Capturing Ella

(Releasing Joe) Chapter 70 - Joe

December 8th

Finally, Ella was wheeled into the delivery room and I followed behind her. The labour had been a long, painful and tiring one, with around fifty hours between her first contraction in the extremely early hours of the sixth of December to the point she was nine and a half centimetres dilated at stupid o'clock and was ready to be taken into the delivery suite. I had never been so excited, barely able to sit still, but I hated seeing Ella in pain and this whole labour thing was taking it to new levels. I wanted to hug and comfort her but we couldn't do that. Eventually after following her bed (she protested she was more than capable of walking the midwife shot down that proposal) we reached the delivery suite.

What the fuck is half of this shit? Ella asked and I had to agree. The room was full of machines and random bits and pieces. Holy shit, it hurts.

Just breathe through it honey, it'll be over soon.

Not soon enough.

'Ella, just try and relax,' the midwife said, but her name was unknown to both of us. She introduced herself, the midwife, to both Ella and I but we didn't know her actual name so I pray we wouldn't have to refer to her by her name. My fiancée gave me a slightly sideways look, almost like she was going "I was planning too, and then I went into labour." But pretended to do what she says.

'Now we're going to get that beautiful girl out of you,' Melissa said gently to her, touching her shoulder. 'Then you can finally go home,' she said to me, winking as she adjusted Ella's pillows. The door opened as two more midwifes wheeled in a small Perspex cot, with loads of machines attached it. Both Ella and I looked at it like it was a vial of poison.

'What's that for?'

'Just in case your baby isn't responding to the real world in a good way and we have to rush her down to the neonatal unit,' One of the new nurses/midwives, I don't know what they are, said as she plugged in the machine. Ella looked at me in horror, and I couldn't quite hide my fear. 'It's just a precaution,' the midwife told us, 'we have to bring it in for every baby born before 35 weeks – but you are on that 35 week barrier, and she's a fighter, she'll be fine,'

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An hour later, Ella was ready to start pushing. A whole haggle of doctors were now in the room as Ella was starting to lose blood and was already on her first blood transfusion. The doctors had prepped a theatre room for her just in case she needed an emergency c-section if she lost any more blood. It was clear to see everyone in the room was tense and it didn't help I lost all control of my gift and was able to read their thoughts. Ella was also on the edge of having another panic attack – her seventh one since coming into hospital. I stood next to her, rubbing her frozen hand. The doctors also didn't miss the fact Ella was freezing which is probably why there is so many of them and the thickness of the blanket. Many said it was the snow outside that probably was making Ella cold, but I knew the real story.

'Okay Ella, you're gunna have to start pushing with your next contraction – do you understand?' The patronising midwife asked her and Ella just looked slightly out of it. I knew what was happening. She was so tired that she kept accidently projecting. I nudged her slightly.

'Yeah, okay, sorry,' Ella muttered.

'You have to stay with it honey,' Melissa said, touching her knee.

After ten or so minutes of pushing and screams and blood and doctor's versus midwifes who wanted to take her to theatre, the others said it's fine just to let her carry on, the baby had finally decided to make an appearance. The midwives told Ella they could see her head and a few more pushes and the ordeal would be over. They even invited me to come down and have a look which I had to greatfully decline because I hate blood and everything else, Ella knew this and laughed slightly, but looked shattered. Honestly, I didn't blame her. The hospital said it was one of the longest labours they have had in years, and it's weird because we didn't fall into any categories which they expected longer labour. Ella – bless her – didn't look her best either. Covered in sticky sweat, greasy hair, and she just looked so tired and done. She kept telling me how she couldn't do this, then I had to reassure her completely, then after one push it was the same cycle over again.

'Ella, you are doing absolutely brilliantly doll, she's nearly here. We need you to push one more time,' Melissa said to her and she nodded. 'It's important it's a big push this time, baby is starting to look a bit grey,'

'Is she okay?' Ella immediately asked.

'She'll be fine – we just need to clear out her lungs of any fluid and get her to start crying. Babies always cry when they're fine,' Melissa reassured Ella and she nodded slightly. We both knew that – that's why they always show it in films and on TV. If the baby cries it symbolises everything is perfectly okay.

'Ready Ella?'

'Yeah, let's do this.' She said, flopping her head back. By the looks of it she will not want any more children any time soon.

'That's it – push!' The nurse said and everyone in the room held their breath. 'Hello there baby girl Matthews!' Melissa said, putting our daughter straight up onto Ella's stomach for a few seconds before taking her away.

'Born at 4:14am, congratulations, you two are now parents,' Melissa said, doing some things under the blanket between Ella's legs that both of us really didn't want to ask about. I knew it was something to do with the afterbirth but seeing the amount of blood and other crap that had just come out of my fiancee's body I was feeling incredibly light headed and sick.

Ella and I smiled at each other and her face lit up like the sun. I kissed her gently, but we were interrupted by the midwives and doctors and nurses all speaking at the same time. Three or four of them crowded around our baby, another two around Ella, Melissa still working on Ella.

'Can you get me another three units of O negative, please, we've got a ruptured haemorrhage.' Melissa said to one of the nurses, who ran out the room.

'What's going on?' I asked, keeping an eye on Melissa but having to look away when the sheets turned an interesting shade of crimson. I looked up to see four people around the baby, cutting the cord down smaller and pegging it, weighing her and opening her mouth. But there was something missing.

'Ella's bleeding out quite a bit from the birth – we know she had that bleed when you were in Devon and it's similar to that apart from there's nothing stopping it. We can apply pressure until the afterbirth is out and then fix it, or force the afterbirth out now and get it all done as soon as we can,' The midwife looked up at Ella.

'Do it now.' Ella muttered, finally coming around a bit more. 'Wait, why is she not crying?'

I looked up realising that was exactly what was missing – our baby was not crying and remained silent on the side table in the delivery room. The nurses, doctors and midwives didn't stop what they were doing to answer our question.

'Why is she not crying?' Ella asked again.

'Ella, we need you to calm down. They're doing all they can for your baby, you need to stay with me.'

'What's wrong with her, you can't just not tell us!' Ella protested as I stood like a fish out of water, gaping at Ella, the blood, and our daughter who was still a bluey-grey shade. The doctors moved her into the space like Perspex cot before wheeling her out the room, still unresponsive.