instructions to the letter by not giving him another thought until several hours later.
By the time the doctor arrived, I knew we had a problem. Flora’s pains were coming regularly and close but the baby was not making progress. Something was terribly wrong and I looked up with relief when the doctor entered. He shooed Crea out to get clean cloths and hot water but asked me to stay, then did a quick, capable examination, finally standing to say grimly, “There’s no time to get her to a hospital. I’ll have to take the baby by incision. If I don’t, we’ll lose them both.” Much later it was clear he would be at least half right. Life came into the world and life left it, all within a matter of minutes.
Crea took one look at my face as I followed the doctor out into the hallway and put a hand to her mouth. “What is it? What’s happened? I heard the baby cry.”
“Yes, it’s a boy, but Flora’s gone.” My voice cracked, and I had to swallow hard to keep my composure.
“She can’t be.” Crea reached for the handle of the door to enter and see for herself, but I put a hand to her wrist.
“Don’t go in, Crea. Not now. We couldn’t save her. If the doctor hadn’t done what he did, they both would have died. You know Flora was weak to start with, not eating as she should, no matter how much we scolded or encouraged her, and then she lost so much blood. We couldn’t save her,” I repeated.
“She never wanted that baby. She said she couldn’t wait to have a life again and she couldn’t wait to be done with it all, she said. It’s not fair. It shouldn’t have ended this way.” Tears of fury pooled in Crea’s eyes. “She was only fourteen and she learned her lesson. She had her life all planned out.”
“I know.”
“It shouldn’t have ended this way.” The words came out a wrenching cry that caused me to put both my hands to her shoulders.
“It shouldn’t have, but it did, Crea, and it can’t be undone. Now go tell Matron what happened, and let her know we have a newborn who needs a mother. I won’t lose them both.”
Only after Hilda took the baby downstairs, after Flora’s body had been taken away and the room stripped and cleaned, did I think of how worried Grandmother must be. I called from the telephone in the downstairs hallway.
“Hilda Cartwright called me earlier,” Grandmother told me, her voice sounding reedy and foreign through the earpiece. “What happened?” After I told her, she said calmly, “I’ll send Levi for you.” I started to speak but she continued, “Don’t argue, Johanna. It’s very late and you’ve done all you can do there. Hilda Cartwright has a great deal of experience with newborns, and I’d wager the wheels for finding that baby a home are already turning. Eulalie can keep an eye on the child through what’s left of the night. Levi’s on his way.” She hung up, decision made, protest useless, Grandmother at her most authoritative.
At the moment, tired and sad and angry, I was glad someone else was making the decisions. All I could think of was pretty Flora, who wanted to dance and sing and live, especially live, and now was in a wagon on her way to the morgue.
Before I left, I went upstairs where several of the inhabitants, who had congregated on the landing, slowly drifted back to their shared rooms. Betsy, pregnant and alone herself, stared at me out of a pale face, something so vulnerable about her that I put an arm around her shoulders.
“Is she really dead?” Shock and a greater fear gave Betsy’s voice a breathy quality.
“Yes, but don’t make yourself sick with worry. Flora was the exception. There’s every reason to expect that your delivery will be perfectly normal. You’re healthy and stronger than she was.”
Betsy gave a weak smile before she went into her room. “Don’t seem right, though, does it?” she asked rhetorically. “It ain’t like we make these babies all by ourselves, so why should it just be us that
By the time the doctor arrived, I knew we had a problem. Flora’s pains were coming regularly and close but the baby was not making progress. Something was terribly wrong and I looked up with relief when the doctor entered. He shooed Crea out to get clean cloths and hot water but asked me to stay, then did a quick, capable examination, finally standing to say grimly, “There’s no time to get her to a hospital. I’ll have to take the baby by incision. If I don’t, we’ll lose them both.” Much later it was clear he would be at least half right. Life came into the world and life left it, all within a matter of minutes.
Crea took one look at my face as I followed the doctor out into the hallway and put a hand to her mouth. “What is it? What’s happened? I heard the baby cry.”
“Yes, it’s a boy, but Flora’s gone.” My voice cracked, and I had to swallow hard to keep my composure.
“She can’t be.” Crea reached for the handle of the door to enter and see for herself, but I put a hand to her wrist.
“Don’t go in, Crea. Not now. We couldn’t save her. If the doctor hadn’t done what he did, they both would have died. You know Flora was weak to start with, not eating as she should, no matter how much we scolded or encouraged her, and then she lost so much blood. We couldn’t save her,” I repeated.
“She never wanted that baby. She said she couldn’t wait to have a life again and she couldn’t wait to be done with it all, she said. It’s not fair. It shouldn’t have ended this way.” Tears of fury pooled in Crea’s eyes. “She was only fourteen and she learned her lesson. She had her life all planned out.”
“I know.”
“It shouldn’t have ended this way.” The words came out a wrenching cry that caused me to put both my hands to her shoulders.
“It shouldn’t have, but it did, Crea, and it can’t be undone. Now go tell Matron what happened, and let her know we have a newborn who needs a mother. I won’t lose them both.”
Only after Hilda took the baby downstairs, after Flora’s body had been taken away and the room stripped and cleaned, did I think of how worried Grandmother must be. I called from the telephone in the downstairs hallway.
“Hilda Cartwright called me earlier,” Grandmother told me, her voice sounding reedy and foreign through the earpiece. “What happened?” After I told her, she said calmly, “I’ll send Levi for you.” I started to speak but she continued, “Don’t argue, Johanna. It’s very late and you’ve done all you can do there. Hilda Cartwright has a great deal of experience with newborns, and I’d wager the wheels for finding that baby a home are already turning. Eulalie can keep an eye on the child through what’s left of the night. Levi’s on his way.” She hung up, decision made, protest useless, Grandmother at her most authoritative.
At the moment, tired and sad and angry, I was glad someone else was making the decisions. All I could think of was pretty Flora, who wanted to dance and sing and live, especially live, and now was in a wagon on her way to the morgue.
Before I left, I went upstairs where several of the inhabitants, who had congregated on the landing, slowly drifted back to their shared rooms. Betsy, pregnant and alone herself, stared at me out of a pale face, something so vulnerable about her that I put an arm around her shoulders.
“Is she really dead?” Shock and a greater fear gave Betsy’s voice a breathy quality.
“Yes, but don’t make yourself sick with worry. Flora was the exception. There’s every reason to expect that your delivery will be perfectly normal. You’re healthy and stronger than she was.”
Betsy gave a weak smile before she went into her room. “Don’t seem right, though, does it?” she asked rhetorically. “It ain’t like we make these babies all by ourselves, so why should it just be us that
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