Sydney Harbour Hospital: Zoe's Baby

CHAPTER TWO

‘OH …no!’

The baby’s face puckered in dismay at the tone of Zoe’s voice. Hastily, she picked her up and held her, patting the tiny back. ‘It’s OK, Emma. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.’ She alternated the pats with some soothing circles. ‘Come on, we’ll find a clean suit for you and we can still be on time for our appointments.’

It took no time at all to find what she needed in Emma’s room. Stretchy suits and singlets were folded and sorted according to size and colour in the dresser drawers. The change table was clean to the point of sterility with the wipes, creams and disposable nappies neatly encased in the plastic partitions of the slide-out drawer.

‘No more spit-ups,’ Zoe commanded, snapping the fasteners on the clean, pink suit.

Emma waved chubby fists and grinned up at her mother. Zoe sighed but stretched out to smooth back wisps of golden hair from the baby’s forehead. ‘At least you look like someone really loves you.’

Zoe loved her. She did. The only problem was that the realisation was in her head and not in her heart. She knew she loved her daughter. She just couldn’t feel it.

There was no time to change her own shirt. Zoe dabbed at the milky stain with a wet cloth and then abandoned the attempt. Emma had an appointment at the paediatric clinic for a routine check-up. Zoe had an appointment with her psychologist, John Allen, which was hopefully also routine but being late for either appointment was not an option. She had to convince everybody that things were going brilliantly on the home front otherwise John might change his mind about it being a good idea for her to be back at work part time.

And it might have been only a few days since she’d started work again but Zoe already knew that it was the way forward for both herself and Emma. She wouldn’t survive being a full-time mother on her own. Not now, when she’d been reminded of the person she’d once been. Not while the memories were still so fresh of how hard it had been in the mothering unit when she’d had support available 24/7.

With the confidence that stepping back into her old life for limited periods was providing, she was getting stronger. She could leave her failures behind her when she was on the road and, when she was at home, she could go through the motions of being a perfect mother and only she knew that she was counting the hours until she could be away from her child again.

Besides, she wanted to be a mother that someone could be proud of. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

Emma’s car seat had a handle with several brightly coloured toys attached by elastic cords. When the soft toys were tugged they made noises. The yellow duck quacked and the lime-green frog croaked. The cow bell was proving popular this morning and it jingled at regular intervals as Zoe drove towards Sydney Harbour Hospital. The noise could have become irritating but Zoe had other things to worry about.

Pulling up at a set of traffic lights, she checked the nappy bag on the passenger seat beside her. Had she remembered the bottle of formula? After spitting up half her breakfast, Emma could well be hungry again by the time they got to the paediatric clinic’s waiting room. The last thing Zoe needed was having to try and cope with a fractious baby under the watchful gaze of all the other mothers who would be there.

Mothers who would probably all be like that dreadful support group John had talked her into going to on one occasion. Women who adored their babies and knew what they were doing. Women who never ever felt an inkling of the panic and despair that Zoe had lived with every day since Emma’s birth five months ago.

Before that, even. Well before that. Right back in the earliest stages of this whole nightmare when she had agonised over whether even to continue with the pregnancy or not. And when it had all become too much and James had simply walked away. Not that she could blame him. They’d been doing no more than dating casually when she’d become pregnant and while they’d tried to make a go of a relationship, there had been no way James was cut out to deal with the emotional wreck Zoe had morphed into.

Just like her mother.

Oh … rubbish. Zoe parked the car and made a determined effort to park that train of thought at the same time. If she didn’t she might blurt something out in her session with John and that would be worse than having Emma screaming inconsolably in the waiting room. She wasn’t going to discuss her mother with anyone. She wasn’t even going to allow herself to think about her.

The waiting area was packed to the gills this morning. The place was cluttered with prams and strollers, toddlers fighting over the rather sad collection of toys available and babies crying. One distressed infant was pacified quickly by the offer of a breastfeed and Teo smiled at the mother.

Another baby was crying more loudly. Teo took a glance over his shoulder before he disappeared into the examination room.

And then he paused with his hand halfway to pushing the door open and took another look.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

Zoe Harper was in the waiting area and it was her baby who was distressed. Zoe was pacing back and forth, with the infant upright in her arms, tucked against her shoulder. Her head was bent, almost as if she was shielding the baby from view but Teo could see the way Zoe was scanning the area in an oddly furtive manner. She seemed embarrassed that her baby was crying but why? That’s what babies did. It was part of their job description.

Maybe Zoe wasn’t, in fact, the mother.

Teo dismissed the thought as he entered the examination room. Either the woman he’d seen in total command of a major incident the other day had an identical twin or Zoe had been left in charge of someone else’s baby. Her sister, or a friend perhaps, who’d ducked off to go to the loo. That would explain the total lack of confidence he had sensed.

It took only a minute or two to confirm that his registrar had, indeed, picked up an abnormal murmur in a toddler’s heart sounds. It took several more to reassure the parents that it wasn’t necessarily anything to panic about but then Teo was able to leave the room, confident that his registrar could arrange the urgent tests needed so they would know exactly what they were dealing with. He knew he’d been a little abrupt compared to the time he would normally have spent on a consult like this but he would see the parents again as soon as the results came in.

And he had the strongest desire to check the waiting room again on his way back up to the ward.

This was Zoe’s worst nightmare.

The clinic appointments were running late, the area was getting more and more crowded and she just couldn’t stop Emma crying. It felt like it had been going on for hours now and the looks she was getting from other mothers had gone from sympathetic to pitying to frankly annoyed. Emma’s shrieks had changed as well and the wails were now interspersed with that hiccupping sort of sound that advertised pure misery.

She’d changed her nappy, cuddled her, walked her up and down and now she was trying to feed her with the bottle of formula she’d mixed before leaving. Emma was having none of it. Her tiny hands were shoving at the bottle containing milk that had a totally unacceptable lack of warmth and small legs were kicking in outrage. Zoe could feel herself being watched. She could feel her face flushing and her shoulders hunching.

‘Please, Emma,’ she whispered. ‘Please have a drink.’

Her baby’s face took on a deeper crimson hue as Emma went rigid in her arms, arching her little back to produce the loudest crying Zoe had ever heard. What was wrong with her? What was she doing that was so wrong? Despair was enveloping her now and, to her horror, Zoe felt tears slipping down her own cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut as she sensed someone approaching. A staff member, probably, coming to take her child away and give it to someone who could be a better mother.

The touch of a hand on her shoulder was so unexpected that Zoe’s eyes snapped open. And then she blinked. Crouched in front of her, so that he was on the same eye level, was Teo Tuala. He wasn’t looking at her as if she was some kind of a monster mother either. He was smiling.

‘Someone’s not happy,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can help?’

Zoe had noticed what a big man Teo was but having him hunched in front of her like this made him seem like a huge, solid rock of a man. And he had the most extraordinarily dark brown eyes. Eyes that reflected his smile but with a depth that told her he understood that it wasn’t just the baby that was so unhappy.

And he wanted to help. Zoe’s brain provided a snapshot of the day she’d met Teo. When he had been standing in the middle of a chaotic accident scene holding a stranger’s baby and looking as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. As if there was nothing about babies he couldn’t cope with. Enjoy, even.

Something else came with that flash of memory. An instinctive sureness that she could trust him. And he was a paediatrician. Something had to be wrong with Emma for her to be crying like this. Without giving herself any time to think of the possible consequences, Zoe pushed her baby towards him. She didn’t say a word. She couldn’t. If she opened her mouth she would probably start sobbing as hard as her tiny daughter was.

Teo didn’t even blink. He took Emma and made her look as tiny as a newborn in his big arms. He got to his feet and peered down at the baby as he rocked her.

‘What’s the story, little one?’ he asked casually. ‘It’s not so bad around here, really.’

Emma hiccupped, staring up at this new person. And then, miraculously, she stopped howling.

Zoe could hear the sigh of relief coming from more than one of the other mothers around her.

And she had never felt more of a failure. She’d been doing her very best here for so long and it had taken less than thirty seconds for someone else to soothe her baby. A man.

She couldn’t look at Teo. She stared down at the bottle of unwanted milk in her hands, her vision blurred by tears.

‘Hey …’

Teo was still smiling, she could hear it in his voice. It was a gentle, soothing word that meant nothing but managed to contain an entire message. A ‘here we are and it’s not really all that bad, is it?’ kind of message.

Emma was probably smiling back at him by now.

‘Zoe?’

Looking up, Zoe knew instantly that the ‘Hey’ had been directed at her and not Emma. But she couldn’t respond. He might think things weren’t so bad because Emma had stopped crying but, for her, things were even worse.

And he knew that. Holding Emma securely with one arm, he reached down and picked up the handle of the car seat. ‘Come with us,’ he invited softly. ‘You can bring the bag.’

Zoe still felt she could explode with the emotion she was trying to contain but she had no choice. She had to follow because ‘us’ was this paediatrician and her baby. And everybody, absolutely everybody in this waiting room, was watching. All the mothers, a sprinkling of fathers, the receptionists and nursing staff behind the desk. Even the older children present were all staring.

But not at her, Zoe realised. They were all watching Teo and the majority of watchers had smiles on their faces.

Because Emma was finally quiet?

Because the sight of such a masculine figure holding a small baby was guaranteed to tug at heartstrings?

Or did it have something to do with the fact that this particular masculine figure was so good looking? It was more than the combination of even features and glossy black hair. There was something about the way Teo handled his size. The grace that came from not only confidence but a relaxed way of looking at life. And it was about the way he smiled so easily and the way he could see solutions rather than problems.

Zoe wasn’t the only person following Teo. A little boy had abandoned the toy he’d been playing with and was trotting purposefully in the wake of the big man. His mother had to jump up and catch him before they reached the door.

Teo led her out of the waiting room and along a corridor. Then he opened the door of a room marked ‘Private’. There were comfortable chairs in here, a change table, a big basket of toys and a tiny kitchenette. The coffee table had a large box of tissues on it.

‘This is a room reserved for families who need a bit of time out or a special consultation,’ Teo told her. ‘It was a bit crowded out there, wasn’t it?’

Zoe’s nod was jerky. Her tears had stopped for the moment but she heard herself sniff. She pulled a few tissues from the box, blew her nose and then dabbed at her eyes, hoping Teo wouldn’t notice.

He didn’t appear to. He was looking down at Emma. ‘So who’s this little sweetheart?’ he asked.

‘Her name’s Emma.’

‘She’s, what, about six months old?’

‘Nearly.’

‘And … she’s yours?’

‘Yes.’ Zoe had noticed the hesitation and it made her feel ashamed. Was the lack of a normal mother-child bond so obvious?

Emma chose that moment to start grizzling, too, as if the confirmation that Zoe was her mother was disturbing. Zoe stared down at the bottle of milk she was still carrying.

‘You could heat that up a bit,’ Teo suggested. ‘There’s a microwave over there beside the coffee-making stuff.’

‘We can’t stay.’

‘Why not?’

‘Emma’s got an appointment at the clinic. We’ve been waiting for ages so it must be nearly her turn.’

‘That’s not a problem. I can make sure she gets seen. Is there something you’re worried about?’

‘No. It’s just a routine check-up.’

‘So it’s not urgent.’

‘Well, no … except …’

‘Except what?’ Teo prompted.

‘I … um … I’ve got an appointment myself. At 10.30.’

‘Obstetric?’

‘No.’ Zoe didn’t want to tell him. She could feel the flush of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. It was one of the worst things about being a redhead, the way blushes came so quickly.

‘Sit down, just for a minute,’ Teo said. ‘Please. You won’t be late. This clinic goes on for hours and you can always bring her back after you’ve been … wherever it is you need to go.’

He could see a solution for everything. And it didn’t matter if she didn’t want to tell him anything. In the short silence that followed, Teo sat down in one of the chairs. Emma was quiet again. She looked as if she’d fallen asleep in his arms, too exhausted by her misery to remember she was hungry. Zoe sank down onto the edge of another armchair, feeling defeated. There was no point in denying she had a problem. Teo had seen it for himself. He had been prepared to help her in what had been her worst moment for a very long time. He deserved some honesty.

‘I have an appointment with John Allen,’ she admitted. ‘He’s a—’

‘Clinical psychologist,’ Teo nodded. ‘I know John well. He’s a good friend. He and his wife Susie live in the apartment next to mine.’

Oh … help. Zoe took in a shaky gulp of air. ‘I’d rather he didn’t know about what you saw in the waiting room.’

Teo looked curious. ‘What did I see?’

‘Someone who was being a miserable failure trying to look after her baby,’ Zoe muttered.

Teo shook his head. ‘I saw a mother doing her best in difficult circumstances. Babies are very good at picking up vibes. What I didn’t see was anyone offering you any kind of assistance and I have to say that was disappointing. This is my department and I’m going to have something to say about that at the next staff meeting. You know what?’

‘No …’ Zoe’s response was cautious. She couldn’t believe he was being so non-judgmental. Giving her credit, even, for the meltdown he’d rescued them from.

‘I think I’ll send out a memo. I can do that, cos I’m head of department here. Someone might even read it and take some notice.’ Teo’s smile was fading and his tone became a lot more serious. ‘I saw something else, too,’ he added.

Oh, no … he was the head of the paediatric department? If he did say something to his friend John, her psychologist would certainly take some notice. Zoe gnawed on her bottom lip, hoping she didn’t look as anxious as she was now feeling. What else had he noticed?

‘I saw someone who lacked confidence in what she was doing,’ Teo said gently. ‘And while there’s nothing unusual in that when it comes to first-time mothers, in your case it astonished me.’

Zoe wished the floor would just open up and swallow her. This was unbearable.

‘You want to know why?’

Not really, Zoe wanted to say. She didn’t want to hear about just how inept she had looked.

Teo took her silence for assent. ‘Because I saw you for the first time only a few days ago and you know what?’

‘No …’ Zoe almost smiled. She could play this conversational game, especially if he was going to say something nice after getting her to admit her ignorance about what he was going to say.

‘I thought you were Superwoman.’

Zoe blinked. ‘What?’

‘Superwoman,’ Teo repeated. ‘There you were, directing that accident scene, hurling yourself into a mangled wreck of a car, showing off some not inconsiderable skills in getting that woman’s airway and breathing sorted, and then you jumped into a helicopter and took off. All in all, it was a breathtaking performance. You should be proud of yourself.’

It was more than a nice thing to say. Zoe could feel an unfamiliar glow happening inside. She was feeling proud of herself. For the first time in so long. She ducked her head, embarrassed by the sincere praise. Or maybe it was the frank admiration she could see in those dark eyes that was so disconcerting.

‘You made it look easy,’ Teo continued. ‘Just another day at work.’

‘It was. Kind of …’

‘Kind of?’

‘It was my first day back since … oh, since I was about six months pregnant and I was beginning to think I’d never be allowed to go back.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because … um … I got postnatal depression after Emma was born.’ There. She’d said it. She risked a quick glance at his face. The admiration would be gone, for sure. Probably replaced with that wary look people got at the mere whiff of mental illness.

But Teo’s face hadn’t changed. ‘Badly?’

Zoe stared down at her hands. ‘Yeah … I got hospitalised and given some pretty heavy-duty drugs. And then I went into a mothering unit for a while. I’m back home now but … it’s still hard.’

‘Of course it is. Being a mother is hard enough without the extra challenge of PND.’

Zoe just nodded, glancing at her watch. If she left now, she could still make her appointment with John in time, but she didn’t want to leave Teo with this negative image of her. It would be far better if he continued thinking of her as Superwoman.

‘When I’m at work,’ she confided shyly, ‘I’m me. The me I used to be. The me I recognise. It’s when I’m at home that it’s different and it’s in places like this when I know the other mothers are watching me and judging me that it’s the hardest of all.’

She looked up at smiled. ‘Thank you for helping,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t think you know how much it means.’

‘It was a pleasure, Zoe. I’m sure you’ve got a ton of friends supporting you but if you ever need an extra, I’ll be here.’

‘Thanks.’ Zoe wasn’t about to tell him that all her friends were in the ambulance service, mostly younger than her, and being in the company of a baby was only marginally less attractive than being in the company of a depressed woman. Let him think she was popular and well supported—in between her stints as Superwoman.

The fantasy was so far from the truth it was amusing enough to bring a genuine smile to her face as she took Emma and tucked her back into her car seat. Emma, bless her, didn’t wake up. Then she shoved the things threatening to spill from the pockets of the nappy bag back into place and she was ready to go.

‘Can you manage all that?’ Teo asked. ‘I could wander up with you, if you like.’

‘No, thanks.’ The last thing Zoe wanted was for John to realise she had a connection to someone he knew on a personal basis. Professional confidentiality was all very well but it didn’t apply between doctors, did it? ‘I can manage.’

‘Of course you can.’ Teo smiled again as he held the door open for her. ‘What I will do is have a word with the receptionist. They’ll slot you in for Emma’s appointment as soon as you get back from seeing John.’