Read Online CLONER : a Sci-Fi Novel about Human Cloning (A Captivating Story about Reproduction Outside the Womb and Identical Humans) by Emma Lorant - Free Book Online
Authors: Emma Lorant
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confinement. Terror clutched at Lisa. The only way she could stay at home was to be quick about it, get it over with before their precious ambulance arrived. She gathered her strength together and began to push, bear down, and try to force the foetus in her birth canal to earlier delivery.
It seemed to work. No sooner had she started than her uterine muscles began to expel in earnest. She felt certain that the head must be almost about to be born.
‘How d’ye do.’
Lisa, immersed in what she was doing, looked up to see a man standing beside the midwife in the room.
‘One of Susan’s,’ the midwife trumpeted. ‘She went gallivanting off on holiday last night, so we’ll have to do the best we can without her!’ The voice suddenly dropped. ‘...Waters...deep yellow...could be...’
The doctor’s head, Lisa saw, was bent towards Rita. Surprised eyes were still on Lisa, and he parted his lips in a smile. ‘Roger Gilmore’s away till the week after next,’ he said gently to her. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Wildmore. You’re just going to have to put up with a pair of strangers, I’m afraid. I ought to just examine you.’
Examine, Lisa thought acidly, was rather a grand word. He moved her nightdress up and looked at her.
‘I won’t do an internal,’ he told her, stepping back almost instantly, ‘in case I precipitate things. But I’m not entirely satisfied. You’re rather early.’ The doctor paced gravely up and down the room.
‘Only two weeks,’ Lisa gritted through clenched teeth.
‘I really think you’ll be better off in hospital. They’ve got all mod cons in case we run up against a problem.’
A problem? What reason had he to think things might go wrong? Could he just tell by looking at her, or was there something in the notes? Why couldn’t he say exactly what he thought?
‘I’d much rather go ahead with a home birth,’ Lisa breathed through contractions. ‘That’s what I agreed with Dr Gilmore. I’ve got everything ready – ’
‘Prems often need expert attention,’ the doctor said.
‘It’s only two weeks – ’
‘There are some indications of foetal distress.’
Foetal distress. Is that what she’d been experiencing? A foetus desperately trying to fight his way out of her body? All Lisa’s instincts told her Witherton had got it wrong. The baby would be safer here than in some aseptic hospital. They’d pounce on any little defect there, insist on interfering. She wanted to be in charge, to be the judge of what to do for her own offspring.
‘I can’t take responsibility for his being born at home. I really do advise you to go to hospital. The flying squad is excellent, you know.’
‘I’ll take the risk,’ Lisa said curtly. ‘The contractions are coming very close together now.’
‘Foetal distress? I thought you wanted this baby?’ Alec had come into the room and right up to her, his flushed face near to hers.
‘The baby could be starved of oxygen. And if he dies it’s tantamount to murder,’ the doctor intoned in sepulchral tones, addressing Alec. ‘Do you want that on your conscience?’
‘We’d better do as he suggests, pet,’ Alec encouraged her. ‘I honestly think that that would be the best solution.’
‘It’s my body. I don’t want to go to hospital!’ Lisa cried out, clasping the sheets to her. She couldn’t think, she could only feel a terror at the thought of medical intervention.
‘He’s my son, too, Lisa. You heard what Dr Witherton said. He’s in distress. His brain might be deprived of oxygen...’
The contractions were powerful now, strong and painful. Even if she’d wanted to argue further, she hadn’t the energy.
Dr Witherton picked up his mobile. ‘You’ll be in excellent hands. They’re very well rigged out, you know. They’ll be able to cope if the baby needs special care.’
Wearily she realised there was nothing further she could do. Apart from pray, of course. Her hands around her swollen belly, Lisa caressed
It seemed to work. No sooner had she started than her uterine muscles began to expel in earnest. She felt certain that the head must be almost about to be born.
‘How d’ye do.’
Lisa, immersed in what she was doing, looked up to see a man standing beside the midwife in the room.
‘One of Susan’s,’ the midwife trumpeted. ‘She went gallivanting off on holiday last night, so we’ll have to do the best we can without her!’ The voice suddenly dropped. ‘...Waters...deep yellow...could be...’
The doctor’s head, Lisa saw, was bent towards Rita. Surprised eyes were still on Lisa, and he parted his lips in a smile. ‘Roger Gilmore’s away till the week after next,’ he said gently to her. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Wildmore. You’re just going to have to put up with a pair of strangers, I’m afraid. I ought to just examine you.’
Examine, Lisa thought acidly, was rather a grand word. He moved her nightdress up and looked at her.
‘I won’t do an internal,’ he told her, stepping back almost instantly, ‘in case I precipitate things. But I’m not entirely satisfied. You’re rather early.’ The doctor paced gravely up and down the room.
‘Only two weeks,’ Lisa gritted through clenched teeth.
‘I really think you’ll be better off in hospital. They’ve got all mod cons in case we run up against a problem.’
A problem? What reason had he to think things might go wrong? Could he just tell by looking at her, or was there something in the notes? Why couldn’t he say exactly what he thought?
‘I’d much rather go ahead with a home birth,’ Lisa breathed through contractions. ‘That’s what I agreed with Dr Gilmore. I’ve got everything ready – ’
‘Prems often need expert attention,’ the doctor said.
‘It’s only two weeks – ’
‘There are some indications of foetal distress.’
Foetal distress. Is that what she’d been experiencing? A foetus desperately trying to fight his way out of her body? All Lisa’s instincts told her Witherton had got it wrong. The baby would be safer here than in some aseptic hospital. They’d pounce on any little defect there, insist on interfering. She wanted to be in charge, to be the judge of what to do for her own offspring.
‘I can’t take responsibility for his being born at home. I really do advise you to go to hospital. The flying squad is excellent, you know.’
‘I’ll take the risk,’ Lisa said curtly. ‘The contractions are coming very close together now.’
‘Foetal distress? I thought you wanted this baby?’ Alec had come into the room and right up to her, his flushed face near to hers.
‘The baby could be starved of oxygen. And if he dies it’s tantamount to murder,’ the doctor intoned in sepulchral tones, addressing Alec. ‘Do you want that on your conscience?’
‘We’d better do as he suggests, pet,’ Alec encouraged her. ‘I honestly think that that would be the best solution.’
‘It’s my body. I don’t want to go to hospital!’ Lisa cried out, clasping the sheets to her. She couldn’t think, she could only feel a terror at the thought of medical intervention.
‘He’s my son, too, Lisa. You heard what Dr Witherton said. He’s in distress. His brain might be deprived of oxygen...’
The contractions were powerful now, strong and painful. Even if she’d wanted to argue further, she hadn’t the energy.
Dr Witherton picked up his mobile. ‘You’ll be in excellent hands. They’re very well rigged out, you know. They’ll be able to cope if the baby needs special care.’
Wearily she realised there was nothing further she could do. Apart from pray, of course. Her hands around her swollen belly, Lisa caressed
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