 Which is not a reason Major Banes does not feel prepared to deliver a baby?
SPATIAL DELIVERY BY RANDALL GARRETT Women on space station assignments shouldn't get pregnant. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1954. One thousand seventy-five miles above the wrinkled surface of Earth, a woman was in pain. There, high in the emptiness of space, Space Station One swung in its orbit. Once every two hours, the artificial satellite looped completely around the planet, watching what went on below. Outside its bright steel hull was the silence of the interplanetary vacuum; inside, in the hospital ward, Lieutenant Alice Britton clutched at the sheets of her bed in pain, then relaxed as it faded away. Major Banes was all smiles and cheer now, but he hadn't been that way five months ago. Your husband may be the finest rocket jockey in the Space Service, but that doesn't give him the right to come blasting up here on a supply rocket just to get you pregnant!" Alice had said: "I'm sure the thought never entered his mind, doctor. "But that was two and a half months ago! "Lieutenant Britton, it is my personal opinion that you need your head examined, and not by a general practitioner, either! The terrible pressure of a rocket landing would increase her effective body weight to nearly half a ton; an adult human being couldn't take that sort of punishment for long, much less the tiny life that was growing within her. Her pregnancy had never made her uncomfortable; the slow rotation of the wheel-shaped station about its axis gave an effective gravity at the rim only half that of Earth's surface, and the closer to the hub she went, the less her weight became. According to the major, the baby was due sometime around the first of September. And at a maximum of half of Earth gravity, you shouldn't weigh more than seventy pounds then. And then, only half an hour ago, a meteor had hit the radar room. The self-sealing walls had closed the tiny hole quickly, but even in that short time, a lot of air had gone whistling out into the vacuum of space. The depressurization hadn't hurt her too much, but the shock had been enough to start labor. There was nothing to worry about; she had absolute faith in the red-haired major. "Something wrong, doctor?" "Incubator," he said, without taking his eyes off the clock. "Incubator. We can't deliver a seven-month preemie without an incubator."
 He was not trained as a doctor
 He was not trained as a doctor  It was a surprise when Lt. Britton went into labor  His medical expertise was in other areas  He did not think he had all the proper equipment