“The baby’s breech, come quickly.” The midwife’s voice was sharp and squeaky. She had already hung up the phone. My head, muddled with sleep, began to pound. I staggered out of bed, stripped off my pyjamas and dragged on an old shirt and jeans, pulling my straggly hair into a rough ponytail. I grabbed my jacket on the way out the door.
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- Baarlinjan Medical Centre, Daylesford, VIC.
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