Silver lining

Part 2

Miss Rosette Hamilton was a young one, she lived in the care of her Dad- Mum having died from cancer just a handful of years earlier- and she'd gone quite off the rails. The wretched young thing had lost her innocence and gained a baby in one night. Mr Hamilton had tried to love his little girl, but rumours said all he saw was the girl's mother.

When I arrived on the scene Rosette was waddling around the living room, her legs splayed wide and a heavy sway in her step. She wore a tatty old yellow nightdress, which looked like it hadn't been washed for months.

"Who are you?" She accused, pointing straight past me to Delia with a harsh, stabbing finger.

Tears stained the girls face and it was clear to any good nurse that the child was terrified; she was only sixteen.

"Now then, you might be in labour but that doesn't excuse manors. Rosette this is Nurse Busby, she has come to assist me."

"Hello," Delia's soft Welsh vowels drifted from behind me, and- as had been the case so many times- I had to stop myself from reaching to touch her.

Rosette didn't get a chance to reply to that, she groaned, bearing her teeth and digging her nails deep into her swollen stomach.

"Right now, let's get you into bed."

Several hours later, and after over a hundred contractions there was still no sign of a baby. The day's light which had risen as we left had started to come back down on us. The lack of baby didn't dampen my spirits however because I got the opportunity to watch Delia be the brilliant Nurse I knew she was.

Yes, Delia had seen babies delivered during training but that had been many moons ago and still she never faltered, guiding miss Hamilton by the hand, bringing her through each and every burning contraction.

It was unusual for a baby not to have moved down by this point. She had laboured for nearly eleven hours. I'd checked the position and baby's head was well engaged. Grabbing the penard from my selection of sterilised equipment on the side, I pushed it against her belly and attached my ear to the opposite side.

I listened; nothing.

And then the heartbeat was there, strong and fast and perfectly normal.

Delia tilted her head to look for a verdict in my eyes, I nodded in reply.

"Alright Miss Hamilton, I'm aware you have been pushing very hard for a long time, and I am aware you are horribly tired and so I'm going to telephone Doctor Turner. There is no reason to be alarmed, your baby is perfectly alright. I just think there's a new medicine which might give you a bit of help."

Pitocin had only just become available on the national health, and it was beginning to work wonders for women who often fainted during labour out of pure exhaustion. It worked- so Doctor Turner had explained at the briefing- by encouraging the body to increase contractions and bring the baby along a lot quicker.

Turning to Delia, who's knuckles where turning white under Rosette's grip, I spoke in medical terminology.

"The labour isn't progressing, I'm going to phone for the doctor and have her labour speed increased with a new drug. Will you be ok here while I run to the telephone?" Delia nodded, smiling the dazzling smile that I'd seen so many times. Delia was in her element.

As I stripped off my white gown and pushed on my jacket to trot down to the nearest telephone box at the end of the street, I thought about Delia. When we had first met I had seen something in her, a bright sparkle of light which wasn't in the other nurses. Delia-like myself- had chosen nursing as a career because she adored helping people, she wasn't scared of the mass-infected cuts or the gaping wounds of surgery. Delia was in it for the people, she cared for everyone; that was why I loved her so much.

It was dark again outside, the winter drawing closer, and the sky blacking out the sun in the way people blacked out their sitting rooms. The cold was biting too, nipping at my legs through the nylons like a Jack Russell terrier. It reminded me of the year before, the time when I'd almost lost the thing I adored, the only thing that had made me truly happy since my mother and sister died- Delia.

I arrived back in the warmth, tying my gown at the back, just as a contraction hit Miss Hamilton.

Delia was holding her hand still, but facing her now so she could show the young girl how to breathe as the contraction stripped her of everything but pain. Her sweet accent softly broke the silence as she congratulated Rosette on her work before noticing I was back in the room.

"Now, old chap, how are things?" I asked Rosette, once again kneeling between her legs. Carefully, once the contraction had ended I slipped my gloved hand inside the young girls body, spreading my fingers to check the width of her cervix.

"Oh, good news Rosette, you are more than dilated enough- perhaps we won't need the Pitocin."

Sure enough, half an hour later the baby was crowning and within forty five minutes and after one momentous push a new baby slipped into the world. The baby was nearly covered in white- far from the prettiest sight- but to me it was a sign of relief, a sight filled with joy and new beginnings.

Wrapping a towel around the tot I gave it a thorough rub, drawing a guttural wail from the newborn.

"What is it? Is it a girl?" Rosette puffed, still regaining her breath from the last contraction.

"You have a beautiful baby girl miss Hamilton, congratulations."

Rosette slowly began to smile, disbelief turning slowly into happiness and then to pure joy.

Delia reached out hesitantly to take the newborn and show her to the mother and I passed her over.

In the light of the window, as I heard the late doctor Turner's car draw up outside, I watched Delia cradle the newborn. She rocked the tiny baby gently as she presented her little face to Rosette. Her face shon with happiness and enthusiasm that I had never seen her show to her normal nursing duties. If only it were possible for her to become a mother.