Chapter 43
Unexpected Labor

Doc Shoemaker figured Katie would be due to give birth around the last of April or first of May. He said Almeda would probably follow about two weeks later. So both of them were mighty big around the middle by now and were moving slow, with Pa and Uncle Nick worrying and fussing over them every minute. At the picnic it seemed the women talked about nothing else to Almeda. Katie stayed home. Almeda was still spry enough and went into town every other day or so, but she also stayed in bed longer and took lots of rests. Pa saw to that.

Tuesday night in the second week of April, the doctor had been out that afternoon, had seen both Almeda and Katie, and had left with a smile on his face. “Won’t be long now, Drummond,” he’d said from his buggy. “Everything looks good. Both your wife and sister-in-law are healthy and coming along just fine.”

In the middle of the night I was awakened by a loud banging on the door and shouts outside. I bolted awake and knew in an instant it was Uncle Nick. And from the sound of his voice I knew something was wrong.

I jumped out of bed and put on my robe, but by the time I got out of my bedroom Pa and Almeda were already at the door and talking to Uncle Nick.

“It’s Katie!” he said frantically. “Something’s wrong, Drum—she’s yelling and carrying on—”

“I’ll go right up there,” Almeda said as she started to throw a coat around her robe, then sat down to put on her boots.

“You ain’t in no condition to—” Pa began.

“Don’t even say it, Drummond,” she interrupted. “This is a woman’s finest hour, and the hour of greatest need.”

“But you gotta take care of—”

“I will take complete care of myself,” she said. “Katie needs me now, and I am not going to sit here and do nothing. Are you ready, Nick?” she added, standing up and pulling her coat tightly around her. The door was still open and a cold wind was blowing right into the cabin.

Uncle Nick just turned around and hurried back outside into the night. “She’s in terrible pain, Almeda!” he said.

“Then you go on ahead, Nick! Tell her I’m coming. And put water on the stove!” Uncle Nick had already disappeared toward the bridge across the creek.

“I’ll need the good lantern, Drummond,” Almeda said, “so the wind won’t blow it out.”

“I’ll get it lit,” replied Pa as he went toward the fireplace. “Then I’ll take you up there.”

“You must go for Doctor Shoemaker,” objected Almeda.

“I ain’t gonna let you walk up there at night alone. You fall, and we’d have two women in trouble in their beds! Corrie,” Pa said turning to me. “Go see if Zack’s awake, and get him in here pronto.”

By the time I got back into the room with Zack, who was still half asleep, Pa had the lantern burning bright.

“Zack, you gotta ride over and get the Doc, you hear me, boy!”

“Yes, Pa.”

“We need him fast!”

“I’ll bring him, Pa.”

“Corrie, you get out there and saddle up—let’s see, who’s fastest in the dark, Raspberry or Dandy?”

“At night, probably Dandy, Pa,” said Zack.

“Then Corrie, you get to saddling Dandy. Zack, you get dressed and get going!”

Then he turned to the open door, holding the lantern in his left hand while Almeda took hold of his right, and the two of them walked out as quickly as they could to follow Uncle Nick.

In another five minutes, Zack was off, and the sound of Dandy’s hoofbeats died in a moment. Suddenly I was left alone. I stoked up the fire with a couple of fresh logs, and lit another lantern. Then I went into the girls’ room and woke up Emily, who was already stirring from the noise.

“Emily,” I said, “Katie’s in trouble. Pa and Almeda are up there already, and Zack’s gone for the doctor. I’m going too.”

“Should I come, Corrie?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Emily,” I said. “There probably isn’t anything we can do to help, but I’ve gotta know if Katie’s all right. You stay here with the others, and if they need us, I’ll come and get you.”

I was glad Pa had gone with Almeda! A storm had blown in while we’d been sleeping, and the wind was howling fiercely. I had trouble keeping my lantern from blowing out.

By the time I arrived at Uncle Nick’s cabin, it seemed like an hour had already passed! Things were happening fast and I could feel the tension the minute I walked in. Pa stood at the pot-bellied stove watching a kettle of water that was nearly boiling. Alongside, a pot of coffee was brewing. Uncle Nick paced around with a horrified look on his face. I’d never seen him like that before—so helpless, so concerned, wanting to help yet looking like a lost little boy who didn’t know what to do. Even though it was his house and his baby being born, it looked like he felt out of place.

Both of them glanced at me as I came in but hardly took any other notice. Just as I closed the door I heard a scream from the other room. Uncle Nick spun around. “Oh God!” he cried. He took a couple of quick steps toward the bedroom, then stopped. Pa went over and put an arm around Uncle Nick’s shoulder, and from the slight movement of his lips, I knew he was praying hard.

Oh God, I breathed silently, whatever’s going on, I ask you to be close to Katie and take care of her. And Uncle Nick too.

“Anything I can do, Pa?” I said.

He gave me a wan smile that showed he appreciated my being there. “Could you check on Erich? He’s sleeping in the other room,” he answered. “And pray that the Doc’ll get here in a hurry.”

Almeda came in from the bedroom. She was so obviously pregnant, walking with a bit of a waddle, and her face was a little pale. But otherwise you’d have thought she was the doctor! Still wearing her robe, she had her sleeves rolled up. Her hair was loose and hanging all out of place. And you could see the perspiration on her forehead. She looked like she’d been on the job working with Katie for an hour already.

She came up to Uncle Nick and attempted a smile. “You have nothing to worry about, Nick,” she said. “The baby’s just a few weeks early, that’s all.”

“Why’s she crying out and screaming then?” said Uncle Nick, still looking frantic.

“That’s what labor is like, Nick,” she answered. “You weren’t here when Erich was born, were you?”

“No, you and the Doc made me and Drum get outta here.”

“And this is exactly why,” said Almeda, smiling again. “It can be harder on the husband, who’s fretting and stewing in the other room, than for the woman herself.”

“But is Katie . . . is she all right?”

“Of course. She is fine. Labor is a long and painful process, Nick. It hurts, and sometimes we can’t help crying out. It might not be a bad idea again for you and Drum to go down—”

Before she could finish another shriek came from the other room. A horrified look filled Uncle Nick’s eyes. You could tell the sound pierced right through to his heart.

“It’s another contraction!” said Almeda, turning to return to Katie. “Drummond, why don’t you take Nick down to our place. And take little Erich with you.”

“We oughta at least wait till the Doc’s here.”

“We’ll be fine. Corrie, come with me.”

Nick bundled up little Erich, still half-asleep despite all the commotion, and he and Pa took the lantern and started down the hill to our house.

I followed Almeda into the bedroom. Katie lay there with only a sheet over her. She yelled out again just as we came in. I was frightened, but Almeda walked straight over to the bed and took Katie’s hand.

“Go around the bed, Corrie,” she said to me. “Take her other hand so she has something to squeeze. It helps with the pain.”

I did as she said.

Katie was breathing hard, her face wet and white. Her eyes were closed and a look of excruciating agony filled her face. Just as I took hold of her, she cried out again and lurched up in the bed. She grabbed on to my hand like a vise and held it hard as she pulled herself forward. The pain lasted ten or fifteen seconds, then she began to relax and lay back down, her face calming, her lungs breathing deeply. Still she held my hand, but not as hard. Slowly she opened her eyes a crack, glanced feebly at the two of us, managed a thin smile, then closed her eyes again. It was the first smile either of us had had from her in a long time.

Almeda left the bedside and wrung out a towel that had been soaking in a bowl of hot water. She pulled back the sheet and laid it over Katie’s stomach just below where the baby was.

“Corrie,” she said, “we need some more hot water. Go in the other room and fill this bowl from the kettle on the stove.”

“That feels good,” I heard Katie murmur as I left the room. “Thank you, Almeda,” she added, and then all was quiet.

I got the hot water and went back into the bedroom. Katie was resting peacefully for the moment. Almeda sat by the bedside holding her hand. The look on my face must have been one of anxiety, because Almeda spoke to me as if she were answering a question I hadn’t voiced.

“Don’t worry, Corrie. This is just going to take some time, and Katie’s not done hurting and crying out. She needs us to be strong for her.”

Just then another contraction came. Katie winced and held her breath for a minute, then suddenly let it out in a long wail of pain. She lurched forward, holding her breath. I hurried over to the other side of the bed and took her hand. She grabbed on to it for dear life until the pain began to subside a minute or two later.

It went on like this for a while. In between contractions Almeda changed the hot towel while I wiped off Katie’s face with a cool cloth, went to get water, or did whatever else Almeda said. It must have been a half an hour or forty minutes before we heard the outside door open.

“It’s Doc Shoemaker,” a voice called out. Doc walked into the room, carrying his black leather case. “How is she?” he asked.

“The contractions are coming about every two or three minutes now, Doctor,” Almeda replied.

“She’s getting close then,” he said with a sigh that didn’t sound too enthusiastic. “Three weeks early,” he mumbled to himself as he approached the bed. “Hmm . . . don’t suppose that’s too worrisome in itself.”

I stood aside and the Doc spoke softly to Katie, then put his hand on her stomach where the baby was. He held it there a long time with a real serious expression on his face. He didn’t say anything.

Another contraction came. Katie winced and cried out. The doctor kept one hand on the baby and with the other took hers. I stood on the other side of the room watching. The Doc’s face was expressionless.

When the contraction finished and Katie fell back on her pillow, the Doc let go of her hand and again felt the baby, this time with both hands. Still I couldn’t tell a thing from his face. Almeda, too had her eyes fixed on him, looking for any sign that might betray what he was thinking.

He looked over at Almeda, then back down at Katie, then glanced up in my direction.

“Corrie, do you mind if I have a few words with Almeda,” he said, “alone?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll go put some more water on the stove.”

I left the bedroom, wondering what the matter was. I scooped out some water from the big bucket Uncle Nick had pumped up from the stream and added it to the kettle sitting steaming on the stove. Just as I was putting another log or two on the fire, I heard Katie cry out again. It wasn’t quite as loud as before, but the tone sounded so painful, more like a wail than a scream. It shot straight into my heart and a shiver went through me. I heard the Doc’s voice too, though I couldn’t make out anything being said. I hurried and shoved the wood into the stove. Then I tried to find something else to keep me busy, but there wasn’t anything to do but pace around the floor.

Another scream came from the bedroom. It had been less than a minute since the last one! I was getting worried, and I wished they’d call me back in instead of making me wait outside.

Almost the instant the cries and sounds stopped, the bedroom door opened. It was Almeda. Her face was pale.

“Corrie, go get your uncle.”

“Is everything—”

“Just get Nick, Corrie,” she said. “Get him now!”

I didn’t wait for any more explanations. I turned around and ran from the house, hearing another mournful cry from Katie just as I shut the door. I was halfway back to our place and stumbling along the path beside the stream before I realized I’d forgotten both a lantern and my coat. I would have known the way blindfolded—and I might as well have been because of the dark! The wind was still howling. Finally I saw the faint glimmer of light from one of our windows. I crossed the bridge, still running, and ran straight up to the house, tore the door open, and ran inside.

“They want you, Uncle Nick!” I said, all out of breath.

“Is the baby born?” he asked, jumping up and throwing on his coat.

“I don’t know. They just said to get you quick.”

He was already out the door at a run.

“What is it, Corrie?” Pa asked.

“I don’t know, Pa. They made me leave the bedroom, then Almeda told me to go fetch Uncle Nick.”

He had his coat on now too, then grabbed the lantern and headed out the door after Uncle Nick. I followed, running after him, although the bobbing light ahead of me got farther and farther away as we made our way up the trail along the creek.

By the time I reached Uncle Nick and Aunt Katie’s place, I was breathing hard. The door to the cabin was open, and Doc Shoemaker was standing in the doorway. Nick was trying to get by into the house but the Doc was holding on to him trying to talk to him.

“Not yet, Nick!” he said. “Give her a few minutes.”

I didn’t see Almeda. Pa was standing beside Uncle Nick. He saw me coming and stretched out his arm to put around me. I came up close and he drew me to him tight, but just kept looking at Uncle Nick.

“I gotta go to her!” said Uncle Nick frantically. “I gotta know if she’s—”

“She’s fine, I tell you, Nick. But she’s just been through something awful, and you must let her—”

“Get outta my way, Doc!”

“Please, Nick, just wait for two or three minutes until you calm—”

“I ain’t waiting for nothing!” said Uncle Nick. He pushed the doctor aside and ran inside.

“Nick, please!” Doc Shoemaker called after him. But it was too late. Uncle Nick was through the door and the tromping of his heavy boots thudded across the floor toward the bedroom.

The doctor sighed, looked at Pa with a helpless expression, then followed slowly after Uncle Nick.

“What is it, Pa?” I said finally, feeling a great fear rising up inside me.

“The baby’s dead, Corrie,” he answered. I’d never heard such a sound of grief in his voice in my life. He squeezed me tight with his arm again. I felt the sobs tugging at my breast even before the tears came to my eyes. Pa knew what I was feeling. I knew he had tears in his eyes too, even in the darkness, even without looking up into his face. I just knew.

Slowly we walked inside. Pa closed the door. The next moment Almeda emerged from the bedroom. Before she got the door shut behind her, I heard the sound of the doctor’s voice again, and Nick’s. Uncle Nick was crying.

Almeda walked toward us. She was very pale, her face covered with sweat, with splotches of blood on her robe. Her eyes met Pa’s and they looked at each other for a few seconds, almost as if they were wondering in the silence whether something like this was in store for them in the near future.

Then Almeda glanced at me, and gave me a thin smile. Pa put his arm around her and Almeda embraced us both. The three of us held on to each other for a long time. I knew Almeda was crying, too.

“God, oh God!” Pa said after about a minute. “They need your help now more than they ever have. Be a strength to them.”

“Yes, Lord!” Almeda breathed in barely more than a whisper.

Again they were silent. Slowly Pa released me and led Almeda to a chair and made her sit down. He turned toward the kitchen and found a towel, dipped it in the bucket of cold water, then gently began wiping Almeda’s face and forehead with it.

She sat back, closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply.

In another minute Doc Shoemaker came back from the bedroom. He walked over to Pa.

“Drum,” he said softly. “You’ve got yourself a mighty brave woman there. But she’s in no condition for all this. This has taxed her more than I like. You get her home and into some fresh things and to bed.”

“Yes, Doc.”

“Then you send one of your kids—Zack or Corrie, or if you want you can go yourself—but one of you go into town and get Mrs. Gianini. You’ll have to rouse her, but she’ll come right out when you tell her I need her. She’ll spend the night with Katie and help me clean up and get the baby ready for burying.”

“You need any more help, Doc?” Pa asked.

“She’ll know what we need, Drummond. Don’t you worry about anything but that wife of yours. She’s put in a hard night’s work. If we need anything, I’ll get one of your girls. As soon as things are in order here, I’ll come down and check on Almeda.”

“I’ll be fine, Doc Shoemaker,” said Almeda softly.

“I will check on you anyway. And, Drummond,” he added, again to Pa, “fix me some place to spend the night. The barn will be fine. I want to stay close.”

“You can have my bed,” I said.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” replied the Doc. “I appreciate it, Corrie. But I’m sure I’ll be able to catch a little sleep anywhere!”

Pa helped Almeda get slowly to her feet. Then we began our way home, both of us helping her so she wouldn’t stumble in the dark. It was a slow walk, but within half an hour Almeda was in her own bed and sleeping peacefully.