"Well you midwifery training has definitely paid off Shelagh; you're 9 weeks pregnant! Congratulations to you, and of course to Doctor Turner"

"Thank you Cynthia. Patrick and I were so thrilled when we found out ourselves but I wanted to have someone double check, just in case we were dreaming!"

"Well you're certainly expecting! Did you want me to keep it quiet for now?"

"Thank you, yes please Cynthia. I'd like certain people to know before it gets to Trixie, and thus, the whole of Poplar"


It had seemed like only yesterday that the couple had told the nurses and nuns the news around the dining table of Nonnatus House one afternoon. The thrill and excitement of the pregnancy had taken weeks to wear off; both in the Turner household, and in Nonnatus. The following months had been filled with activity; from getting the nursery prepared, to buying items of clothing, both for Shelagh and the impending arrival. Although Shelagh had thought about the first moment that their child would be placed into her waiting arms; the long hours of labour beforehand had not worried her. She knew that after the tears and pain would come a long-awaited present. A present which had been made after a night filled with passion and love.

When the first, dull contractions had come just after 11 one night, Shelagh knew that her time had come. Patrick had been called out to a patient almost an hour prior, but she knew that once he knew, he would drop everything to be with her. Even if she did have hours still to go. As lovely as that was, she thought, the patient came first. She could wait for him. So she stretched in their bed, so that she could keep some of his side of the bed warm upon his return.

A few hours later, just as the sky had started to become slightly brighter with the dawn of a new day. Shelagh felt a cool sensation under her hips on their mattress. Slowly awakening, she rose up and placed a hand on her bump. Another contraction caused her to bite her lip in pain and swallow the moan that came with it. Shifting towards the edge of the bed, she pulled the duvet cover down her legs and a large soaked patch was revealed underneath her body. Upon realization that her waters had broken, she gasped and promptly grabbed her dressing gown from the wooden chair that sat next to the bed and slowly made her way downstairs.

Switching on the table lamp in the living room, Shelagh noticed her husband has slept, fully clothed, on the worn, golden- yellow coloured sofa, with his bare feet hanging over the end. He obviously didn't want to wake her up in order to move her to her side of the bed. A tightening of her belly caught Shelagh off guard and she groaned whilst gripping the back of the sofa. The noise had unsettled Patrick from his well deserved sleep. Barely awake, he noticed his wife standing almost at his feet, just beyond the arm of the furniture, and smiled. Since their marriage, she had never been able to sleep beyond six in the morning, and was always the first one awake in the Turner household. Then he saw her hands whiten as they gripped the sofa in front of her.

"Shelagh?!" He questioned, panic rising in his voice.

She couldn't say anything, but slowly let out a deep breath as the pain finally subsided

"Are you…? Is it….? Have your waters….?" She chuckled, and moved round to sit on the edge of the sofa by his knees; his legs now folded underneath himself. Taking hold of his right hand, she brought his palm to her lips and kissed it gently.

"We're having a baby Patrick. My waters have broken." She announced quietly. A grin appeared on his face, and his mimicked her actions on her own palm.

"I think it's time to call Nonnatus House, don't you?" Patrick said softly, but didn't bother waiting for a response and leapt up and out the room barely a second later.

By the time he came back, Shelagh had, had another two contractions, getting stronger each time. To try and get comfortable, she had tried sitting on the floor but only managed to sit in front of the sofa and grip it with all her might when her belly tightened once more. She had expected her husband to embrace her, knowing it was the final moment they were going to be together until the baby was born and cleaned up, but he didn't. He stood in the doorway of the living room, his face draining of colour.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Receiving no reply, she called "Patrick?"

"There's… there's no answer. I...I tried, but there's no answer" He repeated.