Prologue: Winter 1965

"I can't!" whimpered Rhoda Mullucks, as she collapsed back onto the delivery couch.

"Yes you can," encouraged Shelagh, "we're right here with you." Shelagh squeezed Rhoda's hand and glanced across her patient to Nurse Anderson.

The younger nurse smoothed back Rhoda's hair, "You're a strong woman, Mrs Mullucks, and your body knows just what to do."

"That's right, Rhoda," Shelagh continued. "Doctor says he can see the head; now on your next contraction I want you to give us a big push."

Rhoda nodded weakly, but her face was set with a convincing tenacity. Shelagh smiled with relief and thought back to the day when she had confirmed Rhoda's fourth pregnancy.

"But I've gone through the change!" Rhoda had exclaimed. "It's not possible!" She shook her head in disbelief as Shelagh explained the window of fertility that often remained at the start of menopause, especially in the case of early-onset menopause as Rhoda's had been. Shelagh had empathised with her over the shock of a surprise pregnancy and given her hope as well.

The decision for Rhoda to give birth at the maternity home with a full complement of doctor and two nurses was agreed upon by the entire medical team based on her age and the wide range of emotions she was experiencing with this pregnancy. The Turners, and those at Nonnatus, both knew that no one could love a child more than Rhoda loved Susan and it was her intense devotion that allowed the sweet little girl to not only survive but thrive. Nevertheless, it was clear that fear and guilt, however unreasonable, had shadowed Rhoda the past nine months and all concerned were anxious to support her to the best of their ability.

Shelagh felt Rhoda's abdomen tighten, "Contraction coming," she announced.

"Time to push," Lucille instructed. Rhoda leaned forward and bore down with a grimace and a loud groan.

"Head is born," came the report from Dr Turner. He and Shelagh smiled at each other before she turned her attention back to coaching their patient.

"That's it Rhoda, well done." Shelagh praised as Mrs Mullucks began to droop again, "one more push and you can meet your baby."

Lucille held Rhoda's other hand and kept the motivation coming, "Come on now, use all your strength, one last steady push, Mrs Mullucks."

"There we go! It's a bouncing boy!" Dr Turner declared, holding him up for his mother to see. "Now let me just cut the umbilical cord and I will hand him over for a cuddle." Patrick balanced the baby expertly on the sheet on his lap, attached the clamp and cut the cord. Lucille was ready with a towel, taking the tiny boy from the doctor's hands and presenting him to Mrs Mullucks.

The usual euphoria that followed a delivery was evident as Rhoda cooed over her newest son with motherly affection. After a few moments, Nurse Anderson gently took him from her. "Let me get baby cleaned up while Dr and Nurse Turner help you with the third stage." Rhoda nodded and let him go.

As baby and nurse left the delivery room, tears began to flow down Rhoda's cheeks as the emotions of the last few months and hours caught her up. Soon she was shaking and gasping for breath between sobs.

"There, there," Shelagh soothed, handing her a handkerchief. "You're exhausted and the hormones are wreaking havoc on your body."

"It's just," Rhoda started, then hiccuped another sob, "I shouldn't even think it, let alone say it…" she cried.

"What is it?" Shelagh asked gently.

"Thank God he's per-perfect," she choked out on a whispered breath, before dissolving into silent sobs.

"Oh, Rhoda," Shelagh murmured, her own eyes moist, "no one would blame you for thinking that." She put an arm around her and began to rub her back.

At that moment, Rhoda's body went slack just as Shelagh heard Patrick voice, "Haemorrhage!" She looked up in time to see blood overflowing the bowl he was holding to catch the placenta. Glancing back at Rhoda she saw she was as white as a sheet and lying limply against her arm.

"Patrick!" she gasped. As the blood kept coming she realised it was more than she had seen last spring when Mrs Hastings had haemorrhaged. That had been a case she'd tried hard to forget. The injection of ergometrine hadn't been enough to stop the bleeding and the flying squad had arrived too late to save her. In her mind she could still hear baby crying for the mother he would never know.

She felt as though time stood still as she processed the past and the present. Silently she cried out to God for His help in saving Rhoda, this loving mother of four children, one of whom desperately needed the fierce love only she could give. She prayed for a miracle and that their medical facilities, as well as the midwifery skills He had gifted her with, would be sufficient to save Rhoda. She wouldn't let her go without a fight.

Shelagh's eyes locked with Patrick's and she saw the same determination reflected in his gaze. Her mind returned to the present and as an experienced team they moved quickly into action.