The Baby Snatchers by Chris Taylor Page A

help
the fresh wave of unease that had crept into his gut as he listened
to Cynthia’s story. The similarities between her experience and
Danielle’s were too many to be discounted. He was more curious than
ever to discover just how many babies had died of SIDS at the
Sydney Harbour Hospital.
    It was much later when Cam finally found a
moment to call Georgie. He was disappointed, but not surprised,
when his call went through to her voicemail. It was after eleven
and she’d told him she was rostered on an early shift the next
morning. He left a message, thanking her again for her kind offer
and confirming Cynthia was looking forward to spending the day with
her. He ended the call by asking her to call him back with the
details. Tossing the phone on his bed, he sighed softly and headed
for bed.

CHAPTER
EIGHT
     
    Dear Diary,
     
    Every once in a while, I stare down at yet
another tiny scrap of squalling humanity and wonder if this baby
wouldn’t be better off with its birth mother. Then I listen to the
torrent of abuse that spews forth from the mouth of that same
mother who is coming off opiates or the loud snores that erupt from
the one who’s sleeping off the enforced withdrawal from meth and I
know that I made the right decision.
    So many babies born to so many unworthy and
ungrateful women. It turns my stomach to watch them. They don’t
deserve those babies. Most of them don’t want them and can’t
conceive of what it takes to raise them. It’s all about their next
fix, their next high and the wholly selfish pleasure that comes
with it.
    It is the barren ones I feel sorry for. The
women who yearn with quiet desperation to hold and love and nurture
a baby of their own. It is for them that I do this. Them, and the
children…
    * * *
    Georgie checked the monitor beside the
woman’s bed and then adjusted the straps over her enlarged belly.
They had slipped a little low and for a few moments, Georgie
couldn’t find the baby’s heartbeat. A minute later, the monitor
picked it up again, and she sighed quietly in relief. The labor had
been progressing nicely and even though the woman had been at it
for more than six hours, it was still early days.
    The patient was giving birth to her first
child and first labors often went for at least twelve to fourteen
hours. Some went a lot longer. Georgie had examined her twenty
minutes earlier, and judging by the dilation of the cervix, they
still had some time to go. Reaching for a washcloth, she dampened
it under the faucet and then handed it to the girl’s partner who
stood by her side near the bed.
    “Here, Wes. Use this on Sandra’s forehead.
She’s perspiring and this will ease her distress.”
    The boy, who barely looked legal, took the
cloth and stared at it a little uncertainly. Georgie nodded her
encouragement and he swiped it hesitantly over his girlfriend’s
face. The cool fabric seemed to calm her and she blew out her
breath on a grateful sigh.
    “How much longer?” she rasped. Georgie told
her.
    “You’re kiddin’ me!” Wes responded. “You
mean we ain’t even halfway through?”
    “It’s a little hard to tell,” Georgie said
calmly. “Everybody’s different. But if I had to guess, I’d say
Sandra is about halfway there. But you’re doing fine, honey.”
Georgie smiled her encouragement, directing her comment to the
patient.
    “No one told me it’d hurt so much.” The
woman gasped around another contraction.
    “I can arrange for an epidural, if you
like,” Georgie offered. “It will take away the pain.”
    Wes nodded enthusiastically, but Sandra
looked less convinced. “I’ve been clean for three months, now. I
don’t want no more drugs.”
    “But, Sandy, this is a hospital drug. It’s
different and you won’t feel no pain,” Wes said with a hint of
urgency.
    Sandra’s jaw set in a stubborn line and once
again, she shook her head. “No more drugs, Wes. I made a promise to
our baby.”
    Wes made a sound of impatience and scrubbed
a