Bad News for a Mother with Cancer

(Door slams shut) - Lil, sister Juliane's here.

- Have you come about the baby?

Or about the cancer?

- That's not a question anyone should have to ask, is it?

But I can't answer it.

I've come about you.

First and foremost, I am your midwife and my overwhelming concern is for your wellbeing and for that of the baby.

But the cancer specialist wants radiation to start within the next two weeks.

So he's asked if the baby can be induced in hospital.

- I wanted to have it here at home, with Ronny holding my hand.

- An appointment has been made for you on the maternity ward, at St. Cuthpits on Monday.

- I'm not ready.

I'm just not ready.

I used to have a whole routine before I went on stage.

I'd line up my tap shoes and my ballet shoes.

I'd have a particular way of setting out everything.

Eyelashes, Patt, stick, lipstick.

Getting ready was part of the performance.

And getting ready is part of this.

- I'm so sorry - We haven't even thought of a name.

(foot steps) - So, no home birth for Lillian Reynolds.

- Oh And I suppose that decision was made for her without consultation or agreement and suddenly not with her approval.

- All I could do was pass on the news as kindly as possible.

- I saw this day after day when I was looking after my godmother, Daphne.

It's as though cancer is this monstrous bully.

This great dictator whose voice must be heard first who must be considered before all ours and very often before the wishes of the patient.

- And we're not used to that, aren't we?

The mother is at the heart of everything we do.