I apologise in advance if any of the medical accuracy is wrong - I did try to keep it correct (and probably bugged some midwives in the process). Anyway I hope this is ok - and thank you to anyone who reads.
She emerges back out on to the ward, trying to look like nothing is fazing her, only she is getting more aware of the ache in her spine that doesn't seem to want to shift and the way her abdomen keeps twinging. She makes her way over to the desk, where Jonny and Mo appear to be deep in conversation, though based on the laughter that keeps escaping their mouths she is near certain they are not discussing patients or even work. She comes to a rest by the desk, leaning on it slightly as the tightening returns.
"You ok?" Jonny voice is soft, and in many ways she appreciates the concern but this is too early and besides which she is almost certain that this isn't how the many event is supposed to feel. These tightenings are more like the Braxton hicks that tend to awaken her at night, only they are abating less quickly.
"You try being 38 weeks pregnant" the answer comes out harsh but she cannot help it, trying to control her breathing until her muscles relax. She looks to Mo, knowing that the registrar has been here and will hopefully back her up.
"You could always pop down to maternity to get checked over; make sure it is just being 38 weeks pregnant" Jac scowls at her colleague, annoyed that the look she gave her hadn't worked and Mo had gone with the more logical advice that Jac didn't want.
"Well thanks for nothing Maureen" She growls the words and sees the smile that Mo gives her in response, the smile that tells her that the advice may not be want she wants to here but it is what she needs to do. It's a smile that says I've been here, trust me. Only Jac doesn't quite see it that way.
"You're welcome" the words go with the smile, and Jac is more than tempted to flick her middle finger in Mo's direction, but she is struck once again by a pain in her abdomen only this time it is different. There is more of a squeezing, the muscles contracting together causing her abdomen to become tight and hard as she leans against the desk and tries to control her breathing. When it passes, she straightens back up and tries to act like nothing has happened.
"Trip to maternity it is" Jonny tries to sound brighter than he feels, tries to ignore the way his heart hammers in his chest at impending fatherhood. Everything from the last 38 weeks seems to press down upon him – the stress, the worry, the excitement and the anticipation mixed with the adrenaline that has started to course through his veins.
"And leave Darwin to fend for itself" Jac sighs, resting a hand against her abdomen, "it's one contraction, probably not even a contraction and all they'll do is send me home to 'rest', telling me to come back later if the contractions pick up so I may as well stay here and be off some use" she sees the look pass between the two of them; knows full well what they are thinking.
"Jac" it's Mo that issues her the low warning, there are no more words needed. Jac understands what she's saying but she doesn't want too. Instead she fixes Mo with a stern look.
"I seem to remember you weren't in any hurry to wander down to the baby factory" Mo rolls her eyes at the comment. She had been wondering how long it would take to get to that point, for that to brought up. Only the situation is so incredibly different.
"You know I had my reasons" Jac thinks now of how she had felt that day, as she had held the baby in her arms and tried to persuade the registrar to see the baby even if it was just for a moment. She can bring that image easily to her mind and yet she cannot imagine herself in the bed, holding her child or even Jonny standing nearby cradling the newborn.
"And I have mine" the words come at a whisper, filled with a fear she doesn't want to admit to and a truth she is scared to accept. She sees the way Jonny looks up at her, the confusion on his face as he takes heed of the words, realises there is something being kept back from him. Only watching him, she thinks he already knew that there was something she was keeping hidden.
"Jac" he says her name so gently, only she doesn't hear if any more words follow. She finds herself once more leaning heavily in to the desk, tears springing in to her eyes as she tries to ignore that pain that courses through her. She forces herself to concentrate on her breathing, tries to remember the things the midwife had said in the classes that Jonny had dragged her too. The classes she had sat through with disinterest, because she had pointed out to those around her 'she's a consultant who knows what she's doing'. Only now she's feeling more unsure of herself. As the pain passes, she looks up in to two concerned faces.
"I am absolutely fine" she murmurs though she feels anything but. Her stomach is churning violently, and she wishes she hadn't found some of Elliot's secret stash before she'd had her sleep. She wishes she'd paid attention to the fact she'd been feeling off colour for most of the day, and realised that eating wasn't her best idea.
She gags, panicking that she'll end up throwing up over the nurse, the registrar or both while simultaneously making a mess of her clean ward and creating something of a spectacle for patients and staff to enjoy. Not that there's many patients around but even so. Decided that the safer option is escaping but no convinced she'll make it as far as the ladies, Jac dashes - or as much as she can dash - in the direction of the dirty utility.
She just makes it before she brings up the contents of her stomach in to the sink, thankfully the one with the flush attachment. She heaves violently as yet another contraction decides to batter her body. She leans against the cool metal, knowing she has nothing left to bring up though her body still tries. When finally it seems to pass, she hits the flush on the wall and closes her eyes.
"You look dreadful" it's an assessment which Jonny gives her from his position in the doorway to the sluice, Mo appearing over his shoulder appearing to nod his agreement. Jac rolls her eyes at them, thankful that they seem to have found some amusement in this situation.
"Well I am so pleased you felt the need to share that with me" her voice is deadpan, and she watches as he tries to force himself not to smile. She knows how very hard it is for him, and she makes it all the harder by raising one eyebrow and giving him a look he has come to know so very well.
"I'm taking you down to maternity – you know that right?" he switches tact and she nods a little. She isn't ready for this but she knows she has little choice. Having the baby on Darwin is not in her best interests, there is little here of use – no CTG machine, no resuscitaire should it be needed and yet it is here where she feels safest. If she could she would stay here, in the place where she is confident, where she has power.
"I don't need to go yet" she whispers the words, knows that they are at odds with the nod of her head but it doesn't matter. She is past the point of logic now. She sees Mo place a hand on Jonny's arm, pushing him slightly away from the sluice.
"Jac's maternity bag is under her desk" the registrar informs him, and Jac cannot help but wonder how she knows this. She had thought she'd kept it well hidden, the fact the bag had been stored here ready rather than in her flat, "go and grab it and we'll head down to maternity. Tell Elliot the reinforcements are needed, he'll understand"
"I don't understand" the consultant stutters the word as she watches the nurse disappear from view, she sees the registrar step closer to her.
"You don't think we prepared for this - you going in the labour on the ward?" the registrar shakes her head as she thinks of the plans Elliot had made, knowing full well how this would pan out, "so want to explain your reluctance to going down to maternity?" an arm snakes around Jac's waist guiding her out on to the ward, to where a wheelchair waits for her. Jac balks a little at the sight of it.
"I'm barely contracting 2 in 10, it's not worth going" it's a feeble excuse and Jac knows it. Knows too that it is probably a lie as she feels another contraction building, feels herself lean against the registrars body as her own tightens and tenses.
"No it's more like 3 in 10" is the response when the registrar feels her boss' body relax slightly, "so want to try to answer again?" she adds, wondering what excuse will be offered to her this time.
"I'm not ready" again it's feeble, but it is altogether closer to the truth. Still she holds fast refusing to move closer to the wheelchair.
"You may not be, but Bonnie here is" the use of the nickname earns her a scowl and Mo smiles good naturedly at the consultant, "if you don't use the chair, me and Jonny'll carry you done and don't think we won't stop off on all the wards for a flying visit" she is joking but she sees the momentary look of panic flit across Jac's face at the very idea of it and Mo sighs, "I am of course kidding but Jac, we need to get you down there"
"My waters haven't even gone" words Mo had once used, and which bring a smile to her face as she remembers. She fixes Jac with what she hopes is a stern look.
"And remember how far that excuse got me" there's a flicker of recognition on Jac's face as she too remembers, it stays there until once again her body doubles over in to a contraction and she has to force herself to concentrate all of her brain power on breathing and not screaming the ward down. When it passes she feels herself being moved and pushed in to the wheelchair by Mo, and she finds herself unable to resist.
"I'm scared" the consultant admits finally, looking up at her colleague – her friend – with fearful eyes as she prepares to say words that have haunted her for the last few days but which she has kept locked within her heart, "she's been quieter the last couple of days and I'm scared something's wrong, that we'll get down there and they'll tell me something is wrong with my baby"
"Oh Jac" the words are whispered, ever so gently as she tries to imagine how the consultant has to have been feeling, how scared. It saddens here that she hadn't felt able to talk to her, or to Jonny. She thinks of her best friend, how hopeful and happy he has been these last few days. How destroyed he would have been to think anything was wrong, but how he would have rushed her down to maternity to be checked over. He had once done the same for her. She remembered so clearly his panic but even more so his strength. He would have done the same for her if only she had trusted him.
They hear footsteps approaching before they see him, and look passed between the two women confirms that they will not pass on the fears to him. They see the look in his eyes, the mix of emotions.
The three of them make their way to maternity, Jac groaning as the contractions seem to pick up pace, their intensity increasing making it all the more harder for her to just breathe through them. She clutches hold of his hand, as she walks beside the chair being pushed by Mo. She knows based on the whimpers he emits that the strength in her grip is causing him pain, though it is nothing compared to what Jac is experiencing.
In maternity it is left to Mo to talk to the midwife on the triage desk, to explain that her friend is labouring, that she's 38 weeks and that she is contracting at least 3 in 10. Mo explains this easily and with clarity and watches as the midwife takes notes, smiles and nods and directs her to sit in the waiting room while she sorts a room and which midwife will be allocated Jac's care.
The three sit there, together. Jac in her wheelchair, whimpering and groaning with each contraction that seems destined to split her body in to and yet never quite seems to manage it. She is near certain this child is setting out to break her, to kill her, though she does not understand why. She has done everything for this child and yet this is the repayment she receives. Still she tries to reassure herself it will be worth it in the end. They sit and wait, unsure of how much time passes. They sit in near silence, Jac having shouted at them when they attempted an inane conversation to keep the boredom at bay.
"I need to push" the words come in desperation as Jac feels the change in pressure in her pelvis, her body trying to push as the next contraction takes over though she tries to force herself not to give it to it, to hold the baby within her. She cannot give birth in a waiting room. It is most definitely not a part of the plan and she knows the story would follow her around the hospital for years.
"Go and hurry them up" Mo hisses at Jonny, watching as he goes in the direction of the desk, she can see the stress in his eyes at the idea he could end up catching his own child in the waiting area. Mo looks at Jac.
"Try to relax ok" she tries to speak reassuringly offering her hands to be squeezed by the consultant when another contraction reaches its peak and she has to try so hard not to give in to the desire to push, to scream, to try to escape from this nightmare.
"Relax? This child is trying to kill me" the words are hissed when the contraction ebbs away, she knows there will only be a little respite before the next one arrives, ready to batter her once again. Mo, she thinks, should realise how slim the chances are of her relaxing, having gone through this herself.
Finally the midwife appears alongside Jonny. For the briefest of moments, the two women are grateful it is not the head of midwifery who had been there for the birth of William but rather a woman who introduces herself as Jayne and offers a warm smile before she leads them to one of the delivery rooms.
She helps the labouring woman on to the bed, waiting patiently as a contraction takes hold before she continues. She explains gently that she needs to examine her and process that leaves Jac swearing at the woman and Jonny apologising profusely for the language that she had used – though he was secretly rather impressed by her vocabulary of swear words and a creative flare in using them. The midwife asked whether Jac's waters had broken something that received a brief shake of the head, before she found herself groaning again in response to a contraction.
The midwife busies herself, trying to sort out the CTG monitor, tries to position it to find the fetal heartrate but finds herself for the moment unable.
"I need to push" the labouring woman sounds desperate, hands firmly holding those of her partner. A man who looks torn between pain, terror and excitement. He keeps making eye contact with the other woman, the one who whispers words of encouragement and tries to keep the pair calm. They are a team.
"If you feel the urge go with it" the midwife smiles as she speaks, though she notes that even though the woman appears to be pushing there is nothing visible. She whispers encouragement rather than stating something that may discourage the woman, instead she returns to trying to reposition the CTG transducer, finally hearing the thumping beat of a heart rate. Only it sounds quicker than she would have liked or expected. She looks to the monitor, and watches the number.
"That's a bit fast isn't it?" he feels his own heart rate quicken as he watches the number flickering in front of his eyes. He looks to Mo and sees it confirmed in her face, that this number is far from normal. A fetal tachycardia, though he has no clue why. He looks to the woman on the bed, hers is the only head not turned to the machine and the number which taunts them. He sees tears in her eyes though he doesn't understand why. He looks to Mo, sees that she took is now looking at Jac and has whispered something to her that he doesn't quite catch but which brings a watery smile to her lips.
"It is but the baby being squished can cause it to be raised" the midwife answers, trying to reduce the fears of the father though she knows from reading the notes that the three people with her are medical professionals. Two doctors and a nurse. She watches between the monitor and the labouring woman. Despite her pushing, nothing appears to be descending in to view and still the heart rate remains high though the machine keeps losing contact.
Jonny listens as the midwife tries to explain something about a scalp electrode that she wants to place on the baby to try to get a better monitoring of the heart rate. Between contractions he hears Jac give her consent along with permission for another examination, he feels her grip tighten on his hand as the midwife does this.
"Jac, I can break your waters which may hurry things along" Jayne offers the assistance, and the tiring doctor agrees. The midwife ruptures the membranes and watches in confusion as nothing drains away. She removes her gloved hands and feels her heart rate increase at the sight of the brown substance that covers it.
Jonny is the first to catch sight of the glove, and his panic increases. He looks to Mo and nods his head slightly in that direction to draw his friends attention without alerting Jac. He can see in the midwife's face that something is not as expected though she tries hard to cover it.
"I'm just going to call someone in to take a look at this" she says, trying to sound more confident, more relaxed than she is feeling. It's a tone that Jonny knows only too well. He has used it many times and he can see through it now.
The second midwife appears and Jonny watches as they talk, as the second seems to confirm what the first thought before she disappears back out of the room. The first midwifes seems a little more relaxed that her assessment is correct, but he is still panicked. He can see in Mo's face that she too is no longer as calm as she had been. And Jac, he looks to her. The contractions are now one on top of the other and she is struggling. She is squeezing his hand tightly, tears springing from her eyes as she tries to control her, tries to find the energy to push her body from her body. All the while she listens to the quick beat of the heart. She knows it is too quick but she tries to push that from her head, as she concentrates all her efforts on the process at hand.
"The head's visible" the midwife says the words, and Jonny feels his heart quicken again. It is so very close now. He leans down and places a kiss on Jac's forehead, whispers to her how he loves her and how proud he is off. He tells her she is beautiful and that she can do this and that soon, she will be the mother of his daughter. He looks to Mo and gives her a smile, before he glances up at the clock. 45 minutes they have been in this room.
"I need you to push now Jac" the midwife gives her the instruction and Jonny supports her body while she crushes his hand within hers. She hisses that she hates him when the contraction peaks, that she loves him when it ebbs away from a second. He kisses her again before the next contraction builds, knowing that this will be one of the last.
He braces himself, preparing for the moment when he will hear his daughter for the first time; the baby girl's cry heralding her arrival in to this world. He prepares himself, already feeling the tears prickling in his eyes, his anticipation rising by the millisecond. For so many weeks, he has waited for this moment, and now it is here and he wants to remember every last second. He watches the midwife, who with sure steady hands is poised to catch their baby ready to pass her up on to the waiting chest of her mother. He watches, as the woman's gaze moves between the advancing baby and the face of the labouring woman.
He watches as the midwife moves, slowly but surely. It's a well-practiced danced, one that varies with each woman but has been perfected over years of work. Hands move, and the groans of his partner change as she pushes free the child who she has carried for so many months. As the body slips free, he watches as she falls back against the pillow, face glistening with a sheen of sweat; eyes wide with exhaustion; a look of expectation.
He is waiting. Time seems to have slowed and the moment he had prepared for hasn't arrived. He wonders if his hearing has been lost, but he can hear the ticking of the clock. He sees now something change in her eyes, wild panic as she too realises something is missing from this moment. The thing they had expected to happen, hasn't.
He looks to his friend, the woman he trusts most. She is frozen. Eyes fixed on the midwife, eyes which shine though he forces himself not to realise why.
He turns to the midwife, still expecting the moment to come. But he sees in her face that it will not. The room will not be filled by the shocked cry of his newborn, pushed from the womb in to the world.
He sees the midwife's mouth move, forming words that he cannot let himself hear. Words that confirm what he knows but cannot believe. He wills the cry to come, to fill the four walls.
But it is not the cry that comes. It is a scream. A scream so primal, a sound barely human that is torn from her body as she realises the truth. It is a scream that echoes through the room, very probably echoes through the ward. It is a scream that will ring in his ears, for years to come, a sound never forgotten. It rips her in two, and tears at him shattering what is left of his heart.
And then there is a deafening silence.