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‘Tell me what’s happening.’

Rhuaridh nodded. ‘The cord is coming down the birth canal before, or adjacent to, the baby. It means that every time Magda has a contraction, there’s a risk the cord can be compressed and affect the blood flow to your baby.’

‘Our baby could die?’ David’s words were little more than a squeak.

Rhuaridh shook his head, but Kristie could see the tense muscles at the bottom of his neck. The tiny hairs prickled on her skin. She was useless here—no help whatsoever. What did she know about medical emergencies?

She walked over to the window and looked outside, putting her hands on her hips and taking a few breaths.

The midwife’s voice cut across momentary panic. ‘Magda, we’re going to change your position. Kristie!’ The voice was sharp—one you wouldn’t hesitate to follow. ‘Run upstairs to the bedroom and grab me all the pillows on the bed.’

Rhuaridh finished his call and moved over to help move Magda onto her side. Kristie did exactly what she’d been told and dashed up the stairs in the house, turning one way then the other until she found the room with the large double bed and grabbed every pillow on it. She paused for the briefest of seconds as her eyes focused on the little white Moses basket at the side of the bed. The basket that had been placed there with the hope and expectation of a beautiful baby.

She held back the sob in her throat as she ran back down the stairs and thrust the pillows towards Rhuaridh. He and Miriam moved in unison. Rhuaridh spoke in a low voice as he helped adjust Magda’s position with some pillows under her left flank and her right knee and thigh pulled up towards her chest. ‘The position is supposed to alleviate pressure on the umbilical cord.’ His words were quiet and Kristie wasn’t sure if he was explaining to her or to David.

Magda’s hands were trembling slightly. She was scared and Kristie’s heart went out to her. How must this feel? All of a sudden this felt like a real intrusion instead of a filming opportunity. How dared they be there right now?

Rhuaridh’s gaze connected with hers. She wasn’t quite sure what she was reading there. His voice seemed a little steely. ‘Gerry, the air ambulance will land in the field next to the house—you might want to get that.’ Gerry nodded and was gone in the blink of an eye.

She was still looking at those bright blue eyes, trying to control the overwhelming sensation of being utterly useless in a situation completely out of her area of expertise. Right now all she could do was send up a prayer that both Magda and this baby would be fine. It was amazing how quickly a set of circumstances could envelop you. Was this what every day was like for a doctor?

All of a sudden she had a new understanding of her grumpy doctor. This was a situation he could end up in any day, and today it involved a friend. She could almost sense the history in the room between them all. The long-standing friendship, along with the expectations. If something happened to Magda or this baby, things would never be the same again.

The monitor for the baby kept pinging. At least that was reassuring. Miriam and Rhuaridh had a conversation about whether another examination should be carried out. Both agreed not, though Kristie averted her gaze while Miriam did a quick visual check to reassure that no cord was protruding.

Rhuaridh moved over next to her and she caught a whiff of his woody aftershave. ‘What’s gone wrong?’ Kristie whispered. Magda was holding her husband’s hand, her eyes fixed on the monitor that showed the baby’s heartbeat.

Rhuaridh spoke in a low, quiet voice. ‘Magda wasn’t at high risk for anything. She’d planned for this home birth within an inch of her life. Cord prolapse is unusual, and Magda has no apparent risk factors. But, right now, every time she has a contraction, the baby’s heartbeat goes down, meaning the cord is being compressed.’

‘Can’t you do anything?’

He shook his head. ‘The cord isn’t obviously protruding, so we just need to get Magda to hospital as soon as possible. This baby needs to be delivered and Magda will need to have a Caesarean section.’ He ran his hand through his hair, the frustration on his face evident. ‘We just don’t have the facilities here for that—or the expertise.’

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