Dot felt like she was being ripped apart. She had been prepared for the work but not for the pain. She'd helped women in labour but being on the receiving end was scarier than she had realised. There were times she'd thought she'd drown under the ocean of pain invading her body, making her bones creak and rattle, stretching her nerves to breaking point and pinpricking under her skin in an agonising symphony. She felt breathless and dizzy, struggling to preserve her energy for the moments that mattered. She was aware of Hugh gripping her hand concentratedly, valiantly trying to play the part of the modern man in the face of obnoxious male laughter. Just sit outside or go to the pub until it's over, they told him. That's what men did. Dot wouldn't have minded if he did but Hugh was earnest in his support and soon she was grateful for his reassuring bulk. There were times that he'd step outside but he always came back to do whatever Dr Mac would tell him.
Dr Mac was running the show. When Dot cried about the loss of Miss Fisher, the most magical person she'd ever known, Dr Mac was there to comfort her and Hugh. She was there when Dot's waters broke a week early and had raced to them as soon as she had been called. If Miss Fisher trusted Dr Mac with her life, so would Dot. Her voice was her compass, her guiding light and she did as she was told, concentrating, pushing and expressing her pain as loudly as she wanted. Dr Mac told her not to hold back, to be instinctual, allowed her to move as she felt necessary.
The last push nearly shredded her but she persevered and not long after, was gently handed a screaming bloody bundle of life. A little boy. Her and Hugh's little boy. The new father was stunned, slightly traumatised by the several hour experience but so so proud of his wife. A feeling of helplessness nearly overtook him when he saw what was ahead of him but the sight of his Dottie, radiant with relief and sweat, looking up at him in breathless laughter, gave him the courage.
Elizabeth MacMillan sat back on her heels and surveyed the scene with delight. Phryne would have been so proud of these two. And would have gifted the new-born with something useful and expensive. She tried not to let the absence tug at her heart and leak into her veins. This was no time to be maudlin.
'Well done' she said with a smile. 'Welcome to the next stage of your life.'