Snow is falling. If you’re lucky, you have a friend who bakes, and you’re in possession of some truly remarkable cookies. Winter is here, and so is a drama fan favorite holiday tradition: the Call The Midwife Holiday Special! I’m here to recap the show just in case you missed it, or just couldn’t get enough of our favorite nurses, nuns, and other assorted denizens of Poplar.
This year’s holiday extravaganza kicks off with our pals putting on a nativity play, directed and produced by the dream team of Phyllis and Miss Higgins, and featuring some really exceptional foley work with coconut shells from Phyllis.
Anyway, the show goes as well as any production starring small children really can, and everyone is having a pretty great time. I also feel that I must tell you that, in the front row, Dr. Turner is wearing one of those ubiquitous gigantic oatmeal colored sweaters that British television men seem to favor for some unknown reason.
Meanwhile, at the Buckle’s house, Lucille, Vi, and Trixie are working on the final fitting for Lucille’s wedding dress when Fred Kool-Aid Mans into the house.
Fred: Help, my pants ripped, and I have to go do the whole Santa thing as soon as that nativity play is over!
Vi, and let’s face it, me: Fred, I love you, but you’re less important than finishing Lucille’s dress.
And lest you think Cyril’s wedding clothes aren’t getting looked after, our young friend has a fitting with the input of our favorite church lady, Mrs. Wallace. Cyril, ever practical, explains that it’ll be a good suit for preaching, but even Mrs. Wallace is more focused on the wedding right now. And guess who Cyril has chosen for his best man? Fred, who stumbles in, still desperately searching for someone who can sew. Despite being less than impressed, Mrs. Wallace jumps into the fray, and with no time to spare: just as the nativity play wraps up to a resounding applause, Cyril and Fred set up in the hall.
The next day, at breakfast, everyone’s basking in the glow of a fundraising show well done when Phyllis arrives with not so great news: St. Cuthberts has just assigned the squad another 23 patients.
Sister Julienne, not a trace of irony: But our lists are full! There’s no room at this inn!
Sister Hilda: Can’t they send them in the new year?
Phyllis: I asked, but apparently most of them are due imminently.
Boots, cheeky: What do you think was happening in March?
Sister Hilda: LOL! But for real: what are we going to do? Can we bring back the trainees?
Boots: I’d be up for it!
Sister Julienne: No — you need time to study, and time with your kiddo.
Phyllis: Well, I guess I’d better start trying to beat my rolodex into submission. If I believed in god, I’d be praying for a miracle right about now.
Mood, Phyllis, mood. Later, Lucille grabs the mail, which includes a package for her. Inside is a stunning locket her family sent so she could wear it at the wedding, which leaves both Cyril and Lucille in awe of both the beauty of the piece and the sentiment behind it.
At the clinic, the St. Cuthberts overflow situation is already causing problems in the form of a truly gigantic line. While Trixie and Miss Higgins handle crowd control, Dr. Turner and Shelagh see their first patient, a mum who’s incredibly cheerful despite being very overwhelmed by all the household responsibilities of the season.
Dr. Turner: Well, you need bed rest!
Rise and Grind: HA, you’re hilarious. I won’t get rest at home.
Dr. Turner: You’d be able to rest at the maternity home. And if you promise to be cool, we could even let you out for Christmas.
Shelagh:
Why’s our resident ex-nun so worried? It turns out she has a good reason: with this many patients due soon, they might run out of beds! And given that, Shelagh wonders: is it really a good idea to give one up for someone who’s just… tired?
Dr. Turner: She’s about to have her FIFTH kid! She’s exhausted now, and her blood pressure isn’t great. Preventative measures might be a good call here.
I mean, let’s be real, they’re both right. While the Turners attempt to solve one of the biggest challenges of the modern healthcare system (good luck!), Sister Julienne examines a mom I’ll be calling Dodger, who starts the appointment by apologizing for missing so many previous ones.
Sister Julienne: Well, you’re here now, and that’s what counts! I’ll get some forms so we can get you all up to date, including blood and urine tests.
Dodger: But I did those last time!
Sister Julienne: Yes, well, we repeat them regularly to make sure everything is ok.
For some reason, the prospect of more testing is too much for Dodger to handle, so she does a runner as soon as Sister Julienne leaves. This is bad news: Sister Julienne had hoped to get Dodger examined by Dr. Turner, worried that their patient looked underweight and pale, which could indicate anemia. Whatever’s going on is also causing poor Dodger to lose her lunch in the alley outside the clinic, and while she pulls herself together as best she can, she looks truly miserable, so I hope our friends track her down soon.
At the Turner house, after the kiddos have gone to bed (despite their vehement protestations, naturally), Shelagh and Dr. Turner talk about how happy the family has been this season. Unfortunately, this inevitably leads to a discussion of what stressed them out in Season 9: May’s childhood in the foster system and the uncertainty around whether she’d get to stay with the family. Shelagh, of course, jumps straight to beating herself up about not being there for their kiddo when she was a baby, but her husband correctly points out that even though she’s an awesome mom, and basically Mary Poppins, even she can’t travel back in time.
Back at Nonnatus, as the squad prepares for another fun day of midwifery, Vi asks for Lucille to head over for yet another fitting. Now look, would I be stressed about making a wedding dress for a friend? YES. But Lucille will look beautiful no matter what, and TBH I suspect we’re getting to the level of nitpicking that isn’t going to help matters. Anyway, despite everyone aggressively preparing for what Sister Hilda describes as an avalanche of babies, actual births continue to be thin on the ground as the episode progresses.
Sister Julienne: You know, I feel like they’re all waiting for Mother Mildred’s visit later in the episode. It would be peak drama.
Boots: I think it’ll wait for the full moon; we all know that seems to jumpstart labor.
Sister Monica Joan: It’s true! The moon impacts the tides, makes sense that it does the same thing to the amniotic fluid.
Trixie: You know, I like some of those old superstitions. Like putting a knife under the mattress to cut the labor pains!
Sister Julienne: Or that a baby born breech will grow up to be a healer?
Sister Frances: Oh, I was born breech! Still the only breech birth I’ve ever been involved with actually, other than the two I had in training, which I watched from a safe distance.
Me: SISTER FRANCES. Do you WANT to be dealing with a solo breech delivery by the end of this episode? Because that's how you end dealing with a solo breech delivery by the end of this episode!
Before my dire pronouncement can immediately come true, the phone rings, sending Trixie to the first delivery of the episode. And where should she be headed but Miserable Disaster Apartments, which, thankfully, I’m going to have to rename. Outside, signs proclaim the presence of a renovation company AND a pest control company, and inside, Trixie and her patient Esmee discuss the newly replaced sink and ceilings.
Esmee: Seems like the landlord has money to burn. Ugh, I’m sorry, but I need the chamber pot; unfortunately we still don’t have individual loos.
Well well well, good job, A for Effort! Meanwhile, at the Turner house, young Tim’s first night back from university is predictably interrupted: no, it’s not Gondor, calling for aid, but a patient, and naturally the Turners (including young Tim) will answer the call. Across town, wedding preparations continue apace, as the nuns host Mrs. Wallace and some of the other church ladies for a planning meeting.
Sister Julienne: You have all done so much to make this day special!
Mrs. Wallace: Well of course! Cyril is like a son to us.
Sister Julienne: You know, I sometimes feel like I’m Lucille’s mom; I get that!
Mrs. Wallace: It’s too bad you don’t get to wear a hat.
Sister Hilda gets a good chuckle out of that (perhaps because she, as I did, pictures a hat nesting doll situation where Sister Julienne wears a fabulous church hat on top of her wimple, but I can’t confirm). Anyway, as they go over the details it’s clear that everything is planned, but also that there MIGHT be a few too many cooks in this kitchen. Literally.
Sister Hilda: The cake is ready, and if I may say so myself, it is awesome.
Mrs. Wallace: Well that's nice, but we’re going to do the Jamaican tradition where the ladies of the church make cakes and carry them into the reception in procession.
Lucille: Oh! That’s so nice, I didn’t expect that!
Mrs. Wallace: Well, we weren’t sure if it would work out, but it did, praise god!
Sister Hilda, hurt and not trying very hard to hide it, TBH: Well can’t argue with God, I guess. Let’s talk lunch.
Across town, as the Turner boys approach their patient’s flat, Dr. Turner coaches his son.
Dr. Turner: So. The patient is feeling faint and having neck pain. What are you ruling out?
Tim: Fractured vertebrae, maybe a stroke?
Now, when they arrive at the flat, who should answer the door but the one and only Dodger, who’s wearing a truly spectacular spangly dress and informs our doctor duo that her husband was the one who called. Is her husband, perhaps, the hulking giant of a man behind her? No, and as the fellas walk further into the flat they notice what I can only describe as a central casting passel of mobsters. Once we spot the patient, it’s clear that we can rule out a stroke and fractured vertebrae: the pain is very obviously coming from the giant bleeding wound in the neck of a guy I’m sure Dodger’s husband would call “one of his associates.” Thankfully for everyone involved, Dr. Turner has seen a lot of weird stuff over the years, and so while he’s annoyed that they left out some key, knife related details, he quickly gets to work. Tim, lurking in the corner, makes his way to a couch and is handed a rum and coke, which he sips with the exact face of someone who knows they really shouldn’t drink, but also that their dad is presently preoccupied with a bloody stab wound.
Dr. Turner: So did you call the cops?
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: Nah, didn’t want to bother them.
Knifed Neck Guy: They’re obviously too busy dealing with criminals, doc.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: Is it his jugular?
Dr. Turner: No, if it was, he’d be dead. This is no big deal, but he is going to need stitches and antiseptic.
Knifed Neck Guy: I don’t want antiseptic, it stings!
Dr. Turner, amusing himself (and me!), takes that opportunity to apply pressure to the wound, which as you can imagine, also stings.
Dodger, chilling in the corner, to Tim: You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want to.
Tim, a typical teenager: No, I want it! It’s nice!
Across the room, Dr. Turner, evidently deciding this evening is a good bonding opportunity for the mobsters, tells Dodger’s Mobster Husband to apply pressure to his buddy’s neck.
Dr. Turner: Look, you should have taken him to the hospital. I obviously know why you didn’t, but still.
Is this, perhaps, an unnecessarily bold stance to take when you and your kid are surrounded by literal mobsters? Yeah buddy! But like all characters on Call The Midwife, Dr. T is a badass, so what can you do? Meanwhile, across town, Trixie runs into A for Effort in the hallway while emptying the chamberpot.
Trixie: Oh hey! What’s a nice girl like you doing in a recently less horrible hellhole of an apartment block like this?
A for Effort: The pest control people wanted me to look at a particularly gnarly rat nest and needed to be paid in cash.
Trixie: Well they’re doing a good job; I haven’t seen even a single roach this whole time!
A for Effort: Hey, success!
Trixie: And look, I COULD say “it’s about time” but I won’t. Well done.
A for Effort: Yeah, you don’t need to say it, I get it! And you’re here to deliver a baby, I assume?
Esmee, right on time, through the wall:
A for Effort: Well, that’s that answered, have a great rest of your evening.
Trixie: Same! Bye!
Aw, nice! Also nice? The sweet stitch job Dr. Turner just finished on Knifed Neck Guy. Dodger’s Mobster Husband, kind of a weirdo, insists on shaking Dr. Turner’s still blood-covered gloved hand, and then offers Tim a suit. In his specific measurements.
Dr. Turner:
Tim, bless his heart: Oh, that IS my size!
Dr. Turner: No, thank you.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: Well, at least have some pie, I bet you’re starving. Dodger, get these guys pie! I bet you know her from clinic already!
Dr. Turner: Oh, hi! No, I don’t think we’ve met yet.
Dodger gets up to grab the pie, and makes a weird face, which fortunately does not go unnoticed by young Tim, despite the rum and coke. Back at No Longer Miserable Disaster Apartments, Esmee is at that stage of labor where she’s just DONE.
Trixie: Just one more push, sweetie, the worst is over.
Esmee: No, I mean I’m DONE done. I want to go on the damn pill but the pope won’t allow it.
Trixie: I hear ya, but this isn’t the time to argue for Vatican 3! You got this.
While she labors, out in the hall, it turns out that A for Effort hasn’t left yet, and is sitting in the hall freaking out. Being traumatised by childbirth certainly makes sense in his case, but it does beg the question of why he’s decided to stick around and put himself through a clearly stressful situation. Soon, Esmee’s labor is over, and while she’s thrilled to snuggle her new baby, she still brings up the fact that she doesn’t have access to birth control, which makes Trixie’s huge smile falter just a bit.
Across town, pie in hand in the stairwell outside the mob layer, Tim proves that he was watching after all.
Tim: Hey, did you notice that girl? She looked scared, and not of… what was happening in the flat. She looked scared of YOU.
Dr. Turner, half listening: Look, Tim, don’t say anything about this to your mom, she’ll FREAK.
Tim, a regular standup comedian: Well the new suit might be a little hard to explain.
Dr. Turner, teachable moment-ing the whole “knife wound to the neck” situation: Sometimes the job is about asking questions, and sometimes it’s about not asking questions at all.
But Dr. Turner is so caught up in this after school special moment that he doesn’t hear Dodger sneak down the stairs behind them. As the two Turners leave, we finally see what’s been keeping her away from our midwife pals when she locks herself in the laundry room and pulls out her hidden stash of drugs.
Across town, Trixie, bright eyed and bushy tailed, leaves her delivery to find A for Effort waiting outside, and a pile of tangerines in her bike basket.
A for Effort: Some random dude left those?
Trixie: Oh yeah, that happens all the time during the holidays. Wait a second, didn’t you go home?
A for Effort: I thought you might want a ride, and I forgot you have a bike.
Of course, his car can’t really fit her bike, and being a gentleman, our pal walks Trixie home.
Trixie: You know, I think tangerines are the most Christmas smell ever. More than pine needles, or cigars, that's for sure.
A for Effort: I always buy a box of nice cigars at the holidays. I don’t even like them, I just do it to be polite. Feel the same way about cigarettes and booze too.
Trixie: Well, I will always find cigarettes appealing. But drink I can live without.
A for Effort: Ugh, my mom is probably gonna pour a whole raft of booze down my throat on Christamas day, and if I say no she’ll worry about me.
Trixie: It is a lot to be processing: both your first Christmas as a dad and your first Christmas as a widower. Are you dreading it?
A for Effort: I’m dreading my mother’s bread sauce.
Trixie: You accepted Sister Julienne’s invite to the wedding, right?
A for Effort: Yes, but I’m sure she only asked me to be polite.
Trixie: LOL, dude, you’re our guardian angel, you’re going to get invited to everything now.
Sister Monica Joan, busting up the cute moment as is her wont: I can’t say hi or wish you a happy holidays, it’s the great silence and I’m not talking!
Trixie: Look, it might do you good to do something different for Christmas this year. Come to Nonnatus if you can handle it.
Inside, Sister Hilda surveys her apparently unwanted cake with dismay, before sadly ripping the tiny bride and groom off the top to swap it out for some holly.
Boots, correct: Look dude, Cyril and Lucille are having an English style wedding with a lot of English guests. It’s normal and good for them to have traditions from home!
Sister Hilda, kind of missing the point but at least she’s doing it in a fun way: Well I’m going to show off a tradition from here: we’re going to have a hen night for Lucille. Party games, punch, all the fixins!
Boots, amused: Uh… have you ever been to a hen night?
Sister Hilda: Hey! I had a life before I became a nun!
Honestly, I have exactly zero trouble believing that. The next day, Cyril arrives at Vi’s shop to find Fred and Reggie working on the window display, and possibly avoiding a wedding-obsessed Vi.
Cyril, to Vi: Hey hey! I heard you finished the dress!
Vi: Cyril, I’m going to be honest with you, I almost lost it when I gave it to Lucille.
Cyril: Well I’m going to lose it when I see her in it. I can’t wait!
Reggie: Ask about the stag night!
Fred: Do it, she can’t resist you!
Cyril, understands the assignment: Please let Reggie come out with us? It’s my last night of freedom!
Vi: I wouldn’t let FRED go if he wasn’t your best man!
Me: Vi, this is hardly going to turn into The Hangover, be cool!
Cyril: What the recapper said! It’s just me and some friends from church playing dominos!
Vi: Fine. But only if Reggie only has shandies!
Oh Vi. Sweet Vi. This is Cyril we’re talking about, you don’t have to worry! Over at the maternity home, Rise and Grind is following the letter if not the spirit of Dr. Turner’s prescription for bedrest, cranking out a big stack of holiday cards.
Rise and Grind: Can you send these for me with that urine sample?
Shelagh: Ah, not so much, the pee goes straight to the lab.
Rise and Grind: Well maybe one of the nurses can take these out for me later? It’s not like you’re busy.
So, uh. This is going to go great! Out in the waiting room, Knifed Neck Guy and the dude who handed Tim the rum, hereafter Captain Morgan, arrive looking for Dr. Turner.
Miss Higgins: He’s in with a patient, but take a seat!
Captain Morgan: Oh, we can’t stay, we just brought this to the doc with compliments from Dodger’s Mobster Husband.
Shelagh, arriving on the scene: Oh my, this is so sweet! Wow, is that a ham?
Miss Higgins: Woah, and that’s a bottle of sherry!
Shelagh, who can’t know how funny this is: It’s actually rum!
Knifed Neck Guy: Hey Doc! With my boss’ compliments.
Dr. Turner, trying to set a boundary: I really can’t accept this.
Shelagh: Well I think it’s very generous! Please pass on our appreciation. Holy cow, is this perfume?
Miss Higgins: Yeah, and it smells awesome.
Knifed Neck Guy: Seriously, thank you. I appreciate it.
Dr. Turner, deciding this is a battle he’s going to lose and not keen to explain his new “doctor to the mob” status to Shelagh: You’re welcome.
Can’t wait to find out what Shelagh thinks when she discovers that ham fell off a truck! Over at Nonnatus, Phyllis returns from the bathroom to the room she shares with Lucille to see that the wedding dress is hanging in the corner, and almost immediately bursts into tears. Of course, being Phyllis, she tries to hide it from Lucille.
Lucille: Oh no, did I upset you?
Phyllis: No, no, it’s not you, it’s just that there was a dress on that same hook once before.
Lucille: Oh my god, Barbara’s dress. I’m so sorry, that was insensitive of me.
Phyllis: WHAT? No, you’re not insensitive! You’re being a normal bride, and I’m over here thinking about my own feelings and a person you didn’t even know very well.
Lucille, saying exactly the right thing: No one will ever forget her: I feel lucky that I came here after her. Tell me about her wedding?
And so Phyllis tells Lucille about Barbara’s wedding. It’s bittersweet, of course, but talking about it clearly helps Phyllis process her grief. She tells Lucille about a set of pearls she wore as Barbara’s bridesmaid that she hasn’t been able to wear since, and then apologizes again for talking about bridesmaids, when Lucille isn’t going to have any.
Lucille: Well, I couldn’t have my sisters, and I think you should only have the people closest to you. Barbara chose well.
The next morning, Phyllis pops into the waiting room at the surgery to visit Miss Higgins. Why?
Phyllis: Well, it’s partially a social call, but I also need your professional assistance.
Miss Higgins looks ready and excited to oblige, but before they can say anything more, some of our mobster pals come bursting through the door with a fella draped over their shoulder, asking for Dr. Turner’s immediate assistance. Phyllis assesses the extremely grey mobster and turns him onto his side just as Dr. Turner appears. The man has vomited, and between that and his tiny pupils, blue lips, and shallow breathing, Dr. Turner immediately and correctly suspects an opioid overdose.
Phyllis, at Dodger’s Mobster Husband: HEROIN?
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: We need help!
Dr. Turner: The only place that can do that is the emergency room. Miss Higgins, call for an ambulance.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband, angrily kicking a chair: I hate drugs. The only people who do them can’t control themselves.
Dr. Turner, eyeing the dented chair: And you can?
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: Last year my brother died because of that stuff. I found him with the needle in his arm and I was too scared to take him anywhere because of the law.
Dr. Turner, sick of pulling his punches: It’s definitely a different level of crime than selling stolen suits, huh? Phyllis, can you grab cleaning supplies, this man has voided his bladder.
At the Buckle residence, Vi sits down with Reggie to pick out his tie for the wedding. Reggie, who has inherited Vi’s taste, immediately picks the pure silk tie, and won’t be swayed to the artificial one Vi suggests (they may have pure silk tastes, but, alas, they definitely have an artificial silk budget): it’s for a wedding! And speaking of everyone’s progeny: the Turner kids continue to adorably count down the days until Christmas, and over at Nonnatus, Boots brings Colette for a visit, where the girl gives Lucille an extremely cute hand-crafted wedding card. Lucille is in the middle of accepting the card and chatting to the two “sisters” about their Christmas at Nonnatus house when Mrs. Wallace approaches at a run. The man who was meant to walk Lucille down the aisle has broken his shoulder: there’s no one to give our bride away!
Later, at Cyril’s place, the couple talks over this dilemma.
Lucille, clearly upset: I’ll have to walk myself down the aisle! I can’t ask anyone else from church without hurting their feelings :(
Cyril: I picked Fred for my best man because he and Vi were the first English friends I made. Why don’t you ask him to give you away?
Lucille: I couldn’t! He’s already got a job!
Cyril: Babe, I have Jesus and a picture of my granddad to keep in my pocket; I won’t be alone.
And so they head right down to ask Fred, who honestly looks a little overwhelmed at the prospect.
Fred: I’ve never given anyone away before!
Lucille: It’s not really something that needs a lot of practice. And I’ll be new to it as well!
Fred, tearing up: We’ll work it out together then.
Awwww! The sweet fun continues over at Nonnatus for Lucille’s hen night. As the ladies all play some kind of hot potato game, Sister Hilda wanders around refilling glasses.
Vi: Uh, there’s something besides fruit juice in this punch, right?
Sister Hilda, sneaky: Miss Higgins brought some RUM! It was donated!
Now look: Cyril’s stag night is pretty wild, but only because all the gents seem to be getting VERY competitive at dominos. But Lucille’s hen party is wild because almost everyone is at least slightly tipsy courtesy of the spiked punch (Trixie, of course, is having tea instead).
Lucille: Sister Hilda, you’re always a surprise. This punch is great.
Sister Hilda, definitely has been sampling her own wares: I’m not totally sure I got all the flavors balanced right. Better add more rum.
Everyone’s vibe right now:
Later that night, the ladies all stagger up the stairs, giggling away, and poor Lucille trips and falls. She quickly laughs it off, and they all stumble to their beds, but the next morning, our blushing bride has one heck of a shiner. Everyone crowds around trying to help… to mixed results.
Sister Julienne, bringing ice: Just remember, it’s only a black eye.
Sister Frances: And there are three whole days until the wedding!
Boots: It’s gonna get worse before it gets better.
Phyllis, forceful: But it WILL get better! And we all know Trixie would be an Instagram makeup influencer if she was born in a different generation.
Trixie, entering on cue: I think we should put this raw mince under the ice pack. Yes, it’s supposed to be steak, but we all know the Nonnatus fridge isn’t exactly brimming with fancy cuts.
Sister Hilda, possibly still drunk and opening the aspirin bottle when Sister Julienne spots her: Uhh… Aspirin will help bring down the swelling.
Lucille: Oh god, there’s swelling too? I feel like crap!
Trixie: You’re going to be a beautiful bride, and that’s a Trixie Franklin promise!
Later, at the clinic, Sister Julienne asks Miss Higgins if there’s been any sign of Dodger. Unsurprisingly, the answer is no, so Sister Julienne makes a note that they’ll have to arrange a home visit. Across the room, Sister Frances meets with a first time mum who’s worried about the prospect of having her baby at home instead of at the hospital, until Sister Frances ably sets her at ease. Sister Julienne is with her next patient, a mum with very puffy ankles, when Lucille makes a surprise appearance. It seems that Boots’ prediction that the shiner would get worse was indeed correct, and poor Lucille’s eye is swollen shut and a striking shade of purple.
Dr. Turner and Trixie hustle Lucille back to the administrative areas of the clinic so they can examine her eye, and the news is not good. Lucille has a large amount of blood pooling under the skin, and Dr. Turner wants her to go to the hospital, because she might also have a broken bone, which could require surgery. Trixie, determined to be supportive, proclaims that they can’t worry about the outside chance that Lucille needs surgery: there’s only one wedding, after all!
In completely separate news, apparently our team is in the middle of a very mild winter, and they REALLY aren’t loving it. At Vi’s shop, Reggie asks to read the weather report again: isn’t there any chance of snow?
Fred: It’s just going to say the same thing: we’re in a warm snap. I know it doesn’t feel like Christmas when you’re sweating, but Jesus was born in Bethlehem, and it’s hot there!
Reggie, undeterred: What does the paper say?
Fred, resigned: Mild night, moderate breeze.
Back at Dodger’s flat, she takes a rest on her way back up the stairs, and starts to leak amniotic fluid. Unbothered, either because she seems to be under the influence or because she’s deep in denial, she makes her way home, where she’s greeted by her mobster husband, who has decorated their flat very nicely and sent his various goons away for the evening.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: Are you tired after the clinic? What did the doctor say?
Dodger: It was just the midwives. They said I’ve got tons of time.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: Well my mom said she thinks you might need more milk, so I asked her how to make cheese on toast for you. Tada!
Dodger is touched by this nice gesture, and honestly, so am I. He might be a mobster, but never let it be said this guy isn’t a thoughtful partner. And speaking of thoughtful partners, Cyril runs over to Nonnatus house to check on Lucille. At the door, he’s greeted by Boots, who gives it to him straight: it’s going to take at least a week for the swelling to go down, and Lucille’s eye looks like blood pudding! Cyril, of course, takes that in stride and heads upstairs.
Lucille: You can talk to me from out there in the hall!
Cyril: I don’t care what you look like! You’re the most beautiful woman to ever live and I don’t care if your eye looks like blood pudding!
Trixie, at Boots, when the blood pudding reference sets Lucille off:
Boots:
Lucille, sobbing: You aren’t going to see this! If it isn’t going to get better for ten days the wedding is off!
Cyril: Trixie, can’t you just tell her you’ll cover it with a veil?
Trixie: Cyril, we couldn’t cover it with a tarp. It’s bad, dude.
Sister Monica Joan, blasting into the hall: HI. I’ve been talking to the doctor, and my memory isn’t always the best but I think there are some old remedies that might do the trick here!
What’s the plan? Haven’t the foggiest, and we’ll have to wait to find out. First, we have to greet Mother Mildred, who I somehow forgot was making an appearance, and arrives on the back of the milk truck.
Mother Mildred: So, I’m sure you have a ton of weird activities planned for me?
Sister Julienne: Actually, we’re kind of in the middle of a medical emergency.
Mother Mildred: Well in that case, we need milk.
And then she stares down the milkman until he donates some bottles to the cause. Look, is Mother Mildred slightly terrifying? Yes. But do I love her more because of that? ALSO YES. Inside, Dr. Turner sets the stage for Sister Monica Joan’s treatment plan.
Dr. Turner: Ok, here’s the deal. This is going to seem strange, and yes, we don’t do this often anymore, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work!
Sister Monica Joan: We used to do this all the time when doctors were a luxury! Theocritus even wrote about it!
Lucille, panicking slightly: You’re gonna do something to me from 300 BC?! They didn’t know about germ theory!
Sister Monica Joan: Don’t worry about it. We’re going to start by bathing your eye with sterile water.
Boots: That’s it? No iodine?
Dr. Turner: Nope, no iodine, no antiseptic. That’ll kill the leeches!
And then he plonks down a giant jug of the writhing vampire-adjacent beasties on the table. Goth invertebrates? In the Nonnatus kitchen? It’s more likely than you think! Here’s the best part: this is a genius plan and it will almost certainly work. In fact, leeches are still sometimes used today: their spit contains anticoagulant and chemicals that increase blood flow, making them a good option for certain types of surgical aftercare.
Across town, at the maternity home, Rise and Grind packs her bags and prepares to leave for the holiday as previously arranged with Dr. Turner.
Rise and Grind: This is great! The timing is perfect, I’ll get home just in time for Christmas and if I’m lucky my family already cooked dinner!
Trixie: Bad news, old sport, you aren’t going anywhere: your blood pressure is just too high.
Rise and Grind: WHAT.
Anyway, enough of that, back to the leeches, which Dr. Turner is careful to explain are medicinal, and procured from the lab at St. Barts.
Boots: Well they’re gross.
Sister Monica Joan: Doctors used to farm their own!
Dr. Turner, clearly not realizing Lucille is probably too nervous for fun facts: Don’t worry, you won’t feel any pain once we get started. They release natural anesthesia!
Sister Monica Joan: If they were at room temperature they’d just go to town on your blood like an all you can eat buffet, but they're a little cold.
Dr. Turner: So I’m going to make a tiny prick to your eyelid with a sterile needle just to get the ball rolling.
Sister Monica Joan, holding Lucille’s hand: Don’t worry, you’re in a long line of folks who’ve had this treatment!
Lucille: How’s it looking?
Dr. Turner: Good! And this leech is friggin ginormous so I think we’ll only need the one. We’ll check back in 45 minutes.
Across town, Dodger’s Mobster Husband heads out for a day of collecting ill-gotten gains. Will his wife be ok alone? She says yes, but the second he leaves she has a contraction, so hard to say really. Back at Nonnatus, the 45 minutes are up, and with Mother Mildred now looking on, Dr. Turner takes off the dressing.
Lucille: What if it doesn’t work?
Mother Mildred: Then science AND prayer have failed us: we’re pulling for ya!
Once the dressing is off, it’s immediately clear that the wee beastie did it’s job: Lucille can open her eye! Dr. Turner, like a giant nerd, immediately starts going into the same spiel I did earlier about the chemistry of leech spit, until Sister Monica Joan cuts him off. No one cares about chemistry right now, dude, our bride is back in action!
And that isn’t the only Christmas miracle: outside, Fred and Reggie are out for a walk when it starts snowing! And at Nonnatus, Phyllis and Miss Higgins return from their secret mystery errand. We still don’t know what it is, but we do know it was a success, and that Miss Higgins wants to celebrate with some sherry (fair enough!). Before they can get inside to get their drink on, Dodger appears and calls out for help, which of course they rush to provide. Phyllis bundles Dodger into her car and drives over to the maternity home, and they get her inside just in time: Dodger soon gives birth to her daughter, who thankfully seems totally healthy.
Meanwhile, Cyril calls Lucille up on the phone. Tomorrow is Christmas, which means he won’t be able to see her due to the wedding happening the next day, but as Lucille points out, it isn’t tomorrow yet. They both head outside and spin around in the falling snow like the angels they are.
Lucille: Look, check out my eye!
Cyril: I see it! It’s perfect.
Lucille: You’d have said that no matter what!
Cyril: I’d have meant that no matter what!
And you know what, I believe him, both because Lucille is perfect no matter what AND because Cyril is the human embodiment of the heart eyes emoji. Doubling down on being the best, the two start building a snowman, with lots of mutual ribbing about it’s construction, when they see Reggie turning the corner.
Lucille, worried: Reggie, what are you doing out this time of night?
Reggie: It’s snowing! I wanted to enjoy it in case it melts.
Cyril, in good spirits: Can’t argue with that, we had the same idea!
Lucille: Seriously, do Fred and Violet know you’re out? I’m calling them.
Cyril: Well bring back a carrot for the snowman, we’ll finish it!
Instead, the two men have a snowball fight and a quick chat about the upcoming wedding.
Reggie: I’m glad you’re getting married, you won’t be lonely then! I feel sorry for people who are lonely; I have love, so I’m lucky.
Cyril: And you’re wise too; that’s a very good point. Hey, do you have a tie picked out for the wedding?
Reggie: Uh, yeah buddy, and it’s SILK.
Cyril: Well in that case, there’s something I want to ask you.
Back at the maternity home, Dodger chats with Rise and Grind, who’s trying to cheer up her subdued surprise roommate when Phyllis brings in the baby and an update.
Phyllis: I just talked to your husband, and he’s going to come by tomorrow. In the meantime, you need rest, and this baby should try breastfeeding.
Dodger, vehemently: I’m not feeding her myself!
Phyllis: Ok, that’s fine — I’ll give her a bottle tonight.
The next morning dawns, and brings with it Dodger’s Mobster Husband, who’s about as excited about his baby as anyone we’ve ever seen a dad be on this show to date.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband, over the moon: The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to be a dad; this is the best Christmas present ever.
Dodger: Do you want to name her after your brother?
Dodger’s Mobster Husband, hardening up instantly: No. I’m not naming her after anyone who threw their life away.
Just then, Rise and Grind walks back into the ward and announces to the room at large that she’s just lost a massive mucous plug. To be fair, this is a pretty reasonable topic of conversation for a maternity ward, and everyone there seems to agree, taking it in stride. Trixie calls up Dr. Turner at the Nonnatus house Christmas party to tell him that St. Cuthberts doesn’t have an additional bed for Rise and Grind, so she’ll have to deliver at the maternity home. He’s not worried, but tells Trixie to call back if any issues arise. She might have a hard time getting to the phone, however, because Rise and Grind is busily using it to call her husband with directions about preparing Christmas dinner.
At Nonnatus, Sister Frances gets the first delivery call and heads out to assist her nervous first-time mum, while at the maternity home, Trixie attempts to soothe Dodger’s baby to no avail. Realizing the time has come for reinforcements, she grabs the phone from Rise and Grind, hangs it up, and dials out, just as Rise and Grind’s water breaks. When Sister Julienne arrives, they start with Dodger’s baby, who’s still crying and won’t eat anything.
Trixie: I don’t like how high pitched that cry is. And I’m worried about mom too.
While Trixie takes a look at Rise and Grind, Sister Julienne assesses Dodger, who’s starting to show signs of withdrawal.
Sister Julienne: So your water broke before you called us. How long did you wait before you called?
Dodger: A day? I didn’t have any pains.
Sister Julienne: I’m worried that you might have an infection, so I’m going to have Dr. Turner come take a look at you and the baby.
Easier said than done: as Dr. Turner makes his way over to the maternity ward from Nonnatus, he has to leave behind all three of his very sad, very cute kiddos, who are not thrilled about this development. Meanwhile, across town, the first part of Sister Frances’ patient’s labor goes pretty well, especially for a first timer — the biggest challenge is that her poor husband is a nervous wreck, hovering and asking if he needs to boil water. But later, JUST AS I PREDICTED, we run into a challenge: the baby is in a breech position. Sister Frances asks the husband to call up Nonnatus, and does a pretty good job pretending she’s not worried, but let’s be real: she’s kinda freaking out!
And of course, because when it rains it pours, another laboring mother has arrived at the maternity home, prompting Sister Julienne to call up Nonnatus to have them send Sister Hilda over. This call neatly ties up the phone line so that Sister Frances’ patient’s husband just can’t get through with HER call for backup. In the exam room at the maternity home, Dr. Turner finally gets the info he needs from Dodger. She explains that she’s not a super frequent drug user, but that she uses it to help cope when she feels unwell mentally.
Dr. Turner: Where do you even GET this stuff?
Dodger: Acquaintances. It’s pretty easy when you know who to ask, and it’s popular.
Dr. Turner: Well, what I just gave you is medically similar to heroin, and since I’ve prescribed it it’s legal.
Dodger: When will it start working? Before my husband comes?
Dr. Turner: He doesn’t know, does he?
Dodger: I handled it really well.
Dr. Turner: Uh, not sure you did, friend.
Before they can finish THAT conversation, Sister Julienne hurries Dr. Turner into the nursery: Dodger’s baby is having a seizure. They quickly lower her temperature, which helps stop the seizure, but it’s clear that the poor kiddo is also experiencing withdrawal symptoms.
Sister Julienne: Ugh, she knew what she was doing, that’s why she avoided appointments and wouldn’t breastfeed. Do we have to give this kid opiates?
Dr. Turner: I’m not sure what else we can do. But I have zero idea what to do about dosage or frequency — I’ve never seen this before.
Across town, Sister Frances tries to psych both herself and her patient up for the breech birth. It’s not that different!
Breech Mum: A butt is pretty different from a head, but go off I guess!
Sister Frances: Don’t worry, you’re still going to push that baby out right here, we’re just going to guide you through it!
Breech Dad, back from the phonebooth: Uh, correction: you’re going to guide her through it. I couldn’t get through to Nonnatus, the line was busy!
Sister Frances:
Breech Mum: Wait so this isn’t usual?
Sister Frances, trying to convince herself: Breech births are fairly normal, and they’re nothing to be scared of!
Breech Mum: But are YOU scared? You know what, your hand isn’t shaking, so I trust you: you got this.
Sister Frances snaps into action, telling Breech Dad to go warm up some towels, bring back chairs, and put on a gown: he’s going to help out. She tells her patient to push hard, wraps the baby up in a warm towel, and once the head has had time to reorient in the birth canal, Breech Mum pushes the baby right out. Yay! Two down, two to go!
Back at the maternity home, Shelagh and Mother Mildred have just arrived with plates of dinner when Sister Hilda appears and explains that Sister Julienne’s patient (the one with the swollen ankles) will have to deliver on the ward, as Rise and Grind is already in the delivery room. Shelagh, realizing she might be needed, goes to change, followed closely by Mother Mildred. First stop: Dodger’s baby. Mother Mildred has seen babies born like this many times, and tells Shelagh and Dr. Turner that May was actually one of them, to their horror.
Dr. Turner: We never knew! No one told us!
Mother Mildred: It’s in her past, just like it’ll be in this one’s past. I know exactly how to treat this kiddo.
Shelagh: I want to do it; I’ll hold her so she’s not alone.
Mother Mildred: It’s going to be hard, but it’s an honorable task. Now look, we’re going to need to sedate this baby, and then eventually transfer her to the children’s hospital.
Dr. Turner: It’s so busy over there I can’t even get the consultant on the phone.
Mother Mildred: Well for tonight I’ll advise, we can send her tomorrow.
Trixie, poking her head in: Sorry, Dr. Turner, I need you with Rise and Grind; the delivery is taking too long.
Shortly thereafter, Dr. Turner comes into the waiting room to grab Timothy: they’re going to need to use forceps, and he correctly assumes that his son will want to observe. Meanwhile, Shelagh talks with Dodger: they’re going to have to contact child services.
Shelagh: It’s about doing what’s best for your baby.
Dodger: I know about child services. My mother was an alcoholic; I can’t even be near a pub now because of the smell.
Shelagh: Did child services put you into care?
Dodger: I wanted them to, but they didn’t; my mother needed me, and I was good at being needed. She died of a hemorrhage when I was 11. I should have done better than my mother, not worse. Can I hold my baby?
Shelagh: Of course.
Dodger: She’s never gonna smell anything bad on me.
While Dr. Turner delivers Rise and Grind’s baby with forceps (and poor Timothy gets the absolute shock of his life when actually faced with the realities of childbirth), Sister Hilda coaches Puffy Ankles in the other room. Finally, after much pushing and an episiotomy, Rise and Grind’s baby is out, but when the baby doesn’t immediately cry, Dr. Turner starts clearing it’s airway. Unfortunately, that isn’t the only emergency happening at the maternity home: on the ward, Sister Julienne brings gas in for Puffy Ankles only to notice that she’s started to hemorrhage. Sister Hilda immediately heads back into the delivery room, grabs Dr. Turner, who’s just cleared Rise and Grind’s baby’s airway, and brings him back. Together, they coach Puffy Ankles to deliver her baby as quickly as possible, while Sister Julienne calls the ambulance. When the baby arrives, he’s in shock, so Sister Julienne quickly takes him to administer oxygen. As Dr. Turner delivers the placenta and works to stop the bleeding, Puffy Ankles grabs Sister Hilda’s hand and begs her to start praying. It’s very intense and scary.
Later, while Mother Mildred tries to enjoy a moment of silence with Sister Monica Joan (both of whom have fled the parlor, overrun as it is by sad Turner children), and Sister Julienne and Sister Hilda clean up the blood in the ward, Dodger finally talks with her husband about her addiction.
Dodger: I was terrified you’d find out. That anyone would find out.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: What did you think I’d do?
Dodger: Stop loving me? Hate me, like you do your brother?
Dodger’s Mobster Husband, surprisingly self-aware: Hating him is easier than missing him. And I don’t want to miss you.
Dodger: They’re trying to get me treatment.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: When you get back, things will be better.
Dodger: You need to prepare yourself for the fact that it might just be the two of us: we can’t know if the authorities will take the baby.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: Well I don’t listen to the authorities!
Dodger: Now we both have to, and it’s my fault. I’m sorry.
Dodger’s Mobster Husband: I would do anything for you, and I’d do even more for her. You need to be able to say the same, so you have to get clean. We need you.
Dodger: Well being needed is what I am BEST at, so that actually works out.
Need a break from very intense emotion? We get it, in the form of Mother Mildred giving an absolutely masterful reading of A Christmas Carol, and then, even better, Dr. Turner telling Shelagh the good news that while both Puffy Ankles and her baby needed blood transfusions, they both will recover. Dodger’s baby will also be headed to the children’s hospital that night, to slowly be weaned off the heroin. All four holiday babies sorted, all of our midwives and doctors return to Nonnatus and sneak into the parlor to hear Mother Mildred’s recitation.
The next morning dawns, and in case you forgot in all that perilous childbirth, it’s time for a wedding!
Phyllis arrives in her shared room with Lucille, which is a shock to Lucille, because Phyllis was supposed to be using the bathroom: it was her turn! Where was she?
Phyllis: It’s a surprise! Wait, what’s this wrapped present on my bed?
Lucille: Open it :)
As you might have guessed, it’s the pearls, with a beautiful note telling Phyllis to wear them at the wedding in honor of Barbara. Did it suddenly get super dusty in anyone else’s house when this happened?
Downstairs, Trixie brings the corsages inside, which look fresh because she kept them in the outhouse overnight. I know this was a temperature control thing, but I sure hope no one tells Lucille. And speaking of things we don’t want to tell Lucille, Boots arrives with bad news: Cyril’s boss just called, and the promised wedding car? It broke down. Next door, Reggie and Fred arrive to check on Cyril. As you might have guessed, that favor Cyril asked earlier was for Reggie to be his best man. Reggie, of course, takes his duties seriously, and carefully adjusts Cyril’s corsage so it’s on straight. Fred, seeing that the two are all set, leaves them at it.
Now if YOU were Trixie Franklin, and you found out that the nice car for the wedding was broken, who would you call? If you guessed the only redeemable rich man on television, A for Effort, you’d be right, and he arrives just in time, even offering to wear a chauffeur cap if Trixie requests it.
No time for me to make a joke about THAT, because inside, Lucille is making her grand entrance down the staircase, and she looks absolutely breathtaking. Fred helps her make her way outside, and at the church, while Cyril waits excitedly at the altar, Lucille is greeted outside by a group of kiddos in matching outfits.
Lucille: Phyllis, who are these children?
Phyllis: You told me bridal attendants should have meaning. These kids are all babies you’ve delivered since you arrived in Poplar.
Me: SHUT UP (affectionate).
Lucille, trying not to cry: I remember all of them.
Phyllis: Their moms made these outfits, and every single one of them said they’d never forget you.
And then Lucille heads inside and we have an absolutely beautiful wedding between these two absolutely beautiful (inside and out) people. Everyone tears up. It’s the best. Later, at the reception, the cake procession is just as cool as it sounded when Mrs. Wallace explained it earlier (and Sister Hilda even brings hers up too). Everyone has an amazing time, lovingly photographed by Phyllis. And after, the newlyweds walk home together, just the two of them, to embark on their married life together.
Well folks, as holiday specials go, we really couldn’t ask for more: love, leeches, mobsters, and maybe even a record-breaking number of deliveries! What will they think of next? Thankfully, we won’t have to wait too long to find out: Call The Midwife season 11 will be on our screens in March. Until then, may your winter be full of as much love, warmth, and friendship as we saw on tonight’s episode.
