The Midwife's Tale (5 page)

Called to duty, Martha had no time to waste on relief. “I’m here to help you,” she assured her.

With no time to spare, she quickly issued orders that set the rest of the womenfolk into motion. Aunt Hilda headed toward the front door to secure Martha’s bag and the birthing stool while Dr. McMillan retreated back into the other room and abruptly left the cabin.

JoHannah filled a bowl with hot water and gathered up some towels. When Aunt Hilda returned, Melanie and Belinda helped to assemble the collapsible birthing stool while Martha removed her cape and bonnet and hung them on a peg by the front door.

When she heard what sounded like the doctor climbing into his carriage outside, she had second thoughts about his leav
ing. She opened the door and found him already seated in his carriage. The light from the cabin illuminated the scowl on his face, and she was tempted to simply wish him good riddance and close the door again.

Instead, duty to her patient took precedence over her personal feelings. She knew she had to salvage what she could from the disaster of their first encounter for Adelaide’s sake, and stepped outside. “Please. You shouldn’t leave. Not yet.”

His scowl deepened, creating deep crevices in his fleshy cheeks. “Mrs. Finch made her choice quite clear.”

“As is her right,” Martha gently reminded him, loath to let her personal interests put her patient’s well-being at risk. “We both know there are cases, even though they’re rare, where you will be summoned to a birth that develops complications I’m not trained to handle. Until I’m sure Adelaide can be safely delivered, I’m certain Daniel and Adelaide would both feel better just knowing you are here to help should . . . should that become necessary.”

She waited with bated breath for his reply. In ten years of practicing midwifery on her own, Martha had summoned Doc Beyer on occasion, usually to stitch up tears from the delivery, but she could actually count the number of those cases on her fingers. Sadly, she had attended four stillbirths. In only two cases had she lost the mother. Both times, she had summoned the doctor well ahead of time so he could perform emergency surgery and save the baby. If something did go horribly wrong tonight and Dr. McMillan went home now, he would never be able to return in time to save either Adelaide or her unborn child.

“Please stay,” she repeated when the doctor failed to respond to her earlier plea.

Either mollified now or satisfied he might yet be able to establish himself as the more qualified of the two of them, he
squared his shoulders, and his scowl disappeared into a smile that did not reach his eyes. “I shall wait,” he pronounced, rather formally given the circumstances.

She did not waste any energy by responding to the derision that laced his words. Instead, she merely returned to the cabin, where she removed her leather gloves and stored them in her cape pocket. She used the bowl of hot water to warm her hands and wash them, and finally rinsed them with rose water before proceeding directly to the bedchamber, where her patient lay very still beneath a thin sheet.

When Daniel stood up as if to leave, Martha waved him to stay. “I expect we’ll be needing your help,” she said softly.

Under his watchful gaze, she laid her hand atop the sheet covering Adelaide’s distended abdomen. With her brows knitted together, she carefully waited and gauged the strength of the next forcing pain and the position of the babe. When Carrie entered the room, Martha cocked her head toward her assistant. “How many hours since her groaning pains started?”

“Quite early this morning. I mean, yesterday morning. About four o’clock.”

“And the forcing pains?”

“Near six hours now. After Dr. McMillan bled her, she lost her waters. That was just before you arrived.”

Martha kept a reassuring smile on her face, both for Adelaide and Daniel, despite her growing concern. She had the courage and the confidence to set this birthing onto the right track. All she needed now was the confidence of her patient and her husband.

“Daniel, I’d like to be alone with Adelaide. Just for a few minutes,” she added when he pursed his lips. “Then we’ll need your help.”

Yet another forcing pain drew a sharp cry from Adelaide’s
lips. When she began to twist beneath the sheets, Martha shoved all tact aside. “Now, Daniel. Leave now! Carrie, come here. You, too, Belinda. I’ll need you both to help me. Aunt Hilda, please shut the door and keep everyone else out till we’re done. And get that birthing stool ready!”

Like the seasoned assistants they were, the women did exactly as they had been told to do. Once the door closed, Martha took Adelaide’s hand and squeezed gently. “I know you’re frightened and you’re hurting something fierce, but I need you to listen carefully and do exactly as I say.”

Adelaide nodded with tears streaming down her face.

Martha wiped them away and patted her cheek. “I need to turn the babe. It’s going to hurt. A lot. But once I help this little one get situated right, he’ll be in your arms very quickly.”

“He won’t die. Please promise he won’t die,” the girl pleaded.

“The good Lord willing, that’s not going to happen,” she responded. “Now, you just relax. Let me do all the work.”

Her voice sounded calmer than she actually felt. She had faith in her ability to safely deliver this babe, even with Adelaide weakened by the doctor’s ill-advised treatment, and quickly offered a prayer of gratitude for her catnap so she would have the strength she needed now.

While Carrie and Belinda each took a position on either side of the bed, Martha donned her birthing apron, rolled up her sleeves, lubricated her right hand and forearm, and approached her patient. After the women rolled back the sheets from the bottom of the bed and draped them just below Adelaide’s ribs, Martha nodded for them to take a firm hold on the patient’s bent legs.

She tugged Adelaide’s nightdress up to her knees and laid her left hand atop Adelaide’s abdomen. Gently, so very gently, she eased her right hand, and then her forearm, into the birth canal.
“Easy. Breathe deeply. That’s right,” she murmured. Pleased to find the cervix fully dilated, she quickly confirmed her suspicions that the babe was in a breech position. After taking a deep breath, she nodded again to her assistants.

Talking softly and calmly, she explained what she was doing as she worked, although Adelaide was probably too distressed to be able to fully listen or understand. She never raised her voice. Even when Adelaide began screaming, Martha remained detached and calm, totally focused on turning this child.

It took every ounce of strength she possessed and called for great patience. As she worked, the memory of her grandmother, standing by her side offering encouragement, guided and sustained her, even after Adelaide swooned from the pain.

By the time Martha had finished, her entire body ached. A heavy sheen of perspiration covered her brow. Her arm was covered with bloody fluids, but her mind was already racing ahead. Her patient, roused from her swoon, lay quiet for the moment. “Well done. Well done!” she crooned. “Let’s get this babe born.”

While her assistants hurried to the door, Martha rinsed her hands again as well as her arm. “Set the birthing stool there. At the foot of the bed. Facing the door. Don’t forget to lay the birthing sheets beneath it,” she reminded them.

When she spied Daniel standing just outside the doorway, she smiled. “Come on in here. I want you to sit down on the birthing stool and brace your legs wide so Adelaide can sit on your lap and you can support her weight. Aunt Hilda, you’re going to help Daniel. Sit on the bed behind him.”

When they were both in position, she nodded her approval. “Daniel, lift your arms. That’s right. Now Aunt Hilda can reach through. Exactly. Melanie, as soon as I tell you, fetch the warming cloths. JoHannah, make sure that water is plenty warm and ready when I need it. Carrie, you’ll help me with Adelaide.”

As soon as Adelaide recovered from the next forcing pain, Martha and Carrie helped her out of bed and onto the birthing stool. Once she was safely seated on her husband’s lap, Aunt Hilda began to massage Adelaide’s abdomen. Standing on either side of the stool, Melanie and Belinda each faced Adelaide and held one of her hands.

With the babe now in the proper position and the forcing pains less than a minute apart, Martha knew birth was imminent. She knelt down on the floor in front of Adelaide and leaned back on her haunches. She spread a warming cloth across her lap and set her bag within reach.

When the next forcing pain began, she offered spirited encouragement while she reached underneath Adelaide’s nightdress and pressed the heel of her hand against the warm flesh just above the birth canal. “This time, really push. Brace your feet against the floor and push, Adelaide. Push!”

Groaning mightily, Adelaide clenched her teeth and pushed. Her effort inspired a flush that spread across her cheeks and perspiration that dotted her forehead.

“Good. Now again. Push!” Martha felt the baby’s head emerge, and her heart began to pound. “He’s coming. Good. We have a fine crown of hair on this babe. Indeed we do,” she crooned. “Now the shoulders. One good push . . . Yes. That’s a good mama!
Good!
”

The babe slid into her waiting arms. With practiced hands, she quickly pulled the baby from beneath his mother’s nightdress. She wiped the squalling newborn with the cloth on her lap, tied and cut the umbilical cord, and grinned up at the new parents. “You have a beautiful daughter,” she murmured as she wrapped the baby in a soft blanket.

Daniel’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A daughter?”

Adelaide chuckled. “A daughter! We have a daughter!”

As the parents discussed this obvious surprise, Martha stared at the perfectly formed babe. And in that instant, when she held that precious new life in her arms, awe nourished the famished seeds of her faith. Humbled to be the handmaiden who served the source of all life, and privileged to witness His glorious goodness, she let the tears of joy escape and flow down her cheeks.

With great reverence, she placed the baby girl into Carrie’s waiting arms. Anxious to complete the birthing so that the babe could be united once again with her mama, Martha did not have to wait long before Nature herself helped to make quick work of delivering the afterbirth.

To prevent the suction of air into Adelaide’s womb, which could lead to infection as well as make the grumbling pains that followed childbirth more severe, Martha pressed a warm cloth against the opening of the birth canal. Being careful to preserve the young mother’s modesty, she made sure her nightdress still curtained her ministrations. “Now we need to get you into bed,” she suggested.

Using Daniel’s strong arms for support, Adelaide managed to get back into bed, where she collapsed onto the mattress. Martha made sure the cloth remained in place while Carrie immediately placed the babe into her mother’s anxious arms.

As Martha watched the scene unfold, emotion choked her throat. The expression of pure joy on Adelaide’s face added a radiance that erased the fear as well as the pain she had endured. Instead of worry, elation danced in Daniel’s eyes. Then awe. The same awe that Martha had experienced only moments ago.

And then, with the same gentleness as a soft spring rain blessing a parched earth, a sense of peace descended upon the entire room.

Overwhelmed, Martha stood perfectly still, feeling both humbled and honored to bear witness to the miracle of new
life. Joy opened her troubled heart and gave her a troubling new insight into all she had experienced these past few months.

Ashamed by what she now understood about herself, she had to set her feelings aside. Adelaide still needed her. She asked Daniel to leave again and reassured him he could return soon. She waited until he had left the room before making good use of a second set of warming cloths Carrie had brought to the bedchamber. With great tenderness, Martha eased a cloth between Adelaide’s nightdress and laid it across her abdomen. She also wrapped warm cloths around each of Adelaide’s thighs to help ease the discomfort that typically followed childbirth, and replaced the cloth covering the birth canal with a new one.

Satisfied all was now done, she removed her dirtied apron and helped Adelaide into a fresh nightdress before drawing up the covers. She fluffed the pillow under Adelaide’s head and wiped her face with a fresh cloth. “You’re holding one of His most precious gifts, Adelaide. Love her and keep her within your heart. Always.”

Adelaide sighed, reached out, and squeezed Martha’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she whispered.

Martha managed to say “You’re welcome,” as memories of Victoria’s birth seventeen years ago threatened her composure. She cleared her throat and smiled. “Have you and Daniel picked out a name for her?”

“Thomas Adam, for both of our fathers.” She giggled. “Daniel was certain we’d have a son. Glory be, there hasn’t been a girl born to his family in three generations.”

“Until now.”

Beaming, the new father reappeared and stood in the open doorway. He hesitated, then quickly rejoined his new family. “Glory. That sounds fitting for this little angel girl. Glory Adelaide Finch,” he pronounced. His gaze locked with his wife’s.

She smiled. “Glory. I like that, too.”

When a yawn kept her from adding anything more, Martha summoned Aunt Hilda back from the other room. “I believe this new mama could use some rest.”

The elderly woman winked. “And some hot tea. It’s already steeping. Carrie’s going to bring some for both of us as soon as it’s ready. Now, off with both of you,” she insisted as she ushered Daniel and Martha to the door. “Time to celebrate. The groaning party’s already started. I’ll stay with Adelaide a bit till she falls asleep, then I’ll join you.”

She closed the bedchamber door before either of them could mount an argument.

Unlike earlier, animated chattering filled the main room of the cabin. With the exception of Rosalind and Dr. McMillan, who reportedly had left abruptly after Glory’s birth when it was apparent both mother and baby were doing well, the women who had tended to Adelaide now sat around the table tackling plates filled with food prepared by the new mother during her early labor. The recent fall harvest had apparently been plentiful. Next to a platter of roasted ham, bowls of sweet peas, and lush ears of corn, a mountain of boiled carrots and potatoes still remained. Cinnamon floated atop bread pudding swimming in heavy cream. A pitcher of cider kept company with a jug of honey wine, Hilda’s customary contribution.