Hoping For A Miracle
963 Words
The physician arrived, took one look at Jane, and summoned the midwife. The midwife bustled in and quickly examined Jane.
"This child will certainly be born this day," the midwife said.
"But it's not due for weeks," Jane replied, unable to disguise the panic in her voice.
"No matter. Your body has already begun the process of giving birth."
Jane began to cry, and Guilford was there right away, stroking her back and soothing her.
"You must leave now," the midwife told him sharply. "It isn't fit for a man to witness what pertains to a woman."
"Please don't go, Guilford," Jane begged.
"I will not abandon my wife in the state she is in now," Guilford said flatly.
"If I say that you must leave, then you must do so immediately," the midwife insisted.
"So will you then force me to leave?" Guilford stood to his full height of over six feet and crossed his arms. "Force me, then."
The midwife glared angrily at Guilford. "Very well, then. But you must stay out of my way and not interfere with this child's birth in any way whatsoever."
"On my honor," Guilford muttered coldly.
Jane grimaced in pain as another contraction began, and Guilford took hold of both of her hands and looked into her eyes.
"Hold onto me, love," he said softly. "Look into my eyes and take deep breaths. Don't think about anything else but breathing."
The contraction ended and Jane sighed with relief. She rested her head on Guilford's shoulder and he stroked her hair. Within minutes she grimaced again as the next contraction began to build up.
"Just relax. You're doing fine," Guilford told her.
Several hours later, Jane began to feel the uncontrollable urge to bear down.
"Dear God, please, please let my child be born alive," she prayed.
The midwife examined her and told her to bear down with the next contraction. She did, and a few pushes later, a tiny body slid from her own.
Nobody said a word as the midwife held the limp, dusky blue body in her hands. The child was completely motionless and made no sound at all. Jane felt her heart sink. The midwife began to vigorously rub the infant between both her hands, one hand on its back and the other on its stomach. The newborn made several small mewing noises like those of a newborn kitten, and its skin tone changed from dusky blue to dusky rose.
"Thank you, God," Jane cried.
The midwife continued to massage the newborn until its cries became slightly stronger. Then she cleaned the baby, wrapped it in a piece of cloth, and gently laid it on Jane's breast.
"She's a wee, dainty little girl," the midwife said.
"Oh, Bessie," Jane breathed. She cuddled her new daughter and examined her miniature but perfect features. Then she looked at Guilford and smiled.
"I love you, Jane," he said as he gently swept curls damp with perspiration back from her flushed face. He was enthralled by his tiny new daughter as well, and couldn't resist taking each of Bessie's tiny feet into his hand to examine her toes. Bessie opened her milky dark blue eyes for the first time and quietly examined her parents' faces.
The physician arrived shortly to examine Bessie, after which he looked at Guilford and Jane gravely.
"I have only rarely seen an infant this tiny survive. Of those that do, some have brains so badly damaged that they are little more than fools, and others are permanently crippled. I tell you this not to cause you distress but simply that I feel that you have the right to know. At this stage the most important concern is that her surroundings must be kept absolutely clean. She must also have a minimum of visitors, as even healthy people unknowingly transmitt illness."
Tears clouded Jane's eyes as she felt such an overwhelming love for her tiny new daughter that she could hardly bear it. She felt Guilford's hand slide into her own, and she grasped it tightly.
"I do so hope that God will allow us to keep her. I don't think that I could bear to lose her."
"I told you, Jane. She's a fighter, just like her mother. Isn't that right, Bessie?" Guilford smiled fondly at the infant, who gazed calmly back at him.
"She looks as if she actually understands what you're saying." Jane managed a small smile.
"Of course she does." Guilford offered his finger to Bessie, who clutched it in her tiny fist.
Bessie was at first too weak to nurse, so Jane expressed milk by hand into a cup and fed the tiny infant by dipping the tip of a folded handkerchief into the milk and holding it to the child's lips. Guilford thought of using a hollowed-out quill pen, which worked somewhat better.
Remembering what the physician had said about visitors, Jane found it a challenge to keep family members away, as everyone was so very concerned about Bessie. She wanted very badly to allow Grace to hold her, then realized that if she did, then it would only be fair to allow the other siblings the same priviledge, and although she knew that none of them would ever do anything to deliberately hurt the baby, the thought of the tiny infant in the hands of young Ambrose made her cringe.
Jane, having so recently recovered from smallpox, was still very weak herself as well. She slept much of the time, and Guilford had to rouse her and urge her to eat. He never left her side, and at night he slept with his arm protectively covering her while Bessie, too small for a regular cradle, slept in a tiny, well-cushioned wooden box at her side.
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