This is dedicated to the Yankee Countess and Scarletcourt.
I did a lot of research for sections of this chapter, particularly on caesarian sections and anesthesia in the 1920s. I hope I accurately depicted them. Please let me know if anything is wrong or inconsistent. I always welcome constructive criticisim.
I do not own the characters on Downton Abbey. If I did, most of Series 3 would not have happened.
Tuesday, 20 July 1920
20 July 1920 dawned in a haze of heat and humidity. Sybil Branson was nine months pregnant, and more than ready to give birth. Tom Branson woke on that Tuesday morning with a sense of unease. He had no clue why, but he had this sense that something wasn't right. He shrugged it off as nerves. Sybil would be having the baby at any moment and he would be a father. Tom Branson a da! When he left Ireland and arrived in Yorkshire seven years ago, his plans for his future did not include a wife and children. But then he met Sybil, and though it took him nearly a year to realize it, it was when he met her that his heart truly came to life. Thinking back on the first six years – their fast friendship, the political discussions, the Count, York and those heartbreaking moments in the archway, his wartime frustrations, their arguments over 'us' – all of it had been worth it from the moment Sybil said she would marry him. The last eighteen months was worth it all.
Tom rolled over to look at his wife. Sybil looked so peaceful as she slept, which was not how she felt when she was awake. The last few days, she'd been complaining about her ankles being swollen and how hard it was to get in a comfortable position, as she constantly felt the baby's hands and feet hitting her ribs. He wished he could help ease her discomfort, but she always said his being there was enough. Tom grabbed his pocket watch from the nightstand and looked at the time. He knew he needed to get up and go down to breakfast. He leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek and got out of bed to start the day.
The doctor Lord Grantham hired to deliver the baby, Sir Philip Tapsell, arrived at Downton around a quarter after one that afternoon. He examined Sybil and proclaimed that she and the baby were both fine and that everything was proceeding normally. Tom tried to relax at his words but he still had this nagging feeling that something wasn't right.
An hour after Sir Philip's examination, Isobel Crawley arrived at Downton. She wanted to visit with Sybil and see how she was doing, remembering what it was like to be nine months pregnant.
"As much as I loved it when I was expecting, by the ninth month, I just wanted Matthew out so I could feel normal again," she said to Sybil and Tom.
Sybil smiled at her cousin. "That's how I feel right now. My ankles are swollen, my head aches and with the baby pushing on my diaphragm, I'm having difficulty breathing. I also really want to meet this little one so much that I can't wait for labour to begin."
Tom grabbed her hand. "You say that now, but you won't think that when you actually are in labour."
It was as he was looking up that Tom noticed Isobel's face was full of concern. He was about to ask her what was wrong when Dr. Clarkson came into the room.
"I know your father hired Sir Philip, but your mother insisted that I should still see you. And to be honest, since I have known you your entire life, I really wanted to examine you myself, if that's fine with you? And of course, with you Mr. Branson?"
Tom smiled at the doctor. "I'm fine with you checking on Sybil. I just want everything to go right."
"It is also fine with me."
"I'll step out of the room." He paused, and then looked at Isobel. "Can you stay with Sybil while she's being examined?"
"Of course! I was going to ask if I could, but it seems I do not need to ask now."
Sybil looked at her husband for a moment. "You're being overprotective."
"I know, but humour me."
She shook her head at him as he left the room. Tom couldn't keep still as he waited in the hall. He began to pace, checking his pocket watch every so often. He noticed that Dr. Clarkson's examination was taking longer than Sir Philip's did. Tom tried not to jump to conclusions. He's just being thorough. Nothing's wrong. You're just overreacting Tom.
After nearly thirty minutes, Dr. Clarkson and Isobel left Sybil's room. Tom swiftly approached them, with a flurry of questions.
"How is she? How's the baby? Is everything as it should be?"
Dr. Clarkson spoke, but didn't really answer his questions. "I would like to confer with Sir Philip. You may go in and sit with Lady Sybil."
Isobel gave Dr. Clarkson a questioning look as he spoke. This did nothing to calm Tom's nerves, but before he could ask any more questions, Dr. Clarkson was walking down the stairs, with Isobel close behind him.
Tom entered their room, walked over to the bed and sat next to Sybil, gently taking her hand in his.
"Is everything fine, love?"
"Yes, Tom. No need to worry."
"Are you sure?"
Sybil looked at her husband, noticing the obvious worry on his face.
"Tom, what's wrong? Why are you so worried?"
He hesitated to answer. Should I tell her about the nagging feeling? I don't want to worry her. Then again, she can read me like a book…
"I've had this uneasy feeling since I woke this morning…"
"You're just nervous, darling. You told me last week that you were a little anxious about becoming a father."
"You're probably right, but Mrs. Crawley looked concerned over something you said before and then the look she gave Dr. Clarkson in the hall just now, it didn't calm my nerves."
While Tom and Sybil were talking upstairs, downstairs a battle of opinions was being waged, with Dr. Clarkson and Cora on one side with Sir Philip and Robert on the other.
"Based on my examination and the tests I ran, I believe Lady Sybil is suffering from toxemia. I believe the best course of treatment would be to take her to the hospital and perform a caesarian section."
"Don't be absurd," exclaimed Sir Philip. "I examined her myself, and she is perfectly fine."
"I beg to differ," replied Dr. Clarkson. "Her ankles are swollen-"
"She is nine months pregnant. And she could just have thick ankles."
"I've known Lady Sybil her entire life. She does not have thick ankles. Besides the swollen ankles, her blood pressure is high and the protein in her urine is elevated. Not to mention the baby appears to be small for this stage of pregnancy. All of which are classic signs of toxemia."
"You are needlessly jumping to conclusions. Performing a caesarian section is not necessary and highly dangerous. As I said before, Lady Sybil is perfectly fine and her pregnancy is progressing to my satisfaction."
Cora could not keep silent any longer. "I'm sorry Sir Philip, but I trust Dr. Clarkson. He's known Sybil her entire life and knows her medical history. I believe Dr. Clarkson's course of action is best for Sybil and the baby."
"I disagree, Cora," replied Robert. "Sir Philip knows what he is doing. He has delivered numerous babies before. I know you're worried about Sybil, but she will be fine."
However, Cora refused to end the discussion, resulting in plenty of back and forth comments between her and Robert. Isobel watched from the sidelines. While she agreed with Dr. Clarkson's diagnosis of toxemia, she couldn't believe that no one was discussing this matter with Sybil and Tom. It was up to them as to whether or not Sybil should have a caesarian or not. Deciding to take matters into her own hands, Isobel discreetly left the library and headed back up to Sybil's room.
She was just outside the door, which was slightly ajar, when Isobel heard the pair talking.
"Tom, you're overreacting."
"Maybe. But I feel as if we're not being told something. That we're not being considered while everyone else makes decisions."
Sybil was about to speak when Isobel entered the room.
"I wish I could say I'm sorry for interrupting, but Tom isn't overreacting."
Tom had been pacing when Isobel came into the room, and turned toward her.
"What?" asked Tom.
"You two are being kept in the dark."
Tom and Sybil looked at each other, each reading the worry on the other's face. Tom swiftly moved to sit next to Sybil on the bed, taking her left hand in his right, already silently praying. Please God. Please don't take them from me.
Sybil tightened her grip on Tom's hand and looked at Isobel. "What aren't we being told?"
"Dr. Clarkson thinks you are toxemic, Sybil. Sir Philip doesn't agree, and right now your parents are battling over who is right."
"What do you think?" asked Tom
Isobel took a deep breath and looked straight at the couple. "I agree with Dr. Clarkson. Sybil, your blood pressure is high, your ankles are swollen and the protein levels in your urine are elevated. All of which are strong-"
"-indications of toxemia," interrupted Sybil, looking down at her and her husband's entwined hands.
"What's the treatment?" asked Tom.
Sybil knew what the recommended courses of treatment would be, but couldn't bear to tell Tom. Thankfully, Isobel didn't hesitate.
"There are two courses of treatment. Labour can be induced or a caesarian section can be performed. However, the drug that induces labour can cause uterine rupture. With Sybil's health already compromised, Dr. Clarkson thinks the best course of action is to take Sybil to the hospital and perform a caesarian section."
Tom's face paled, and he squeezed his wife's hand. He needed to ask one more question, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.
"And if we don't agree, what could happen?"
"Either Sybil, the baby or both of them could die."
Tom swore he felt his heart drop into his stomach. It felt like his worst nightmares were seeping into reality. All he could think was let's go. Let's go right now. I'll carry her there in my arms if I have to.
As if reading his mind, Isobel said, "Tom, a caesarian is not risk free. It's a surgical procedure which always comes with risks. Not to mention the risk of post-operative infection." She paused and looked at the pair. Sybil already knew all of this and seemed calm and ready to act. Tom looked like his whole world was about to end. She added for his benefit, "However, I believe that if you two act swiftly, the risks will be minimized. I trust Dr. Clarkson and I trust the hospital's nurses to take extra special care of one of their own. I'm going to give you some time to discuss this together. I'll wait outside."
With that, Isobel headed out the door. As soon as the door was shut, Sybil and Tom looked at one another.
"What do you think, love?"
Sybil took a deep breath. "I agree with Dr. Clarkson and Cousin Isobel. I think a caesarian is the best course of action. Are you fine with this?"
"Love, you and the baby could die no matter what we decide. Of course I'm not fine. But I know one thing at the moment. I trust you and if you think going to the hospital is for the best, then that's our decision. I'll fight your corner-"
"-our corner."
"-our corner with anyone who tries to challenge our decision, physically if I have no choice. I'll get Mrs. Crawley back in here to help me pack a bag for you."
He kissed her on the head, got up and opened the door to call Isobel in the room to tell her their decision. Tom paused when he saw Edith waiting with Isobel, wondering if Isobel had told her what was happening. Both women turned when they heard the door open.
Edith answered his question before he could ask it. "Isobel's told me everything. Have you two made a decision?"
Tom nodded his head and beckoned them into the room. They told Edith and Isobel their decision and it was quickly decided that Edith would bring the car around and drive the Bransons and Dr. Clarkson to the hospital. While she went to get the car, Isobel helped Tom pack a bag. As soon as they were done, she went downstairs with the bag to wait for the car. Before helping Sybil out of bed, Tom opened the drawer of his nightstand and grabbed his rosary beads, cross and the patron saint medals his mother gave him before he first came to Yorkshire, as well as the ones she had given Sybil. He hastily put the cross on and shoved the medals and the rosary into his trouser pockets. Not bothering to put his jacket on, Tom turned to Sybil, picked her up and began to head into the hallway.
"Tom, I can walk."
"I know, Syb, but I need to feel useful right now. Because God knows I won't be able to help you at the hospital."
The car was outside when they got downstairs. Upon seeing them, Isobel opened the car door for Tom and he gently placed Sybil in the car. He told Edith that he would be back shortly with Dr. Clarkson.
Sybil grabbed his hand before he could head back into the house. "Promise me you won't punch anyone, especially papa."
"I will only punch anyone as a last resort. I'm hoping it won't come to that."
"How about I go with Tom in case he needs assistance and someone to hold him back," said Isobel.
Tom nodded in agreement, kissed Sybil on the forehead and briskly headed back into the house. Mentally, he was preparing for a fight. He didn't even pause when he arrived at the library door. He just opened it, not caring if he was interrupting.
"Pardon me, but Dr. Clarkson, Edith is out front with the car. Sybil's waiting in it to go to the hospital."
For a moment, everyone was stunned by Tom's interruption and words. Dr. Clarkson was the first to come to his senses, smiling when he saw Isobel behind Tom, realizing she must have talked to the Bransons herself.
"Very good, Mr. Branson. I'll go there right now and wait for you."
He was heading for the library door when both Robert and Sir Philip recovered from their shock.
Robert spoke first. "What are you talking about?"
Tom took a deep breath and looked his father-in-law in the eye before he spoke.
"While the four of you were down here discussing my wife's health and the health of our unborn child, Mrs. Crawley told us that Dr. Clarkson believes Sybil has toxemia, but that Sir Philip disagreed."
Sir Philip rounded on Isobel. "What were you thinking? Needlessly worrying Lady Sybil. There is nothing wrong with her."
"My wife and I disagree. We asked Mrs. Crawley, a former nurse, her opinion, and she agreed with Dr. Clarkson. It was my wife's decision to go to the hospital and I support her decision, and I trust my wife, Nurse Branson, when it comes to medical decisions."
Robert's face darkened at Tom calling Sybil Nurse Branson. "You are ignoring sound medical advice! I absolutely forbid you to take Sybil to the hospital!"
Tom's jaw clenched at his father-in-law's use of forbid, his mind returning to the night Sybil and him told her family about their engagement. He wanted to tell him to sod off, but forced himself to choose his words carefully.
"With all due respect, it's not your decision to make or forbid. It's Sybil's and mine. And we made a decision and it's final!"
Cora had been standing there watching as her husband and son-in-law verbally sparred. She felt ashamed when Tom stated that they were making decisions about Sybil and the baby without talking to them. As much as she still thought of Sybil as her baby, his words were a reminder that she was a grown woman. Cora was also impressed with how Tom stood his ground against Robert. For the first time, she saw what Sybil saw in him.
"Tom," Cora said. "You, Sybil, Edith and Dr. Clarkson go ahead to the hospital. Isobel, can you please accompany them? We'll follow shortly." She whispered the next part so only Tom could hear. "I'll calm him down before we get to the hospital."
Tom nodded and left the library, quickly moving towards the front entrance and the waiting car with Isobel and Dr. Clarkson following closely at his heels. He quickly got into the car, seating himself next to Sybil. The others quickly took seats in the car, and Edith began to drive.
Taking Tom's hands in her, Sybil looked at her husband. "You didn't punch anyone, did you?"
He smiled at his wife. "No, and I didn't tell your father to sod off like I wanted to."
"Why did you want to tell him to sod off?"
Isobel smirked at Sybil cursing, especially when she heard Edith gasp in the front. The Bransons, however, were not paying attention to anyone else.
"He tried to forbid me to take you to the hospital. I then informed him that it wasn't his decision to make. He didn't like that. Your mother is dealing with him at the moment."
Sybil was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "Thank you for staying your temper and fighting for us."
"There's no need to thank me, love. You know I'd do anything for you."
With that, Tom and Sybil were silent for the rest of the drive to the hospital, each silently praying and hoping for the best. Ten minutes later, Edith pulled the car up outside the hospital, and Sybil was whisked inside.
"Nurse Carter," said Dr. Clarkson, "please show Lady Sybil-"
"-Mrs. Branson," interrupted Sybil.
"Please show Mrs. Branson to a private room. We need to perform a caesarian. Once she is settled, prep the operating room."
"Yes, doctor."
"I'll go with Sybil," said Isobel.
Dr. Clarkson looked at Tom and spoke, "Mr. Branson, we need to settle Mrs. Branson into a room before we operate. I'll have one of the nurses tell you when we bring her into the operating room. You can wait over there."
"Can I stay with her until she goes in for the operation?"
Dr. Clarkson hesitated, never having a man request to be with his wife during labour before.
"Please, Dr. Clarkson," Tom softly said.
He looked up at the young man before him, a pleading look in his eyes, and he did not have the heart to tell him no.
He nodded at Tom and said, "Just until we need to prep her. Then you'll have to wait out here."
Tom gave the doctor a small smile. "Thank you. I'll do as you say. I just want to be with her right now."
He nodded at Dr. Clarkson and then walked in the direction that Sybil and Isobel had gone moments before. Tom briskly walked and soon found Sybil in the last room at the end of the corridor.
"Hello, love."
Sybil looked up and gave him a small smile. Tom saw the worry and fear in her eyes, and he was certain she could see the same in his. He wanted and needed to talk to her in private.
"Mrs. Crawley, may Sybil and I," he paused to find the right words, not wanting to insult her, "have some time alone?"
She looked between Tom and Sybil briefly and nodded her head. "Of course. I'll go to the waiting room. Someone should be there when Cousin Cora and Cousin Robert arrive."
"Thank you, Cousin Isobel," said Sybil.
The older woman smiled and left the couple alone. Tom went over to Sybil and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a hold of her hands.
"What can I do?"
"You're doing it, Tom. Just being here with me right now is bringing me comfort."
Sybil looked down at their entwined hands and whispered, "I'm scared."
"Me too."
"I could die."
"I know."
"The baby…"
"I know."
They sat in silence, holding on to each other, trying to stave off their worst fears. After twenty minutes, Dr. Clarkson and a nurse came to check on Sybil.
"How are you, Mrs. Branson?" asked Dr. Clarkson.
"I'm nervous Dr. Clarkson." Sybil saw the nurse and greeted her, remembering her from when she worked at the hospital during the war. "Hello, Nurse Sims."
"Hello, Mrs. Branson."
"Now Mrs. Branson, or Nurse Branson as your husband pointed out earlier, do you want me to take you through the procedure?"
Tom instinctively squeezed Sybil's hand. As much as he wanted to know, there was a greater part of Tom that didn't want to know all the details. Sybil, sensing this, took charge.
"No, I know how a caesarian is performed, Dr. Clarkson. I assisted with several births when I worked in Dublin. And I think Tom understands its main purpose."
Tom simply nodded, too afraid that if he spoke, his voice would betray his fears.
"Very well. I'll be using ether to put you under. I assume you know the side effects?"
"I do, but Tom does not."
He turned to Tom. "Would you like to know the side effects of the ether anesthesia?"
Again, Tom nodded.
"The side effects of ether include vomiting and nausea post-operation. In addition, unconsciousness can last for up to three hours, and the patient, in this case Mrs. Branson, can appear pale, grey or blue skinned due to a lack of oxygen."
Tom eyes widened at the last part and he reflexively squeezed Sybil's hand. Upon seeing his reaction, Dr. Clarkson decided not to mention that ether was flammable. He probably knows this already and if he doesn't I'm not going to tell him. Poor man looks terrified enough as it is.
"I know the side effects are unpleasant. I wish there was another form of anesthesia on hand that I trusted. However, I do not have nitrous oxide here and I do not trust the use of chloroform. I'm sorry.
"I understand, Dr. Clarkson. Thank you," said Sybil. He didn't mention it's flammability. Good. Tom doesn't need to hear that at the moment.
"Very well. It's time I prepped for the operation. I will leave Nurse Sims here to monitor you."
Sybil nodded. "Can Tom stay until I'm taken into the operating room?"
The good doctor nodded. "I've already given him my permission to stay until you need to be prepared for surgery."
He then left the room, leaving Sybil and Tom with the nurse.
After he left, Nurse Sims began to talk to Sybil and Tom. "I wish I was seeing you again under better circumstances. I'm not going to tell you not to be nervous. Either of you. But we'll make sure to take extra care of you." She looked at Tom and added, "I promise."
Tom nodded his head in thanks. After that, talking ceased amongst the group, as the reality of what was happening really began to sink in. After some time, Nurse Carter entered the room and told them the operating room was ready and that it was time to prepare Sybil for surgery. They looked at each other, still holding hands, realizing this was it.
Sybil looked at Tom and squeezed his hand. There was so much she wanted to say to him. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how she was so grateful he waited for her, and how she didn't deserve a husband as wonderful as him.
Tom looked at Sybil as she squeezed his hand. There was so much he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how happy she made him, and how he didn't deserve such a loving woman as his wife.
But there was no time.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Branson, but you need to go to the waiting area now. We need to prepare Mrs. Branson for surgery."
He leaned in and kissed Sybil gently on the lips, then hugged her and inhaled her scent, hoping and praying this would not be the last time he did these things.
"I love you," he whispered into her ear.
She whispered back, "I love you, Tom."
Tom stood up and forced himself to leave. Nurse Sims followed close behind and guided him to the waiting area.
"Has any of Sybil's family arrived?"
"Lord and Lady Grantham arrived fifteen minutes ago. His Lordship looked thunderous when he arrived. Mrs. Crawley ushered them into Dr. Clarkson's office."
"God, I'm not in the mood to deal with him." He paused. "I'm sorry about that."
Nurse Sims waved him off. "No need to apologize, Mr. Branson. Mrs. Crawley anticipated this and directed me to bring you to the waiting area. She also emphasized that you were to be told how Mrs. Branson's caesarian went before anyone else."
"I don't care what anyone says about her, right now I'm grateful to her. And to you," he hastily added, not wanting to offend the nurse taking care of his wife.
Nurse Sims gave him a small smile. "Thank you, Mr. Branson. The waiting area is right there," she said pointing to a row of brown chairs. "Do you have any questions?"
"How long until I know if…?"
"I don't know. Nurse Carter and I will be assisting Dr. Clarkson. As soon as the operation's done, I'll come and tell you. I promise."
She turned and walked back down the corridor. Tom sat on one of the chairs, trying to calm his nerves. Feeling slightly suffocated, he loosened his tie and opened his collar, and unbuttoned his cuffs, haphazardly rolling his sleeves up. He began to run his hands through his hair and tap his left foot on the floor repeatedly. After some time, he wasn't sure how long, Tom saw Isobel approach him.
"She just went into the operating room. How are you, Tom?"
"Terrified. She means everything to me. They mean everything to me. I don't know what I'll do if…"
Isobel sat down next to Tom and began rubbing his back in a motherly way. If only Robert would open his eyes and mind and see how much this man loves his daughter.
After a few minutes, Tom spoke. "You don't have to stay here with me, Mrs. Crawley. These chairs aren't very comfortable. You can wait in Dr. Clarkson's office with Lord and Lady Grantham. I'll be fine here.
"Don't be silly. I'm staying here with you. At least until Mary and Matthew get here. And I don't want to be in Dr. Clarkson's office at the moment. Robert and Sir Philip are in there and words were exchanged between us earlier. Cora's dealing with them. Though don't be surprised if she joins you out here at some point. Besides, the office will be crowded soon enough. Edith went to get Cousin Violet."
Tom groaned. "I don't know if I can deal with both my father-in-law and Old Lady Grantham right now."
"Which is why I told Edith to take her time driving to and returning from Cousin Violet's. I also told her to take Cousin Violet directly to Dr. Clarkson's office when she returned."
"Thank you, Mrs. Crawley."
"It's Isobel. We are family after all."
There was no more talking after that. Tom couldn't sit still any longer. He rose from his seat and began to pace back and forth, and began running his hands through his hair again. When he noticed Isobel watching him, Tom sheepishly placed his hands in his pockets. That's when he felt the medals and his rosary beads that he'd put in his pockets earlier.
Tom pulled them out and looked at them, finding some comfort in them.
"What are those?" asked Isobel.
"These," said Tom, holding up the rosary beads, "are my rosary beads. I've had them since I received my First Communion."
"And those?"
"These are medals that my mother gave to both Sybil and me. Mine I received when I left to work at Downton. Sybil received one from my mother on our wedding day to welcome her into the family. She gave her the other a week after we told her Sybil was pregnant. Ma was thrilled." He paused for a moment. "I might need to pray."
Isobel smiled at him. "Don't let me stop you. If it will bring you comfort, you should do it."
Tom put away all of the medals except for the medal his mother gave Sybil after they announced their baby news. It was a medal of St. Margaret of Antioch. He remembered what his mother said to Sybil as she handed her the medal, her little way of showing love and protection. Pray to her when you're in labor. She'll watch over you, Sybil. He made the sign of the cross, leaned forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, and clasped his hands together with the rosary and medal between his hands. Closing his eyes, he began to pray.
Dear God, Please protect Sybil and our unborn child. They don't deserve to come to any harm. Sybil has so much she wants to see and do. She's the epitome of love, at least to me she is. She's a nurse. I know you know that, but she didn't have to become a nurse. But Sybil did because she cares and always wants to help. Think of all the good she can still do. And the baby…We were overjoyed when we found out about the baby. Sybil especially. We've loved the baby since we found out about him or her. So, please, please protect them.
Tom then began praying to St. Margaret, repeating the same words over and over again. St. Margaret, please protect Sybil and the baby. St. Margaret, please protect Sybil and the baby. St. Margaret, please protect Sybil and the baby…
He kept praying, going back and forth between God and St. Margaret, hoping for some divine protection for his family. He prayed and prayed, begging at times for his wife and child's safety. He didn't hear people come and go. He heard nothing but his own thoughts, swirling around in his head.
Tom was brought out of his invocations by someone shaking his arm. He looked up to see Nurse Sims standing over him. He popped up, bracing himself for the worst.
"Is Sybil…"
"Mrs. Branson did beautifully. The caesarian went smoothly and she's already showing signs of improvement."
"And the baby?"
"Your daughter is healthy and beautiful. You're going to have to lock your doors to keep the boys away."
Tom beamed at the news. They're okay. They're safe. My girls are safe. It then hit him that he had a daughter. He hoped for a little girl from the moment Sybil told him she was expecting. He closed his eyes for a moment. God and St. Margaret, thank you.
Out of nowhere, Tom felt a slap on his back and turned his head to see Matthew, with Mary right next to him. Turning to the left, he saw his mother-in-law right next to him. He had no idea that they had been sitting with him.
"How long have you all been here with me?" asked a very confused Tom.
Matthew laughed. "For a while. I went to speak to you when we got here and my mother threatened me with death if I disturbed you. She said that you were praying and it was the calmest she'd seen you since just before telling you and Sybil about Sybil's condition. Wisely I listened to her."
"I owe her so much."
He turned back to Nurse Sims. "Can I see my daughter? Please."
"Of course! Follow me."
Tom followed close behind Nurse Sims, eager to meet his daughter. For the first time in hours, he felt relief and happiness. He truly believed that if they could get through this, they would get through anything.
Nurse Sims opened a door and Tom walked into a room filled with bassinets. She walked across the room and stopped at the last bassinet. He followed slowly, a little nervous to be meeting his daughter. The baby was already in Nurse Sims arms by the time he reached the bassinet. She handed the baby to him gently and he looked down at his daughter.
Tom gasped. She was absolutely beautiful. He felt like his heart would burst with love for this little person he just met. It both shocked and scared him at the same time. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She wasn't bald, but she only had some fuzz on her head. He moved the blanket and began to count her fingers. He melted a little when he saw them. They were ten of the tiniest fingers he'd ever seen. Tom then went to count her toes. Ten as well. He leaned down and kissed her on her cute, little nose. She opened her eyes when he did that, and Tom was surprised at the little blue orbs staring back at him. She has my eyes. I can't believe Sybil and I made her. She's so beautiful. He felt tears come to his eyes.
"Hello little one. I'm your da."
His daughter just yawned and closed her eyes.
Tom spoke softly to her. "Too tired to stay awake for your da? That's alright. You've had a very busy day."
He began to gently rock her in his arms, singing a lullaby to her to help her fall back to sleep. After about ten minutes, Tom looked up at Nurse Sims. "She's asleep."
"I'll put her back in her bassinet." She took his daughter from his arms and Tom felt sad. He wanted to keep holding her. She gently placed the baby in the bassinet and turned back to him.
"Would you like to see your wife, Mr. Branson? She's not awake yet, but I thought you would like to sit with her."
"Yes, I would. I need to see her," replied Tom.
They quietly exited the nursery and began the long walk to Sybil's bed. Tom was deep in thought as they walked. He knew the Crawleys would want to see the baby as soon as possible, but it didn't feel right for the family to see the baby before Sybil did. He thought about the problem as they walked, only making a decision once they arrived at Sybil's bed.
"Nurse Sims, can I ask you for two favors?"
She nodded. "You can, Mr. Branson."
"Can you make sure no one else sees the baby yet? I want Sybil to meet her daughter before the rest of the family. And can you bring my mother-in-law here? I know she's been worried about Sybil and I want to explain my decision to her."
"Yes, Mr. Branson."
Then she left, leaving Tom alone with an unconscious Sybil. He noticed a chair was beside the bed. He pulled it up so he could face Sybil. He sat down and took a hold of her hand. He thought he'd be relieved that Sybil made through the surgery, but with her lying so still and her skin so pale, the fear that had left him quickly returned.
"I'm here, love. I'm here. I'm not leaving you alone."
Tom brought Sybil's hand to his lips and gently kissed it, then moved their enjoined hands to over his chest to his heart. He bent his head down, keeping her hand pressed against his lips, watching his beloved wife for any signs of waking.
Tom was so absorbed in watching Sybil, he didn't hear Cora approach.
"Tom?"
He jumped a little, startled by the sound of someone speaking. He turned and saw his mother-in-law.
"I thought you would like to see Sybil yourself," he said to her.
"I do. Thank you."
Tom stood up so she could sit down. She gladly took the seat and gazed at Sybil, Tom noticing the worry that was etched on her face for the first time that day. He'd been so scared about losing Sybil and the baby, he hadn't thought about what her parents had been going through.
"Lady Grantham, I'm sorry if…if-"
Cora didn't let him finish. "There's no need to apologize Tom. You were afraid you were going to lose your family. I didn't exactly consider you or my daughter this afternoon. And please call me Cora."
"I don't think his Lordship would like that."
"His Lordship will just have to deal with it," she said with a bit of anger in her voice, though Tom was pretty sure it wasn't directed at him.
He decided to talk to Cora about the baby. "About the baby-"
"How is she?" she interrupted again.
Tom smiled, both at the mention of his daughter and the fact that he just saw where Sybil got a bit of her personality. "She's perfect and beautiful and so tiny. I didn't fall in love with Sybil that quickly."
"When can we see her?"
"Tomorrow. I want Sybil to see her first." He stopped afraid that he'd just offended Cora (God, it's going to be odd to call her that).
In his fear, he began to ramble. "Not that I don't want the family to see the baby, it's just that Sybil's been looking forward to meeting the baby since she first found out she was expecting, probably since she first suspected she was with child. And she did all the work with the pregnancy and it just doesn't feel right for everyone to see and meet her before Sybil does."
"Are you finished?" asked Cora.
He nodded.
"Good. I agree with you. As much as I want to meet my granddaughter, I know how I would have felt if I was in Sybil's position. And Tom, don't worry about the rest of the family. I'll take care of them, especially His Lordship."
"Thank you." He paused, hesitating to ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue. However, his curiosity got the best of him. "Can I ask why you're angry with the Earl?"
"Yes. He made some rude comments and he refuses to see how the caesarian was the best decision for Sybil and the baby. Basically, it's he's right and everyone else is wrong. Honestly, I'm tired of it at the moment."
Tom thought for a moment over what Cora just said. "I won't stop him from seeing Sybil and the baby tomorrow, but if he upsets Sybil at all, I will tell him to leave. I don't care if he tosses me out of Downton."
"Don't worry about that. I won't let him." She gave Sybil one last look and stood up. "I'm going to leave you two. Will you be coming home tonight?"
He bit back a comment about Downton not being home, instead focusing on the matter at hand. "I doubt it. She hasn't woken up yet, and I can't bear the thought of leaving them here."
"I thought so. I had Alfred pack a bag for you and I brought it with me. I'll give it to Isobel and you can go there in the morning and change. Bye."
Cora then left the Bransons. Tom returned to the chair and holding Sybil's hand. Again, he began watching for any sign that she was waking, needing to see Sybil awake before he could start relaxing.
The nurses came and went. Dr. Clarkson came to check on Sybil and tried to encourage Tom to leave for the night. He ignored everyone and remained firm: he was staying. As the minutes slipped by, the emotional turmoil of the day finally began to wear on Tom. Before he knew it was happening, he fell asleep, still clutching Sybil's hand.
Sybil felt like she was stuck in a bog. Her limbs felt heavy, so heavy that it was as though they couldn't move. She felt a searing pain in her abdomen, which was followed by a wave of nausea. Ever so slowly, she forced her eyes to open, blinking them several times. The first thing she noticed was the sweet, almost cloying smell of ether. She shifted a little and felt a stab of pain in her abdomen. Instinctively, her right hand went to her stomach. It was then that Sybil noticed that she was no longer carrying the baby. She began to panic, before the memory of the day's events all came flooding back to her. Tom telling her about the uneasy feeling he was having, being told by Cousin Isobel that Dr. Clarkson believed she was suffering from toxemia, the mad dash to the hospital, sitting with Tom and confessing her fears and his whispered words of love. Tears began to spring to Sybil's eyes, overwhelmed by all that had happened
Feeling some air blowing against her hand, Sybil looked down and to her left, seeing the honey colored hair of her husband. He was leaning forward on a chair, practically falling off it, with their hands entwined and his head and face practically on the bed. Sybil gazed at her husband and was about to wake him when she took in the state of his appearance. His hair was disheveled and sticking up in places, his tie was loosened and his collar was open and his sleeves were sloppily rolled up his arms. Sybil knew her husband well enough to recognize the signs of distress in him.
She wanted Tom to wake up right now, to make sure she really was awake. Yet, part of her didn't have the heart to wake him, knowing and seeing how the day had worn at him. She settled for gazing at him for a few minutes, watching him sleep and seeing him at peace for the first time in weeks. As the end of her pregnancy approached, Sybil had experienced more fatigue than she had during her second trimester. Most nights, she went to bed before him, knowing it would take her a long time to find a comfortable position. She'd only seen Tom the last few weeks when he was awake, and in the light of day, he was always tense. He's been so lost since we came back to Downton, and papa hasn't made it easy. Always throwing disparaging comments at him. As if Tom didn't feel guilty enough about everything that had happened in Ireland. Which was only made worse with the baby… As soon as Sybil thought of the baby, a little mewling began. She turned her head towards the sound, and saw her baby in a little bassinette to her right. However, the movement brought on another wave of nausea, and she squeezed Tom's hand, waking him up.
Tom looked at Sybil, blinking his eyes a few times as he grew accustomed to being awake. Then his eyes widened as he realized Sybil was awake.
"Sybil? How are you? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?"
She closed her eyes. "I'm nauseas and my abdomen hurts."
She looked at him, her eyes full of relief and happiness, and squeezed his hand again to make sure she really was awake. When he squeezed back, she let out a breath. The baby was still making noise, demanding the attention of both of her parents.
Turning her head toward the baby, she said, "I think someone wants our attention."
He grinned, more like beamed, at her. "Our little girl wants our attention."
Sybil's head turned towards Tom, tears streaming down her face. "A girl? We have a girl?!"
Tom nodded, welling up a bit himself. "And she's absolutely perfect and beautiful. Like her mother."
"I want to hold her. I need to."
"I know. And you will. But first, I need to let the nurse and Dr. Clarkson know that you're awake."
"No need, Mr. Branson. I was coming to check on Mrs. Branson when I heard you two," said Dr. Clarkson as he entered the room followed closely behind by a nurse.
Sybil gave the doctor a small smile. "Can I see my baby, please?"
The doctor smiled at her. "Yes, I just want to see how you're doing, since you were the one with the health problem. I'm going to have the nurse take your blood pressure. We've checked it periodically while you were unconscious, and it has improved. However, I want to see how it is with you awake. I will also need to test your urine to make sure the protein levels are decreasing. Once we've run these tests, you can hold your daughter. Agreed?"
"I doubt I have an actual say in the matter."
"No, you don't, but I've found since coming to Downton Village the easiest way to deal with a Crawley woman is to be in agreement with her."
Sybil and Tom both laughed, thinking of Dr. Clarkson's run-ins with both Isobel and the Dowager.
"Now Mrs. Branson, how are you feeling?"
"My abdomen hurts, as expected. I'm also nauseas from the anesthesia."
"Any vomiting?"
"No. I haven't been up long, but I've only been nauseas."
"Well, that's good at least. I'm going to step out while the nurse takes your blood pressure and collects a urine sample. I promised your parents that I would call when you awoke."
She nodded her head at Dr. Clarkson. After he left the room, the nurse, who had been tending to the now calm baby, took Sybil's blood pressure and collected the urine sample. The nurse, who wasn't either Nurse Sims or Nurse Carter, quickly gathered the sample and left for Dr. Clarkson to test it. Fifteen minutes later, he returned smiling.
"Mr. Branson, Mrs. Branson, the results are good. Your blood pressure is slowly normalizing. There is still protein in your urine, but I won't know for some time if the levels are dropping. Mrs. Branson, you will need to remain at the hospital for two weeks. After that, you will be able to return home for the rest of your recovery. We'll still monitor your blood pressure and urine while you stay here, and an anti-convulsant will be adminsitered until the threat of seizures passes. However, I'm optimistic that you will have a full recovery. Our main hurdle now is preventing post-operative infection. Though between you and the nurses here, I think that can be managed."
Tom spoke first, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you, Dr. Clarkson."
"Yes, thank you," Sybil said. "Now, can I see my daughter?"
Dr. Clarkson let out a loud laugh. "Yes, you may. I suspect that she'll be hungry soon."
On cue, Baby Girl Branson began whimpering again. Tom and Dr. Clarkson helped Sybil to sit up a bit, propping her up with several pillows. She winced as she moved, feeling the effects of the surgery. Once they got her situated, the nurse handed a waiting Sybil her daughter.
Sybil looked down at the bundle and she was mesmerized. She forgot about everyone else around her. She was busy falling head over heels in love with her little girl. She was the most beautiful baby in the world. Sybil was taking stock of her, trying to see who she looked like, but she wasn't able to. She doesn't have any hair, but a fine little layer of fuzz. I'll need to keep her in bonnets to keep her head warm. Sybil continued to gaze upon her, completely captivated. As she looked at her, their daughter opened her eyes, revealing Tom's blue eyes staring back at Sybil. She welled up when she saw that. She has Tom's eyes. She's so beautiful.
Sybil didn't have time to think anything else. The baby continued mewling, hungry and demanding to be fed. Dr. Clarkson took his leave then, and the nurse and Tom helped Sybil get into a comfortable position to breast feed, placing a pillow on her lap to prevent the baby from lying on her stitches. It took another ten minutes for the baby to latch on, but once she did, she fed greedily. The nurse then left the little family alone.
Tom sat down on the chair, pulling it closer to the bed, watching as his wife fed their daughter. As he watched them together, it hit home how close he came to losing one or both of them. If Isobel hadn't shown up when she did, would they even be here right now?
He was taken from his thoughts by Sybil's teasing voice. "You're looking awfully hard at the moment. It's not like you haven't seen them before."
Tom chuckled at her remark. "I'm amazed at the moment. She's so beautiful, Syb."
"I know. Did you see her eyes?"
He nodded, beaming at his wife. This was as it should be. The two of them sitting together, gushing over their baby girl. This felt right.
"I have to tell you something. I was hoping that the baby, boy or girl, would have your eyes."
"Really?"
"Yes. One of the first things I fell in love with was your eyes. I know the saying is that someone wears their heart on their sleeve, but you wear your heart in your eyes. How could I not want my child to have those eyes?"
Tom was speechless, which was a rare thing to behold. He leaned over and kissed Sybil softly on her temple and whispered, "Thank you."
Sybil smiled at Tom and then returned to the baby. There was silence for several minutes as they watched their daughter eat.
It was Sybil who broke the silence. "She needs a name."
"I know. We have the list of names we like."
"She doesn't look like a Kathleen."
"No, she doesn't. But Ma won't be upset." He paused. "She definitely doesn't look like a Violet."
Sybil laughed. "Definitely not. Not imperious enough."
Tom laughed at that. They spent the next ten minutes going through their list of girl names, eliminating each one.
"Rose doesn't fit her either," said Sybil, eliminating the last name on their list.
It was then that the baby pulled away from Sybil's breast, her little belly full. Tom got up to help Sybil cover herself up. He then held out his arms to his daughter. His wife gave him a look, almost accusing him of taking the baby away from her.
"Don't look at me like that. We made an agreement months ago, remember. When we're both around, you feed and I wind. This part is my job. Besides, you got to hold her longer than I did."
Sybil smiled at her husband, then leaned down and kissed her daughter on her cute, little nose before handing her to Tom. He sat back down on the chair and began to gently unwrap the baby from her blankets. He grabbed a cloth off the side table, placed her on to his left shoulder and softly started patting her back.
Now it was Sybil's turn to watch her husband and daughter. She thought about how close she came to not having this. If one thing had gone differently today, she might not be here right now. Or heaven forbid, the baby might not be here. She shivered a little at the thought.
She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of her daughter burping. Tom quickly swaddled the baby and held her in his arms, gazing adoringly at her. Sybil smiled at the sight. He's as in love with her as I am.
"I have an idea for a name, but I'm not sure you'll like it," said Tom.
"As we've eliminated all the names on our list, I don't see how it can hurt to share your idea with me," she replied.
"How about Margaret?"
"Margaret Branson…I like it. But why Margaret?"
Tom gave her a sheepish look. Now her curiosity was peaked.
"You promise not to laugh?"
"Yes."
"I spent the entire time you were in surgery praying to God and St. Margaret of Antioch to watch over the both of you. I didn't make any promise to name the baby after her, but since you both are okay, I thought it would be a nice tribute to her."
Sybil smiled. She couldn't believe he thought she would laugh. She knew her husband. If he was praying, he was terrified. "I think that would be a lovely tribute to her." She laughed then, remembering something her mother-in-law told her about St. Margaret. "And it's quite fitting since today is her feast day."
Tom looked at his wife, confused to how she knew that. Sybil just laughed.
"Your mother told me that. How else would I have known?"
"True."
"Well, we're agreed on Margaret for a first name. Now we need a middle name. I have an idea for one."
"So do I."
They looked at each other and said at the same time, "Isobel."
Tom and Sybil laughed, pleased that they both agreed without even needing to discuss it that they needed to honor Isobel for all that she had done for them that day.
With their daughter still in his arms, Tom moved over to sit on the side of the bed, and gently placed the baby into Sybil's arms. He then gently wrapped his arms around his wife, resting his hands on the baby, holding the two most important people in his world.
Looking down at her daughter, Sybil said, "Welcome to the world, Margaret Isobel Branson."