Shelagh's pregnancy, all things considered, progressed well and went without major problems. Patrick and Sister Julienne had insisted that she did not work past six months gone, so she could have plenty of rest and to minimise the stress on her body during the final months. She felt very strange attending the ante-natal clinic, she felt she should be sat behind her desk, not waiting in the queue to be led behind a screen by one of her friends.
Timothy had been extremely excited ever since they had told him a few weeks after they received the news. When Shelagh had begun to show, he liked to sit with this head or his hand on her stomach, listening to and feeling his new brother or sister moving. He was not pleased when the baby managed to kick him square in the nose one night, but decided to forgive them. He and Patrick spent several weekends turning the cluttered spare room into a beautiful nursery. They had repainted the whole room in white and pale yellow, made new furniture, and chosen new curtains, carpet and soft furnishings. It was finished in early May, and Shelagh took great pleasure in standing in the middle of the room, taking it all in, imagining her baby lying in the newly assembled cot.
A week before her due date, she went to her final ante-natal appointment. She was tired and had been slightly out of breath, but that was to be expected, especially as the baby was quite big and she was hardly the biggest. Cynthia examined her and smiled.
"Everything is looking wonderful Shelagh, baby has turned…" they both giggled at the pun, "and their heartbeat is lovely and strong."
"I'm so glad" Shelagh said. She sighed and stroked her stomach, "I still can't quite believe it is real, all those months I thought that I would never be able to conceive, but then a little miracle happened."
"Would you like a boy or a girl, or does it not matter?"
"I don't mind, I think Patrick would like a daughter to spoil, but I just want him or her to be healthy."
Ten days later, as the sun was rising on what promised to be a glorious June day, the telephone rang at Nonnatus House.
"Nonnatus House, midwife speaking" Cynthia said.
"It's Patrick. I think it is all systems go at the Turners." There was an excited tension in his voice.
"We are on the way."
Cynthia ran up the stairs to Sister Julienne's cell, and knocked on her door. When she replied, Cynthia said "Shelagh's in labour." She appeared two minutes later, fully dressed and holding a battered cardboard box. Cynthia looked at the box, puzzled, but Sister Julienne did not elaborate. They headed down the corridor together, grabbed their medical bags, went down to the bicycle shed, and out into the dawn.
Shelagh's contractions had started the previous evening. Patrick had wanted to call Nonnatus House several hours before he did, but Shelagh had told him not to be so silly. "It's not time yet, and I should know, I'm a midwife before you start protesting!" Her contractions suddenly became more severe about 4:30, so she allowed Patrick to call. Cynthia and Sister Julienne arrived just after 5:00.
Patrick let them in. He looked nervous, sweating slightly and his hands were shaking. Judging by the aroma arising from his clothes, he had already smoked several Henleys that morning. He looked as though he had hardly slept. Cynthia and Sister Julienne assumed this meant that Shelagh had not slept either.
"Pains have been about every ten minutes," he said, a noticeable shake in his voice, "There's hot water and towels and things in the room. Will you let me know if I'm needed, for whatever reason?"
"Yes we will" Sister Julienne said, patting his arm. "Make yourself some coffee, we'll look after her."
Shelagh was lying on the bed, her face screwed up in pain as the aftermath of a contraction coursed through her body, her hands gripping the bed sheets.
"Mum," she gasped as she saw Sister Julienne come through the door.
"I'm here" she replied, grabbing Shelagh's hand to help her through the end of the contraction.
"I hate to have to do this to you Shelagh, but you need to have your enema" Cynthia said. Shelagh groaned. "Come on let's get you into the bathroom."
Sister Julienne and Cynthia got Shelagh back into bed after the enema. Another contraction had rippled through her as they walked back from the bathroom. She had to use all her will power not to scream, she did not want to wake Timothy.
"I'm going to examine you Shelagh to see how far along you are," Cynthia said "Is that alright?"
Shelagh nodded, holding onto Sister Julienne's hand.
"You're nearly fully dilated Shelagh, baby's head is in the right position and the heart beat is perfect too. It won't be too long before I want you to start pushing."
More contractions rippled through Shelagh's body, her back arching with the pain. This time she could not stop herself screaming.
"I can't do this, it hurts so much," Shelagh wailed.
"Yes you can," Sister Julienne said, wiping sweat from Shelagh's brow. "You're the strongest and bravest girl I know. You're going to meet your baby very soon, and you're a wonderful mother."
With her next contraction her waters broke, completely soaking the bed. Patrick had left piles of clean sheets and towels in the corner of the room, so Cynthia and Sister Julienne changed the bed and made Shelagh as dry and comfortable as they could. Cynthia examined her again.
"Alright Shelagh" Cynthia said "You're fully dilated now. On the next contraction, I want you to push, alright?"
Shelagh nodded. Sister Julienne squeezed her hand.
They did not have to wait long, a contraction coursed through her body moments later. She pushed as hard as she could. Her screams reverberated around the house. Timothy had woken up and joined his father downstairs. Timothy sat on the sofa, looking nervous, Patrick paced up and down the living room, chain smoking his way through a packet of Henleys. They both flinched with every scream which came from upstairs.
"Baby's head is crowning Shelagh, next pain, I want lots of little pushes and the head will be born."
Shelagh took a few deep breaths, concentrating on the task in hand. Sister Julienne put an arm round her, "Not long now sweetheart." Shelagh screwed up her face with the pain of the contraction.
"Come on Shelagh, little push, come on, another one like that and another, that's it, I can see the head, the head is born Shelagh, now pant, sweetie pant, that's it, good girl."
The contraction passed, Shelagh was exhausted. She gasped for breath, tears ran down her cheeks. Sister Julienne mopped her face. "Nearly there," she said.
"Next contraction, Shelagh, I want you to push with all your might, and then you'll be able to meet your baby." Cynthia said.
"My baby," thought Shelagh, "My baby." All the pain she had felt in her life suddenly melted into insignificance, she was one push away from meeting her baby. The contraction came, and she pushed as hard as she could. She screamed in pain and gripped Sister Julienne's hand as hard as she could.
"Brilliant Shelagh come on, come on, come on, keep going, keep going, yes, yes, oh Shelagh, you have little girl!"
The Turner's daughter coughed and spluttered and then began to cry.
"She's beautiful" Cynthia said.
Shelagh could hardly breathe, she was exhausted, but she did not care, she only wanted one thing.
"My daughter, I want to hold my daughter."
"Cynthia's just cutting the cord, then you can hold her, well done Shelagh" Sister Julienne said, kissing her forehead. "I'm so proud of you."
Cynthia weighed her, "8 pound 6, Shelagh, she's a whopper," then wrapped the baby girl in a towel and handed her to Shelagh. Shelagh's grin was so wide her cheeks hurt.
"Hello wee one," Shelagh cooed, "I'm you're Mummy. And in a minute, you're going to meet your Daddy and your big brother Timmy. They can't wait to meet you. We're all going to be very happy together."
As Sister Julienne watched Shelagh kissing and cuddling her daughter, pangs of maternal pride erupted through her body.
The afterbirth was delivered a few minutes later, and Cynthia cleaned Shelagh up and made her comfortable.
"Can you get Patrick and Timothy please?" Shelagh asked "They'll be very excited."
"Of course" Sister Julienne said, heading towards the door. She skipped down the stairs with the energy of a much younger woman and went into the sitting room. Patrick and Timothy's faces lit up at the sight of her.
"Has she had the baby?" Patrick said.
Sister Julienne nodded "You have a beautiful, healthy daughter Patrick. You've got a little sister Timothy."
Timothy cheered and danced round Sister Julienne, Patrick burst into tears.
"A daughter? Wow!"
"Come up and meet her, Shelagh's ready for visitors."
Patrick and Timothy crept up the stairs after Sister Julienne and followed her into the bedroom. Shelagh was sat up, smiling from ear to ear, holding a towel-wrapped bundle in her arms. Patrick lent over the bed to look at his daughter. There were tears in his eyes. Shelagh handed her to him, and he kissed both of his girls. Timothy looked at the wiggling bundle in his father's arms.
"She has Mum's eyes and your nose" he said, thoughtfully, before saying. "Can I hold her?"
"Yes" Patrick said, "Sit on the bed, and be careful, watch her head."
Timothy held his little sister with the utmost care.
"Have you thought of a name for her yet?" Cynthia asked.
Shelagh and Patrick looked at each other, and then at Sister Julienne. "I think so," Patrick said "Everyone, meet Ruth Julienne Turner."
"Awwww" Cynthia and Timothy squeaked in unison. Sister Julienne blushed.
"Who else could we name her after?" Shelagh said smiling. "Come and hold your granddaughter."
Sister Julienne began to well up. She contained herself and said. "I will in a moment, but first, I must give you something, something which I have waited a long time to give you."
She pulled the cardboard box, which was now even more battered and squashed, out of her medical bag and handed it to Shelagh. Shelagh noticed her name was written on it, and smiled. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the contents of the box as she pulled each item out. Sister Julienne had added various items during Shelagh's pregnancy: the box now contained the patchwork blanket; two bonnets and a woolly hat; threes pair of booties; the stuffed toy bear; two cardigans and a white Christening shawl. But the last item which she pulled out caused Shelagh to burst into a flood of tears.
"My nightdress," Shelagh gasped through the tears, unfolding the tiny garment which she had made so long ago. "You kept it?"
Sister Julienne smiled, "Like you, I began making baby clothes for your child long before you conceived. When you came and told me about the TB scarring, I could not bear the thought of your dreams being dashed so cruelly, I had to believe that one day, you would bear a child. I prayed night after night for your intentions. I kept the nightdress, and the things I had made, because giving them away would be admitting that I had lost faith in your dream coming true. So, your box remained hidden under my bed, until the day your pregnancy was confirmed. From that day onwards, its contents have grown, until today, when I was able to give it to you. I was able to give the gifts a mother would give, to you, the closest thing to a daughter which I will ever have, for your daughter, the miracle daughter which you never believed you could have. I love you Shelagh Turner, and I'm looking forward to getting to know little Ruth, I hope she grows up to be as beautiful, strong and brave as her mother, and as kind and intelligent as her father."
Shelagh, Patrick and Cynthia all had tears streaming down their faces. Timothy lifted Ruth a little off his lap, indicating to Sister Julienne to take her from him. She picked her up and cradled her in her arms.
"Hello Ruth, I'm your Grandmother Julienne. We are going to have so much fun together."