Wedding on the Baby Ward / Special Care Baby Miracle (9 page)

On entering the NICU, Miles headed off to the theatre and Janessa washed her hands thoroughly before heading over to Philip’s humidicrib where Kaycee was still keeping vigil. She reached in and touched the little baby’s stomach, stroking gently, crooning to him.

‘We’ll help you, sweetheart. As much as we can. We’ll do everything possible. Be strong.’

‘It doesn’t look good,’ Kaycee said a moment later.

‘I know but even admitting that doesn’t feel right.’

‘He’s too young. Even now, the risks are …’ Kaycee trailed off, realising she didn’t need to voice the thoughts both women were thinking. Janessa sighed, pain piercing her heart for the tiny life.

Soon it was time for Philip’s surgery and after Ray had collected the baby from the NICU, Janessa went and scrubbed, pulling on her professionalism, ready to assist Miles. When he started performing the keyhole surgery on the tiny anaesthetised baby, Janessa found herself becoming more fascinated by his skill, and by the end of the surgical procedure, which had been undertaken with such precision and grace, she stood in compete awe of Miles and his abilities.

She’d read his articles and she’d always known he was the best. It was the reason why she’d requested he be the neonate surgeon in charge of Sheena’s twins, but being here, watching him … it had only helped to solidify in her mind just how incredible Miles Trevellion really was. He was perfectly suited to this work, and although, through his publications, she’d been able to learn of his academic career and the way he’d become so specialised in this field, she had no idea what had prompted him to enter into neonatology in the first place. As a surgeon and colleague, he had her utmost respect but even as they degowned, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was that made the man tick.

That, however, was an area she’d already marked as dangerous to enter. Hadn’t she lain awake at night, wondering about him? Hadn’t she tried to school her thoughts so she didn’t dwell on the unanswered questions that didn’t seem to want to leave her mind?

Deciding she needed a distraction and to get out of the NICU, and knowing she was leaving Philip with the best possible care, she headed up to the maternity ward to check on Sheena.

‘He was amazing,’ she said to her friend, her face alive with appreciation.

‘I thought you weren’t allowed to discuss patients with me,’ Sheena remarked.

‘I’m not discussing the patient, I’m discussing Miles and the way he performed the surgery.’

‘Sounds as though you’re really becoming … attached to the man.’

‘Purely in a professional capacity,’ Janessa quickly pointed out. ‘It only proves that he is the most perfect doctor to be looking after your babies. It’s right for him to be head of this team. Your girls …’ Janessa reached out and put a hand on Sheena’s abdomen, and one of the girls instantly kicked her, as though to say,
Hello, Aunty Nessa
‘… are going to be just fine.’

‘I know. With you and Miles looking after them, I
know
everything will be perfect.’

The two friends hugged and Janessa stayed for a few more minutes. ‘I’d better get back to the unit.’

‘Do you think Philip has a chance now?’ Sheena asked as Janessa headed towards the door.

‘A better chance than before but he’s so … prem, Sheenie. So small. So weak.’

‘And how are you holding up throughout it all? Teenage mother? Very sick baby? This can’t be easy for you, Nessa.’

‘I’ll be fine. What happened to me happened a long time ago.’

‘Mm-hm.’ Sheena didn’t sound as though she believed her. ‘Just know that if you need me, I’m here for you. I may be just a human incubator to my girls but for you I’m forever your friend.’

Janessa smiled. ‘I know. You’re the best, Sheenie. Anyway, I’d best get back to the NICU.’

‘You will let me know what happens? Either way?’ Sheena’s words had been calm but firm. ‘Lift the gag order for this one. Please?’

Janessa looked at her friend, seeing the concern, knowing Sheena had seen these same or similar circumstances before. They both had. They both knew the odds. Even with Miles’s brilliant surgical skills, it might not be enough to tip the scales in Philip’s favour.

‘OK. Rest, though. I’ll talk to you later.’

Janessa headed back to the unit and after getting an update on Philip, who was still heavily sedated, she headed to her office. She had a lot to do but didn’t want to do any of it. She sat there for a good half an hour, trying to concentrate, trying to get her brain to focus on the mounds of paperwork before her but to no avail. At a knock at her door she immediately looked up, glad of the interruption.

Miles opened the door. ‘Sorry to bother you.’

‘It’s fine.’ She beckoned him in and indicated the seat opposite her desk, the one he’d sat in all sharp and direct on his very first day here. This time, though, he was more relaxed, more calm. He’d obviously showered and changed after surgery and his casual trousers and polo shirt seemed to fit him to perfection. Janessa worked hard to ignore the way he moved, ignored the way the man was the whole package—handsome, intelligent and caring. Everything she’d ever wanted in a man, sitting before her. She clenched her hands tightly beneath the desk, more as a way of releasing her own frustration at being so drawn to him than anything else.

‘How is he?’ She didn’t need to say anything else. All of them were equally concerned about Philip.

Miles frowned. ‘Not doing as well as I’d hoped.’

Janessa nodded. They both knew the outlook wasn’t good but they were still determined to do everything they could to help him.

‘I’ve just come from seeing Sheena.’

‘I was up there earlier. Just needed a break.’

‘Me, too. She told me you’ve lifted the gag order on this one. Do you think that’s wise? The chances that Philip could die are extremely high. You don’t think news like that will elevate Sheena’s blood pressure?’ There was the slight hint of censure in his tone and Janessa felt the sting.

‘No. I don’t. Not this time. This time it’s different and we both know it. She knows Philip’s prognosis isn’t good. The gag order mainly pertains to the running of the hospital, especially anything from the paediatric unit. This … Philip … he’s different. Sheena and I have always shared these deep exchanges with each other. It’s what we do. It’s how we support each other. It’s why we’re such good friends.’

‘You’ve obviously been through a lot with each other. Anyone can see how strong the bond is between the two of you. It’s nice. Deep, abiding friendships. They’re rare.’

Janessa couldn’t help but wonder if he was referring to his wife, the fact that he’d mentioned they’d been good friends before the relationship had progressed. ‘Yes, they are.’

‘Do you think we might be able to have that?’

‘A deep, abiding friendship?’ she wanted to clarify.

‘Or something like it.’ There was an earnest tone to his words.

‘I’ve only known you for just over a week, Miles.’ She spread her arms wide. ‘I’ve known Sheena for almost twenty years.’

‘We certainly have a good grounding for a friendship. We like each other. We respect each other. We seem to share a similar sense of humour.’

Janessa pondered his words for a moment, deciding that if they simply agreed to remain friends for the duration of Miles’s stay, it might actually help them to deal with the electrifying pull they felt towards each other.

‘It’s one thing to be colleagues and neighbours but friends would be nice,’ he added when she didn’t immediately answer.

‘Friends.’ The word was spoken slowly, as though it was filled with deep reflection. Sighing, she stood and walked towards the door, gazing out into the unit for a long moment. Then something changed. The hairs on the back of her neck started to prick and she closed her eyes, listening closely, her back straightening, her entire body tensed. Everything else, trying to define her relationship with Miles, trying to control the way he made her feel whenever he was near … everything disappeared as she concentrated and listened to her intuition.

Miles noted the instant change in her demeanour, shifting briskly from open and sultry to one of instant apprehension. ‘Something wrong?’ he asked, standing up but not moving towards her. Distance. He needed to keep his distance.

‘It’s quiet.’ Her tone was filled with concern.

‘It’s not that quiet. I can still hear a few babies making noises.’

‘Not that sort of quiet.’

‘Ah. You mean … something is about to happen?’

‘Yes.’ She looked at him and this time, all he saw was the look of a concerned neonatologist following through on an instinctive reaction.

‘Philip,’ they said in unison, and walked quickly over to where the little baby lay. He was sleeping, his breathing shallow and rapid.

If Philip was strong enough to survive, then young Violet would have her work cut out for her as babies born this early often ran the risk of neurological complications, such as autism or cerebral palsy. Her heart went out to both mother and child for whatever might happen within the next twenty-four hours.

‘Something wrong?’ Kaycee asked as she continued to monitor Philip.

‘I don’t know,’ Janessa responded.

Kaycee picked up Philip’s chart and handed it to Miles, who read it. ‘I only did his obs two minutes ago. He’s as stable as he can be, poor little lamb.’

Janessa accepted the chart from Miles and glanced at the information before looking at Philip once more. ‘I don’t know. There’s just … something not right.’

‘Instinct.’ Miles nodded. ‘The best weapon we doctors have and on the rare times that we don’t trust it, heavy prices can be paid.’

Janessa could hear something, a tinge of sadness, a strong dose of regret coming through in what Miles was saying, and while she agreed with him one hundred per cent, she also noted that he was talking from personal experience. Had ignoring his instincts led to his wife’s death? She pushed the thought aside, focusing on the wee baby struggling to fight for his life.

‘Janessa has amazing instincts,’ Kaycee confirmed.

‘What do you think it is?’ Miles asked.

‘Seriously, I don’t know. Something is … off. There’s something not in line with normal parameters yet all his obs are fine.’ She returned the chart to Kaycee and shook her head.

‘So you’re going to stand here and watch him?’ Miles asked as Kaycee headed off to deal with another baby who’d just woken, his healthy little cries filling the nursery.

‘Yes.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘What about you?’ Janessa glanced across at him, both of them standing on opposite sides of their patient.

‘You’re right. Looking down at him now, there’s something … niggling … something not quite.’

Before Miles had finished speaking, the machines monitoring Philip’s heart rate started to beep noisily, Janessa noting that the tiny chest had stopped rising and falling. She quickly touched the baby, tickling his feet in order to stimulate a response. Sometimes babies needed to be reminded to breathe but this simple stimulation didn’t appear to be working.

‘No response,’ she reported as Kaycee rushed over. Miles had already pulled on a pair of gloves and was hooking his stethoscope into his ears. Kaycee grabbed the Laderal bag and handed it to Miles so he could resuscitate Philip. Miles gently squeezed the bag to give the baby some breaths as Janessa pulled on a pair of gloves.

‘He’s still desaturating down to fifty per cent.’

‘He’s just not picking up.’

‘We can do this. We can help him.’ Miles’s words were firm and controlled. He looked over at Janessa. ‘Let’s do our jobs.’

‘O
XYGEN
at forty per cent.’

‘No more apnoeas,’ Janessa told Philip. ‘Caffeine, Kaycee. Wake him up.’

‘I’m on it.’ Kaycee was already injecting the caffeine into Philip’s drip in order to stimulate a response.

‘His hypothalamus is too immature. It’s not receiving the signals, not computing,’ Ray murmured as he brought the intubation trolley over.

‘Oxygen desaturating.’

‘Increase oxygen to sixty per cent.’

‘Are the umbilical lines clear? Still working?’

‘Yes.’

‘Prepare dexamethazone.’

‘No response to caffeine stimulus.’

‘Oxygen still desaturating.’

‘Boost to one hundred per cent. Prepare adrenaline.’

‘Chest X-rays?’

‘Get the machine ready.’

‘He’s still not responding.’

‘Bag him.’

They all worked together, each of them doing their utmost in order to save Philip’s life. It wasn’t looking good and they all fought harder.

‘Body’s changing colour. Going grey.’

‘No. No. Let’s get him ready to intubate.’ Miles was still pushing. Janessa was working equally hard.

‘Administer adrenaline. Come on, Philip. Hang in there.’

Janessa took over the bagging to give Kaycee a break, putting her finger over the hole of the Neopuff mask and lifting it again, getting the oxygen into Philip’s brain. Her fears that it was already too late, that even if they were able to save him right now, it might be too late to stop severe trauma to the oxygen-starved brain. In the distance, as though it was far, far away, she could hear the noise of a young girl crying. Violet. Violet was there. She’d picked a terrible time to come and see her son … then again, maybe it was the right time after all.

‘Colour still grey,’ Ray murmured, and Janessa could hear the dismay in her colleague’s voice.

‘Ready to intubate,’ Janessa said, and received a quick glance from Miles. He shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible, but she caught it. ‘We have to try,’ she urged him.

‘Lips are turning blue,’ Kaycee reported, her tone as despondent as Ray’s.

‘It’s over, Janessa.’ Miles’s tone held complete sadness.

‘No. We can do this. We can save him. We have the skill.’ She reached for the laryngoscope but Miles put his hand over hers.

‘It’s over.’ He took the instrument from her and met her gaze.

‘No.’ The word was torn from her, filled with anguish and sorrow. ‘No. We have to—’

‘Nessa.’ The use of her nickname, hearing it come from Miles’s lips, his deep voice laced with resignation, managed to break through her denial. ‘It’s over. Let him rest in peace.’

Janessa looked over at Philip, his lifeless little body just lying there, and her mouth went instantly dry. Flashes of Connor lying in almost exactly the same position. She blinked and swallowed. ‘Call it,’ she rasped.

‘Time of death, ten past two.’ Miles’s voice was hollow as though it was an effort to force the words out.

‘He was too premmie. Poor little love didn’t have the strength to fight,’ Kaycee murmured as she and Janessa stood looking down at the tiny, lifeless body. It wasn’t easy. It was never easy to lose a patient but when they were so new to the world, so young and helpless, relying on the doctors to do their very best to save them.

The tears wouldn’t stay where she wanted them and despite her most valiant efforts, they started to blur her vision. She swallowed over the lump in her throat and tried not to sniff. ‘I’ll go and tell Violet.’

‘No.’ Miles’s tone was firm. ‘I’ll do it.’ He met Janessa’s gaze and she almost gasped at what she saw. The pain, the raw, grinding emotion seemed to flood from him directly into her. There was no hope in his eyes, no promise of any kind, just a well of deep, personal heartache.

She swallowed again, her dry throat not making it at all easy. As their eyes held, somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that he was waiting for her agreement to his statement. He would go and deliver the bad news.

‘No young mother should have to face this.’ With that, he turned and walked over to where Violet was with Helena, near the front desk of the NICU. Janessa watched, waiting for the moment when utter heartbreak would come over Violet’s features. As Janessa stood there, watching, waiting … Miles’s words penetrated her mind. ‘No young mother should have to face this.’

What did he mean? Was he going to stop Violet from seeing Philip? From achieving closure? No. She wouldn’t allow it. All those years ago, after they’d told her they hadn’t been able to save Connor, she hadn’t been able to face seeing his lifeless little body lying there. Bradley had gone, had said goodbye, but she had been too distraught.

It hadn’t been until that night, that first night without him near her, after Bradley had gone home, that Janessa had changed her mind. She’d needed to see him, to see for herself that he was really gone, to achieve the closure the staff had encouraged her to find. When she’d spoken to the nurse, they’d arranged for her to be taken to the mortuary, to a small viewing room with comfortable chairs and soothing pictures on the wall.

There, the medical examiner had brought out her little boy. He’d been wrapped in a white blanket with little blue aeroplanes on it. She’d sat. She’d held him. She’d kissed him goodbye.

She wasn’t going let Miles stop Violet from seeing Philip. Violet needed closure. She needed to be able to say goodbye to her baby, otherwise she might well live the rest of her life carrying around the scars of grief and mortification.

‘Janessa?’ Kaycee’s soft tone brought her thoughts back to the present. ‘Do you want to go fill in the paperwork? I can get him ready for his mother to see—’

‘We’ll do it together.’ Janessa nodded, and as a strained, uncomfortable silence fell over the NICU she and Kaycee worked quietly and efficiently to remove the attached equipment before wheeling Philip’s crib into the empty emergency bay. This way, the young mother would be afforded the privacy she would need.

Janessa looked over to where Miles was still standing next to Violet, the young mother crying on Helena’s shoulder. She wasn’t going to allow anyone to stop Violet from having access to Philip. Drawing in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and clearing her throat, Janessa wanted to let Violet know that Philip was ready for a final cuddle.

No sooner had she taken two steps towards them than Miles helped Violet to stand and started to escort her in Janessa’s direction. Janessa stopped. He was bringing her over? At that moment, Miles looked up and saw her.

‘Ready?’ he asked softly.

‘Ready?’ Janessa was momentarily confused. When she’d presumed Miles hadn’t wanted Violet to see Philip, it was obvious now that she’d grabbed the wrong end of the stick.

‘For Violet to say goodbye?’

‘Yes. Yes, of course. Right this way.’ When Miles had said, ‘No young mother should have to face this,’ Janessa now realised he’d been referring to the entire situation of losing a child. It showed her once again how wonderful Miles really was. He was so kind and caring and … She shouldn’t be thinking about him in such a way but right now she couldn’t help it. Seeing him so considerate, so compassionate stirred something deep within her. He was quite a man.

Poor Violet was as white as a sheet as they led her to where Philip lay, peaceful and quiet in the crib. Janessa felt her eyes starting to sting with tears again and she pushed them away, quietly trying to clear the lump in her throat, pursing her lips tightly together in order to keep herself under control. Professional. She had to somehow remain professional.

‘We’re very sorry for your loss.’ It wasn’t a platitude that came out of her mouth but heartfelt words as the young girl looked at her lifeless son, wrapped in a small baby blanket.

‘Can I hold …?’

‘Of course.’

Miles ushered Violet to a chair and Janessa tenderly picked Philip up and handed him over. The girl looked at him for a moment, before rocking gently to and fro. She bent and kissed his little head and then started to sing a soft lullaby.

With the sweet, innocent sound filling the air around them, Janessa found she wasn’t able to hold it in any longer. Tears ran silently down her cheeks, her heart filled with pain and anguish for what this brave young girl was going through. Without looking at Miles, she said softly, ‘Take as long as you need, Violet. Excuse me.’

She managed to make it to her office and was able to shut the door before a gut-wrenching sob erupted from her body. She didn’t seem able to stop the free-flowing tears and she blindly made her way to her desk in search of tissues. She dabbed at her eyes and quietly blew her nose but the tears and pain didn’t stop. They would, eventually, she knew they would, but for now, if she didn’t let this emotion out, she would burst.

She heard her office door open but didn’t turn round, knowing it would be Kaycee come to join her for a quick cry. This wouldn’t be the first time they’d shared their grief when losing a patient.

‘Janessa?’

She gasped at the sound of Miles’s deep voice, her vision still blurred as she glanced over at him. She couldn’t believe he was seeing her like this, all red-eyed and sniffly, being highly unprofessional and giving in to her emotions because one of her patients had died. It wasn’t the first time. It wouldn’t be the last. But each one had affected her in the same way.

‘Oh, Janessa.’ His words were almost wrenched from him, and before she knew what he was about he’d closed the distance between them. ‘Come here, honey,’ he murmured, and gathered her into his arms. She went willingly.

Janessa knew there wasn’t anything romantic or suspicious in Miles’s offer to hold her. She told herself that all he was doing was offering comfort, sharing a moment that had touched both of them. She swallowed over her dry, scratchy throat and leaned against him, unable to believe just how being held by him, feeling his warm, firm arms around her, was giving her back her strength and self-control.

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved. Her tears started to quieten and she hiccupped a few times. Throughout it all, Miles simply held her. It felt glorious and wonderful and she couldn’t believe how much she’d missed having someone to just hold her.

The warmth of his body, the beat of his heart beneath his chest, the whole aliveness of him radiated through her and for the first time in a very long time she felt as though she might actually be able to cope with her past. Comfort. Relief. Hope.

‘I was prepared,’ she said after a moment, ‘for her to hold him, to kiss him, to say goodbye.’ She breathed in, still hiccupping a little and allowing his glorious scent to wash over her. ‘But I wasn’t prepared for her to sing to him.’

‘A child singing to her child,’ he murmured, his deep voice rumbling beneath her ear.

‘She grew up. In that one instant I watched her go from being a scared teenager to a young woman who had already lost too much.’

‘She has family,’ he stated. ‘They’ll help her through it. It’s what families do.’

‘Yes. It’s what families do,’ Janessa agreed, knowing she needed to move from his arms, to break free of his hold because it would be far too easy to stay there, to keep drawing comfort from him. But the comfort was already starting to change to total awareness of being held against his firm, muscled chest.

She glanced up at him, swallowing when she saw the way he was looking down at her. His gaze dipped momentarily to her lips and she felt the sweet whisper of his desire wash over her. He still wanted her, was interested in her. Nothing seemed to have changed since the last time he’d been this close to her … the night he’d kissed her.

Sighing, the warmth from his gentle visual caress causing the butterflies in her stomach to take flight, she licked her lips, unsure how they had become so dry suddenly. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, clenching his jaw before once more looking at her. Did she have any idea of the allure that surrounded her? The way she was drawing him in, making him want to throw caution to the wind, to forget that they were colleagues, that they were supposed to be professionals, and kiss her—properly this time, instead of the accidental meeting of their mouths, which seemed to have been burned on his brain?

Forward. She was urging him forward, somehow pulling him from the past, his deep, darkened past where he’d ended up all alone, and was drawing him into the future. Forward. Giving in to the urge to kiss Janessa, to draw her closer into his arms, to devour her mouth with his own, was a definite step towards moving on with his life. So many of his close friends, people he worked with on many different conjoined twin surgeries, had been telling him for at least the last twelve months that it was time.

He hadn’t known it himself until he’d met Janessa.

Now here she stood. In his arms. Looking up at him while he was looking down at her, the mood between them becoming more and more electrified with each passing moment. ‘Nessa.’

The instant he breathed her name, the instant it came to his lips and filled the silence around them she started to tremble. She also eased away, spinning from his arms, breaking the contact, needing the space as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Miles shoved his hands into his pockets, cleared his throat, and took a step back as Janessa moved behind her desk and pulled another tissue from the box. Even as she performed the action, he could see that her hands still weren’t quite steady. It gave him hope. To know that it wasn’t just him who was feeling this way but that she was as much affected by him as he was by her.

‘Thank you, Miles … For the … er … comfort. It was … appreciated but just so you understand, I’m not in the habit of losing my control on a regular basis.’

‘I understand completely. Special circumstances.’ He swallowed, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down his long neck. Janessa glanced at him then and noted that not only was there the hint of repressed desire but something else … there was something else hidden in his tone … something she’d seen earlier. What was it? It only took another moment of looking at him for her to remember the way he’d looked when he’d insisted on breaking the horrible news of the baby’s death to Violet. There had been something there … something deep and moving and highly personal.