Her face was twisted in pain as another contraction hit her, but she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, her skin glowing with the promise of impending motherhood. The contractions were still more than 5 minutes apart, so there was time to move her to the Maternity Unit and get her gowned and prepped. I was hovering, getting in the way, trying my best to stay out of the way, but trying to be involved at the same time, until the midwife pulled me to one side and dressed me down properly.
“Look, Dr. Morgan, it’s quite simple; you can be the attending, in which case you can deliver this baby, and I’ll go and have a coffee; Oh yes, you’re not an obstetricianor a midwife, are you? Okay, that means you have no business being down at this end, so you get up by your wife, talk to her, help her, hold her hand, anything, just stay the hell out of my way, and keep your trap shut. Are we clear on where you want to be now? Good, now leave us to do our job and you make yourself useful and help your wife get comfortable!”
I slunk back to Lena’s side, feeling foolish at being told off like an officious 8-year old, and Lena’s grin didn’t help matters any, either! Her grin quickly faded, replaced instead by a grimace and a gasp of pain as another contraction rolled through her; I looked at my watch and noted that it was five minutes since the last one, and also of longer duration. Her hand grabbed mine convulsively as the full strength of the contraction made itself felt. It swept through her for something over 30 seconds, then died away and her breathing eased.
“Dar,” she tugged me closer, “Remember when I used to make fun of all those women in the movies, screaming like banshees when they were having babies? Well I’m sorry, I take it all back! Christ, those contractions hurt, it’s like cramp but it just builds up and I can’t stop it! Is it too late to ask for an epidural?”
I had to think before I remembered the procedure.
“Not until your contractions are regular and you’re dilated 5 centimetres, if they give it to you too soon it may slow your contractions, so sorry, baby, you might have to wait an hour or so, maybe more.”
She looked aghast.
“More of this pain, for another hour before they can tell whether I can have pain relief? How long is this labour likely to last?”
Again, I had to think about the average length of labour with a first delivery.
“Uh, Lena, could be eight to sixteen hours, sorry!”
Lena looked rebellious.
“What! Sixteen hours? I don’t bloody think so, get me a doctor, now, and get this baby out of me!”
The midwife looked up at that and grinned at her, patting her gently on her knee as she adjusted her hospital gown.
“Calm down, Lena, it’s standard, right now you’re only in the first stage of labour, so we can’t give you an epidural even if we wanted to. Darryl’s right, you know. If it’s any consolation, your mother was exactly the same!”
Lena looked sideways at her.
“You know mum?” and the midwife smiled.
“Maureen and I trained at Southmead together, we did our SRN together, and I delivered you… and you!” she glanced at me.
“So you know…?” I asked her tentatively, and she nodded.
“Maureen and I have been friends since we were 17 years old, I trained with her, went to her wedding, and delivered her daughter… and her step-daughter’s son, so yes I’ve always known who you were, Darryl; don’t look so worried, Maureen’s my friend, your secret’s safe with me! I didn’t request that I handle this particular birth; it was the luck of the draw, but I’m glad it was me; I delivered Maureen’s daughter, and her son, now I’m going to deliver her grandson, I think it all worked out quite well!”
Poor Lena never got her epidural; there was no anaesthetist available so she had to grit her teeth. Labour lasted an excruciating eight hours, the midwife leaving us alone for most of the time so we could talk, hold each other during the most painful and prolonged of the contractions, and wait for full dilation. Lizzie did hang around for a while, but they wouldn’t let her in the Mother-Baby unit, family or no, so she decided to go home after wringing a promise out of me to call her as soon as baby Morgan made an appearance.
At last the midwife decided her uterus was fully dilated, and Lena began to push in time with the contractions as they came almost constantly now; this baby really wanted to be born, and less than 20 minutes after she began to push, that little body slid out, a shock of dark hair my first impression of my son. The midwife clamped and cut, and her assistant took the baby to wipe him off a little, wrap him, and weigh him, before placing him on Lena’s chest.
“Hello David!” she murmured, and smiled at my raised eyebrow.
“His name’s David Robert Fraser Morgan, do you mind, baby? I wanted him to be part of daddy, and that poor boy as well, if it’s okay with you.”
I smiled; of course I understood; Robert Fraser was my father, nothing could change that fact, and he’d not abandoned me; he’d gone away to fight and never came back, through no fault of his own. If we named our son after him I think that would be a fitting tribute to the boy who’d gone to do his duty and paid with his life. Naming him after dad was always my intention; he was going to be David Morgan II from the second I knew we were having boy, and honouring my biological father was also something I’d considered; trust Lena to anticipate me once again and get it so right. I stroked her cheek and chucked my little boy under his tiny, delicate little chin.
“Of course it’s okay with me; he’s part of both of them, I think it’s right he keeps their names alive. Thank you for thinking like that.”
The midwife came up then and asked me to leave, as they still hadn’t finished with Lena, so I waved as the porter moved her to another part of the unit to finish the rest of the birthing procedure, something I definitely didn’t want to watch. I smiled to myself, wondering if he’d have his mother’s startling violet eyes to go with the chestnut hair he’d already gotten from her, or if he’d have my green eyes. His eyes would be open in a day or so, I’d find out then.
I called mum, telling her Lena had just given birth, and listened while she sobbed down the phone at me, then she put dad on. He of course asked what the baby’s name was, so I told him, and after a moment’s silence he whispered “Thank you son, thank you both!”
I just had time to tell the him we’d be there in a couple of weeks when my pager decided to go off, and I suddenly realised with a guilty start I’d absented myself from Cardio for over eight hours; oh well, if they gave me any flak they could ask the midwife if they wanted, I had a bloody great, iron-clad excuse!
The hospital kept Lena and the baby in for another three days, with Lizzie, the kids, and Emma in virtually constant attendance the whole time she was in, then I was allowed to take her home. I’d asked for, and been granted, three weeks leave of absence to look after both of them while Lena got back on her feet, although so far she’d proved to be surprisingly resilient. The baby was a demanding feeder, and Lena was only getting sporadic bouts of rest, so I felt it was only fair I take care of everything else around the house while we waited for the little one to settle into a pattern.
Lena looked amazing; she’d not really put on any baby-weight around her middle, other than a tiny little curve of ‘mummy-tummy’, so her waistline was hardly affected, and her breasts, swollen with sweet milk, made her look lush and voluptuous; with her long slim legs, taut behind, and over-emphasised decolletage, she looked like a chestnut-haired Betty Page, and I spent all my time around her with an unfeasibly stiff and swollen erection; alas, it was to no avail; eight weeks before we could ‘resume normal relations’, as the obstetrician so delicately put it; eight weeks, with her looking so deliciously desirable? I was nearly bent double while being ready to explode with pent-up desire for her after just 3 days, how the hell was I going to survive eight weeks?