Seduction In Sydney. Fiona McArthur
sometimes it is better to wait to deliver the baby and perform the surgery ex utero.’
Annie was chewing her lip. ‘So can we wait for my baby?’
‘Those cases depend on the foetal problem. Your baby is twenty-six weeks old, too young for the risk of premature labour or delivery, too old to be left much longer before damage cannot be reversed, and so we move on to the next alternative.’
He picked up the large envelope of ultrasounds and crossed to the light projector on the wall to clip up the dark images.
They all moved to fan around the light source. ‘Foetoscopy would be my preferred option in your case. Or Fetendo—like the child’s game—because the instruments are controlled while watching a screen and are less than a pencil width in diameter.’
‘Neat.’
‘Si.’ He smiled, the room lit up, and Emily felt like grabbing her sunglasses from her bag. Probably just because working permanent nights made you sensitive to light.
Marco pointed with one longer finger. ‘Your baby has a narrowing of the neck of the bladder.’ He circled the darkness of the bladder on the film. ‘In simple terms, the door to releasing urine from the bladder has closed almost completely and the kidneys are swelling with the retained fluid. I would have wished to perform this surgery at least four weeks ago for maximum protection of your baby’s kidneys.’
Emily felt she had to explain. ‘We’ve only just found out about my daughter’s pregnancy. This is the first scan she’s had. It’s all been a bit of a shock.’
Understatement. And not just the pregnancy. Disbelief that her daughter had fallen into the same circumstances as herself had paled when they’d discovered Annie’s baby was at risk.
Emily’s fierce protective instinct embraced this tiny new member of their family wholeheartedly because already she loved this little dark gnome on the ultrasound films.
‘Si. So we will schedule surgery as soon as possible. I believe the repair can be achieved by foetoscopy under ultrasound imaging.’
He smiled at Annie. ‘The instruments are fine and require a very small incision.’ He glanced at them both under dark brows. ‘Tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow?’ Annie’s squeak made Emily’s hand slip across the distance between them to squeeze her daughter’s cold fingers.
‘It’s okay. Better have it done as soon as possible for baby.’ She looked at this man they were entrusting Annie and her baby’s future to.
His strong profile and unwavering eyes somehow imbued the confidence she needed that these risks were worth it. ‘Do you think much damage has been done to baby’s kidneys already?’
He tactfully shrugged his broad shoulders and their eyes met and held. She could feel his compassion. His understanding of her fear.
They both glanced at Annie. ‘We wait. It will be difficult to tell until after the operation. Hopefully the amniotic fluid volume will increase as the bladder is allowed to empty. That will be a good sign.’
He looked at them both. ‘And in a few months, after the birth, there will be tests to give a true indication.’
Marco watched the young woman to see if she realised there was still doubt on the final outcome. They did not intrude on the dark sea of the foetal world without good reason. Annie’s eyes, glistening green like her mother’s, were glued to his face. ‘So the procedure is safe for my baby?’
Ah. She began to comprehend and this part of it he could reassure her on. ‘I have performed foetoscopies many times, and while you must be aware of the risks—your own anesthetic, your baby’s analgesia, which we administer to prevent the procedure causing pain, and the risk of premature labour I spoke about before—to not perform this surgery would ensure a poor quality of life for your child, with extremely damaged kidneys.’
Annie gulped and nodded. ‘Yes. I see.’
Perhaps he had been too blunt? ‘I do not say these things to frighten you, but for you to know I believe this needs to be done, and as soon as possible.’ He touched Annie’s shoulder reassuringly. ‘Do you understand?’
Annie glanced at her mother and nodded her head ‘Okay. But I don’t want to know any more. Let’s just get it over with, then.’
‘Si.’ He moved to the door and they both stood up. ‘I will arrange this now.’ He glanced at the notes in his hand. ‘I have your mobile phone number and will confirm the time Annie is to arrive tomorrow morning. You live together?’
‘Yes.’ Emily nodded. ‘How long will she be in hospital?’
He pursed those sinfully chiselled lips and Emily diverted her glance quickly away to watch her daughter. ‘The risk of premature birth is still present so at least forty-eight hours. My secretary will arrange for Annie to have an injection to help mature her baby’s lungs should premature labour occur. This will be repeated tomorrow before surgery. If we have to open the uterus, her stay in hospital would be almost a week.’
Emily glanced back, careful to avoid looking at his face, stared instead at his collar and nodded. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’
Marco looked at Annie. ‘You are sure you have no other questions?’ All mulishness and bravado had fallen away and Annie looked what she was. An apprehensive young woman scared for her baby.
‘As long as my baby will be all right, Doctor?’
‘Please, call me Marco. And your baby’s wellness is our goal. Bene. I will see you tomorrow.’
Annie stiffened her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘Tomorrow.’ She nodded, resolute. Now he admired her. No doubt her courage came from her mother. ‘Thank you, Marco.’
The mother, Emily, just smiled and followed her daughter. No doubt this woman’s whole life revolved around the girl, which would explain why there was an imbalance of power for the teenage years. He watched them walk away and readjusted his thinking. The daughter wasn’t too bad. Just stressed. And if his child had required what hers did, he’d be stressed too.
He tried not to think about the mother. Because he really wanted to think about her. A lot.
But she did not look the kind of woman to have an affair, a liaison for just a month, while he worked in Sydney.
Unfortunately, after such brief exposure, her image was burned into his brain. Miss Cooper. Emily. Green eyes and vulnerable wisdom.
Emily went to work that night, like she had so many nights before over the last sixteen years, though times had changed in the last decade as she had progressed in her career. Now she was in charge of the ward at night, instead of being the junior nurse.
She could have risen higher but she chose night work because night duty meant the only person who suffered was her.
Because Gran, dear Gran, the only one in her family who had unconditionally loved her, had supported her, and in the past had minded the sleeping Annie while Emily worked.
Gran was gone now, Annie was certainly old enough not to be minded, and though Emily had almost come to terms with having a grandchild, she hadn’t really come to terms with the fact her daughter had had unprotected sex at sixteen.
Would that have happened if she hadn’t worked nights? Who knew? After all those conversations!
The ward was quiet so far—unlike her mind. She set the scales beside the prepared bed for the impending transfer from a regional hospital and pulled the BP machine close to hand for when their patient arrived. Her thoughts roamed as she taped the name badge to the bed.
The new patient was under Marco D’Arvello as well. So they had an influx of foetal surgery now?
She shook her head.
‘Is something wrong?’ Lily, her colleague and friend, touched her arm and Emily gathered