Birth in Suburbia, Carol Falaki [electronic reader .TXT] 📗
- Author: Carol Falaki
Book online «Birth in Suburbia, Carol Falaki [electronic reader .TXT] 📗». Author Carol Falaki
/> The doctor had come in to see her after that, and she'd had to endure another internal examination, so he could be sure of her baby’s position. “Your baby’s head is still a little high and needs to move to an anterior position, Helen,” he had told her. “It may be some time before you deliver. Have you thought about having an epidural?”
“I really hoped I was further on, don’t know if I can stand this much longer,” she said. At that moment the thought of an imminent end to the pain of the contractions was like the vision of an oasis in the desert. “What do you think love?” She asked Nigel. “It’s you going through it Helen. I can’t say, but I hate to see you in pain like this. How long is it going to go on?” And so she said “Yes.”
She drifted off to sleep but was woken, not much later, by an awareness of a change in the rhythm of her baby’s heartbeat. Instantly alert, she saw Nigel
had noticed it too. He was standing by the machine. Amy wasn’t in the room.
“Is that all right?” Nigel asked.
“I don’t know, press the buzzer.”
Their baby’s heart rate had slowed down. The machine, which had been reading a steady pattern of 130 to 140 beats, was now recording only 90.
Amy came in and looked at the monitor. She adjusted the drip and then asked Nigel to help her turn Helen onto her side. Gradually the gentle thud of heartbeats gained speed and Amy relaxed.
“That’s better," Amy said. We’ll keep an eye on it for a bit and if it happens again I’ll ask someone to come and check it. She checked Helen’s temperature, pulse and blood pressure. “All fine.”
Amy sat on a stool close to the monitor, and recommended to Nigel that he should try to rest. Nigel obliged her by sitting in his chair and leaning back, but Helen could see he was tense, although he was trying not to show it.
When it happen again about 20 minutes later he catapulted out of his chair and stood behind Amy, willing his baby’s heartbeat to be all right, with all the rational energy he could muster. He leant over and took Helen’s hand, she grasped his tightly. After what seemed like an age, but was probably less than a minute, the heartbeat recovered. Helen and Nigel exchanged glances. They watched Amy turn the drip
off, and then write something on the paper on the monitor trace; Nigel saw it was the time and Amy’s signature.
Amy examined Helen again, although it was only an hour since her last examination.
“Vaginal examinations are usually every four hours if everything is all right, but I just want to see if you have progressed since the last one,” she explained. “Sometimes the baby’s heart drops if there is sudden progress.”
Helen watched her expression carefully while she performed the internal examination, hoping for a miraculous full dilation verdict.
“Eight.” Amy said, “Well done.”
“Well at least it’s not still seven,” Helen replied, wanting it all to be over.
After the examination the baby’s heart rate dropped again. For a full minute a rate of 80 beats a minute was displayed on the front of the machine before returning to 120. Amy left them for a few minutes to go and contact the doctor.
Nigel stood holding Helen’s hand. He kissed her forehead and said, with deliberate conviction: “It will be okay, Helen, try not to worry.”
The doctor arrived. He appeared calm and after a brief acknowledgement, proceeded to study the monitor trace; then he sat where Amy had been sitting and watched it for a few minutes.
Their baby’s heartbeat dropped again, this time not so dramatically. Dr Shah introduced himself and spoke to both Helen and Nigel. “Your baby’s heart trace is showing signs that he or she - do you know if you are having a boy or a girl?”
“No,” Nigel answered sharply. At that moment the sex of their baby was not a concern to him at all.
“Right,” DR Shah continued. “Your baby’s heart trace is showing signs that he, or she, might be getting a little distressed. I say might, because we can’t be sure by just looking at this trace. Because you are progressing now, Helen, your baby may simply be responding to his head being squashed. He addressed Amy: “Is the liquor clear?”
“Yes, it is clear, and I have examined Helen, she’s eight centimetres, minus two, ROP.”
“Okay, now what I’d like to do, Helen, is take a little blood from your baby’s head. That will tell us how well your baby is coping.”
“How do you do that?” Helen asked.
Dr Shah explained: “It’s quite simple. I will use a speculum and a small light to look into your vagina, prick your baby’s head, and collect a few drops of blood from his scalp. Amy will feed the sample into a machine and that will tell us how well oxygenated your baby is.”
Turning to Amy, he said: “Would you get everything ready please?” But she was already on her way out of the door and Nigel could hear her call down
the corridor
“Fetal blood sampling, room three, can someone get the machine ready please?”
“What if the baby is distressed, what then?” Nigel asked.
“If the result shows clearly that your baby is distressed then we would want to perform a caesarean section; if it is border-line, I’ll repeat the same test in half an hour. If the result is okay you can carry on in labour and we’ll keep an eye on you both. Now that you have shown some progress during the past hour, that’s hopeful.” He smiled.
Despite their anxiety Helen and Nigel appreciated a friendly face, and having things explained to them in clear terms. All the while they were aware of the gentle thud of their baby’s heart.
Helen stayed on her side for the procedure, which took about half an hour, during which another midwife ran back and forth with a couple of samples for the machine, which was located somewhere on the delivery suite.
Dr Shah maintained his position at the bottom of the bed, and Amy passed him instruments and cotton wool, while they chatted in a friendly, light-hearted way.
At last the midwife returned with the result. Dr Shah read it and said:
“This result is all right, but only just, so I want to repeat the test again in half an hour, to be sure. In the
meanwhile I’d like to apply a clip to your baby’s head if you don’t mind. We can connect the clip to the heart monitor and that will give a more constant reading of your baby’s heartbeat. We are less likely to lose contact when you move.”
Helen looked at Nigel, and then nodded to Dr Shah. She felt vulnerable and afraid for her baby, but powerless to do anything but trust the medical staff. They were doing this sort of thing every day, so must know the right thing to do.
The doctor and midwife left the room and the baby’s heartbeat appeared stable again so Helen dozed for a few minutes, despite everything, because of the tiredness, which swept over her in great waves
“Where am I going to get the energy to do this?” she asked Nigel. Nigel held her hand and waited, feeling lost. At five forty-five Dr Shah returned to repeat the fetal blood sampling. He appeared satisfied with the result when Amy returned with it, but stayed to talk briefly to Helen and Nigel.
“Amy is going to keep a close eye on your baby and let me know of any concerns she may have. We have started the syntocinon drip again because we need your labour to progress, and will watch how your baby reacts to this. I have great hope that next time you are examined you will be fully dilated.”
“Has my baby turned round yet?” Helen asked.
“Your baby is still posterior, but I hope some good strong contractions will change that.”
It was six forty and Liz was in the shower, still trickling clear fluid, but with no contractions and only a mild ache in her back; it felt similar to the beginning of a period. She was due to go back to the labour ward later this afternoon for a check-up, if nothing was happening by then.
It was too much like waiting for the pot to boil, she thought, and decided to go for a short walk. She left a brief note on the kitchen table and took her mobile phone, making sure it was topped up. She had a couple of spare sanitary pads and some drinking water in her bag.
She took the car to the beach, which was cool and deserted. Except for another early walker and his dog in the distance, Liz saw no one. The sound of the waves was exhilarating and quelled the dark worries of the previous night. She took her shoes off and wandered along the water’s edge, allowing the clement waves to take the tension from her feet and ankles. With each step, soft sand filtered between her toes, gently massaging and soothing her feet. She turned to face the sea and was taken by the beauty of what she saw, sky and sea, and land beyond.
“We’re here,” she shouted and lifted her voice over the horizon. “My baby is coming into the world today. World, get ready for her, she is going to amaze you.”
Overhead gulls screamed at each other, wild and free on the air. The setting moon, full and pale in the morning sky watched silently. During her walk back to the car Liz had her first contraction.
Chapter Fifteen
A Baby at Last
Saturday morning and Debbie was up at 6.45am, drinking tea in the kitchen. She hadn’t slept well. Her baby was due tomorrow and still she had not found the comfort and reassurance from Sean she so desperately needed. Last night she had woken from a nap on the sofa to hear Sean’s muffled voice from the kitchen. He had closed the kitchen door.
“I think it’s better if you don’t call me at home again,” she heard him say.
“You’ve got my mobile number, haven’t you? Debbie is suspicious of something, and I don’t want her to know about this, especially not now.”
When she opened the kitchen door he continued: “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” and replaced the receiver. Then he made her some tea and hugged her, a sure sign that he was feeling guilty about something?
Now her courage failed her and she decided not to ask him about what she had
“I really hoped I was further on, don’t know if I can stand this much longer,” she said. At that moment the thought of an imminent end to the pain of the contractions was like the vision of an oasis in the desert. “What do you think love?” She asked Nigel. “It’s you going through it Helen. I can’t say, but I hate to see you in pain like this. How long is it going to go on?” And so she said “Yes.”
She drifted off to sleep but was woken, not much later, by an awareness of a change in the rhythm of her baby’s heartbeat. Instantly alert, she saw Nigel
had noticed it too. He was standing by the machine. Amy wasn’t in the room.
“Is that all right?” Nigel asked.
“I don’t know, press the buzzer.”
Their baby’s heart rate had slowed down. The machine, which had been reading a steady pattern of 130 to 140 beats, was now recording only 90.
Amy came in and looked at the monitor. She adjusted the drip and then asked Nigel to help her turn Helen onto her side. Gradually the gentle thud of heartbeats gained speed and Amy relaxed.
“That’s better," Amy said. We’ll keep an eye on it for a bit and if it happens again I’ll ask someone to come and check it. She checked Helen’s temperature, pulse and blood pressure. “All fine.”
Amy sat on a stool close to the monitor, and recommended to Nigel that he should try to rest. Nigel obliged her by sitting in his chair and leaning back, but Helen could see he was tense, although he was trying not to show it.
When it happen again about 20 minutes later he catapulted out of his chair and stood behind Amy, willing his baby’s heartbeat to be all right, with all the rational energy he could muster. He leant over and took Helen’s hand, she grasped his tightly. After what seemed like an age, but was probably less than a minute, the heartbeat recovered. Helen and Nigel exchanged glances. They watched Amy turn the drip
off, and then write something on the paper on the monitor trace; Nigel saw it was the time and Amy’s signature.
Amy examined Helen again, although it was only an hour since her last examination.
“Vaginal examinations are usually every four hours if everything is all right, but I just want to see if you have progressed since the last one,” she explained. “Sometimes the baby’s heart drops if there is sudden progress.”
Helen watched her expression carefully while she performed the internal examination, hoping for a miraculous full dilation verdict.
“Eight.” Amy said, “Well done.”
“Well at least it’s not still seven,” Helen replied, wanting it all to be over.
After the examination the baby’s heart rate dropped again. For a full minute a rate of 80 beats a minute was displayed on the front of the machine before returning to 120. Amy left them for a few minutes to go and contact the doctor.
Nigel stood holding Helen’s hand. He kissed her forehead and said, with deliberate conviction: “It will be okay, Helen, try not to worry.”
The doctor arrived. He appeared calm and after a brief acknowledgement, proceeded to study the monitor trace; then he sat where Amy had been sitting and watched it for a few minutes.
Their baby’s heartbeat dropped again, this time not so dramatically. Dr Shah introduced himself and spoke to both Helen and Nigel. “Your baby’s heart trace is showing signs that he or she - do you know if you are having a boy or a girl?”
“No,” Nigel answered sharply. At that moment the sex of their baby was not a concern to him at all.
“Right,” DR Shah continued. “Your baby’s heart trace is showing signs that he, or she, might be getting a little distressed. I say might, because we can’t be sure by just looking at this trace. Because you are progressing now, Helen, your baby may simply be responding to his head being squashed. He addressed Amy: “Is the liquor clear?”
“Yes, it is clear, and I have examined Helen, she’s eight centimetres, minus two, ROP.”
“Okay, now what I’d like to do, Helen, is take a little blood from your baby’s head. That will tell us how well your baby is coping.”
“How do you do that?” Helen asked.
Dr Shah explained: “It’s quite simple. I will use a speculum and a small light to look into your vagina, prick your baby’s head, and collect a few drops of blood from his scalp. Amy will feed the sample into a machine and that will tell us how well oxygenated your baby is.”
Turning to Amy, he said: “Would you get everything ready please?” But she was already on her way out of the door and Nigel could hear her call down
the corridor
“Fetal blood sampling, room three, can someone get the machine ready please?”
“What if the baby is distressed, what then?” Nigel asked.
“If the result shows clearly that your baby is distressed then we would want to perform a caesarean section; if it is border-line, I’ll repeat the same test in half an hour. If the result is okay you can carry on in labour and we’ll keep an eye on you both. Now that you have shown some progress during the past hour, that’s hopeful.” He smiled.
Despite their anxiety Helen and Nigel appreciated a friendly face, and having things explained to them in clear terms. All the while they were aware of the gentle thud of their baby’s heart.
Helen stayed on her side for the procedure, which took about half an hour, during which another midwife ran back and forth with a couple of samples for the machine, which was located somewhere on the delivery suite.
Dr Shah maintained his position at the bottom of the bed, and Amy passed him instruments and cotton wool, while they chatted in a friendly, light-hearted way.
At last the midwife returned with the result. Dr Shah read it and said:
“This result is all right, but only just, so I want to repeat the test again in half an hour, to be sure. In the
meanwhile I’d like to apply a clip to your baby’s head if you don’t mind. We can connect the clip to the heart monitor and that will give a more constant reading of your baby’s heartbeat. We are less likely to lose contact when you move.”
Helen looked at Nigel, and then nodded to Dr Shah. She felt vulnerable and afraid for her baby, but powerless to do anything but trust the medical staff. They were doing this sort of thing every day, so must know the right thing to do.
The doctor and midwife left the room and the baby’s heartbeat appeared stable again so Helen dozed for a few minutes, despite everything, because of the tiredness, which swept over her in great waves
“Where am I going to get the energy to do this?” she asked Nigel. Nigel held her hand and waited, feeling lost. At five forty-five Dr Shah returned to repeat the fetal blood sampling. He appeared satisfied with the result when Amy returned with it, but stayed to talk briefly to Helen and Nigel.
“Amy is going to keep a close eye on your baby and let me know of any concerns she may have. We have started the syntocinon drip again because we need your labour to progress, and will watch how your baby reacts to this. I have great hope that next time you are examined you will be fully dilated.”
“Has my baby turned round yet?” Helen asked.
“Your baby is still posterior, but I hope some good strong contractions will change that.”
It was six forty and Liz was in the shower, still trickling clear fluid, but with no contractions and only a mild ache in her back; it felt similar to the beginning of a period. She was due to go back to the labour ward later this afternoon for a check-up, if nothing was happening by then.
It was too much like waiting for the pot to boil, she thought, and decided to go for a short walk. She left a brief note on the kitchen table and took her mobile phone, making sure it was topped up. She had a couple of spare sanitary pads and some drinking water in her bag.
She took the car to the beach, which was cool and deserted. Except for another early walker and his dog in the distance, Liz saw no one. The sound of the waves was exhilarating and quelled the dark worries of the previous night. She took her shoes off and wandered along the water’s edge, allowing the clement waves to take the tension from her feet and ankles. With each step, soft sand filtered between her toes, gently massaging and soothing her feet. She turned to face the sea and was taken by the beauty of what she saw, sky and sea, and land beyond.
“We’re here,” she shouted and lifted her voice over the horizon. “My baby is coming into the world today. World, get ready for her, she is going to amaze you.”
Overhead gulls screamed at each other, wild and free on the air. The setting moon, full and pale in the morning sky watched silently. During her walk back to the car Liz had her first contraction.
Chapter Fifteen
A Baby at Last
Saturday morning and Debbie was up at 6.45am, drinking tea in the kitchen. She hadn’t slept well. Her baby was due tomorrow and still she had not found the comfort and reassurance from Sean she so desperately needed. Last night she had woken from a nap on the sofa to hear Sean’s muffled voice from the kitchen. He had closed the kitchen door.
“I think it’s better if you don’t call me at home again,” she heard him say.
“You’ve got my mobile number, haven’t you? Debbie is suspicious of something, and I don’t want her to know about this, especially not now.”
When she opened the kitchen door he continued: “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” and replaced the receiver. Then he made her some tea and hugged her, a sure sign that he was feeling guilty about something?
Now her courage failed her and she decided not to ask him about what she had
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