Woman to Woman (62 page)

“No. It is my business. I’m with you, I’m responsible for you!” he snarled.

“You’re not responsible for me, Sam. You never were and you aren’t now. Accept that or leave now!”

Shaking with controlled rage, Aisling sat down again.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” panted Jo.

“Are you all right?” asked Aisling, Sam forgotten as she took in her friend’s pale, damp face.

“No. I don’t think so. I feel very strange all of a sudden.

Mark went to the loo five minutes ago, and I’ve been feeling very strange since then.”

“I’m so sorry. I was so busy with Sam, I never noticed … Why didn’t you come and get me?” Aisling hissed at Sam.

“I didn’t know where you were!” he retorted.

“Oh Ash!” Jo’s cry was loud and scared. Her eyes were huge as she looked at her friend.

“My waters just broke! “

Mark held Jo’s right hand tightly as the limo raced towards the Coombe.

“Don’t worry, Jo,” he said encouragingly.

“You’re going to be fine, I promise.”

“But you’ve never had a baby sobbed Jo.

“How do you know?”

“I have and you’re going to be fine,” said Aisling reassuringly, squeezing Jo’s left hand.

“The baby’s early. I’m not due yet,” wailed Jo. How could she be having the baby so soon? She’d another three weeks to go, the baby was premature. Maybe she wasn’t in labour at all.

She’d read the pregnancy books and she hadn’t had the hours of contractions she’d expected. It had to be a false alarm.

“Aaagh!” she screamed as another contraction hit her.

“Oh God,” groaned Mark.

“Hurry up he yelled at the driver.

“He’s going as fast as he can Aisling said in the calm and controlled voice she used when the twins had nightmares.

“We don’t want to end up in the casualty room before we get to the delivery ward, do we?” She glared at Mark.

“You’re right, you’re right he said.

“You’ve got to stay calm he added to Jo.

“I don’t want to be calm she yelled.

“This hurts.”

And it’s going to hurt a hell of a lot more, Aisling reflected.

Wait till they got to the bit where Jo screeched that she was never going to let a man get within a fifty-foot radius of her ever again. Aisling remembered that one. Listening to a woman screaming that sex was off the agenda for ever was enough to put the fear of God into any man. Never mind one who wasn’t even the father in the first place.

Once she’d realised that Jo was going into labour, Aisling sent Sam to her house in a taxi to get Jo’s hospital suitcase.

They’d packed it a few days before.

Jo already had a large collection of baby clothes, including beautifully knitted matinee coats and shawls her mother had made, and a selection of pastel-coloured baby gros Rhona had given her. Packing for the baby was no problem, she said, reading from the list.

“Nappies, vests, baby gros cardigans, soft towels, a hat, gloves, breast-feeding bras, sanitary towels, nipple cream, the list goes on and on. It’s like bringing an entire department store into hospital,” Jo laughed.

“Breathe deeply, Jo,” Mark said in an encouraging voice.

“That’s later hissed Jo.

“All right, Jo. Don’t get upset,” Aisling said.

“You’ve got to stay calm.”

“Calm? Shrieked the expectant mother.

“How can I stay calm? I’m having the baby in a car.”

“You’re not, Jo.” Mark held her gently. The pain of the contraction faded. They sat quietly for a few moments, Jo’s eyes closed again, one hand lay gently on her bump, the other tightly clasped in Mark’s.

Jo was so glad it was Mark who was with her right now. She couldn’t imagine what Richard would have done. Phoned his mother, probably, before retiring to the nearest pub for some Dutch courage. He wouldn’t have been much help, wouldn’t have been any help.

Mark wasn’t like that. He loved her and that meant he wanted to be with her all the time. Wonderful, wonderful Mark. She could feel his hand warm and strong around hers.

He seemed to understand that she didn’t want to talk. She wanted to stay silent. If she could keep her eyes closed and stay very, very still, she mightn’t have another contraction.

Then they could all go home.

“Aaagh!”

The pain was intense. And terrifying. There was no doubt about it, Jo thought as she clenched her teeth, she was having the baby. It was going to happen very soon.

Thank God,” breathed Aisling as the limo pulled up outside the hospital.

“I thought we’d never get here.”

“You and me both muttered Jo, between deep breaths.

Within minutes, she was being examined by a midwife who pronounced her as three centimetres dilated.

“Dilated to meet you,” Jo joked weakly.

“You’re wonderful, do you know that?” said Mark quietly.

“Even now you’re able to make me laugh.”

“Fear,” said Jo.

“I’m bloody terrified. I’m trying to make both of us laugh …” Another huge contraction gripped her.

The midwife, a down-to-earth woman named Paula, took Jo’s blood pressure, temperature and pulse before listening to the baby’s heartbeat.

“Both you and your baby are doing fine,” Paula said calmly.

“You’re definitely in labour, but it could be a long time before you reach the second stage. You’ve got to relax, Jo.”

“I’m in labour, really?” asked Jo in alarm.

“Yes, but you could have a long wait Paula explained.

“I’ll be monitoring you all the time to see how you’re doing, but you’ve got to relax.”

Jo felt as if a tight band was being wound around her chest, squeezing her heart and lungs until she could barely breathe. In labour. She was in labour. There was no stopping it, there was no turning back. The baby was coming. She was terrified.

“Mark!”

“Yes, Jo, I’m here.”

She squeezed his hand in terror.

“Oh Mark, it’s happening and I’m not ready, I’m not ready at all.” Her voice became a sob.

She clung to him, sobbing with a mixture of fear and pain.

Mark looked at Paula in anguish, not knowing what to do.

“You might feel better if you walked around for a while Paula advised Jo.

“Would you like to do that?”

Jo nodded through the tears. Anything was better than just lying back on the pillows in pain. She’d love to walk if only she could. It was

all so terrifying, so utterly terrifying. When Sam arrived with Jo’s things half an hour later, she was feeling more relaxed.

“She’s calmed down a lot Mark told Aisling when he left the labour ward to get Jo’s nightie.

“They gave her an injection of pethidine. She refuses to have an epidural, as you know. I wish she’d have one.”

“Jo’s terrified of the idea Aisling said.

“I did my best to convince her. Told her I’d have had one if I could when I was having the twins, but she won’t hear of it.”

Mark rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“She says you should go home, Aisling, and get some sleep.”

“Sleep! I don’t think I could Aisling exclaimed, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders.

“I feel so useless out here, I wish I could do something.”

“You feel useless Mark said, his voice strained. At least you’ve gone through this. I don’t know what to do at all, except tell her to breathe deeply. I can barely breathe myself when I see her in so much pain.”

Aisling gave him a hug.

“You’re doing great. She simply needs you with her, the hospital will do all the rest. Don’t worry.”

Aisling watched him go. He looked utterly haggard, but then, they all did. Her eyes had been bloodshot the last time she looked in the ladies’ mirror and even Sam, who always looked in the prime of health, was white-faced with tiredness.

“What time is it?” murmured Jo when Mark went back to her.

“I think I dozed off.” She sounded almost drunk. Paula had explained that pethidine could do that to you.

“It’s nearly three.” He stroked her face softly. He was glad that she was dozing off, glad that the injection meant she slept between each agonising contraction. He sat beside her, watching her eyelids flutter as she slept. She seemed to be having mini nightmares, tossing restlessly and waking screaming when the pain hit her. Mark held her

hand while she slept and wiped her hot face and neck with a cool face cloth when she woke up. Paula was fantastic. She soothed Jo when he couldn’t.

“The baby’s heartbeat is very strong she told Jo.

“It won’t be too long now.”

The hands on Mark’s watch had crawled around to half four when a red-haired nurse popped her head around the door.

“Mr. Ryan, Paula said you should grab a cup of tea and I’ll stay with Mrs. Ryan,” she said.

Thanks, but I couldn’t leave her,” he replied.

“Go on,” the nurse insisted.

“It could be a long night.”

Mark gulped his scalding tea, not really wanting to wait until it cooled. He was afraid to be away from Jo for more than ten minutes. Who knew when she’d go into the second stage?

“Mark!” He heard her long before he reached the ward. She was screeching in pain, her face contorted as a powerful contraction hit her. Her eyes were red with exhaustion and sweat had matted strands of dark hair to her forehead.

“Jo, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I was gone,” he cried.

“I’ve got to push!” she screamed.

“Don’t push yet.” Paula’s voice was calm and controlled.

This isn’t the time to push. Take two short breaths and then breathe out slowly,” she advised, checking Jo’s cervix. Another nurse monitored the baby’s heart through the machine they’d connected to Jo’s belly.

“You’re nine and a half centimetres dilated, Jo. You’re nearly ready. How do you feel?”

“Bloody awful,” panted Jo.

“Aaagghh!”

They propped her up with a pile of pillows, getting her into the most comfortable position.

“You’re doing great, Jo,” Mark said.

Ten centimetres,” said Paula.

Jo screamed with pain.

“Now I know why they call it “labour”.”

“OK now, push!” commanded Paula.

“A long, steady push.”

Jo pushed, tucking her chin down onto her chest. That was the right way to do it, she was sure. That was what they’d said at the classes. Oh God, the pain, she couldn’t take it. How could the baby come out? How would it fit?

“You’re doing brilliantly, Jo.” said Mark encouragingly, one large hand clasped tightly in Jo’s small one.

“Take a deep breath as you feel each contraction beginning Paula said.

“Ready …”

Jo did her best and pushed as hard as she could. She could feel the baby, feel the baby coming out.

That’s great, one more push. It’s crowning. Jo, we can see the baby’s head.”

Mark squeezed her hand and Jo felt the tears swell in her eyes. The baby, her baby.

“Don’t push for a moment, Jo. The baby’s head is stretching the birth canal. We don’t want you to tear Paula said.

“Relax.” Mark said.

“And pant added the red-haired nurse.

Jo panted, feeling the pressure lessen.

“Oh Jo, look, the baby’s head!” yelled Mark in excitement.

She could barely see, couldn’t stretch any farther. She so desperately wanted to see the baby’s head.

“Push.” commanded Paula.

“Just a couple more pushes, just two more!”

With one last push, Jo felt the baby ease out. She gasped with relief, and as Paula held the small bloodied body up for her to see, she gasped with joy.

“She’s a beautiful little girl Paula said triumphantly.

Tears blinded Jo. She watched Paula expertly check the tiny infant. She’d read all about the Apgar score to assess the baby for breathing, heart rate and response to stimulation. Before, the Apgar had been words on a page now it was the most important thing in the world to her.

“Oh Mark.” Jo held her breath with terror. Please let the baby be all right. The baby let out a loud wail, a healthy sound that brought colour to her mother’s cheeks.

“Is she all right?” Jo asked, barely able to speak with fear.

“You’ve got a beautiful little girl, Jo.” said Paula.

“She’s seven pounds one ounce, very healthy. She scored an eight on her Apgar.”

Paula laid the baby, all wrapped up in a soft towel, in Jo’s arms. Jo gazed down at the huge blue eyes, the downy dark hair clinging to her head, and the small pink mouth screwed up with crying. She’d never felt anything like it before, Jo thought, the powerful and intense love she felt for her tiny, fragile baby. She held the baby’s delicate little hands, marvelling at the tiny fingers.

“She’s so beautiful,” said Jo, holding the fragile baby close to her chest. Mark sat on the edge of the bed and stroked the baby’s head. His huge hand dwarfed the infant’s red face.

As if she had responded to his touch, the baby stopped crying and snuggled instinctively closer to Jo’s breast. She made little sucking noises with her mouth and Jo was about to open her hospital gown to feed her when Paula appeared beside her.

“Because she was premature, we’ve got to make sure that she’s healthy the midwife said, gently taking the baby from Jo.

“The paediatrician wants a look at her. I’ll be back with her as soon as I can.”

Jo felt as if a part of her was missing. She laid her fingers over the mound of her belly, still huge from carrying her little passenger all those months. If something went wrong, if the baby was sick, Jo didn’t know how she’d cope. She’d die if anything happened to the baby, she just knew it.

“She’ll be fine, Jo.” Mark leaned over to kiss her forehead. It was no good. She loved Mark to pieces, but he couldn’t comfort her when it came to her darling baby.

After fifteen of the longest minutes of Jo’s life, Claire, the red-haired nurse, returned with the baby and the paediatrician in tow.

“She’s fine,” explained the doctor.

“Perfectly healthy. She’s quite big for a pre-term baby at seven pounds one ounce. And she’s perfect.”

“I know, isn’t she?” Jo beamed up at him.

“You hold her, Mark,” she added. When Mark took the infant into his arms, she mewled like a kitten at first and then snuggled peacefully into his chest.