Birth in Suburbia by Carol Falaki (top 50 books to read .txt) đź“•
Excerpt from the book:
A fictional account of modern childbirth and a romantic novel rolled into one.
Birth in Suburbia follows the experiences of three heavily pregnant women, Debbie, Helen and Liz, taking the reader through the final weeks of their pregnancies.
It is filled with information about pregnancy and labour with strategically placed helpful tidbits of information throughout the story, although the story drives the novel so that it doesn’t feel like a data-laden textbook on pregnancy.
The story slowly builds and culminates with all three women going into labour within a 48 hour period, tied together by the midwifery student Gemma traveling to each birth and learning new things along the way. Each pregnancy and labour is very different and described in detail: a caesarean section in a hospital bed, a natural home birth on a futon, and an uncomplicated hospital delivery in an alternative position.
Expectant mothers may find plenty of information on what to expect in childbirth by reading this novel, while feeling entertained rather than slogging through a more straight-forward nonfiction text.
Birth in Suburbia follows the experiences of three heavily pregnant women, Debbie, Helen and Liz, taking the reader through the final weeks of their pregnancies.
It is filled with information about pregnancy and labour with strategically placed helpful tidbits of information throughout the story, although the story drives the novel so that it doesn’t feel like a data-laden textbook on pregnancy.
The story slowly builds and culminates with all three women going into labour within a 48 hour period, tied together by the midwifery student Gemma traveling to each birth and learning new things along the way. Each pregnancy and labour is very different and described in detail: a caesarean section in a hospital bed, a natural home birth on a futon, and an uncomplicated hospital delivery in an alternative position.
Expectant mothers may find plenty of information on what to expect in childbirth by reading this novel, while feeling entertained rather than slogging through a more straight-forward nonfiction text.
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it.”
Debbie nodded and chewed her bottom lip. It was still a secret, but she would know the answer soon enough.
Liz noticed Debbie’s heavy eyes, which she interpreted as pregnancy related. She wanted to make Debbie feel better, not worse. “You could have an epidural; that’s up to you,” she said. Then for fear of sounding patronising, which she hated, said: “But that was not what I wanted. It’s an incredible experience. I’m so happy I’ve done it,” while thinking, "I’m even happier it’s over."
Maggie came in with the tea and biscuits. “Have you had any backache, Debbie? Any signs that you’re ready to go into labour?”
“Not really. The head has been engaged for three weeks now and apart from the occasional bit of low backache, which is muscular, I think, there’s been no sign at all. Perhaps I’m going to go over like Helen.”
“How is she by the way? I spoke to Nigel about an hour ago. It sounds like she had a hard time, poor thing. Although he said they are both well.”
“Nine pounds, mum, no wonder,” Liz said.
“It’s not always the size of the baby that makes the difference Liz.”
“Do you have any advice for me, Maggie, before I go in?” Debbie asked her.
“Yes. Ask why, to things you don’t understand. Say
no, if you don’t agree to something, or you don’t feel it is right for you at that moment, and remember to keep an open mind. There are those who are not so good at accepting that you and you alone, are the one with the knowledge of how you feel at any given moment in time, and there are those who know this but forget it sometimes. Sometimes you need to tell people how you feel, because otherwise they'll never guess it.”
Debbie was not so sure what Maggie meant, and she thought of Sean, he used to know how she felt. He used to be good at understanding her
“I can see by your expression that I’ve not made myself clear,” Maggie went on. “If they want to break your waters, for example, and there is no real reason for it that you can tell, ask why, and ask what will be likely to happen if they do it? Then decide if you will allow them to. Don’t be afraid to say what you want.”
Debbie nodded and drank her tea. She looked at Liz, Liz who had her baby, and her mum; and thought of Helen, she too had her baby and her mum.
Then a thought struck Debbie like a lightning bolt, ridiculously, like it was something she had not been aware of until this moment. She was going to be a mum, and that thought shone, like a candle through the swelling miasma surrounding her. Debbie felt her courage rise. “I’m going to be a mum,” she said out loud.
“God help you,” Harry said from behind his newspaper and they laughed, because he didn’t know, and they did.
Chrissy was home. Her car was parked outside her house. Debbie took a deep breath and rang the doorbell for the second time that day.
Chrissy looked the same as usual; no guilty look. She appeared no different from the usual Chrissy. She looked surprised and delighted to see Debbie and gave her a hug. Debbie did not know what to think.
“Debbie, I wasn’t expecting you. Have you heard about Helen, and Liz, have you seen them? I haven’t had a chance yet, been so busy.”
Debbie followed Chrissy into the kitchen. “I’ve seen them both this afternoon; they are good, and both babies are lovely.
“I’ll go tomorrow, what do they look like?” So Debbie described everything she had seen on her visits that she thought Chrissy would want to know, all the while thinking, How can I approach this and not make her think I don’t trust her? She would ask about last night, the school summer show and see where that took them.
“Michael came back here, for coffee," said Chrissy. "I think we did fine, Debbie. I found him so easy to talk to; only he had called and asked if Jonathan could sleep over. Natalie was delighted, of course, and Jonathan is still here. Michael telephoned this morning and asked if I would watch him until later on today, he has had to go to London, for work. There is a big story breaking and he has been working on it. Sean …”
“Mummy, Mummy, Jonathan has gone all funny, and he fell over,” Natalie screamed into the room and both women were out of their seats in moments.
Chrissy ran up the stairs, and Debbie followed
“No, Mummy, no,” Natalie cried.
“Where is he Natalie?” Debbie asked.
"He’s in there.” Natalie pointed to the dining room.
Debbie reached him first and what she saw when she entered that room was to stay with her for the rest of her life. Jonathan was on his back, his face grey, arms by his side limp and lifeless.
“What were you doing? Natalie, what were you two doing?” Natalie was sobbing and Debbie bent down to her level and took her by the arms.
“It’s not your fault, Natalie but I need you to tell me what you were doing,” and then Debbie saw the paper bag on the floor. Inside it were pear drops. Without another thought she picked Jonathan up and put one hand on his stomach, below his ribs. She turned him over and leaning the full weight of his body forward, so he was almost upside down, she slapped his back hard and the boiled sweet flew out of his mouth and landed on the floor.
Jonathan gasped just as Chrissy came into the room.
“I’ve been through the bedrooms,” she stopped. “Christ,” she said, “is he breathing?”
Debbie knelt on the floor and was holding him in her arms and rocking him. She nodded. Chrissy
checked his pulse. To their relief Jonathan’s colour began to return. Chrissy turned to Natalie, who was sobbing in the corner of the room.
“Come here darling,” Chrissy said to her. “He is going to be all right,” and they sat on the floor next to Debbie so that when Jonathan opened his eyes he could see they were with him.
Chrissy telephoned Michael, but it was an answering service, so she decided not to leave any detail, just asked him to call her back.
They took Jonathan to the out-of-hours doctor to be checked over and bought ice-cream on the way home.
Michael telephoned and was on his way over. Debbie decided not to wait. Sean would be waiting for her.
“I went to a nice place. A lady sent me back.” Jonathan told Debbie. He was standing with Chrissie at her front door. Debbie bent to kiss his forehead.
“I think the lady was you, or my mummy,” he said.
“Yes, darling,” Debbie said, but thought no more of it.
It was later than she had planned. Sean was home. He greeted her at the door. “I was beginning to wonder if I should call the hospital,” he said. There was something different about him. He wasn’t cross with her, in fact he was smiling. He kissed her cheek.
“I have been to the hospital, but not for that reason,
with Jonathan. Do you remember the little boy at the barbecue?”
“Of course I do, Michael’s lad, Jonathan. What about him?” It struck Sean that that Debbie had mentioned going to the hospital, and he stopped in his tracks, halfway along the hall. He appeared unduly concerned, Debbie thought, considering he hardly knew them.
“What happened? Is he okay?”
They went into the in the kitchen and Debbie was gently reminded of Scooter, by the nudge of his head against her leg. He was looking better, and got out of his basket to greet her.
“How’s Scooter been?”
“He’s been fine. I think he’s going to be with us for a while longer. Like the proverbial creaking gate.” He bent to stroke Scooter’s head. “I hope so, Scooter, old fella,” Scooter in turn gazed at him with doleful eyes and gave his tail a lazy wag.
“Now tell me about Jonathan, and then let’s go out for something to eat.”
Debbie was tired, but eating out meant no cooking and no washing up, so she was glad of it. Sean was smiling, again, and seeing him more like his old self produced in Debbie a kind of wary expectancy. She hoped this was a sign that they could go back to their old familiar ways, but expected disappointment.
She told him what had happened at Chrissie’s then went to change quickly. What to wear
was not really a problem; there was little choice, nothing fitted any more. Sean brought the car round and they drove.
“Where are you taking us?” she asked. They were driving out of town.
“It’s a surprise, you’ll have to wait and see.”
Debbie settled into her seat and Sean put some music on. Eric Clapton, Tears in Heaven. Debbie felt herself relax. The song also saddened her, reminding her of her mum. She thought about her mum a lot lately. She closed her eyes and dreamed briefly. She was running in a field. The grass was tall and someone was waiting for her but the sun was in her eyes; all she could make out was a silhouette.
Moondance - now Sean was playing Van Morrison. It was their song. Debbie felt the car slow and turn. When she opened her eyes they were driving through trees, in a place she recognised. Thornton Lodge, the hotel where they were married.
“I would have booked us in for the night,” Sean apologised, “but I thought we’d be worrying about your waters going, the hotel bed and all, and I wasn’t sure if you would be comfortable, so it’s just a meal I’m afraid.”
“Sean, it’s a lovely surprise, and you did the right thing. I wouldn’t have been comfortable in a hotel room tonight.”
He helped her out of the car. They walked into the hotel holding hands and Debbie began to wonder if she was still dreaming.
“I have some explaining to do, Debbie,” Sean announced after they had ordered their meal. He took a sip of wine. Debbie took a breath in and held it. “There has been something going on with work. It’s a serious business
Debbie nodded and chewed her bottom lip. It was still a secret, but she would know the answer soon enough.
Liz noticed Debbie’s heavy eyes, which she interpreted as pregnancy related. She wanted to make Debbie feel better, not worse. “You could have an epidural; that’s up to you,” she said. Then for fear of sounding patronising, which she hated, said: “But that was not what I wanted. It’s an incredible experience. I’m so happy I’ve done it,” while thinking, "I’m even happier it’s over."
Maggie came in with the tea and biscuits. “Have you had any backache, Debbie? Any signs that you’re ready to go into labour?”
“Not really. The head has been engaged for three weeks now and apart from the occasional bit of low backache, which is muscular, I think, there’s been no sign at all. Perhaps I’m going to go over like Helen.”
“How is she by the way? I spoke to Nigel about an hour ago. It sounds like she had a hard time, poor thing. Although he said they are both well.”
“Nine pounds, mum, no wonder,” Liz said.
“It’s not always the size of the baby that makes the difference Liz.”
“Do you have any advice for me, Maggie, before I go in?” Debbie asked her.
“Yes. Ask why, to things you don’t understand. Say
no, if you don’t agree to something, or you don’t feel it is right for you at that moment, and remember to keep an open mind. There are those who are not so good at accepting that you and you alone, are the one with the knowledge of how you feel at any given moment in time, and there are those who know this but forget it sometimes. Sometimes you need to tell people how you feel, because otherwise they'll never guess it.”
Debbie was not so sure what Maggie meant, and she thought of Sean, he used to know how she felt. He used to be good at understanding her
“I can see by your expression that I’ve not made myself clear,” Maggie went on. “If they want to break your waters, for example, and there is no real reason for it that you can tell, ask why, and ask what will be likely to happen if they do it? Then decide if you will allow them to. Don’t be afraid to say what you want.”
Debbie nodded and drank her tea. She looked at Liz, Liz who had her baby, and her mum; and thought of Helen, she too had her baby and her mum.
Then a thought struck Debbie like a lightning bolt, ridiculously, like it was something she had not been aware of until this moment. She was going to be a mum, and that thought shone, like a candle through the swelling miasma surrounding her. Debbie felt her courage rise. “I’m going to be a mum,” she said out loud.
“God help you,” Harry said from behind his newspaper and they laughed, because he didn’t know, and they did.
Chrissy was home. Her car was parked outside her house. Debbie took a deep breath and rang the doorbell for the second time that day.
Chrissy looked the same as usual; no guilty look. She appeared no different from the usual Chrissy. She looked surprised and delighted to see Debbie and gave her a hug. Debbie did not know what to think.
“Debbie, I wasn’t expecting you. Have you heard about Helen, and Liz, have you seen them? I haven’t had a chance yet, been so busy.”
Debbie followed Chrissy into the kitchen. “I’ve seen them both this afternoon; they are good, and both babies are lovely.
“I’ll go tomorrow, what do they look like?” So Debbie described everything she had seen on her visits that she thought Chrissy would want to know, all the while thinking, How can I approach this and not make her think I don’t trust her? She would ask about last night, the school summer show and see where that took them.
“Michael came back here, for coffee," said Chrissy. "I think we did fine, Debbie. I found him so easy to talk to; only he had called and asked if Jonathan could sleep over. Natalie was delighted, of course, and Jonathan is still here. Michael telephoned this morning and asked if I would watch him until later on today, he has had to go to London, for work. There is a big story breaking and he has been working on it. Sean …”
“Mummy, Mummy, Jonathan has gone all funny, and he fell over,” Natalie screamed into the room and both women were out of their seats in moments.
Chrissy ran up the stairs, and Debbie followed
“No, Mummy, no,” Natalie cried.
“Where is he Natalie?” Debbie asked.
"He’s in there.” Natalie pointed to the dining room.
Debbie reached him first and what she saw when she entered that room was to stay with her for the rest of her life. Jonathan was on his back, his face grey, arms by his side limp and lifeless.
“What were you doing? Natalie, what were you two doing?” Natalie was sobbing and Debbie bent down to her level and took her by the arms.
“It’s not your fault, Natalie but I need you to tell me what you were doing,” and then Debbie saw the paper bag on the floor. Inside it were pear drops. Without another thought she picked Jonathan up and put one hand on his stomach, below his ribs. She turned him over and leaning the full weight of his body forward, so he was almost upside down, she slapped his back hard and the boiled sweet flew out of his mouth and landed on the floor.
Jonathan gasped just as Chrissy came into the room.
“I’ve been through the bedrooms,” she stopped. “Christ,” she said, “is he breathing?”
Debbie knelt on the floor and was holding him in her arms and rocking him. She nodded. Chrissy
checked his pulse. To their relief Jonathan’s colour began to return. Chrissy turned to Natalie, who was sobbing in the corner of the room.
“Come here darling,” Chrissy said to her. “He is going to be all right,” and they sat on the floor next to Debbie so that when Jonathan opened his eyes he could see they were with him.
Chrissy telephoned Michael, but it was an answering service, so she decided not to leave any detail, just asked him to call her back.
They took Jonathan to the out-of-hours doctor to be checked over and bought ice-cream on the way home.
Michael telephoned and was on his way over. Debbie decided not to wait. Sean would be waiting for her.
“I went to a nice place. A lady sent me back.” Jonathan told Debbie. He was standing with Chrissie at her front door. Debbie bent to kiss his forehead.
“I think the lady was you, or my mummy,” he said.
“Yes, darling,” Debbie said, but thought no more of it.
It was later than she had planned. Sean was home. He greeted her at the door. “I was beginning to wonder if I should call the hospital,” he said. There was something different about him. He wasn’t cross with her, in fact he was smiling. He kissed her cheek.
“I have been to the hospital, but not for that reason,
with Jonathan. Do you remember the little boy at the barbecue?”
“Of course I do, Michael’s lad, Jonathan. What about him?” It struck Sean that that Debbie had mentioned going to the hospital, and he stopped in his tracks, halfway along the hall. He appeared unduly concerned, Debbie thought, considering he hardly knew them.
“What happened? Is he okay?”
They went into the in the kitchen and Debbie was gently reminded of Scooter, by the nudge of his head against her leg. He was looking better, and got out of his basket to greet her.
“How’s Scooter been?”
“He’s been fine. I think he’s going to be with us for a while longer. Like the proverbial creaking gate.” He bent to stroke Scooter’s head. “I hope so, Scooter, old fella,” Scooter in turn gazed at him with doleful eyes and gave his tail a lazy wag.
“Now tell me about Jonathan, and then let’s go out for something to eat.”
Debbie was tired, but eating out meant no cooking and no washing up, so she was glad of it. Sean was smiling, again, and seeing him more like his old self produced in Debbie a kind of wary expectancy. She hoped this was a sign that they could go back to their old familiar ways, but expected disappointment.
She told him what had happened at Chrissie’s then went to change quickly. What to wear
was not really a problem; there was little choice, nothing fitted any more. Sean brought the car round and they drove.
“Where are you taking us?” she asked. They were driving out of town.
“It’s a surprise, you’ll have to wait and see.”
Debbie settled into her seat and Sean put some music on. Eric Clapton, Tears in Heaven. Debbie felt herself relax. The song also saddened her, reminding her of her mum. She thought about her mum a lot lately. She closed her eyes and dreamed briefly. She was running in a field. The grass was tall and someone was waiting for her but the sun was in her eyes; all she could make out was a silhouette.
Moondance - now Sean was playing Van Morrison. It was their song. Debbie felt the car slow and turn. When she opened her eyes they were driving through trees, in a place she recognised. Thornton Lodge, the hotel where they were married.
“I would have booked us in for the night,” Sean apologised, “but I thought we’d be worrying about your waters going, the hotel bed and all, and I wasn’t sure if you would be comfortable, so it’s just a meal I’m afraid.”
“Sean, it’s a lovely surprise, and you did the right thing. I wouldn’t have been comfortable in a hotel room tonight.”
He helped her out of the car. They walked into the hotel holding hands and Debbie began to wonder if she was still dreaming.
“I have some explaining to do, Debbie,” Sean announced after they had ordered their meal. He took a sip of wine. Debbie took a breath in and held it. “There has been something going on with work. It’s a serious business
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