Page 67 of A Christmas Wish for the Village Midwife

‘Don’t worry.’ Zoe hadn’t seen Rachel since the day she’d arrived for her routine appointment feeling a little off, only to discover she was in premature labour. That day Zoe had sent an anxiety-ridden expectant mum off to the hospital, but although she’d looked worried, she’d also looked considerably less fragile than she did now. ‘I wanted to see how you were holding up. You’re all right for me to come in, aren’t you? I can always rearrange…’

She didn’t want to rearrange, and studying Rachel now, she didn’t think it would be a good idea. She’d said it out of courtesy, and even if Rachel asked her to come back, Zoe quickly decided she’d find a way to string out their meeting so she could get a fix on how she was doing.

‘That’s OK.’ Rachel stepped back to let her in. ‘Sorry the place is a mess.’

‘I bet I’ve seen worse,’ Zoe said cheerily as she crossed the threshold. ‘Nobody is expecting you to keep house – you’ve not long given birth.’

‘She’s not here. They haven’t let her out of NICU yet.’

‘I know. It’s you I’ve come to see.’

‘I’m all right.’

‘I’d like to check anyway. Are you home alone? Do you have help to hand?’

‘Most of the time, Mason is here. His work has been great with him – they’ve let him have as much time as he needs. He’s at the hospital now with his mum and dad visiting Ophelia.’

‘Is that what you called her? That’s lovely.’

‘Thanks. We weren’t really ready with a name. We thought we’d have time, so we had to pick one really fast. I suppose it will start to suit her eventually, but it feels weird to say it out loud at the moment. To tell you the truth, it hasn’t sunk in that I’ve had her, probably because she’s not here…’

Rachel let out a heaving sob, and then the floodgates opened and she collapsed in Zoe’s waiting arms. It might have been something her old mentors would have frowned upon, but she let Rachel bury her head in her shoulder and cry, and she held on tight and didn’t say a word. They stood like this for three or four minutes – it was hard to tell, and though Zoe’s arms ached, she wasn’t about to let go until Rachel was ready.

‘I feel like it’s my fault,’ Rachel stuttered. ‘I keep wondering what could I have done better? Didn’t I take care? Did I do something wrong?’

‘It’s natural to feel that way,’ Zoe soothed, ‘but sometimes there’s nothing anyone can do.’

‘She’s so tiny, and I feel like I should be there with her, but I’m so exhausted. The staff sent me home; they said I ought to be resting, and I said I didn’t want to go, but really I did. What kind of mother does that make me? I wanted to come home and sleep, even though my little girl is fighting for her life. I’m here, and Mason is watching over her – I don’t deserve her, and I’m terrified every time the phone rings that it’s the unit, telling me she’s died, and⁠—’

Rachel’s sentence was cut short by more sobs. This time, Zoe led her gently to the sofa and made her sit down. She took a seat next to her and lifted her chin.

‘Now,’ she said, and she could see what an effort it was for Rachel to stop crying long enough to hear her. ‘I’m going to tell you what I think, and I know you’re going to find it hard to accept I’m right, but I’m going to tell you anyway. You have done nothing to cause this. You’re here resting because you desperately need it. The staff at the hospital know that, Mason knows it, and deep down I’m sure you know it, and there is nothing wrong with listening to your body. Being by Ophelia’s crib, exhausted, is helping no one – least of all Ophelia. I understand you want to be there for her, and I feel your pain, but you have to take care of yourself too because you’re no good to anyone if you’re too weak to function. Ophelia is being cared for by an amazing team who will do absolutely everything in their power to get her through a time that nobody is going to lie about and say it’s not difficult, because it is. But she couldn’t be in a better place, and it looks to me like she has loads of people to sit at her crib and talk to her who all love her just as much as you. I’m not saying don’t go there; I’m saying absolutely go there, but come away when you need to without guilt, because this is no good to your recovery or to Ophelia or Mason.’ She took a breath. ‘There. The bossy midwife has said her piece. You’re welcome to kick me out now if you don’t like what I’ve told you, but please say you’ll at least think about some of it and maybe give yourself a break. Ophelia has been through a lot, but so have you. Be kind to yourself and remember that.’

Rachel sniffed hard and rubbed the heel of her hand over her eyes. Zoe fished in her bag for a paper handkerchief and gave it to her.

‘Thanks,’ Rachel said. ‘I’m sorry, I⁠—’

‘Ah, ah! I don’t want to hear sorry either. No woman should ever have to apologise for reacting to a situation like this. You’re allowed to feel what you feel, and having to apologise invalidates those feelings as far as I’m concerned. And if someone thinks you owe them an apology for being affected by what you’ve been through, then they can jog on.’

Rachel gave a watery smile, though Zoe expected her to break again at any moment. It didn’t matter. Zoe would be there, and she would stay for as long as it took, even if it meant going home late.

‘Do you think she’ll be all right?’ she asked.

‘She’s with the best team there is. And, though it’s hard to believe for you right now, she’s actually not all that premature compared to a lot of babies I’ve seen during my time as a midwife. I know there have been one or two complications, but there’s every chance for a good outcome. Keep your spirits up. You never know, you might even have her home for Christmas.’

Rachel nodded and blew her nose. ‘That would be the best present ever.’

‘I can imagine.’

And for a moment, Zoe did imagine it. She imagined what it might be like to hold her own newborn, for Alex to be standing next to her with love in his eyes, for them to be celebrating together.

She pushed the image away. This wasn’t about her, and she hated that her mind had wandered from where it was meant to be – supporting Rachel. Zoe had made her choices – she had to keep reminding herself of that. Her choice had been to spare herself pain like this, like what Rachel was going through. Perhaps she’d come to see in time it had been a choice rooted in selfishness, or perhaps she’d see it had been right, but she couldn’t keep on remaking it because there was too much uncertainty there, and she’d had enough of that in her life already.

‘I should make you a drink,’ Rachel said.

Zoe shook off her musings and gave her another hug. ‘Absolutely not. What are you even talking about? I should be making you tea… In fact, have you eaten today?’

‘I haven’t been very hungry.’