Page 20 of Heartbreak for the Irish Midwife

‘Not great, love.’

‘Oh, no! What’s wrong?’ She lifted the woman’s right arm, feeling for the pulse at her wrist. Seems normal.

‘Me milk is coming in, and I’m so engorged I can’t even get my wee one to feed.’ She indicated the baby sleeping in the wooden cot by the side of the bed. ‘He tries, but I’m not sure he’s getting very much.’

‘Right. Let me pull these screens round for you.’ She rose, pulling one of the curtained screens on wheels across the room, then unfolding it between the two women’s beds. The next screen she placed on the other side. Finally, she added a third screen to the bottom of Mrs Watson’s bed space, ensuring her privacy. ‘Right. Let’s have a look.’ Mrs Watson unbuttoned the front of her nightdress, wincing as her left arm brushed the side of her breast.

‘Aw yes, very engorged,’ said Maisie, stating the obvious. ‘Let’s see if baby can relieve any of it.’

Carefully, she lifted the sleeping baby out of his cot. He yawned and stretched, then snuggled back into deep sleep again in Maisie’s arms. ‘You’re a sleepy chap, aren’t you?’ she declared, stroking his face with a gentle finger. Thankfully he turned towards it, rooting and searching. ‘Ah, good stuff, wee man. Your mammy’s right here.’

Carefully, she placed the baby on to his mother, then watched as he got himself attached and began to feed. ‘Looks good, Mrs Watson – oops!’ He had slid off, so she helped his mother reattach him.

‘You see?’ Mrs Watson sounded distressed. ‘He won’t stay on. Do you think he has a tongue tie like Mrs Murray’s wee girl?’

‘He might do. It also might be the engorgement.’

The baby was crying lustily now, so Maisie bent down to see into his mouth. ‘His tongue doesn’t look restricted – see?’ The front of the tongue was lifting well. ‘I’m going to get some gloves and check further back. All right?’

‘Aye.’ Mrs Watson was trying to soothe the baby, who was clearly hungry.

‘You try him again there. I’ll be straight back.’

Emerging from behind the screens, she saw that visitors were starting to arrive, and began to walk more quickly. Taking a clean pair of gloves from the cupboard, she returned to Mrs Watson and quickly donned them. The baby was still crying. ‘Now, I’ll need you to hold him up a bit for me, facing you.’ Mrs Watson did so, and carefully, Maisie inserted her two index fingers into the baby’s mouth from behind him, exploring the space beneath his tongue. Thankfully, there was no posterior tongue tie – a thick band of mucosa or fascia beneath the back part of the tongue which was less obvious than the anterior (front) version, but just as challenging for feeding. ‘All good,’ she said.

Mrs Watson looked crestfallen. ‘Ah no. I was hoping that would be it, cos that’s easily fixed.’

Maisie was sympathetic. ‘I’m sure. But we’ll figure it out, never worry.’ She ran a hand over the baby’s head. The anterior fontanelle – the soft spot on the child’s skull – was very slightly sunken, which suggested the baby was a little dehydrated.

‘Is he having plenty of wet nappies?’

Mrs Watson shook her head, making Maisie’s heart sink. ‘Only a couple.’ That’s not good.

‘And he was in the nursery, yes?’

‘He was, aye. Only because they said his breathing was all rattly when he was first born. But he’s not a bit rattly now.’

‘That’s great. So he’ll have been getting bottles up in the nursery.’

‘Aye. Dr Lowe said he might take time to learn how to feed properly, like.’

‘Dr Lowe is exactly right.’ Foolishly, Maisie’s heart had skipped a beat. I need to wise up. This was exactly how she had started with Gerald – thinking of him at random times, feeling that flutter of excitement in her belly. And look how that had ended.

‘So what do I do, Nurse?’

‘We keep trying until he manages,’ she said firmly. ‘Between having to learn a new sucking technique, and the fact that your breasts are so engorged, it’s going to be tough for him, and that’s the truth!’

‘Aye, that’s true. But I fed all the rest of them, so hopefully we’ll get there!’

‘Definitely.’ She eyed the baby intently. ‘Now, baby seems to be on there all right.’

‘He is! I hope he stays on this time.’

‘I’ll sit with you a minute just to see.’

‘I was so delighted that Dr Lowe managed to get my wee one out of the nursery. He’s a good lad. He was here earlier.’

‘Aye.’ Maisie’s answer was deliberately non-committal.