Seduction In Sydney. Fiona McArthur
each task.
‘One thing to go,’ Emily said. ‘I know we’ve been attacking you from both sides, but now I have to pop a catheter into your bladder before the surgery. When they reach the uterus, if the bladder isn’t completely empty and flat, there’s a small risk it could be damaged.’
Helen nodded. ‘The sooner it’s done, the sooner we go. I read the book you gave me on Caesareans, so I’ve got a bit of an idea what’s happening.’
Emily ticked off the last of the list. ‘Lovely. But just ask if you need to.’
Within minutes everything was done. The orderly came back, Emily handed over the keys for the ward to Lily, and they were on their way.
After the epidural was inserted in the anaesthetic bay they pushed Helen through into Theatre and the first person Emily saw inside was Marco—but that may have been because he towered over the others.
He had his head back and was chuckling at something he’d said to the attractive theatre sister. The sight sent an unfamiliar ache through her chest and she glanced back at her patient. ‘You okay there?’
When she looked up Marco was by their side and he introduced the man who’d followed their trolley in.
Marco gestured. ‘This is our head of paediatrics, Teo Kauri, Helen. Teo’s standing by for the arrival of your daughter and he’s brought Dr Luke Williams, our plastic surgeon, and a bevy of neonatal nurse specialists so your baby will be in very good hands.’
Helen nodded, a little tearfully, and Marco squeezed her shoulder. Emily thought briefly of Lily back on the ward. Luke and Lily were such a perfect couple, and Luke was introducing himself to Helen with that special smile that Lily raved about.
She was in very good hands, Emily thought to herself, and couldn’t help the tiny prayer she sent for her own little granddaughter, who had already benefited from these amazing people. After transfer to the operating table Emily held Helen’s hand as the next twenty minutes crept by. Marco gently incised his way down to the uterus, a little more slowly than usual because of the fragile oomphaceal, but still Emily wished it was over. No doubt Helen was a hundred times more impatient than she was.
Emily heard the sound of the suction as the amniotic fluid surrounding baby gushed out, to be captured and removed by the suction tubing. So they’d reached the amniotic sac.
‘Not long now.’ She squeezed Helen’s fingers and watched the neonatal specialists prepare to receive her baby.
The oomphaceal, a greyish-looking balloon on the front of the baby’s tummy, wasn’t quite as big as Emily had imagined but still it was shocking in weirdness.
Helen’s eyes were darting as her imagination tried to make sense of the quiet conversations that were going on. Then Marco’s voice. ‘Your baby is breathing well and—’ He was interrupted by a lusty wail as Helen’s baby decided she didn’t like being handled by these people.
Everyone laughed with relief and Emily blinked away her own tears. She didn’t have a hope of not being affected by the moment. Distantly she heard Marco murmur quietly, ‘This is good.’
‘Our baby is okay?’ Helen was craning her neck. ‘Charlotte. We’re calling her Charlotte. Charlotte is okay?’ Her voice quivered and then the team pushed the neonatal trolley closer and Emily moved out of the way so Mum could reach out and touch her daughter’s hand. From the angle she was lying Helen could see the big unfocussed eyes of her daughter as she blinked at the bright lights. The tiny hand closed over her mother’s finger and held on tightly.
These were the moments Marco savoured. The naming of a baby. The beginning of a life. Despite the bizarreness of the protruding balloon of organs, this baby would be okay. The mother’s fears would be allayed over the coming days, and all would be well.
He saw Emily wipe her eyes and then scoot around the edge of the crowd and snap photos for Helen, and he had to smile at her concentration. But, then, to look at Emily was to smile—and he would do better to put his head down and get on with his work.
But this was a moment he’d always doubted he would ever share with a woman. Many times he had been the outsider but this time he felt closer to the baby than usual. Perhaps it was the fact he had shared the moment with Emily.
Helen’s baby was whisked off to the neonatal intensive care unit and Emily and Helen left Theatre an hour later via the NICU. Helen’s husband, Ned, arrived just in time to accompany them, and Helen burst into tears with relief.
Teo came across as the trolley was wheeled in. ‘Hello, there, again.’
‘This is Ned, Charlotte’s dad.’ Emily introduced the anxious father and Teo shook his hand. Then he bent closer to Helen. ‘Congratulations, you two.’ He grinned. ‘Except for her decision to wear her tummy on the outside, Charlotte looks great.’
They all smiled at that and Helen almost sagged into the bed with relief. Teo went on. ‘Because she’s four weeks early as well as the tests she needed to undergo, she’ll be there for at least a week or two—maybe a little longer if anything crops up. But from our early examinations and tests Charlotte looks good.’
Such a relief. Emily felt her shoulders loosen and she sighed as she smiled. Ned reached down and kissed his wife and Emily turned away to give them some privacy. Such a different birth to experience but so fortunate the team had everything well under control.
‘This is good!’ Marco had appeared beside her and she looked up at him. This time she didn’t care about the tears in her eyes as she shared her joy.
‘It’s great news.’ She turned to Helen’s husband. ‘Ned, this is Dr D’Arvello. He’s the obstetrician who operated on your wife.’
The two men shook hands. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’
‘My pleasure. It is very rewarding when there is such a good outcome as there is with Charlotte.’ He glanced at Emily. Suddenly the impact of not being a part of any family slammed into him. Was he happy with that? Not having what this man in front of him had? What even Emily had with Annie. For ever?
‘I will leave you in the very capable hands of the sister and see you later on the ward,’ he said, and walked away.
The night passed swiftly after that. Marco came back briefly to check to see his patient was settled and comfortable and to impart the information that despite Charlotte’s IV running well she was sucking happily on her fist.
Emily glanced at the clock and wondered again at how he managed with such a full schedule. She’d just happened to look for his next theatre list and saw it commenced in six hours. She left him to his conversation and went back to the desk to clear up the paperwork involved with the birth and there was a mountain of forms to keep her mind occupied.
She didn’t hear him approach and Marco took a moment to just soak her in. Her cap of hair was across her face, her shoulders bent over her work, and he could see the curve of her neck that continued to entrance him. His obsession was becoming troublesome.
She brushed back her hair and held it away with her hand and he could see the frown across her forehead. ‘You look worried. Anything I can help with?’
Emily jumped. Looked up and tried not to let him completely destroy her concentration. ‘You could go to bed.’
He opened his mouth to say the obvious thing, smiled instead, and they both knew what he’d been going to say.
‘Well stopped,’ Emily said primly.
‘But still thought of.’ His smile melted any resistance to loss of concentration. She was a basket case.
‘Goodnight, Emily.’ He turned and walked away and she watched his broad back disappear up the corridor.
She sighed.
‘What was that sigh for?’ Lily plonked the torch up on the shelf after another ward round.
‘Nothing.’ Emily