Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Ellen smiled down at Krishna Patel. “Your baby just couldn’t wait to join us.”
Krishna moaned on the pallet, eyes rolling back in her head. “It’s too soon.” She panted for breath and gritted her teeth as another contraction rolled over her.
Taking the tendril of fear she always felt at this time, Ellen bundled it up and stuffed it deep inside. She waited for Krishna’s pain to cease before speaking again. “Early is my specialty.” She took Krishna’s hot, sweaty hand in hers. “I promise I will do everything I can.”
Himesh Patel gave a choking sigh in the background.
Ellen turned to face the husband. “Where are your other children? Can you tend to them?”
He shook his head, his dark curls standing on end from his hands running through it. “My mum has the girls next door. As soon as the pains started, I bundled them up and took them over.”
Ellen glanced at Amelia, who'd settled between Krishna’s drawn legs. Amelia glanced up at Ellen. “It won’t be long.”
“Can you boil us some more water? We’ll need it to clean your wife and the baby when it comes.”
Himesh mumbled something to himself and staggered into the kitchen. Their home was small but clean, and Himesh clearly worked hard at a decent-paying job. Krishna didn’t have to work, staying home with their two girls. That gave their baby a fighting chance.
Krishna clutched Ellen’s hand and gave a strangled scream.
“Here we go. Almost time to push,” Amelia muttered, wiping sweat off her brow with a bloody hand.
As the contraction passed, Ellen wiped Krishna’s brow with a wet rag. “You’re doing so well,” she told her. “You’re being so strong and brave.”
Krishna whimpered. “It’s too soon.”
Ellen patted Krishna’s hand. “Listen to me. That’s my concern. Right now your concern is getting this baby out. Let me worry about how early it is.” She smoothed a wet strand of hair away from Krishna’s face. “Besides, how early is it? Aren’t you eight months along?”
“Seven,” Krishna groaned as another contraction came over her.
“You’re doing well, Krishna,” Amelia said from her spot between her legs. “You’ve widened nicely, and I felt baby lower into position earlier. On the next contraction, try to give a little push. Nothing big, just a practice push so we can see how we are.”
It didn’t take too long once Krishna started pushing. This was her third delivery and the baby would be small. Ellen prayed it was another girl. In her experience, girls were stronger than boys when they came early.
“I see baby,” Amelia called out confidently.
Ellen had eased Krishna up into a reclined sitting position, using herself as a cushion behind her. “Do you hear, Krishna? We’re almost there.”
“It hurts,” Krishna got out.
“I know, I know.” Ellen stroked Krishna’s hair, once again overwhelmed by the notion that women did this every day and had since the beginning of time. “Almost over.”
“I see a head full of black hair!” Amelia grinned at Krishna. “Can’t tell if it’s curly or not yet, but I think this one will take after you.”
“It better,” Krishna choked. “After all the trouble I went through making these children, and they have the audacity to look like their father.”
Ellen and Amelia laughed. “That’s right.”
Amelia was in high spirits. Ellen and she had delivered babies together for five years now, though not frequently.
Ellen had gotten to know Amelia’s tells.
Although Amelia was always calm and confident, even cheerful under the worst of circumstances, Ellen could tell Amelia expected Krishna to recover completely from the birth with no bad effects.
At least one person will be walking away from this alive.
Ellen knew exactly how heartbroken and grief-stricken Krishna would be if her baby did not survive.
Another three pushes, and Amelia guided the baby's shoulders and body out of Krishna, eyes sparkling and breathing heavily. “A little boy, Krishna!”
Ellen eased up to shift to her knees at Krishna’s side, then hastily helped Krishna untie the drawstring around her shift’s neck, dragging it down to expose Krishna’s breasts.
“Let’s put baby here,” she said, but Krishna had done this before.
She practically grabbed the baby out of Amelia’s hands and planted it gently yet firmly against her beating heart.
“How is he? Will he live?” Krishna’s wide eyes and trembling mouth made Ellen’s heart twist. She wanted to get a good look at the baby’s color, but Krishna had covered the baby with both her hands, clutching him close.
Ellen swatted the baby’s backside as best she could.
A thin wail trickled up from the baby, and Ellen sighed in relief.
“We need to make sure his airway is clear,” Ellen told Krishna.
“Let me have him for a moment.” She carefully extricated the newborn from Krishna’s nervous grasp and held him, head leaning down, in one palm while she thumped his back with the heel of her other hand.
A thin trail of mucus fell from his crying mouth. His little chest heaved, and he scrunched up his red face in anger. Ellen took note of the purple flush spreading underneath the gray, cheesy coating covering his body. Good, she thought. Circulation is good. Crying is good. We have hope.
Making sure to carefully avoid tangling the umbilical cord still pulsing with blood, Ellen settled the baby back in his mother’s arms. “He’s a good size for seven months,” Ellen encouraged. “The next week will be the most important.”
Krishna, wide-eyed, stared and nodded. “Can Himesh come hear this, too?”
Ellen turned to see Himesh wringing his hands in the doorway separating the kitchen and living area. “Come here and meet your son.” She backed away to give the parents space together. Glancing down at Amelia, she asked, “Afterbirth here?”
Amelia frowned, palpating Krishna’s swollen belly. “No.”
“Need help?”
Amelia put her hands around a very large, very baby-shaped lump in Krishna’s abdomen. “Krishna,” she said calmly, interrupting the tears and prayers of the couple.
Himesh broke off whatever he was saying and stared at Amelia in dismay. “What is it?”
“Krishna,” Amelia started again. “Does anyone in your family have twins?”
“My mother had twins before I was born, but they came too early.” Krishna’s eyes widened as soon as the words came out of her mouth. “Do I...is it...” She gulped. “Doctor Amelia—”
“I believe,” Amelia cut in smoothly, “that we’re not yet done for the night.” She nestled back down between Krishna’s still drawn legs and eased her hand upward.
Ellen tried not to grimace as Krishna flinched and held back a screech at the invasion.
“Well,” Amelia said brightly, elbow-deep in Krishna, “I believe we now know why you went into premature labor!”
Ellen hated twins. No, that wasn’t true. She loved the idea of twins. But twins came with so many more risks, and Krishna was experiencing one of them now.
A contraction racked through Krishna, causing her to groan.
“Himesh, it looks like we’ll need your help after all.
” Ellen swooped in and plucked the baby boy from Krishna’s arms. Single handed, she took Amelia’s scissors and cut the umbilical cord, now empty of the lifeblood Krishna had shared with her son.
On her knees, Ellen turned to face Himesh. “Take your shirt off.”
He did, without question.
Ellen gestured for him to get into a comfortable sitting position, then laid the whimpering baby on his hairy chest. The baby blinked, dark eyes wide, and he wrinkled his face at the touch of his father’s chest hair against his cheek.
“Here we are, sweet one,” Ellen crooned.
She looked up at Himesh. “I’d normally wait to talk to both of you, but Krishna is still busy. ”
Himesh’s deep brown eyes strayed from Ellen to glance with consternation at his wife, moaning on the floor.
“Doctor Amelia is excellent at her job,” Ellen told him, drawing his attention back to her. “Right now, the best thing you can do for Krishna is to take care of your son. He needs your help.”
Himesh bit his lip, nodding.
“Listen closely. For the next week, this baby does not come off your chest. The only reason he will leave your chest is for a nappy change and to suckle milk. Any other time, he should be on your chest.” Ellen reached down to find swaddling cloths, already used and covered in milk stains from their last baby, and tucked the ends around him. “What name had you chosen for a boy?”
Himesh blinked. “Um, Pradip, after my father.”
“That’s a beautiful name.” Ellen placed her hands over Himesh’s, showing him how to keep the cloths tight around the baby’s back. “Babies born this early have a chance. But I won’t lie, it’s a slim chance.”
Himesh stared up at her, anguish in his eyes.
“You have a chance,” Ellen repeated gently. “If you do everything I say, there is a chance. Babies born this early have three hurdles to overcome: body heat, breathing, and swallowing.”
Himesh nodded at each of her words. “If...if he’d been born any earlier...our slim chance would be…” he trailed off.
Ellen stared at him solemnly. There was no need to complete his sentence. They both knew a baby born two months early faced enough challenges, and one born even earlier would not survive. “I can’t promise anything,” she said gently. “But we can try.”
He took a deep breath and nodded again. “I understand. So what do I do?”
“Like I said, that baby does not come off your chest for a week. These first days are the most crucial. He is too small to generate his own body heat.” Truthfully, Ellen was amazed at how large the baby was for being so premature.
At least we have that going for us. “You must keep him warm.
On your bare skin is best, and you should keep a stock of hot water bottles to use also.