Amelia put her hands around a very large, very baby-shaped lump in Krishna’s abdomen. “Krishna,” she said calmly, interrupting the tears and prayers of the couple.
Himesh broke off whatever he was saying and stared at Amelia in dismay. “What is it?”
“Krishna,” Amelia started again. “Does anyone in your family have twins?”
“My mother had twins before I was born, but they came too early.” Krishna’s eyes widened as soon as the words came out of her mouth. “Do I...is it...” She gulped. “Doctor Amelia?—”
“I believe,” Amelia cut in smoothly, “that we’re not yet done for the night.” She nestled back down between Krishna’s still drawn legs and eased her hand upward.
Ellen tried not to grimace as Krishna flinched and held back a screech at the invasion.
“Well,” Amelia said brightly, elbow-deep in Krishna, “I believe we now know why you went into premature labor!”
Ellen hated twins. No, that wasn’t true. She loved the idea oftwins. But twins came with so many more risks, and Krishna was experiencing one of them now.
A contraction racked through Krishna, causing her to groan.
“Himesh, it looks like we’ll need your help after all.” Ellen swooped in and plucked the baby boy from Krishna’s arms. Single handed, she took Amelia’s scissors and cut the umbilical cord, now empty of the lifeblood Krishna had shared with her son. On her knees, Ellen turned to face Himesh. “Take your shirt off.”
He did, without question.
Ellen gestured for him to get into a comfortable sitting position, then laid the whimpering baby on his hairy chest. The baby blinked, dark eyes wide, and he wrinkled his face at the touch of his father’s chest hair against his cheek. “Here we are, sweet one,” Ellen crooned. She looked up at Himesh. “I’d normally wait to talk to both of you, but Krishna is still busy.”
Himesh’s deep brown eyes strayed from Ellen to glance with consternation at his wife, moaning on the floor.
“Doctor Amelia is excellent at her job,” Ellen told him, drawing his attention back to her. “Right now, the best thing you can do for Krishna is to take care of your son. He needs your help.”
Himesh bit his lip, nodding.
“Listen closely. For the next week, this baby does not come off your chest. The only reason he will leave your chest is for a nappy change and to suckle milk. Any other time, he should be on your chest.” Ellen reached down to find swaddling cloths, already used and covered in milk stains from their last baby, and tucked the ends around him. “What name had you chosen for a boy?”
Himesh blinked. “Um, Pradip, after my father.”
“That’s a beautiful name.” Ellen placed her hands over Himesh’s, showing him how to keep the cloths tight around the baby’s back. “Babies born this early have a chance. But I won’t lie, it’s a slim chance.”
Himesh stared up at her, anguish in his eyes.
“You have a chance,” Ellen repeated gently. “If you doeverything I say, there is a chance. Babies born this early have three hurdles to overcome: body heat, breathing, and swallowing.”
Himesh nodded at each of her words. “If...if he’d been born any earlier...our slim chance would be…” he trailed off.
Ellen stared at him solemnly. There was no need to complete his sentence. They both knew a baby born two months early faced enough challenges, and one born even earlier would not survive. “I can’t promise anything,” she said gently. “But we can try.”
He took a deep breath and nodded again. “I understand. So what do I do?”
“Like I said, that baby does not come off your chest for a week. These first days are the most crucial. He is too small to generate his own body heat.” Truthfully, Ellen was amazed at how large the baby was for being so premature.At least we have that going for us.“You must keep him warm. On your bare skin is best, and you should keep a stock of hot water bottles to use also.
“His next struggle is breathing.” Ellen distilled what she’d learned in midwifery and obstetrician lectures, keeping it to the barest of essentials. “His lungs weren’t ready for him to be born. Lungs are one of the last things that develop for babies. So we need to make it as easy for him to breathe as possible. This means keeping him upright. Clearing his nose and throat with a suction bulb—I’ll give you one before I leave—turning him upside down and thumping his chest like I did earlier.
“And feeding. This will be the hardest because of his little mouth. He probably won’t be able to get it around Krishna’s nipples.” Ellen had long lost her modesty in discussing these things, and Himesh was so intent upon saving both his wife and son he didn’t seem to care, either. “Now, I will leave a glass dropper for you to help feed him. This baby needs all the milk he can get. If Krishna’s milk hasn’t come in by tomorrow, let me know and we’ll find another mother willing to donate some milk or perhaps even goatmilk.”
Himesh blinked at her, obviously trying yet struggling to comprehend and remember everything she said.
Ellen put a hand on his arm. “I’ll be back tomorrow. So will Doctor Amelia. You won’t be alone.”
He gave a shaky sigh. “What about our girls?”
“They need to stay away as long as possible.” Ellen paused. “Do you know what childbed fever is?”