Going back in that room would be hard. A beautiful baby and a happy couple normally brought Leah great joy, but today, with her insides scraped and sore, and no longer courting Ben, she dreaded holding the baby, knowing she could never have one of her own.
When she and Kyle reached the room, Matthew was holding the baby over his shoulder and patting her back.
“She didn’t suck well, but maybe she’s as tired as I am.” The love shining in Rachel’s eyes as she gazed at her husband and tiny daughter twisted Leah’s insides.
Not only would she never have a child of her own, she’d never have a husband. She wanted to turn away to hide the wetness in her eyes, but she pushed herself to do her duty.
“I’m sure she’ll do better later,” Leah reassured her. “Babies sometimes have weak sucking reflexes at first.”
The front door banged open, and Sharon rushed down the hall. She stopped in the doorway and assessed the room. “Looks like you managed a breech birth. So how’d everything go?”
Leah told her and added the important stats: “Emily Beth. Seven pounds, two ounces. Nineteen inches. Apgar nine at five minutes.”
“Good, good,” Sharon said. “Not sure why we’ve been having so many back-to-back deliveries, but you coped well.” She studied Kyle. “I see you made it, and I’m glad you had no need for an ambulance.”
Matthew broke in. “I had one on standby, just in case.”
“That was sensible,” Kyle told him. He turned to Sharon. “Leah did a wonderful job, very calm and professional.”
His words warmed Leah from head to toe. That was high praise coming from someone who’d insisted she call an ambulance.
“But,” he continued, “I still think it would be safer to deliver breech babies in a hospital. So many complications could have occurred.”
“But they didn’t,” Leah pointed out.
“There’s always a possibility they could. You might not be so lucky next time.”
“We don’t believe in luck. What happens is God’s will.”
The passion and concern shining in Kyle’s eyes flickered out, leaving behind bleakness. Leah longed to reach out to him, to assure him of God’s love. She had no idea how he had made it through his life without the assurance of God’s strength and the power of prayer.
With a brisk nod to everyone, Kyle said, “Congratulations, everyone, on a good delivery. I should get back to the office. I’m on call while the Hesses are away.”
“Thank you for coming,” Matthew said, and his wife echoed his words.
“I’m so glad you were here.” Leah hoped her words didn’t reveal anything beyond professional interest.
“Impressive delivery, Leah. Take care of yourself.” Kyle’s clipped words had the neutral, professional edge Leah had been trying to achieve, but the burning intensity in the glance he sent her way conveyed a different message. Leah sucked in a breath. With one brief look, he’d set her pulse quivering. Then he turned abruptly and exited, taking a part of her heart with him.
* * *
A frantic phone call sent Kyle rushing back to the Groffs’ house the following Thursday afternoon. Heavy, dark clouds hung low in the sky, and snowflakes pelted his head and jacket as he locked the office door.
A full-fledged storm trapped him in a snow globe of whiteness. He slid into the car, and turned on the windshield wipers as the snow grew heavier. Winds buffeted the car and whipped snow into eddies, lowering visibility, and Kyle fought to keep the car on a road he could barely see. Patches of black ice could be hidden under the drifts blanketing the roads.
Memories of that long-ago snowy night constricted his breathing. His chest ached and his eyes burned. He’d vowed never to drive in icy weather, but a baby’s life depended on him. He gripped the steering wheel and drove on.
Without actually being aware of it, he murmured a prayer over and over until it became a litany. Lord, please help me to get there safely, and watch over baby Emily.
He turned into the Groffs’ driveway, and the car slid down the hill.
With an audible sigh, he turned off the engine, which shuddered to a stop, and in the silence, he repeated the words he’d been saying. They echoed around him. He’d been praying? Was it a prayer if you didn’t directly intend to address God? If God had been listening, He’d already answered the first part of the prayer. Kyle had made it here.
This time, he directed the words heavenward. “If You’re listening, God, please protect and heal baby Emily.” Uncertain if his words had been heard, Kyle slid out of the car into the whirlwind of flakes and grabbed his bag from the trunk. Already almost eight inches had fallen, and gusts blew loose snow into drifts several feet tall. Frigid winds penetrated his overcoat, chilling his bones, and iced his cheeks as he rushed to the front door.
He knocked once to warn them he’d arrived, but because they’d insisted it was an emergency, he opened the door and entered. A murmur of voices came from the back bedroom. He headed that direction.
He stopped in the doorway, taken aback to see Leah.
Emily lay in Leah’s arms, limp and barely responsive. Kyle’s heart clenched. He wanted to elbow Leah out of the way and snatch the baby from her, but an internal voice urged him to wait.
Leah placed Emily on the makeshift changing table Rachel had created on the top of a low dresser. She unwrapped the newborn, undid her diaper, and sniffed. “I smell…” Her voice trembled.
“Ach, no.” Rachel squeezed her eyes shut. “We were afraid of that. My sister’s baby…”
Matthew met Leah’s gaze, his eyes fearful. “Is it—?”
Leah turned back to the baby and sniffed again. “I’m afraid so.” She glanced back at Matthew. “What time is it?”
He glanced at the small windup clock beside the bed. “Three thirty.”
“There’s still time,” Leah said. “We’ll have to hurry. The clinic closes at five.” Her fingers moved rapidly to change the little girl’s diaper and wrap her in a blanket. “Do you have more blankets?”
Matthew headed to a chest under the window. “How many do you need?”
“As many as you have.”
“What is going on here?” Kyle’s voice cracked around the room like a whip. He needed to take control of the situation. “I want to examine the baby.”
“There’s no time,” Leah insisted. “The faster we get her to the clinic, the sooner they can start feeding her the special formula.” She glanced over at him, her eyes begging him to understand.
But understand what? They all seemed to have come to a silent consensus on a diagnosis. “What do you think is wrong?”
“Her urine has the distinct odor of maple syrup. There’s no mistaking that smell. We have to get her to the clinic.”
MSUD. Maple syrup urine disease. Is that what Leah had smelled? But no clinic would be able to help with that. Rushing out the door into a snowstorm was foolish. No, it would be much worse than that. Downright dangerous. The roads were much too slippery for travel.
Kyle racked his brain to remember the fleeting lesson he’d had on MSUD in med school.
“Emily should be fine. We caught it fairly early.” Leah’s wan smile belied her comforting words. “They can do wonders at the clinic.”
What clinic were they talking about? The one where he’d taken Leah wouldn’t have the facilities to care for this inherited disease, common only to Mennonite children. Its effects were devastating. The poor baby.
Matthew’s gaze landed on Kyle. “Ach, it’s a blessing you’re here to drive us. We’ll get there much faster than in the buggy.”
“But I haven’t even examined the baby,” Kyle protested.
“We don’t have time for that,” Leah insisted. “The main symptom is the maple smell. Emily’s also lethargic, hasn’t been eating well, and has lost weight. We have to get her to the children’s clinic.”
What? They called him over here, didn’t give him a chance to check the child, and expected him to accept a midwife’s dia
gnosis and drive them to a clinic in a snowstorm. And he never drove on icy roads with anyone else in the car. Never. Not since…Kyle swallowed hard. But how could he refuse to take the baby to the clinic?
“But I can’t…” The words died on his lips at Leah’s pleading glance. She knew about his past. His whole life had been ruined by one patch of black ice.
But if he didn’t take this baby to the clinic, he’d be responsible for harming another baby. “Where are you taking her?” he asked Leah.
“To Strasburg. The Clinic for Special Children. They’ve done a lot of research on these hereditary diseases. If we get her there, they have a formula to help mitigate the symptoms.”
“If we don’t leave now,” Matthew’s panicked voice said behind him, “there’s a good possibility we won’t be able to get her there at all. This storm’s only going to get worse.”
“And the faster we get Emily to the clinic, the sooner she’ll get help.” Leah’s sympathetic glance assured him she understood his fears. “Please, Kyle,” she begged.
Her pleading voice propelled him through the deep snowdrifts to his car. He turned it on to warm it while he cleared the snow from the roof and windows with Matthew’s assistance.
As soon as she’d helped Matthew get the baby situated in the backseat, Leah slid into the car, and Kyle inched out of the driveway. Leah sat next to him, but his panic overrode that pleasure. Memories of the last time he’d driven on icy roads flooded his mind, choking him. His hands clenched on the steering wheel, he hunched forward, trying to see through the blinding snow. What if he had another accident like that and hurt the woman he loved? Or killed another baby?
* * *
Leah clutched the car armrest as Kyle’s car crawled along the winding country roads. If only they could move faster. They needed to get to the clinic before it closed. She’d had firsthand experience with how treacherous patches of black ice were on these roads, so she appreciated his caution, but an infant’s life hung in the balance.
“Maybe I should call the clinic to let them know we’re coming.” Surely someone would stay if they knew a baby was on the way.
“Danke,” Matthew said as he laid a protective hand over Emily’s chest.
After the clinic assured Leah they’d wait for them, she relaxed a bit. But poor Kyle held the steering wheel in a death grip, and his jaw was so tense she wondered if his teeth hurt. Driving in these icy conditions had been a real act of courage. She wanted to reach out and touch his arm to calm him but worried she’d startle him and cause an accident.
She didn’t want to be responsible for another accident. Because Kyle seemed not to recognize her, Leah tried to bury her guilt over that accident, but her conscience insisted she needed to confess.
Please, Lord, give me the right opportunity and the strength and courage.
Leah added prayers for their safety and for Emily’s health when the eight-mile car ride turned into an hour of inching along on slippery roads.
When Kyle pulled up in front of the timber-framed building, he blew out a loud breath.
“Danke for getting us here safely,” she whispered.
His you’re welcome came out shakily, and Leah wished she could reach out to ease the tension lines around his eyes and mouth.
When they got out, gale-force winds and driving snow nearly blew them over. Kyle took Leah’s arm, while Matthew cradled Emily. Leah used the winds and snowy sidewalk as an excuse to cuddle closer.
“You go first,” Kyle said to Matthew. Bending to put his mouth close to Leah’s ear, he whispered, “Let’s stay right behind him in case he slips. I don’t want anything to happen to him, and especially not to the baby.”
As they bent against the winds, Kyle held her steady. “Be careful,” he said as they reached the part of the walkway that had been salted. “This slush can be slippery.”
One of the doctors waited for them just inside the door. The doctor pushed it open, but a huge gust yanked it from her hand. Kyle let go of Leah to grab the door before it slammed, and Leah missed his warmth and comfort.
The doctor directed them down the hallway. “Hello, I’m Dr. Sensenig. Take her right back there to the first exam room on the right.”
They all crowded into the room, and Matthew, his face anxious, unwrapped Emily and handed all the blankets to Leah. “Will you be able to help her?”
“We’ll do our best.” The doctor turned toward them. “One of you thinks she has maple syrup urine disease?”
“I smelled it quite distinctly,” Leah told her.
The doctor studied her. “And you are?”
“I’m Leah Stoltzfus. The midwife at the delivery last week. I’m working with Sharon Nolt.”
“Ah, yes. Sharon has sent us several babies with inherited diseases,” she said as she bent over the examining table and sniffed. “I’ll do an amino acid analysis right away.” After taking a blood sample, she hurried from the room.
Leah clutched the extra bundle of blankets against her chest, and beside her, Matthew stood rigid, holding Emily in place on the table until the doctor returned.
* * *
“We should have the results shortly, but—”
Kyle stared at her. “You can get results that quickly?” He hoped he hadn’t offended her by acting skeptical, but he’d been expecting it would take a few days.
Dr. Sensenig didn’t seem bothered by his question. “We have the equipment here to do the testing. Most places have to send out for results, which can take a while. Many local doctors send their blood samples here for amino acid analysis.”
“That’s impressive,” Kyle murmured. “Would it be all right if I looked around? I’m scheduled to start a fellowship in rare diseases in January.”
The doctor undressed Emily. “Why don’t you stop by for a tour sometime? You can get an in-depth picture of our work. We do many kinds of genetic research.”
Kyle’s eyes lit up. “You do research too?”
Dr. Sensenig nodded. “Our main focus is researching various inherited diseases in the Amish and Mennonite communities—conditions like Crigler-Najjar syndrome, Byler disease, and what the Amish call chicken breast disease,” she said as she weighed and measured Emily. “We practice transitional medicine, so we combine research with clinical care.”
“The best way to do it,” Kyle said. He had no idea this clinic even existed. Of course, if he’d run across information on it earlier, he wouldn’t have read it once he saw the word Amish. He’d have to find out more about it. He liked the fact that they treated patients here.
Then the doctor turned to Matthew and questioned him about Emily’s birth weight and the baby’s symptoms.
Dr. Sensenig frowned as she jotted down the information on Emily’s chart. “She’s lost quite a bit of weight. We’ll need to get her started on the formula immediately.” She handed Matthew a container.
Kyle’s gut clenched. Babies usually lost some weight in the first month, but not a lot.
Matthew sat on one of the chairs and tipped the bottle of formula to Emily’s lips, coaxing her to eat. Leah sat beside him, holding the blankets and running a finger along the baby’s cheek as if to encourage her. How could Leah be so giving when she’d just faced such a devastating blow? Kyle could already hear her answer to his question: Every situation—good or bad—is God’s will. At times, he wished he had her unshakable faith. But that would mean accepting his parents’ deaths as God’s will, something he couldn’t do.
Once again, Leah had diagnosed a patient correctly. Would he have even thought of MSUD? Maybe not at first, although the maple smell probably would have jogged his memory. He’d buried that information in the back of his mind after med school, figuring he’d never need it again. He had no plans to have anything to do with an Amish community. Being around Leah made him rethink that.
The other thing that surprised him about Leah was that, although she championed natural remedies, she had no hesitation about bringing the baby to a clinic for help.
And she’d gone to the hospital herself for surgery and even consented to take pain meds. It seemed she had a more balanced view of medicine than he did. Maybe it was time for him to be more open-minded about herbal remedies.
After she checked the analysis results, Dr. Sensenig’s face looked grave. “We need to admit Emily to the hospital right away.”
“Can I stay with her?” Matthew asked. When the doctor nodded, his face relaxed slightly. “I need to let Rachel know.”
Fumbling under the pile of blankets filling her arms, Leah managed to extract her cell phone. She handed it to Matthew.
Matthew clicked the button, talked to his wife for a few minutes, and held the phone out to Leah. “Danke.”
“Why don’t you keep the phone for now?” She dug in her pocket and pulled out the charger. “That way you can keep in touch with Rachel tonight.”
* * *
Darkness had fallen by the time the doctor led Leah and Kyle down the hall and let them out the door. The clinic lights, shining dimly through the layers of snow piled on them, lit the slushy walkway.
Once again Kyle held out his bent arm to escort her to the car, and Leah tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and clung to him tightly. Perhaps more tightly than she should. But she was grateful for their closeness when they reached the parking lot and she slid on a patch of ice.
A deep frown on his brow, Kyle studied the ground. “That’s black ice. If it formed on the parking lot, the roads will also be icy. It’s not safe to drive tonight.”
“We can’t stay here, though.”
“I know.” He wrapped an arm around her and supported her the rest of the way to the car. After he helped her in, he tucked the baby’s extra blankets she carried around her, making her feel warm, cozy, and coddled. Then he shuffled around to the other side, feeling for hidden ice.
Once he got in and hooked up his seat belt, he turned on the engine. Only cold air blasted from the vents. He flicked off the heater. “I’ll wait until the engine warms up to turn it on. I hope you’re warm enough.”
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