So this is the chapter. The big one. I did my best with technical stages but please forgive me for any inaccuracies! I hope you enjoy it!
It didn't start the way she was expecting. The slight pains, starting around six AM seemed normal, and as Shelagh plodded downstairs to make Patrick and Timothy's breakfasts she thought nothing of them. In fact, her knees were the greater concern, as they creaked and groaned with every movement. It wasn't for another few hours that Shelagh even noticed.
It was two weeks since she'd been put on leave.
"With twins, you can't risk any health problems. Your safety, and the safety of the babies, must be our main priority." Sister Julienne had said as Shelagh boiled the kettle in the Kitchen during a busy clinic. "How long were you planning to work for?"
Shelagh frowned slightly at her cup of tea, nursing it in her hands as she turned to face the Sister. "I hadn't really planned, I thought just - until it wasn't feasible any more. Chummy managed to work until the last minute, after all, and most of the women in Poplar do no different."
"Most of the women in Poplar are not expecting twins, nor have they recently recovered from tuberculosis. Would you consider starting your holiday on Friday?"
Shelagh gawped. "This Friday? Three days away?"
Sister Julienne nodded.
"But that's so soon! What about my patients? How would Nonnatus manage with one Nurse less?" Shelagh protested.
"Nurse Turner, everything will be taken care of, you needn't worry. Please - at least talk it over with your husband tonight?"
Shelagh had nodded, expecting that Patrick would agree with her plan of staying on, but to her surprise -and consternation- he agreed with Sister Julienne instead.
"But Patrick, Friday?" she asked, curled up next to him on the sofa as he subconsciously rested his hand on the bump.
"At least you'd have time to rest and get prepared." he pointed out. "Twins will take it out of you."
"Yes, but -"
"Your patients?" he said, smiling down at her.
"Yes." she muttered.
This was one of the many reasons he loved her, Patrick reflected to himself. She was a born healer, who wanted nothing more than to help others. He had no doubt that if she thought a woman needed an arm to help her through labour Shelagh would give one of her own and soldier on. Her life revolved around others, yet she was a force to be reckoned with in her own right. Someone had to be there to stop her from giving herself entirely, and it was a position he was willing to take.
"They will be looked after my darling, the Nurses will all pull together. I really think this could be a good idea - you'll get the rest you need. It's not as though you could cycle with that bump anyway."
Shelagh chuckled at this, against her will.
"I know what your patients mean to you," he continued, "and I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't think it was the best option. What are you thinking?"
Shelagh looked up at him. "This Friday?"
He nodded.
She stroked the bump and looked around their living room. The walls were a light shade of blue, one of her favourite colours. Timothy had left one of his encyclopaedias on the floor, open to a page on butterflies. On the fireplace their photographs stood proudly in their silver frames. This was her home, and soon it would have two more inhabitants. This was where her family - and her heart - lived. She owed it to them to be careful. Maybe this was the best thing she could do for them.
Shelagh nodded in reply. "This Friday. I'll tell Sister Julienne in the morning."
They had a great leaving party for her, with all her favourite cakes cooked by Mrs B - Cherry and Almond Sponge, Coconut Cream, and a glorious Victoria Sponge Timothy had helped with (as he told her proudly). Shelagh remembered this, and the laughing faces of her colleagues as she stared out the window for the tenth time that week. Being on leave, with nothing to do but tidy (the house was spotless), prepare (the nursery was pristine) and plan (a new double pram rested proudly in the hall). Being on leave was stultifying.
So when the pains got stronger, Shelagh took more notice. But still, there was a floor to clean and curtains to air, and it wasn't until two o'clock that afternoon when she sat down that Shelagh realised exactly how strong these pains were. For a second she felt panic, then caught herself. It could be Braxton-Hicks, she'd had plenty of those the past few weeks. But half an hour more of sitting on the sofa breathing heavily convinced her that this wasn't mere Braxton-Hicks, and she carefully raised herself up. The home phone was normally strictly only for Patrick's use, but she felt her use was certainly justified. Picking up the phone, she dialled.
"Nonnatus House, midwife speaking?"
"Hello, Trixie? I think I'm in labour."
"Shelagh!" said Trixie, "is that you?"
"Last time I checked." Shelagh replied, grimacing slightly as she clutched the table.
"I'll send Cynthia round, she's first on call anyway. Are you planning to go into the Hospital?"
"Yes, I think that was the plan."
"Good. Cynthia will be round shortly. See you soon!" Trixie said, and Shelagh put the phone down as another wave overtook her.
She made her way slowly - and carefully - upstairs, and began the process of getting the bed ready, just in case. When it was done, she changed from her loose cotton dress into an old nightdress - no point in ruining good clothes after all, she thought.
As she finished Cynthia came in.
"Mrs Turner? Shelagh?" she called, and Shelagh smiled at her indecision on titles.
"I'm upstairs." she called, lowering herself down onto the bed. As Cynthia entered, she smiled at her. "I think we're far enough for just Shelagh now."
Cynthia nodded, smiling, and began assessing her. "I think you're in the first stage of labour Shelagh, but you've been going a while. You're about 5 centimetres dilated."
"What about the maternity hospital?" Shelagh asked, before she was hit by another contraction.
"I think it would be a good idea to move you there, just so there are Doctors nearby. With twins you can never be too careful. I'll go and call Dr Turner to tell him now, and then the ambulance crew."
So it was that Shelagh found herself lying on a bed in the maternity hospital an hour later, dressed in white with bright lights all around her. Cynthia was by her side, holding her wrist to check her pulse as she moaned through another contraction.
"Good good - everything's progressing just as normal Shelagh. You're seven centimetres now - not far to go."
"Where's - Patrick?" she moaned, before grabbing the sides of the bed and breathing heavily.
"He's just coming, but he won't be able to be in the room with you." Cynthia replied.
"I know - that, but - I just want to see him!" she grunted, before crying out at the strength of the pain.
Patrick flew through the doors shortly after, his tie pulled sideways and his hair a bird's nest. His bag only had one of the buckles done up and the end of his stethoscope was hanging out. The hurry with which he had left his surgery was evident, even though it was just a short walk away. Sister Julienne followed, more serenely but still at a distinct jog.
"Darling, how are you?" Patrick asked, grabbing her hand.
"I'm - ticketyboo." she replied, before raising an eyebrow and moaning again.
"I'm sorry Dr Turner, but you'll have to leave." Sister Julienne said, catching up with him.
"I know, I will do." he said, before turning to Shelagh. "You are amazing, do you know that? The most beautiful, kind, considerate woman in the world and you chose me. You showed more courage than I've seen grown men do and you can do it again. I have faith in you Shelagh, you can do this."
She could say nothing in response, but squeezed his hand, hoping that would be enough of an answer. He leant down and kissed it on her wedding ring and then leaned over and kissed her forehead as well. "I love you." he whispered.
"I love you too, Patrick." she said, and with one final smile he left.
"He'll be just outside." Sister Julienne reassured her.
"I know."she replied. "He wouldn't leave me."
Two hours later Cynthia pronounced her fully dilated.
"You can start pushing now, and we'll get the first baby delivered soon."
Shelagh moaned at this and then cried out as another contraction came. "I can't do this!" she cried.
"Yes you can," came the steady response from Sister Julienne, "I'm right here. Patrick is outside and you have Cynthia to look after you. You are strong Shelagh, and you are brave. You can do this."
"But I'm scared!"
"There is always something to be scared of Shelagh. The trick is to understand that and carry on anyway. God will provide."
"Come on Shelagh - the first baby is nearly delivered. Push down!" she distantly heard Cynthia say, and with all her strength, she pushed.
There was silence.
Then a cry, high and bouncing through the room. She could vaguely see the baby being passed to another Nurse to clean before the pain in her abdomen tore her attention away.
"Once more Shelagh!" Cynthia said.
"I haven't got anything left!" she cried.
"You can do this Shelagh. Focus." said Sister Julienne next to her, and with every ounce of her strength, with her every thought and the sheer formidable force of her determination, Shelagh pushed.
Another cry broke the air, and another baby was taken away to be cleaned up. Sister Julienne walked over as Cynthia prepared for the afterbirth. She brought one baby over while a Nurse form the hospital carried the other.
"My dear Shelagh, you have a boy and a little girl." she said, placing a baby in each arm.
Shelagh looked down at them. "You're here," she whispered to them, looking at their tiny creased faces and shell like ears, and feeling her heart break with love for them. "I'll never let you go. You're safe, my darlings. Always safe. I'm here."
Patrick came in a moment later to see his wife sitting up in bed, her face wet with tears as she held a baby in each arm. She looked up at him, and for a second he truly believed that she was an angel before him.
"It's a boy and a girl Patrick. Our twins."
He walked over, still dazed, and gently took one of the babies. Its face was screwed up at him and its hands were reaching out the blanket. He gently traced his finger over the tiny fingernails, the lines across the miniature palm, and the crease around the baby's wrist.
"Oh my darlings." he sighed. "You're wonderful."
I hope you enjoyed it - as ever, all reviews welcome and encouraged!