Disclaimer – I don't own the characters. They belong to ACD, MG and SM and the BBC. No one pays me to do this, I do it for love.
Chapter Thirty Six
Sherlock rolled carefully out of bed, so as not to disturb Molly. She had started her Maternity Leave and had no reason to be up and about this early. He wanted her to enjoy her lie in. Pulling on his dressing gown, he walked quietly from the room and down the corridor, to use William's bathroom. He had left his clothes in there the night before, so that he could shower and dress before getting William up for school.
Having dropped William off, he returned to the flat, to find Molly sitting at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of milk.
'Oh, you're up,' he said, a little disappointed, 'I was going to bring you breakfast in bed.'
'That's a lovely thought, darling, but toast crumbs in the bed are not my favourite thing. Anyway, I'm still in work mode, so I couldn't stay in bed a minute longer.' As she spoke, Molly arched her spine and rubbed her lower back.
'Are you alright?' Sherlock asked.
'Yes, I'm fine,' she replied, 'but I think I might be in the early stage of labour.'
His eyes widened and his mouth formed a silent 'O'.
'This is how it started last time, with lower back pain, but I didn't recognise it for what it was. But this feels very familiar and I have been having a lot of Braxton Hicks, too, so I'm pretty sure things are just revving up.' She smiled at his expression, which did have a touch of 'rabbit in the headlights' about it.
'It's OK, you know. I've done this before. I think I can remember how to do it again!' she joked. He gave a small, embarrassed laugh and shook his head at his own trepidation.
'So what do we do now?' he asked.
'Just carry on as normal, for the time being. It's going to be a few hours, yet.' Molly was aware that second and subsequent babies had a habit of coming faster than the first but until she had more tangible evidence that she was in labour, she knew there was no need to do anything.
'So, what would you like for breakfast?' he asked, trying to ignore the increase in his own heart rate that her revelation had brought about. He marvelled at how calm she was, how in control of the situation. He remembered thinking the same thing when he watched the video of William's birth. She really was a remarkable woman and, remarkably, she was his woman!
'Peanut butter on toast, please. I need to keep up my energy levels.'
'We should probably ring Mrs Hudson and tell her to make her way over here,' he suggested. 'She might have something planned, otherwise.'
'OK, you can ring her but tell her there's no rush.' Molly could see the slight tremor in Sherlock's hands, as he put the bread in the toaster. He was trying to hide it, but he was clearly nervous and more than a little apprehensive. She thought Mrs Hudson would be a calming influence on him. It was going to be a long day and she didn't want him to peak too soon.
ooOoo
Having called Mrs Hudson, it was clear that Sherlock needed employment. Being unoccupied was not a good condition for him, at the best of times, so most definitely not now. Molly suggested they set up the birthing pool. Even if it turned out she wasn't in labour, after all, it would be a useful 'dry run' for the pool – if that wasn't an oxymoron.
They had discussed how they wanted the birthing area to be arranged. Some people, Helen had told them, had candles and whale music, others created a little bower, with fairy lights and drapes. Neither of those options appealed to the Hooper-Holmes team. Molly wanted a clutter-free environment, where she could wander about, as the mood took her. The bedside lamps, plus the floor lamp from the sitting room, would suffice as mood lighting. As for music, she didn't want any. The labour would last several hours and she could imagine any piece of music, even her most favourite, grating after that length of time.
'Maybe you could play for me,' she had suggested to Sherlock. 'You could vary the music accordingly, like they do in supermarkets and railway stations.
'Oh, right, so – when you need to push really hard, I could play the Anvil Chorus, that sort of thing?' he offered, expanding on the theme.
'Exactly! And when things get really hectic, you could play 'The Flight of the Bumblebee!'
There would be no music, then.
To set up the pool, they started by laying out the large tarpaulin, on the carpet, then pulled the collapsed pool out of its bag, attached the electric air pump and set it to begin inflating. Sherlock decided to have a rummage through the contents of the pool pack and came out with what looked like a plastic sieve. He turned it over in his hands, then asked,
'What's this for?'
Molly giggled and said,
'Have a guess.' He was just about to say 'I never guess' when she revised her question to 'Deduce its purpose.'
Sherlock sat back on his heels and looked at the object again.
'Well, it's clearly intended as a scoop, so it's to scoop something out of the water.'
'Good,' she encouraged him.
He sat, puzzling over what might need to be scooped out of the water, then the truth dawned.
'Oh,' he said. Molly laughed at the look on his face.
'Oh, yes,' she said. 'Well, just think about it. When you're doing all that pushing, the baby isn't the only thing that might pop out. You can't just leave it floating around in the water, can you?'
'Thanks for that,' Sherlock said, with heavy irony. 'That image is seared into my brain, now.'
Molly collapsed in another fit of giggles.
'That can be your job, then, Head Pooper Scooper!'
Even he couldn't keep a straight face after that remark and they both fell about, laughing.
Once they regained control of themselves, he checked out the rest of the pack. It consisted of a liner, for the pool, a food-grade hose, to fill and empty the pool, a tap connector, a cover, to keep the heat in, an electric water pump, to empty the pool afterwards, a puncture repair kit – which they both hoped would not be required – and a digital thermometer. There was also a large, white plastic, semi-circular object, about which he just had no clue. No doubt, he would find out what that was for, eventually. He put them all back in the bag, to keep clean and safe, until they were needed.
Next, they stripped the bed and laid a waterproof sheet over the mattress, then remade the bed over it. They had been advised to have as many towels available as they could muster, so they had bought half a dozen big bath sheets and a dozen hand towels, which would all come in useful after the event, if they survived, and could be disposed of, if they didn't.
Sherlock had a rummage through the birthing pack. There were quite a few items of whose purpose he wasn't sure - a torch, a folding mirror on a stick, a pack of what looked like large disposable diapers. He didn't even want to speculate as to their use. He closed the pack up and put it next to the chest of drawers, so for future use.
The air pump had made short work of inflating the pool. Sherlock disconnected it and sealed the inlet with the bung. If it was intact, the pool should not lose any pressure. He hoped that would be the case, since trying to find a puncture in such a large inflatable might prove difficult. He put the pump back in the pack and hoped it would not be needed again until it was time to deflate the pool, when it was all over and done with.
Satisfied with the layout of the room, he and Molly came out and shut the door.
'Everything alright?' Sherlock enquired, as Molly lowered herself onto the sofa.
'Just more of the same. I'm having another Braxton Hicks. Do you want to feel it?' she asked him. He nodded, so she took his hand and placed it on her bump. It felt really firm and unrelenting.
'God, that's really hard. Poor baby's getting a good squeeze,' Sherlock marvelled.
'Yes, it's gone really quiet, no kicking today. Its head is right down here,' she explained, indicating her pelvis. 'That's why I have to go for a pee so often. It's pressing right on my bladder! Its bottom is here,' she indicated the right side of her belly, up under her rib cage, 'and its feet are here.' She indicated the left side of her belly, under her ribs. Sherlock placed his hand in the positions she showed him, and pictured the baby, upside down and curled up in a ball. He leaned over and pressed his ear to her belly. He could hear the baby's heart beating rapidly and he smiled to think that soon he would meet this little creature, face to face.
ooOoo
Mrs Hudson arrived, by cab, around lunch time. Sherlock went out to meet her and pay the cabbie.
'Did you bring it?' he asked, after he opened the cab door to help her out onto the pavement.
'Yes, it's here!' she replied, and showed him the Moses basket, on the seat beside her. Molly hadn't kept any of William's baby things but she had bought a second hand cot, from a charity shop, and that was stored in the guest bedroom. Sherlock, with his landlady acting as his personal shopper, had bought the Moses basket and layette, a month earlier, and kept it all at Baker Street, so it would be a surprise for Molly. Mrs H passed the basket and all its contents to him and, taking his hand, stepped out of the cab. Sherlock hefted her hand luggage and walked back into the building. He stowed the surprise in the hall cupboard, for later.
Walking into the sitting room, Mrs Hudson bent to give Molly a hug.
'Shall I put the kettle on?' she asked.
'No, you sit down, Mrs H. I'll make the tea,' Sherlock insisted and went off into the kitchen. Molly and the visitor smiled at one another.
'Some sandwiches would be nice,' Molly called after him, stifling a chuckle.
'Mrs Hudson?' he called back.
'Yes, dear, that would be lovely,' she replied, and sniggered into her hand.
'He needs to keep occupied,' Molly explained. 'It stops him thinking too much. And, I'm making the most of this, while it lasts. Once this baby's born, he'll probably delete all these domestic skills from his hard drive!'
Then, she said, 'I hope I haven't brought you here on a fool's errand. It could still be a false alarm.'
'It's always a pleasure to spend time with you and yours, my dear,' her guest replied. 'Is William at school?'
The women chatted happily, whilst Sherlock made the tea and sandwiches.
ooOoo
After lunch, Molly went to the bedroom for a lie down. She had taken to having an afternoon nap, since she stopped working. She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, trying to relax but she doubted she would sleep. She was feeling far too restless. This, to her, was another indication that she was in labour. She remembered feeling energised, the last time. After tossing and turning for half an hour, she rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom. Her tiny bladder was full again. Sitting on the loo, she glanced down and saw the tell-tale sign on the gusset of her pants. The plug of mucus, that had sealed her cervix for the last nine months, had come away. This could only mean one thing – her cervix was dilating. She definitely was in labour.
Back in the bedroom, she picked up her mobile and called the midwife.
'Hello, Molly. How are things?' Helen greeted her. Molly explained the situation.
'Ok, well, yes, you are most definitely in the early stage of labour and it sounds as though you have everything under control. Is the pool up and running?' she asked.
'It's inflated but there's no water in it, yet,' Molly replied.
'Well, you could start filling it, now. It takes a while. Don't over-fill it, though. We will probably need to top it up with more hot water, from time to time. Once it's about eight inches deep, put the cover on. That will retain the heat. Oh, and don't forget to put the liner in. It improves the heat retention.'
Molly acknowledged all the instructions. That would keep Sherlock busy.
'I don't think you need me just yet so I won't come out. If everything is going smoothly and you are happy with the situation, I'm going to leave you to it, for now. Ring me again when the contractions are ten minutes apart. I can be with you within twenty minutes.'
Molly assured her that she was more than happy to go it alone, for the time being, so Helen said goodbye and good luck. Molly closed down the call and looked at her reflection in the bedroom mirror.
'This is it, Molly Hooper. Ain't no stopping it now!' she said, with a affirming nod.
She went through to the sitting room and leaned on the back of the sofa, smiling at Sherlock. He gave her a quizzical look.
'Game on!' she announced. 'Would you like to fill the pool?'
ooOoo
Not quite there yet, all you baby watchers! But nearly!