Kamiyo squeezed the man’s shoulder. “These are less than ideal conditions. Let’s try to salvage this situation, okay?”
Pritchard nodded, which prompted Kamiyo to get to work. He told Holly what he was doing as he examined her, but she was too out of it to respond. Her cervix was loose and dilated, but the surrounding muscles were lax. The baby was ready to come, but her body wasn’t pushing. The morphine was stronger than her hormones.
He felt for the baby’s head and found it. “Baby is in a good position, Holly. You’ve transitioned, and we’re ready to get this little bundle out into the world. If you can hear me, I need you to push—almost like you’re trying to do a poo, okay?”
Kamiyo still had his hands inside the woman, and he felt a slight flexing around his fingers. If it was Holly responding and trying to push, they might have a chance of pulling this off.
Philip came back with a shopping basket full of drugs. Kamiyo picked out the Misoprostol and weighed up whether to use it. “I think we’re passed the point where this will help us. Did you find the caffeine pills?”
Philip nodded.
Truthfully, Kamiyo didn’t know what he was doing. Labour complications were generally all mapped out, with protocols to follow for each occurrence and a team of staff ready to assist. A morphine overdose, however, was something he’d never encountered. He’d never seen an epidural over-administered even once. Holly was slipping towards a coma at worst, and an inappropriate high at best. The damage was done, and he couldn’t reverse it. He could only halt its progression.
He looked for his nurse. “Becky, mix up the caffeine pills with water and try to get Holly to drink as much of it as you can. It’s probably pointless, but if we give her even a slight boost, it might give us what we need to deliver this baby. We’ve just got to hope that Holly is still with us.”
Everyone stood in a semi-circle around the sofa, the only voices were Kamiyo’s and Holly’s. Holly’s moaning had continued, which was a good sign. She still felt pain, which meant she wasn’t unconscious. Kamiyo soothed her as much as he could, coaxing her to push. Her uterine muscles tightened irregularly, but it was something. Becky got sips of caffeinated water down her throat gently enough to keep from choking her.
An hour passed before they knew it.
Kamiyo had the baby’s head between his fingertips now, and he pulled as gently as he could. His hands were slippery with blood, and cramped, which made it slow going. He was no longer sure if the baby was alive. If it was, it was dosed with morphine. Becky and Philip, to both their credit were alert and responsive to his every command. A good support team. Aymun and Pritchard stayed out of the way.
“I can’t stand this,” said Pritchard after a while. “All the death and suffering. I just… I thought if we could get this baby out into the world… If we could just see a birth instead of more death…” The man blubbered to himself, at a breaking point.
“Ben, everything is fine. There’s a picnic later.”
Pritchard froze. “Holly?”
Holly smiled. “Where’s Tony?”
“I don’t know anyone called Tony. I don’t think you do either.”
Becky gave Pritchard a sympathetic glance. “It’s just the morphine talking.”
Kamiyo felt a twinge of hope. “No, this is good. Holly was almost unconscious, and now she’s chatting away. She’s moving in the right direction.” He got firmer with the woman. It was now or never. “Holly? I know you’re confused, but you need to push. Pretend you’re on the toilet, and you need to take the biggest shit in your life. Push it out!”
Holly giggled. “You sweared. Push shit out.”
“Yes,” said Kamiyo. “Push. Shit. Out.” He looked at the others. Becky understood. She cleared her throat and repeated the mantra.
Philip twigged next. “Push. Shit. Out.”
Pritchard joined in last.
Aymun remained silent and bemused.
Holly chanted with them, giggling. She had stopped moaning now, her pain receptors too dulled to fire, but she was awake. And she was pushing.
The feeling of her uterus writhing around Kamiyo’s hands was amazing—like he was feeling life returning to dead flesh. It throbbed and clenched. The baby began to move. He pulled harder, decided that speed was now too much of a factor. His fingers moved higher and Holly pushed harder and harder.
The baby’s head came down into the birth canal, held in place by the vaginal walls. Holly continued pushing while Kamiyo still had his hands inside of her. “That’s it, Holly! Push! That’s so good. It’s almost out. Hard as you can now, sweetheart.”
Holly screamed, her pain suddenly switching back on. She rose up on her hands and bore down, bellowing like an angry gorilla.
The baby slid out onto the sofa like a dead fish. It didn’t move. A small pool of blood spread around it.
Kamiyo lifted the baby by the ankles and spanked it. Then he swooped a finger in its mouth to clear its airways. Still it made no sound.
But it stared into Kamiyo’s eyes curiously and blinked. A sleepy newborn.
A baby high on morphine.
“The baby’s alive, and it’s a boy,” he said with relief, “but he’s suffering the effects of the morphine.” With one hand, he parted Holly’s shirt, and placed the baby down against her bare chest. Holly giggled, then went silent as she stared at the newborn on her chest. Pritchard ran over to her and kissed her head, completing the family picture.
For the moment, both mother and baby were alive. Kamiyo would cut the umbilical cord and check Holly wasn’t hemorrhaging, but that was about all he could do. Nature would decide the rest.
Philip patted Kamiyo on the back. “That was pretty spectacular, Doctor. What should we do now?”
Kamiyo shrugged. “Now we try to make a deal.”
40
HANNAH
The sun
