Page 20 of The Midwife By the Sea

‘Tabby, don’t, we can’t put ourselves in Hope’s shoes and try to influence her.’ Their father’s expression was serious for once. ‘This needs to be her decision.’

‘Of course it does, but I think it might help her to hear other people’s perspectives.’ Tabby sighed and looked at Hope. ‘You’re not telling Joe, because you want to protect his wife, but what about what you want? If you didn’t know about them trying for a baby, would you be planning to approach him?’

‘Yes, but I do know about that, so how can I still do it?’ Hope looked towards her mother. ‘Would you want to know, if Dad had a child out there somewhere he didn’t know existed?’

‘If it was you, of course I would.’

‘But that’s because you already love me. What if it was some stranger, not connected to you in any way, as far as you knew?’ She held her mother’s gaze, until Alison turned to look at her husband.

‘I think you need to tell her about what it is that wakes you up in the night.’

‘Prostates can be a nightmare for men of his age.’ Hope hadn’t been able to stop herself from making the joke. It was just the way their family was wired, and she was glad she’d said it, because it had definitely broken some of the tension, making all of them laugh.

‘See now, if there was ever any proof needed that you’re a Masterson through and through, it’s comments like that.’ Dave shook his head, still smiling. ‘But what your mum means, is that every so often, I have this horrible dream, where we’re out when the social worker calls to ask us if we can look after you, and you end up going to live with another family. It wakes me up every time, panicking that we missed our chance to make you our daughter and I hate that thought more than I could ever explain.’

‘So you don’t think I should speak to Joe?’

Her father drew in a long breath, sighing deeply before he finally shook his head again. ‘No, I think I’m saying that if I was Joe, I’d want to know. The thought that I had a chance to have you in my life, but missed it, is my worst nightmare. If Joe got to know you, I’m certain he’d feel the same.’

‘But you can’t really know that for sure.’ Hope could feel her defences weakening, because deep down, part of her still wanted to tell Joe the truth. And Tabby was right, if she didn’t know about his struggle to have a child with Esther, she would already have told him.

‘No one can ever know anything for sure, sweetheart.’ Her mother’s tone was gentle. ‘I just don’t think you should have a knee-jerk reaction to ruling it out altogether. This is a huge decision and there’s no need to rush it. Maybe give things a bit more time and see how you feel. It’s taken you twenty-six years to even begin to think about all of this and I don’t want you to write off any of the options for anyone’s sake but your own.’

‘Okay.’ Hope’s voice was low, but the word was a promise to her mother, and she never broke those. That didn’t mean she’d changed her mind and that she was definitely going to tell Joe who she was. It just meant the door wasn’t closed altogether any more and, when she got back to Cornwall, she needed to be open to all the possibilities, because the only thing she knew for certain was that her mother was right. This wasn’t a decision that should be rushed.

Esther had been telling herself that one more month might be enough, ever since she and Joe had first discussed the prospect of starting fertility treatment. Even after their appointment at the private clinic, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to set a date to start the IVF, because a part of her couldn’t let go of the idea of conceiving naturally. It was a weird kind of paralysis, not going ahead with the first cycle, when she’d been so certain that she didn’t want to wait any longer. It was when the doctors had warned her that she and Joe would need to stop trying once the treatment began, that had made it so hard to commit. It felt like a path they couldn’t turn back from once they started down it. She knew that idea was completely irrational, but if they stopped the IVF treatment once they began, it would either be because they had a baby, or it hadn’t worked and they couldn’t bear to go on trying. It felt like their final chance and, once they took that, there was nowhere else to go, which was why she still couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. She just needed one more month.

Instead of starting IVF, as the doctors at the clinic had recommended, Esther was doubling down on trying to fall pregnant naturally. Although that wasn’t strictly true, because she’d been prescribed a drug to help stimulate ovulation. If it worked, there was an increased chance of having twins, which the doctor had explained as though it were a downside. Esther knew that having twins would be exhausting and use up every bit of energy she had and more besides, but she still couldn’t think of anything more wonderful. Right now, she’d give anything for one baby, but as an only child herself, she’d never wanted the same for her own child. Having two at once and never having to go through the agony of trying to fall pregnant again felt like the most amazing gift she could ever be given. So that wasn’t the reason that taking the drug worried her.

As a medical professional, Esther always did her research, as did Joe, and they were both aware of the other potential side effects. The one that worried Esther most was the impact the drug could have on egg implantation if it was used over a long period of time. The idea of taking anything that might inadvertently make it harder for her to get pregnant was terrifying. There was also the need to wait at least a month between the last dose of the medication and starting the IVF process. It was madness to fear the delay, when she was the one delaying it in the first place, but all logic seemed to have gone out of the window lately.

Thank God for work being so reliably busy, because it continued to be the one time she wasn’t fixated on having a baby, although today even work wasn’t providing the release it usually did. She’d taken her temperature this morning, as she always did, and after spotting a pattern in the readings, she’d followed it up with an ovulation test after Joe had already left for work. Today was prime baby-making time and she’d spent most of it counting down to when she could go home with Joe. She didn’t doubt that there were some people who worked in the hospital who would have sloped off somewhere to get the deed done. Joe had a private office, after all, but that really wasn’t Esther’s style. This whole thing felt clinical enough as it was, without rushing over to Joe’s office for a quickie.

What made it even harder to switch off from thinking about babies, was the fact that she was working with paediatric emergencies today and it seemed to have been one baby after another. She and Danni organised most of the staffing, and it had been an unspoken agreement between them to keep Esther away from working with their youngest patients, but today there’d been no choice. There were too many staff off sick and none of the NHS bank nurses they’d brought in to help cover the shortfall had Esther’s level of experience in children’s medicine. She couldn’t allow her personal life to affect her work. She wouldn’t. She just had to push down the emotions that threatened to well up every time she held a baby in her arms.

Right now, the woman in front of her, a new mother of just six weeks, was clearly terrified. Triaging the patient and carrying out an initial assessment of what might be wrong with the baby, before deciding whether to call upon one of the paediatricians, wasn’t Esther’s only job. She also needed to stop the little boy’s mother tipping into the kind of hysteria that wouldn’t be good for anyone. When it came to babies, there was a good proportion where the main issue was parental anxiety, but she went into every situation with an open mind. Making assumptions was one of the most dangerous things a medical professional could do.

‘I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t get an appointment with the GP, and I’ve left messages for the health visitor and the midwife who came to see me after he was born, but no one has got back to me yet. Arlo’s been screaming all night and nothing I do can comfort him, I’m useless.’ The woman, who’d told Esther that her name was Fern, had red-rimmed eyes, shimmering with tears, and she looked terrified and exhausted in equal measure.

‘Of course you’re not useless. Arlo’s poorly, but you’re being a great mum, trying to comfort him and getting him help. You did the right thing bringing him to see us. With babies it’s always better to be safe.’ Esther gave Fern what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Apart from the screaming, have you noticed any other symptoms?’

‘He keeps drawing his legs right up to his chest and when he was sick it wasn’t milky like it usually is, it was sort of yellow and foamy.’ Fern’s eyes were like saucers, her voice shaking as she continued. ‘There’s something really wrong with him, isn’t there?’

‘Try not to worry. Arlo’s in the right place and whatever’s wrong, we’re going to help him.’ Esther already had an idea what might be going on, but she needed to examine the little boy, who was crying and squirming in his mother’s arms. ‘I need to check Arlo over, is that okay, Fern?’

‘Of course.’ She moved to hand the baby to Esther, who laid him on the examination table, trying not to inhale the new baby smell that always made her heart swell and then contract again. It was as though a bit of it was chipped off every time she held a child that wasn’t hers, fearing there might never be one who was.

‘I’m just going to feel Arlo’s tummy.’ Esther opened the poppers on his baby grow, before lifting his vest and applying gentle pressure to what looked very much like a distended abdomen. It was hard to the touch too and Esther’s breath caught in her throat. When she examined the baby’s head, the fontanel appeared sunken, all the signs so far pointing to one thing. ‘How have Arlo’s nappies been? Has he been passing urine and stools the way he usually does?’

‘No, but he’s been refusing his bottle, so it’s no surprise, and when he’s not screaming, he seems almost floppy. But he won’t have any energy, will he? If he’s not eating properly or sleeping?’ The tears in Fern’s eyes were spilling over now and Esther wanted to give her a hug, but the priority was getting Arlo the help he needed.

‘I think Arlo might have a blockage in his bowel, which is preventing him from passing stools and that’s what’s causing his pain and other symptoms.’

‘Oh, thank goodness it’s nothing serious.’ Fern’s whole body seemed to relax. ‘You can just give him something to help him go, can’t you?’

Esther bit her lip, reluctant to take away the other woman’s newfound optimism, because Fern clearly had no idea just how serious this could be. Life-threatening, in fact. There were a number of reasons why Arlo might have a blockage in his bowel, but, whatever the cause, it was a medical emergency, and she couldn’t sugarcoat this for Fern, no matter how much she might want to.

‘I’m going to get one of the paediatricians to look at Arlo, because he needs immediate treatment for whatever is causing his obstruction and the first stage of identifying the cause is going to be an ultrasound.’