It was as she entered the third trimester that Shelagh became scared. More than 10 years spent in the service of the women of Poplar meant that she was acutely aware of every existing pregnancy-related condition, and as a first time mother over thirty she knew that the risk of at least some of those conditions was higher. Despite never having had the compulsion before, she found herself running through all the symptom lists for every possible illness in her head routinely, and analysing every ache and twinge she felt in esoteric detail. Patrick could tell something was up and in an effort to distract Shelagh he suggested they decorate the room set aside for the baby. She happily agreed, and so early one Saturday morning the three Turners found themselves critically surveying the room previously used as a small bedroom. Timothy, deciding to make sure they did it properly for his new sibling, had volunteered his help with the paint.
"It would be a lot easier to decorate if there was some magic way to tell the baby's gender." Shelagh sighed, viewing the tins of green paint that stood by the door.
"I read an article in The Lancet the other day actually, discussing new methods of ultrasound technology being used to do just that." Patrick commented. This grabbed Shelagh's attention and she turned to him, her eyes alight with interest.
"Really! What are the other suggested diagnostic uses?" she asked, while Timothy rolled his eyes. Seeing his boredom they smiled at each other, silently promising to continue the conversation later.
"Well, as we don't know, I think pale green will be a safe bet either way." Patrick said, picking up a tin and brush and giving them to Timothy. Shelagh sat down on a chair by the door and set herself to finishing a new knitted teddy bear. Soon the walls were done, and Patrick had moved on to the next stage. For some indiscernible reason unexplained to Shelagh, this lead to him being up a ladder in the attic, rooting around for something - "A surprise", apparently.
She watched, bemused, as he gingerly lowered a box down to Timothy. "Careful!" he warned, as Timothy staggered slightly under the weight. Finally it was safely down on the ground, and Patrick proudly gestured to Shelagh to open it. Smiling at his eagerness she did so, and gasped when she saw its contents.
"Oh Patrick...when did you have time to go and get this?" she asked, looking inside the box. On top was a picture of a completed crib with a drop down side, and below it lay the parts. There was no shop name, but she knew it was a prestigious brand highly rated for safety, and it couldn't have been cheap. "And how on earth did you get it into the attic?" she added, remembering Timothy's struggles.
"I saw it a few weeks ago and though it was perfect. Peter Noakes helped me get it up there one evening when you and Chummy were at Nonnatus for Jane's birthday. Do you like it?" he asked as she flicked through the booklet.
"It's wonderful." she smiled back at him, and Timothy groaned halfheartedly as he kissed her forehead again.
A few hours later the crib was finished and sat proudly in the center of the room as the walls finished drying. A new mattress was placed inside, and covered by a blanket crocheted by Chummy as a belated "thank-you" for Freddie's lion (still his favourite toy). On top of that blanket proudly sat Shelagh's teddy bear, with stitched-on eyes ("buttons might be dangerous") and a collar around his neck ("I worried his head might come off, I do seem to have a problem with the heads"). Shelagh stood in the doorway with Patrick's arms around her and surveyed their little room thoughtfully.
"What are you thinking darling?" Patrick asked, sensing the tension in her shoulders.
Shelagh sighed, but the tension remained.
"I'm just - oh, I don't know. It doesn't matter."
"If it matters to you, it matters to me." he replied firmly. "What is it?"
"It's just that I can't help feeling worried about this pregnancy. Our baby. I know it's stupid, but I can't help worrying about something going wrong."
"But nothing will go wrong Shelagh. We're both highly trained professionals, we'd notice any sign."
"I know that, I do, but I can't help worrying."
Seeing her fear, Patrick correctly sensed that there must be another reason for her worry, and he waited a few moments more to give her time to compose herself.
"When I was ten years old, my Aunt died. Coming so soon after my mother's death it was a severe blow for my whole family. But-well-she was pregnant when she died."
"Oh Shelagh." Patrick said, realising the source of her worry. "What was it?"
"I don't know." she confessed. "She wasn't living with us at the time, and it was so sudden it could have been anything. Coming after my mother, my father didn't want me upset again, so he delayed telling me and never went into details."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, frowning slightly in consternation. If he'd known, he'd never have let her work as hard as she had. Although, considering her force of will he doubted that he'd have been successful anyway.
"I didn't know whether it would have any effect on me! She might have fallen, she might have caught 'flu - it could have been pregnancy related but I never heard of any other conditions in the family." Shelagh got this far and then had to pause. When she began again her voice was distinctly shaky, and she took one or two shuddering breaths. "And as well as that, I - I was scared."
"Scared of what?" he asked, hoping to allay her fear.
"That's exactly it, I don't know what to be scared of! There are so many things that I know to look out for, but I don't know which one too look out for. I'm a trained midwife and I've practiced for over ten years, I know I'm being ridiculous but I can't seem to help it!" Finally having confessed to him, Shelagh cried in earnest as Patrick rubbed her shoulders. As her crying eased off, he pulled away to look her in the eyes.
"I promise you, Shelagh, that I will support you all the way through this. You don't have to be scared, because I will be with you every step of the way. I haven't noticed any abnormal symptoms - but if anything comes up I will do everything I can to help you. If I could, I would come and hold your hand in the delivery room, but I don't think Sister Evangelina would be impressed at my bad example and her wrath would be quite something to behold. And anyway, you're allowed to be a bit ridiculous sometimes - you are pregnant after all."
Shelagh chuckled as he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.
"Thank you for everything" she said simply, leaning into him as they daydreamed about their new nursery.
Thank you for reading this chapter - I hope you enjoyed it!