Free One Tiny Miracle... by Carol Marinelli Page B

real-estate agent had come over to congratulate him, the house apparently his now, but Ben wasn’t listening.
    ‘We need to get her inside,’ he stated.
    ‘Excuse me?’ the agent said.
    ‘Ben…’ She was moaning now, whimpering in terror. ‘I’ve got pain…’
    ‘She needs to be inside.’ Ben was walking her to the entrance at the side of the house, taking her weight. ‘She needs some privacy…’
    ‘You can’t just go in!’
    ‘I just bought the house!’ Ben snapped. ‘She’s about to give birth. Where do you want her to do it—on the street?’ He gave up walking her then and picked her up—and such was his authority that the real-estate agent actually opened the side gate for him. ‘Now, call an ambulance,’ Ben ordered, ‘and tell them it’s a premature baby…’ He had her beneath the willow tree now and she was wriggling out of his arms, already starting to strain. Ben realised with alarm that there was no chance of getting her inside. ‘And say there’s a doctor in attendance.’
    ‘Is there anything I can do?’ The man he had waved to each morning, the man he had just bought a house from, was now there, being practical and helpful. ‘Some towels,’ Ben said as his wife rushed off and he struggled to be calm, to be professional. It was a delivery, he told himself, he was more than capable of dealing with that. Only he could see her terrified eyes…
    ‘I need you to listen to me, Celeste.’ He had pulled down her panties and examined her. The baby wasn’t waiting for the ambulance, it wasn’t waiting for anything…‘This is a small baby, so we’re going to try and slow it down.’ It was important that they did so, as a rapid delivery could cause damage to the fragile brain. ‘You’re not to push,’ he warned Celeste. ‘We want this to happen as slowly and as gently as we can…’
    She had never been more petrified—the thought of her baby coming so soon and here, no hospital, no shinyequipment…Yet she was suddenly desperate to bear down, to push, only Ben was telling her to just breathe through it, to resist this desperate urge—and she knew why. ‘It’s too fast…’
    ‘Your body will have been preparing for this for hours, you just didn’t know.’ He smiled. ‘We just need to slow down this last bit.’
    He was right. All morning she had felt restless—trying to lie in bed, to read, to rest. She’d had a shower and then gone back to bed, then decided to go and look at the auction…
    ‘It’s coming,’ she moaned.
    It was. Nothing was going to slow down her baby’s entrance to the world, and she was so glad Ben was here and terrified that he might not have been.
    ‘What if I’d been at home, what if…?’
    ‘You’d have coped!’ Ben cut short her what-ifs. ‘And you’re coping well now.’
    ‘I’m sorry we’re not talking.’ She panted with the effort of not pushing. ‘I’m sorry to do this to you…’
    ‘I’m glad to be here,’ Ben said, ‘I’ve done this pl—’ He didn’t continue, as he’d just seen that the cord was around the neck, but not tightly, and he slipped it over. Only it wasn’t just that which had halted his words. Yes, he had delivered babies over the years, yes, he had done this plenty of times before.
    Just not like this.
    Not like this, with his heart in his mouth, as he held a tiny head in his hand and guided a pale life into the world.
    Not like this, as he delivered the babe onto Celeste’s stomach, rubbed at its back, flicked at its feet. He knewit would breathe, the doctor in him knew that it had only been a minute, but for Ben it was one very long minute, the babe floppy and cyanosed, its heart rate tipping almost low enough that if it went down further he would have to commence CPR. He could hear Celeste’s pleas and they matched his thoughts, willing the ambulance faster with oxygen for this little one. He turned the baby over, its back now on Celeste’s stomach, and felt his head lighten in relief as