The Baby They Longed For. Marion Lennox

But he’d sat in the lectures and looked at the diagrams of the baby developing in the fallopian tubes and he’d thought...it involved a death. A loss. A grief. No matter what happened to cause the end of a pregnancy, there must still be grief. He’d understood it then, he’d had it enforced later from harsh, brutal experience and now, watching Addie’s face, he knew it even more strongly.

      ‘She was...my daughter,’ she whispered. ‘For such a short time.’

      ‘And she was loved,’ he said gently. ‘And she’ll always be a part of you. But for now...’ The look of strain on her face was almost unbearable. ‘You need to sleep. Do what your body tells you, Addie. The nurse will be coming back. If you need anything more, I’m within calling distance.’

      ‘I... I know,’ she muttered. ‘Oh, Noah... I slapped you.’

      ‘You’re welcome to slap me again if it helps,’ he told her, and smiled. ‘Anything you want, just not as long as it stops you sleeping.’ And then he paused. Someone had knocked on the ward door. A head poked around, Henry, the hospital administrator, his face puckered in concern. Things must be pretty bad to haul him from his golf, Noah thought, but as he surged into the room he remembered the distress on the faces of the theatre staff and he knew that Addie was indeed loved.

      It made him feel better—sort of—but it also made him feel...bleak.

      Why? He wasn’t sure. But Henry was stooping to give Addie a careful kiss and the feeling of bleakness intensified.

      ‘I’ll leave you to Henry,’ he managed. ‘No more than five minutes, though, Henry, and the nurse needs to return before you leave. Addie needs to sleep.’

      ‘She needs to sleep for months,’ Henry said roundly. ‘We’ve been telling her and telling her. Long weekends, that’s all she’ll ever take. Cliff rang me and I was never more shocked. Yes, I know it’s hard to get staff to cover but, Addie, you now have no choice. We’re running you out of town. Dr McPherson’s shown he’s more than capable of dealing with obstetric drama and we’ll put in a call for an emergency locum to cover for you. You’re heading to Sydney or wherever you want, maybe the Gold Coast, maybe further north, the Great Barrier Reef, somewhere you can lie in the sun for a couple of months and let your body recover.’

      ‘A couple of months!’ Addie sounded horrified.

      ‘Absolutely,’ Henry told her. ‘At a quick calculation, you’re due for nine weeks’ leave, plus sick leave. So we’re not taking no for an answer. My family has an apartment overlooking the beach on the Gold Coast if you want, or you could choose an alternative. Just not here. Addie, you could almost learn to play golf in two months. There’s a life skill. But rest is paramount. Isn’t that right, Dr McPherson?’

      ‘You do need to rest,’ Noah concurred.

      ‘There. It’s all settled. No argument. The nurses are out there planning and Morvena’s already contacting locums. For the next few weeks we don’t need you.’

      And then Heidi appeared in the doorway with meds and Henry turned to Heidi and started discussing the pros and cons of Gold Coast versus Great Barrier Reef and it was time for Noah to back away. From her...family?

      ‘Two more minutes and then sleep,’ he said warningly, and got a nod of distracted agreement from Heidi and Henry.

      Addie didn’t need him any more. He was free to go.

      Free.

      That was what he had to get used to.