it braked and accelerated, the siren blasting out.

Then he looked beyond the mask and the flaring nostrils and he saw the creamy vernix-flattening dark
curls, and navy eyes that were nowhere near able to focus, except he felt as if she was looking straight at him.

It was a bizarre moment of connection, and it was Ben who tore his eyes away first.

He was only the doctor.

This baby’s mother was just a friend…

Then the hospital was in view, and he could see Belinda waiting outside. As the ambulance opened he didn’t hand the little one over, but ran inside to Resus with the precious bundle—the resuscitation cot warmed and waiting, paediatricians and Raji there, and only then did he hand her over…

And only then did he realise how terrified he had been. A cold sweat was drenching him as he saw the urgency in the assembled staff, and he knew that this was no overreaction. He saw how very sick this little baby was and he was unable to speak for a moment as he struggled to get his breath.

He headed over to the sink as the paramedics gave the handover, and Ben took a long drink directly from the tap, before walking back to where they were working.

Raji had placed a tube down her nose and was suctioning her airway more deeply, the paediatrician had just inserted an umbilical line and fluids were now being delivered. She looked a touch more feisty than she had, her face scrunching in displeasure, little fists bunching and legs kicking a small protest…