Two plus one
In my years working at the tiny northern maternity unit in Whitby, Ive helped bring roughly twelve thousand infants into the world. Yet a few cases have lodged themselves in my memory, and the only set of triplets I ever delivered is the most vivid of them all.
It began with a young couple expecting their first child. The father, Tom Harris, had been posted to our town from the Royal Air Force base where he served as an aircraft mechanic on the modest airstrip outside the village. They lived in a cramped singleroom council flat. The mother, Eleanor Clarke, was a spirited, flamingredhaired girl from London, strikingly beautifulcalling her a woman feels almost insufficient.
Toms family originally came from Wales; he was sturdy, calm, and a touch laidback. Back in the bright days of the postwar NHS, such a mix of backgrounds was ordinary. Early on they learned they were carrying twins.
Eleanor planned to travel to London to give birth with her own mother, but the labour started earlyat just thirtytwo weeks. She was rushed into our ward just as my shift began. The main block was closed for a thorough cleaning, so we were operating out of the temporary obstetrics annex.
On duty was Dr. Diana Kroll, a seasoned and compassionate obstetrician. During her visual examination she suspected the babies were malpositioned, a sign that a natural delivery could be extremely hazardous. We agreed on a Caesarean section, and an Xray was taken to confirm the positions.
The radiograph showed exactly what we feared: two babies, one headfirst, the other breech. Confident the situation was predictable, we moved to the operating theatre.
First we delivered a boy, weighing 1kg700g. While I and the scrub nurse tended to him, the team pulled the second boy, 1kg600g, from the womb. As we were finishing, Dr. Kroll called out, Take the third! I had no time for jokesthe two little lads were already fragile.
A sharp cry followed, and there she wasa girl, 1kg400g, swaddled in the same incision. I was stunned. How could a third child have been missed on the scan? It turned out the two boys lay side byside along the length of the uterus, while their sister was positioned transversely beneath them, hidden from view. Their tiny bodies had shielded her from any glimpse.
If Dr. Kroll hadnt insisted on the operation, the trio likely would not have survived. We placed the newborn girl with the boys in the sole incubator we hada special cot for preterms. Miraculously, all three fit.
I stayed by their cribs all night, worried and vigilant. By dawn their conditions had steadied. As the morning bell rang, a handsome officer in his flight jacket burst through the doors.
Who have you delivered? he asked, eyes wide.
Congratulations, I said slowly. Two sons and a daughter.
The news seemed to take a while to sink in. He repeated to himself, a little haltingly, Two sons and a daughter three? I echoed, Yes, three.
He shuffled down the wall, we set him on a chair and offered a glass of water. He was a newcomer to the village, freshly posted, with scant savings and a tiny flat of his own. And nowtriplets.
The babies stayed in our unit for several weeks, gaining weight and strength. I loved dropping by their cot, marveling at the little miracle they represented. Though there were three of them, each was clean, fed, and looked after. Their mother, ever meticulous, wore a constant, radiant smileshe was the picture of youthful beauty and resolve.
The local council quickly arranged a threebedroom flat for the family in the new housing estate, equipped them with everything they needed, and even assigned a community health nurse for the first few months. Yet the real hero was Eleanorher determination lifted her children from the incubator to healthy childhood.
Ten years later I found myself in the lounge of the same hospital. Eleanor, now known as Mrs. Harper, walked in with her grown children. The two darkhaired lads, unmistakably Toms, followed her, and then a brightredhaired girl darted ahead, an exact replica of her mother at that age.
Seeing that happy, thriving family filled me with a warmth that lingered long after they left. I could still feel the faint thump of their tiny hearts echoing in my mind.
