“It will be alright. Don’t worry. The baby will be OK,” I whisper to my husband. He looks frightened. I’m frightened, too. It’s hard to sound convincing when you’re lying in a hospital bed on a maternity ward. When the midwife has hit the emergency button because your unborn baby’s heart rate has dipped dangerously low.
A number of doctors rush into the room. There is talk of an emergency caesarean. Then the numbers on the heart rate monitor creep back up; the baby’s heart rate is returning to normal. Sighs of relief all round, everyone drifts away from the room apart from my husband and the two midwives currently tasked with my care. Emergency over, we will press on with “natural” labour.
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