Broken Heart Can Heal

"Kathleen!" Sybil hollered from her bedroom. She was having a contraction and needed some support. Her eldest child rushed in and knelt by her mother,

"I'm here, mum." She offered her mother her hand and started to gently rub her back. Kathleen was dark haired – the spitting image of her mother, but she had slightly paler skin and her cheeks were speckled with freckles. But despite similar looks, mother and daughter had totally different personalities; when Sybil was fourteen, she would probably be found on any given day climbing a tree or searching for bugs in the soil and undoubtedly getting messy; Kathleen, however, was a totally different fourteen year old, preferring to sit in the garden and read a good book or draw and paint quietly in her bedroom. "It's alright, mum," she said, comforting her mother, as she'd done when her mother had given birth to her four other siblings. After Kathleen came two boys and then two girls – Simon, George, Blaire and Daisy. Sybil's breathing was now recovering from the erratic rhythm she had adopted during the contraction. When she could think straight, she said,

"Look, Kathleen, you've got to get one of the boys to ring the midwives and the doctor. You might want to send both of them, actually, just in case. Tell them to go to the telephone box down the road and keep ringing until they get an answer – they have to go straight there and straight back, though. I know what they're like, and they mustn't stop at the sweet shop on the way. Give them the coins on the counter in the kitchen to pay for it. There should be enough money there."

"What about dad?" Kathleen asked. "Shouldn't they ring him too?"

"Yes," Sybil said. "But I don't know whether his boss will let him leave in the middle of the day. I know he had a lot of important meetings today that he can't afford to skip." She laid her hand over the lower part of her belly where her unborn child was pushing to get out.

"Trust me, if dad knows that you're in labour, he'll destroy the entire building if that's the only way he can get here." Sybil smiled at her daughter's optimism as Kathleen walked out of the room to carry out her orders.

She walked through their small house. It was large enough for the seven of them, and one more addition wouldn't make much of a difference. It was definitely bigger and less crowded than many of the houses of Kathleen's friends who lived nearby, but when she compared it to her grandparents' house on her mother's side, it seemed tiny. But, at the same time, when she went to visit her grandparents, she often felt that almost all of the rooms in the large building were pointless and unused. Aside from bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and dining room, and a garden, what more would you really need? When she was about seven, she had come up with a plan to make every room at the Abbey more useful. She'd written down all of her ideas and even drawn some rough sketches of what the new version of it would look like, but she knew that her grandfather would never let anything change so dramatically, so she'd kept the plans to herself and they were now tucked away safely in one of the drawers of her desk. She refused to throw them away, though – they reminded her too much of her childhood.

"Simon! George!" she called up the stairs to her younger brothers. She heard a muffled reply of something like,

"What?" and "Not now, Kat!" She hated being called Kat, but she wasn't going to try and correct her brothers right now.

"Get down here and don't argue about it!" she replied loudly, raising her voice to let them know that she was serious. They knew that when Sybil and Tom weren't home, she was boss; and, in this case, with Sybil unable to even try to control her household, they knew that they'd have to pay attention to the orders of their big sister. She heard two sets of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs, along with some giggling and some rather loud chatter. She went into the kitchen and scooped the coins off the side and into her hand. The boys walked into the room behind her, laughing together about something or other. Kathleen turned to them, and emptied the money into Simon's hands. She bent down slightly to be eye-level with them and said, "Take that money, go to the phone box on the corner and ring the midwives and the doctor. Keep on ringing them until you get an answer, even if you have to ring fifty times. Tell them that mum's in labour and they've got to come immediately. Then you need to ring dad at work – do you know his work number?" Simon nodded with a straight face. "Good. Ring that number and ask to speak to dad. If they don't let you speak to him, then the next best thing is to tell them to pass on a message that he has to come home right away because the baby's on the way, okay?" Both boys nodded their heads vigorously. It was a lot of information to take in, but they liked the thrill of responsibility. "Okay, then, off you go. Be as quick as you can, boys, and as soon as you've finished with the phone, come straight back home," Kathleen said as the boys left the room, heading for the front door. She wasn't sure how reliable an eleven year old and a nine year old could be in passing on such important information to so many people, but it was her only option.

Once the boys were gone, Kathleen took a deep breath and checked again on her mother. She seemed very tired, but about as good as she could be, considering her current state. Kathleen then checked on the girls. Blaire had only ever seen her mother go through this once, but it was when she was only one, so, of course, she couldn't remember it. And Daisy, being the youngest, had never experienced anything like this. Now, being aged six and five, the two girls were sticking together and were worrying about their mother greatly. Kathleen sat with them for a couple of minutes and tried to explain what was happening to Sybil in order to calm their nerves slightly. "What's happening to mummy?" Blaire asked, genuinely very concerned. The muscles in her forehead twisted and brought her eyebrows up and together in a look of sheer worry. There were no tears in her eyes as yet, but Kathleen knew her little sister well enough to know that if she wasn't told what was going on, she'd have tear-streaked cheeks very soon.

"Okay, girls," Kathleen started, unsure how she was going to continue. She paused for a few seconds, trying to find the words to describe her mother's trauma to the two girls. "This is just what happens when someone has a new baby. Our little brother or sister is inside mummy's tummy at the moment, aren't they?" she asked. The two girls nodded gently together. But, even at the mention of a baby brother or sister, neither of them smiled. They were still too distraught by their mother's distress to think about anything happy. "Well, the baby has to come out of mummy's tummy now, but it's very painful for mummy and it takes a long time," she explained slowly.

"Is that how mummy had me?" Daisy asked.

"Yes, sweetie; that's how mummy had all of us. But sometimes things can go wrong, so she's going to need some help to push the baby out from some other people – professional people. There's going to be a special nurse and a doctor here very soon, so if there's a knock on the door, I need you girls to answer it. And when they come in, you need to show them where mum and dad's bedroom is, okay?" Both girls nodded again. "But once they're here, you need to try and stay very quiet and don't come into mum and dad's bedroom please. She can't have any distractions," Kathleen explained. The girls looked worried, but also determined. Kathleen could hear that Sybil was having another contraction, so she stood up, kissed each of her sisters on the head, shot them a loving smile and then hurried to her mother's side.

It was a further two contractions before the boys came back. They came back very loudly and Kathleen had to tell them three times to quieten down before they actually did. They had managed to get hold of the midwives and of the doctor. They had both said that they'd come to Sybil's aid as soon as possible. And, although the boys had rung Tom's work, they had said that Tom was in a meeting, so Simon and George had to be satisfied with leaving a message with Tom's boss. Kathleen was more worried about this birth than she had been with all the other births she had witnessed. Sybil's first four children had been delivered perfectly normally. Aside from some long labours, there hadn't been any complications. But when she was giving birth to Daisy, everything seemed absolutely fine until just after Daisy had been delivered, when Sybil had started to haemorrhage. The doctor had been called immediately and everything had been sorted out, but only after Sybil had lost more than a litre of blood. Everyone was absolutely broken hearted when they'd found out that Sybil's life had been risked. Everybody knew that Sybil was likely to haemorrhage for a second time, so she was now prepared for being surrounded by more medical staff than usual. Sybil knew what might be coming, but she was trying desperately to keep her mind off it. Kathleen helped her sweep her hair back into a bun at the back of her head. Her hair was still mostly dark and thick, but she knew that she was getting more grey hairs week by week. But considering she had spent the last fourteen years looking after her five children, she thought she'd held up well. She'd had Kathleen when she was twenty three years old, and now, fourteen years later, she felt that she'd lived a good life. She always enjoyed looking after her children, and although she'd settled down quite young by the standards of some, she had enjoyed her life and wouldn't do anything to change it.

Another three contractions coursed through Sybil's weakening body before the doctor finally arrived with the midwife in tow. They rapped on the door and the girls ran to the door to let them in. "Hello girls, we're here to see Sybil. Can you show us where she is?" Doctor Clarkson said, kindly. He knew the girls well and had learned over the years how to deal with them and make them feel safe, even if something disastrous was happening. The girls led them inside and down the corridor until they got to Sybil's bedroom door.

"She's in there," Blaire said quietly, pointing to the door.

"Thank you, girls," the midwife said. They didn't recognise the midwife. They'd encountered Doctor Clarkson and many of the nurses in the village hospital before, but they never remembered seeing a nurse dressed in quite the same way in which this midwife was. But, nevertheless, they knew that she was just as important as Doctor Clarkson and smiled at her when she smiled at them. The girls went back into the living room and sat in silence. A few minutes later, however, Kathleen returned from their parents' room and kneeled next to her two younger sisters.

"Why don't you girls do some drawing and colouring in?" she suggested in a low, but very kind voice. "You could draw a picture of the whole family with the new baby and then give it to the baby when it arrives. Or you could draw a picture of a butterfly to give to mummy to make her feel a bit better." The girls nodded enthusiastically at this suggestion and began suggesting other things that they could draw together. "Why don't you use the dining room table – you'll have more space there?" Kathleen suggested. The girls got off the sofa and wandered into the dining room and Kathleen grabbed some paper and coloured pencils for them, following up behind them. She stayed with them for a few more minutes and watched them draw, praising their imaginations, but then returned to her mother's room.

The midwife and doctor were doing all that they could to make Sybil comfortable, but ultimately, Sybil was the only one who knew how she felt and knew what was best for her body and unborn baby. After all, her body had gone through the same process five times before. Sybil looked dreadful. She seemed exhausted and almost unable to continue. Kathleen knew that the only thing that would help Sybil right at this moment was Tom. But he wasn't here. Without a word, she slipped out of the room again. She ran into the kitchen where Blaire and Daisy were still colouring in. They looked much more cheerful than they had five minutes ago and Kathleen was glad. She grabbed the money from the side, which had been returned there by the boys and said to the girls, "I'm just going down to the phone box, okay? I won't be long, but whilst I'm gone, you two need to stay just as quiet as you have been, and if the boys get too loud, tell them that you have my permission to tell them to shut up." The girls nodded as they continued to colour, and Kathleen kissed each of them quickly on the head. She left the house quietly, but ran down the street as fast as she could until she reached the painted red phone box. She caught her breath as she dialled the number, wasting no time at all.

"Hello?"

"Hello, can I speak to Tom Branson please?" she asked politely but firmly.

"I'll just check if he's available. One moment please," the man on the other end of the phone said. Kathleen stood and waited for him to come back and give her an answer. She had one hand on her hip and was still catching her breath when he came back. "It appears that he's in a meeting at the moment, but can I take a message for him?"

"No, I need to speak to him," Kathleen insisted. "This is his daughter – it's important."

"I'll see what I can do for you. Hold on one moment." Kathleen's heart was beating fast, not only from having run to the phone at full speed, but also because she knew the importance of getting hold of her father.

"Hello?"

"Dad!" she almost shouted down the phone. "You need to come home right now."

"What's gone wrong?" he asked, concerned at the rushed tone of his daughter's speech.

"Nothing, but mum needs you if she's going to get through this," Kathleen explained.

"Alright, I'll be as quick as I can. Thanks, darling," he said before hanging up the phone. Kathleen also hung up the phone at her end and then ran back home just as fast as she'd run to the phone box.

When she entered the house, she saw the girls colouring in, just as calm as they were when she left them. Clearly nothing distressing had happened – at least not that had been made known to them. She deposited the rest of the money back on the side and returned to be by her mother's side. Kneeling beside her mother, she said,

"Dad's on his way. He'll be here soon." Sybil said nothing in return, but nodded as she endured yet another contraction. She had to be close. The end had to be within grasping distance now, surely?

Despite Sybil's considerable pain, things hadn't progressed far when Tom arrived twenty minutes later. He had practically dropped his briefcase in the hall and taken the familiar steps through the house to his bedroom. When he opened the door, Sybil looked worn and almost unable to continue. He strode into the room and took Kathleen's place at Sybil's side, holding her hand and comforting her. Kathleen quietly left the room, allowing Sybil to have as much breathing space as possible, and sat with her sisters.

Tom held Sybil's hand, letting her squeeze as hard as she needed to. Getting her through this alive was more important than Tom's comfort at this moment in time. Sybil cried out in pain with the next contraction, feeling a desperate urge to push. "I need to push," Sybil said, more convincing herself that she could do it than asking permission.

"Do what you need to do, Sybil. With the next contraction, grab onto the backs of your knees, and push right down into the bed," the midwife said, making sure she had everything she might need in case of emergency. Sybil simply nodded, unable to make any coherent noises that could be interpreted as words. It was less than a minute before the midwife picked up on signs of another contraction. "Have you got another one coming?" she asked, getting ready to help Sybil if she needed it. Sybil nodded and shifted slightly on the bed to grab the backs of her legs. Tom kissed her quickly on the head and wished he knew what to do. Despite having been beside Sybil at the births of all five of his children, he still had no clue how he could help. Sybil was the one doing all the work and he felt like a spare part in the situation. He allowed her to slip his hand away from his to bring them up to her legs. She leant forward and put all of her power into pushing down through her body. She took a quick breath and repeated the action. "Well done, Sybil. You're doing really well. It's hard, I know, but you're nearly there. You'll only need a couple more pushes and you'll have a new baby in your arms." Tom smiled, trying to hold back the tears, but Sybil just collapsed back on the bed where she'd accumulated a rather large pile of pillows.

"You're doing a fantastic job, love," Tom said, leaning close to Sybil. "Just a couple more pushes and we'll have a new baby." His voice was soft, but a bit husky from the emotion, making his voice crack every so often. Sybil pushed herself up and prepared to push again.

"Come on now," the midwife said firmly. "One big push and its head will be out." Sybil held her breath and pushed as hard as her body would let her. It had been a longer labour than she had hoped for. She almost felt as if she was too old to cope with such a long labour. But, nevertheless, she gathered energy and courage from the knowledge that it wouldn't be much longer now and from the sense of Tom's presence beside her. "Excellent! Really well done, Sybil," the midwife said, sitting on the bed, taking charge of the life between Sybil's legs. Tom noticed that Doctor Clarkson was standing at the edge of the room. He could only assume that he was allowing the midwife to do the delivery and would only step in if and when it was needed. Tom didn't mind. He knew Doctor Clarkson well. He was Sybil's superior at the hospital and they all got on well. It was comforting, in a way, to have a doctor prepared for what might happen; to know that if anything were to go wrong, an experienced pair of hands would be there right away to assist. But Tom didn't really have time to think of the merits of having a doctor in the room before Sybil was pushing through another contraction, snatching a breath, and keeping the momentum going.

There was a cry. That was it. She'd done it. They had a new born baby. The midwife cut the cord and wiped the baby off with a clean towel before wrapping it up tightly and lifting it to be held by its mother. "It's a little girl," the midwife said quietly as she handed her to Sybil. Tom scooched onto the bed next to Sybil and put an arm around her back, as he placed his other hand over hers against the white towel covering their tiny baby daughter. The baby's tiny face was scrunched up in cries as Sybil held her close. She leant down to kiss her head and began bouncing her very gently. She barely had the energy to breathe, but mothering instincts took over her body and allowed her to be the perfect mother she needed to be.

"Oh, Tom, she's perfect," Sybil said quietly, forcing her eyes away from her child to meet her husband's.

"It was all worth it in the end, wasn't it, love?" Tom asked softly. Sybil nodded and kissed Tom gently.

"All of it," she whispered, looking back at her daughter. Tom couldn't help the tears from falling down his cheeks now. "But Tom?" she said, leaning into her husband.

"Mmm?" he said, not taking his eyes off the tiny person in front of him.

"I can't do that again, though. She's got to be the last one. Don't get me in that state again!" Everyone in the room gave a small chuckle at her words.

"If I recall correctly," Doctor Clarkson said, walking forward a few steps. "That's what you said immediately after Daisy was born." He smiled at Sybil, knowing that she had more strength in her than she knew.

"I mean it this time, though!" she said, raising her eyes to the doctor. "I can't go through that again."

"You're as much to blame as I am," Tom said, mischievously.

"Alright, alright," Sybil said, turning to Tom to place a kiss on his lips.

After a few more minutes of gazing lovingly at her baby and having decided on the name Caroline, the midwife told Sybil that the placenta was on its way out. Tom walked up and down the room, Caroline quiet in his arms, rocking her gently as he walked, allowing Sybil to concentrate on finishing off the process of childbirth. Together, the doctor and midwife checked that the placenta was intact and had all come out together. Sybil knew as well as they did that if the placenta had not all come out, she was likely to haemorrhage again. It was a nervous few minutes' wait, but she relaxed when she was told that everything was fine and that a haemorrhage wasn't a worry anymore.

She and Tom waited for the midwife and Doctor Clarkson to clear up all of their belongings and throw out what needed to be thrown out. Tom returned Caroline to her mother and showed the midwife and doctor out of the house, thanking them profusely for everything they had done. Turning back to return to his wife, he saw Kathleen, Blaire and Daisy together in the kitchen. "You can go and see the baby now. She's with mum in our bedroom," he said with a proud smile on his face. Blaire's and Daisy's eyes lit up with excitement and they leapt from the table and hurried towards their parents' bedroom.

"Be quiet girls!" Kathleen called after them, rising from the table herself. She walked over to her father and gave him a hug. "You go back to mum. I'll find the boys and tell them." Tom smiled and winked at his eldest daughter, marvelling at how similar she was to her mother. Tom turned to go back to Sybil, as Kathleen headed towards the garden where the boys were playing a one-on-one game of football. "You can go and see the baby now if you want, boys," she said, standing just outside the back door. The boys looked at each other and ran towards the door. "Be quiet, though! Mum's tired and doesn't need a racket from you two," she ordered, trying to keep her mother's welfare at the forefront of her mind.

She walked calmly through the house and was the last to enter the small room where her mother and youngest sibling were surrounded by her four other siblings. They were all talking in whispers and were in awe of the small life before them. Tom was sat at the end of the bed, letting the children take a good long look. Kathleen joined him, not wanting to crowd her mother too much when she'd just been through so much. "Is it a girl or a boy?" George whispered.

"It's a girl," Sybil replied, and, although the boys kept the smiles on their faces, the smiles on Blaire's and Daisy's lips grew hugely. "Her name is Caroline."

It was about ten minutes later when all the children were told that Sybil needed some rest, so they had to leave her alone. Yes, they had to be very quiet. No, they couldn't invite their friends over to have a look. And yes, they could hold their little sister later on when mummy was awake again. Each of the children went their separate ways apart from Kathleen who stayed for a little longer. Sybil allowed her to hold Caroline, trusting her entirely. "Thank you, Kathleen," she said softly. "You helped a lot today. I couldn't have done it without you."

"You did all the work. All I did was make sure the others were quiet and ensured that dad was here."

"And that's just as important. Thank you, Kathleen. I mean it." Kathleen smiled down at her little sister, accepting the fact that she had helped her mother greatly.

"You need some rest, though," she said to her mother wisely. "I'll leave you all in peace." She stood up and walked around the bed to hand Caroline to her father, who bounced her gently – a movement he now did automatically when holding a young baby. Kathleen kissed Caroline's fluffy-haired head – definitely her father's hair – and then straightened to kiss Tom on the cheek before leaving the room.

Things had not been plain sailing, but things had all turned out well in the end. A happy household and a healthy baby was all Sybil could have hoped for. But she did, however, mean what she said. She couldn't go through that again. Caroline was the last one. Six children and a perfect husband was rather a good life really. She accepted that. And she wouldn't change it for the world.

I hope you liked this little one-shot. Now, this is going to sound absolutely ridiculous, but I came up with this idea through a dream I had in February (and it's been in construction ever since)! It was a dream about Sybil giving birth in a 1960s setting, and it was kind of a cross over with Call the Midwife. I changed it a bit from that dream because some dreams don't make much sense, but I'm glad I've written this. I started writing it a couple of days after the idea started, but have only just finished it (only six months...). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review if you can spare thirty seconds.