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‘Please, don’t let him die—please. Oh, Mike—do something.’
Tearing sobs shook her slight frame and Zan put her arms around her, praying for a miracle.
It was Christmas. Didn’t miracles happen at Christmas?
Obviously not.
The baby was limp and unresponsive and Mike gave a moan of anguish, the fight draining out of him.
Zan felt her eyes fill.
It was so unfair.
The baby was so tiny and helpless.
It deserved to live.
Finally Carlo bent his head and covered the baby’s mouth and nose with his mouth, breathing gently. Then he started cardiac massage, using his index and middle fingers to depress the sternum.
The tears spilled out of Zan’s eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Maybe it was unprofessional to cry but she just couldn’t help it.
She could see that Carlo was using every trick at his disposal but the baby was showing no signs of responding.
He was just too little.
‘What’s happening—?’ Mike’s voice was rough with panic and Zan looked at him pleadingly, trying to appeal to the father in him.
‘He’s very, very sick. We have to get the baby to hospital. Please, let me call an ambulance. Please, Mike…’ She choked slightly and saw Mike hesitate, but before he could speak the baby gave a little cough and a feeble cry.
Kelly gasped in delight. ‘He’s alive! You’ve done it. Oh, thank you.’ She burst into tears again and Mike frowned and went to put his arms around her.
Carlo was still working on the baby.
‘He isn’t out of the woods yet,’ he said grimly, wrapping the baby warmly and covering his head to prevent further heat loss. ‘This baby is tiny, Kelly, and he’s grunting. That means that he’s having trouble with his lungs. Babies that are born early can suffer from something called respiratory distress syndrome. They need help with their breathing.’
‘And what happens if they don’t get it?’ Kelly’s voice shook and Carlo looked directly at Mike.
‘Sometimes they die.’
Zan flinched at the brutality of his words but she knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to make Mike understand the seriousness of the situation. Carlo had produced a miracle but this baby was desperately in need of hospital care, and without it…
Kelly turned to Mike, her eyes terrified. ‘We have to let them take him into hospital. We have to!’
Mike was breathing heavily. ‘You know how I feel about hospitals.’
‘I know.’ Tears were streaming down Kelly’s face as she watched Carlo working to save her son. ‘And I wanted to stay at home, too. But that’s before it all went wrong. He’s ill, Mike. If he stays at home he might die, and we’ll always blame ourselves and I don’t think I can live with that. They’re trying to help. They care. They’re not like the others.’
‘What others?’ Carlo asked the question, still monitoring the baby’s breathing.
Zan held her breath. In the few months she’d been coming to visit them she’d never got to the bottom of Kelly’s story. All she knew was what the social worker had told her. That Kelly and Mike hated doctors and hospitals.
No one knew why.
‘If you can tell us what happened, what you’re so afraid of, then maybe we can help,’ she said softly, and Kelly swallowed hard.
‘Mike lost his brother…’ She glanced nervously at Mike, obviously expecting her confession to provoke an angry reaction, but Mike was slouched against the wall, his face drawn.
Carlo looked up, his gaze suddenly intent. ‘I’m sorry. That must have been terrible for you. What happened?’
