Their Miracle Baby

Chapter 1: Spring, Summer, and Autumn of 1967

Based upon Call the Midwife, developed by Heidi Thomas

Sidebar 1: Written between Series' 5 and 6, so nothing that occurred in Series 6 or beyond has any bearing on this story, and if you're not current through Series 5, proceed with caution. I don't believe there's anything here that would spoil anything beyond Series 3.

- - Poplar, Late Spring 1967 - -

From the very beginning, they called it their Miracle Baby. Following the heartbreaking diagnosis eight years ago, she had thought she was barren. They all had. Her husband, her son, her Nonnatun family. The weight had been crushing. But, she had persevered. She had had Patrick and Timothy. And then Angela became the light of her life.

Now here she was: firmly ensconced in the "Elderly Primigravida" category, with a husband who not entirely certain he was young enough for another child, a son studying to be a physician, and a precocious daughter who was (if you asked said daughter) precisely six and one half years old.

It had caught her surprise: the pregnancy. At first, she hadn't noticed anything at all. Her menstrual cycles had been erratic - to say the least - since early in the treatment of her tuberculosis. She often went several months with no cycle at all. After her diagnosis eight years ago, it became very easy for her to ignore them (or the lack of them) all together. Therefore, when her cycle stopped for several consecutive weeks, Shelagh paid it no mind.

Then, she begun to feel the fatigue and the nausea. She had had several bouts of morning sickness, which - at the time - were chalked up to a stomach virus brought home from school by Angela. Angela, herself, had not been sick. But, still, that was the most logical explanation.

Then she experienced the change in appetite and the change in waistline. These were attributed to stress or to perhaps even The Change. Yes, she was young for Menopause, but only the Lord knew what tuberculosis had done to her body.

It was Timothy who first noticed something. Of course, he had been away at University, and only home for a long weekend when he noticed it. He had not seen his mother in several weeks, so the change in her visual appearance was striking. He was not surprised in the least that his father hadn't noticed. Timothy spent the majority of that weekend trying to decide how to broach the subject.

Fortunately, he didn't have to.

They had been sitting on the settee, chatting about Timothy's classes. They had been there all afternoon.

The clock on the mantel chimed.

Mum looked up at it and blanched. "The time! I have to get Angela!" She stood quickly, too quickly.

"Mum!" Timothy caught her as she fainted. He laid her on the settee, elevating her feet on the arm. He checked her pulse and respiration, and found them satisfactory. He ran to the study to retrieve the stethoscope from his father's spare medical bag and immediately listened to his mother's heart and lungs.

Seeing this as a convenient chance to investigate his hypothesis, he took a deep breath before putting the diaphragm against her abdomen. He was laughing softly when Mum's eyes fluttered.

"Goodness," she commented bringing her hand to her head, before realizing what Timothy was doing. She wore a terrified expression when she met Timothy's grinning gaze. He handed her the earpieces and waited for her to hear.

She covered her mouth and nose with her hands as tears streamed down her face, she started to shake. A heartbeat. He knew - from living with a doctor and a midwife - that that meant twenty weeks or more.

"Mum," Timothy pulled away the stethoscope and pulled her into his arms.

When she regained her voice, they laughed together.

Patrick had gotten a little light headed when they told him, but there wasn't another fainting episode because they had preemptively told him sit.

Stunned and concerned, they immediately phoned Nonnatus House. Thank goodness it was Sister Mary Cynthia who answered the telephone. Within the hour, she and Sister Julienne arrived and performed a brief exam in the comfort and privacy of Shelagh and Patrick's bedroom, whilst Patrick and Timothy waited downstairs, attempting to entertain Angela. Angela didn't understand what all the excitement was about, but wanted to be a part of it.

As Shelagh made her way down the stairs and into the living room, Patrick called Angela over to him. She was too excited to sit, but stood - mostly calm - between his knees. Shelagh crouched down, eye level with her daughter.

"God has given us a miracle, Angela," she said. "We're going to have a baby."

"When are we going to get Baby?" Angela asked. A logical question, for an adopted child who knew she was adopted.

Patrick chuckled. "No, my love, we're not adopting another baby," he told her gently. "Mummy is carrying Baby in her tummy. And when it's grown, Sisters Mary Cynthia and Julienne will come and help deliver it."

Angela nodded, having full understanding of what her extended family did for a living. "When?" she asked, looking up into her parents' faces.

Shelagh looked directly into his eyes for a second, or two, before turning back to their daughter. "Christmas."

Thus began her life as a spectacle. If she had thought things had been uncomfortable when she first left the religious life, she had been sorely mistaken. There was no place she could go, or thing she could do without people pointing, staring, and speaking in hushed tones.

She knew worrying was not good for the baby, especially in a pregnancy such as hers, but she could not help herself. Being the curiosity of the community was not helpful either. Patrick threatened to confine her to bedrest if her blood pressure didn't go down.

The support from Nonnatus House was invaluable. She often attended Chapel with her Sisters. And she received weekly shipments of knitted and crocheted items for Baby. They insisted that six or seven or eight caps were required for a winter baby, but Shelagh knew they were simply filled with nervous energy. The nervous energy became all the more apparent when she started receiving ornately embroidered items of lighter material. "It'll be summer eventually," Sister Winifred commented.

Timothy called once or twice a week. His studies kept him busy, but Shelagh was immensely grateful he made the time. They talked about anything and everything from local news, to his latest lecture, to her experiences in pregnancy (he was still undecided on becoming a general practitioner, like Patrick, or a psychologist).

And, of course, there was Angela and Patrick. An eternally joyful child, Angela was full of excitement and questions. Namely, she was interested when Baby would arrive and when she would be able to play with Baby. Patrick was kind and gentle, as he always was. During the day, he ensured she ate nutritious meals, received enough rest, and massaged her feet and ankles when she was tired. During the night, he rested his hands on her expanding abdomen, and never spoke of his fears. He didn't need to. She knew.

With all the preparations and anticipations, they were not prepared when the time came.

- - End Chapter 1 - -