Positively Yours (33 page)

‘Anyway, come on in,' said Grace. ‘This could be the last meal we have together before the baby arrives!'

‘Please God,' said Aidan. ‘I swear if we have to spend any more meals discussing baby names, baby books, or baby equipment I will pass out with boredom.'

‘Aidan Slattery, that's your niece or nephew you are talking about! How dare you?' said Patsy, annoyed.

‘Don't worry,' whispered Grace to her brother. ‘I promise there'll be no more baby-name discussions. We can't decide, so I suspect we'll just have to let the baby choose when it gets old enough!'

The barbecue went well, and while the boys tried to persuade Ethan what rugby club he should now pledge allegiance too, Patsy indulged in a little too much wine, and told Grace how amazing the night of her birth had been.

‘Don't let your brothers know, but there's nothing quite like the birth of your first child. It's always a little bit special, a little more exciting.'

‘I heard that,' said Colm, as he poured himself some more wine.

Ethan would have loved a glass of white wine himself, but Grace had had him under strict instructions not to have any alcohol for the last two weeks. ‘In case I go into labour and need you to be sober enough to drive,' she kept saying.

‘Oh, it's all so exciting. I just wish your father was here to see his first grandchild.'

Grace held her mum's hand.

‘Dad would be so proud of you, Mum. I know how hard it's been without him, but you've been so strong and so active. You haven't let grief get the better of you.'

‘That's because I have all of you, Grace. When you are a mother you don't have time to indulge in your own problems, you have to keep going for the family. For better or worse you need to push your own worries aside and be strong for your children. Without you all I would have curled up and died, but thank God I have my three children. That's why I've always put a little too much pressure on you to have kids. Yes, when you have them your life isn't your own any more! But it's better, fuller, and gives you strength you never knew you had. You'll learn about all this soon, Grace. Very soon!'

Grace smiled. She had never credited her mum with being so insightful. She realized you were never too old to learn something new about your mother.

Two hours later, and they'd decided to move indoors as the sun had gone in and there was a slight chill in the air. As her family drank the end of the wine, Grace had her own craving.

‘God, I'd love a Frosty cappuccino now,' she announced.

‘A what?' asked her mum.

‘Oh it's a type of coffee with ice cream. We had the best coffee house beside us in San Diego. I couldn't start a morning without one of their treats. Starbucks actually do a version similar to the Frosty. I'd really love one now. I might go and get one,' said Grace.

‘Good luck finding a coffee shop open at this time of night in Ireland,' said Colm sarcastically.

Grace looked at the clock and knew her brother was right. Ireland just didn't have the round-the-clock services that the States did. It was another thing Grace missed.

‘That's so annoying. I would love one now,' whined Grace.

Suddenly Aidan sat up. ‘Well, have you got ice cream in your fridge?' he asked.

‘Yeah,' confirmed Ethan.

‘And what about Coca-Cola, or 7 Up?' Aidan asked.

‘Yeah, we have lots of fizzy drinks,' said Ethan. He disapproved of them, but Grace had been craving them lately so he had turned a blind eye to the fridge being stocked high with them.

‘Well, I don't know how to make a Frosty cappuccino, but would you like Dad's special treat? An ice-cream float?'

‘Oh my God, yes!' screamed Grace. She had forgotten all about her dad's speciality. On a Sunday evening when they'd finished their roast and vegetables, Teddy would take out five large glasses and fill them up with a mix of ice cream and whatever fizzy drink they had in stock. Sometimes it was Club
Orange, some days it was Coke. Grace hadn't thought about those treats in a long time.

‘Dad was great at making them,' she said.

Colm smiled. ‘You'll have to pass on the family tradition to your baby. The Slattery ice-cream floats will be tasted by a new generation.'

Grace vowed to make them for her little one.

Ten minutes later they were all sipping on the frothy drinks.

‘Yum,' said Grace and Colm at the same time.

‘Oh, that's cold,' said Patsy, but she was smiling. She felt like her Teddy was right there with them.

Soon Grace's legs and back were aching, and she had to go to bed.

‘We'll head home, pet,' said her mum as she hugged her. ‘Now, sleep well, and I'll see you tomorrow.'

Grace kissed her mum and brothers and was just heading up the stairs when Patsy came running up them.

‘I almost forgot to bless you and the baby,' she said as she pulled a small bottle of holy water from her handbag. She doused Grace and her belly in the liquid.

‘God bless you and keep you both safe,' Patsy said, before going back down the stairs and leaving the house.

Grace smiled, she felt a little more protected already.

Two hours later Grace sat on the bathroom floor crying.

‘Curse Aidan and those ice-cream floats, my stomach is in bits. I think I got a chill into it from the ice cream. I don't feel well,' she wailed, as Ethan rubbed her back.

Ethan resisted the urge to say ‘I told you so' to his wife. He'd never thought the cold and fizzy drinks sounded like a good idea for someone who was about to pop. Instead he passed her a glass of water and listened to her rant.

Half an hour later and Grace still didn't feel well.

‘Oh my God, you couldn't have cooked those burgers properly,' she shouted at Ethan. ‘I told you I wanted mine well done.'

‘Grace, if that burger had been any more well done it would have been a piece of coal. It was all but burnt to pieces.'

Grace nodded her head. ‘My stomach is upset, and considering that burger is the only bit of meat I've eaten all day it must be the reason I feel so bad. You've given me food poisoning.'

‘I thought it was the ice-cream float that had caused your stomach to be sore.'

‘How dare you suggest my dead father's speciality could have caused this!' she shouted.

Ethan could sense he was losing this battle. He decided to be quiet while Grace sat on the toilet crying. Suddenly a shiver ran up his back.

‘Are you sure you're not in labour?'

Grace glared at him.

‘No, it's just an upset stomach. My waters haven't broken. I don't have contractions.'

‘But you said your stomach is sore. Are you sure that's not cramps? Labour cramps?'

Suddenly Grace felt light-headed.

‘Oh my God, maybe I am in labour. What do we do?'

Ethan stood up. ‘You stay there. I'll ring the hospital.'

Ten minutes later Grace was sitting in the front of Ethan's car watching him lock up their house. The hospital had suggested she come in and be seen. As they sped through the city Grace rolled down the window and took deep breaths. The night air was crisp but fresh. The city was dark and peaceful, but inside the car she was beginning to panic.

‘I don't think I'm ready,' she said, gripping Ethan's hand.

‘You are, Grace. We've read all the books, talked about it for weeks. You'll be great.'

Grace dismissed his response – talking and reading about labour was bound to be completely different from experiencing it.

BY THE TIME
Grace had been admitted to the maternity hospital and brought up to the labour ward she had decided she didn't want to give birth. The pain was bad enough already.

‘Listen,' she said to the midwife, ‘I don't want to be in this situation. I want to go home.'

The nurse just smiled and continued taking her blood pressure.

‘Don't worry, the doctor will be here in a few minutes to assess you,' she said.

‘OK, I don't think you've understood. I don't want to be here. I've changed my mind. I saw those women in the corridors as we were going by. I heard them screaming. I know I could be like them, waiting hours or days until I finally dilate and go into labour. They're walking around this hospital crying and in pain. No, I want out.'

‘You're stronger than those women,' said Ethan, placing his arms protectively around his wife. ‘You'll be fine. Trust me.'

Grace pushed him away. She gazed at the door; she was thinking of bolting out of it when a very handsome young doctor walked in.

‘Hello. My name is Doctor O'Sullivan, and I believe you might be in labour? How are you feeling?'

Grace wanted to shout and scream. She felt sick, sore and
anxious. But the doctor was so calm and attractive that instead she mumbled something about feeling unwell and let Ethan explain the situation. She held her tongue and considered the potential of the window as an escape route.

‘OK Mrs Miller, you'll be glad to hear you are one centimetre dilated. Congratulations, you're in labour.'

‘Can I have an epidural?' said Grace, asking before he had barely finished speaking. Yes, she was relieved to be in labour, but the pain in her stomach and back was getting worse and she wanted it to stop.

Dr O'Sullivan laughed.

‘Wow, you know what you want! But first Nurse Kenny will explain to you about the gas and air option, and then . . .'

Grace interrupted. ‘Listen, I know all about gas, air, breathing and the flipping yoga ball. But I've found the last half-hour excruciating, so I can only imagine what is to come. Can you please order the epidural?'

The doctor looked at Grace's hand. She was squeezing Ethan's fingers so hard that they had gone blue.

‘OK, it's your decision. I'll get the anaesthetist up to you straight away.'

And with that Grace Miller was in labour and beginning the countdown to her baby's arrival.

Ethan was about to voice his opinion, and remind Grace how they had hoped to be drug free for as long as possible in the labour room, but when he looked at her angry expression he knew it was best to keep quiet.

The nurse tied back Grace's long red hair, and handed her a cold facecloth.

‘I can't let you have any food or drink, but this should cool you down.'

Grace thanked her, but all she really wanted was the epidural.

Soon she was changed into a hospital gown, and Ethan was sitting beside her, rooting through her hospital bag.

‘I swear to God,' Grace said irritably, ‘if you've brought that flipping camcorder in here I will kill you. This is not America, no one wants to see me pushing a baby out.'

Ethan placed the camcorder back into the rucksack. He pretended he had just been looking for Grace's warm woolly socks instead.

‘No, I just wanted to take these out for you. Everyone says your feet will get cold.'

Grace relaxed. ‘Oh yes, thanks.'

Ethan looked at the nurse, who had seen it all before. She winked at him.

Forty minutes later Grace was in agony, but lay very still on her side as the anaesthetist carefully inserted a needle into her lower back. Grace sucked hard on the gas and air as she waited for the proper pain relief to kick in. She sucked and sucked.

‘Try not to suck in that much,' said the nurse, but it was too late. Grace was tripping. She could hear the anaesthetist talk, but everything he said was repeated three times. She could hear the sound of music on the little bedside radio but the same song was repeated again and again. She looked at Ethan, he smiled back. It all felt so dreamlike.

‘I love you,' he whispered. It repeated inside her head over and over. It was lovely. Love, love, love she thought, as the doctor told her she would start to feel the effect of the epidural soon. She began to let go and relax.

The next two hours passed quickly. Grace felt much better, the epidural made the whole process so much easier. Yes, she couldn't stand up or go to the toilet, but she didn't feel like her back was cracking, either.

Ethan never let go of her hand. He was a rock.

‘You're doing great,' he said encouragingly.

Grace looked out of the window, it was still night. While people slept she was giving birth, while people lay in their beds she was here, waiting for her child to be born.

There was a small radio playing in the room.

‘You can turn that off if you want,' said the nurse, but Grace liked the distraction. As one hit song after another played quietly she became calmer, knowing the end was in sight.

‘OK,' said the doctor, who had just come in to check on her. ‘You're ten centimetres now, which means in a few moments we are going to ask you to push. Now, don't push unless I ask you to, no matter how it feels. OK?'

Grace nodded. Oh my God, this is it, she thought. The room filled up with nurses and doctors. They were all talking, but Grace wasn't listening. She had total trust in them, she knew she would be fine. Instead she listened to the radio. As the sound of Coldplay, The Script and then Bell X1 all poured out into the room Grace wondered which song would be playing when her child was born.

‘I hope it's Coldplay,' she said to Ethan.

‘Grace! Just focus on the doctor and the pushing!' he insisted.

Grace turned to the doctor, who was now telling her to push. Grace could feel her baby getting closer and closer to entering the world.

Nine minutes passed, but it felt like seconds. Suddenly Grace gave one big push, knowing this was the one. As she felt the pressure of the baby's head she couldn't hear or see anything. It was like an out-of-body experience. Suddenly she heard a baby wailing, the doctor calling to the nurse, and Ethan crying.

‘Oh my God, Grace. It's a girl. A little girl, and she's perfect!'

Grace looked down. The doctor was holding a tiny baby. That's my daughter, she thought.