by Ginny Dye
“Isn’t life better for your family in Oberlin?” Jeremy demanded.
Moses sighed. As much as he wanted to return to the plantation, he couldn’t deny that Oberlin, Ohio was a better place to raise his family. He didn’t constantly worry about Rose, Felicia, John, and Hope. He opened his mouth to answer, but the front door slamming open interrupted his response.
Chapter Two
Carrie and Rose were trotting down the road, admiring the hues of the sunset, when the sound of pounding hoofbeats jolted them from their quiet reverie. Carrie stiffened immediately. Was there another attack on the plantation? She could no more stop her mind from going there than she could stop the sun from setting. She exchanged a startled look with Rose and then urged Granite into a canter that Maple could match. Now was not the time to be separated.
“Carrie! Rose!”
Carrie relaxed as she saw Amber flying down the road toward them on Eclipse, the magnificent dark bay stallion who was the foundation stud for the beautiful colts and fillies grazing in the plantation’s green pastures. She would never cease being amazed at the tender relationship the spirited stallion had with the little girl, but she had long ago accepted it. The two of them almost always ended the day with a wild run down the roads. Carrie pulled Granite to a stop as Amber raced up to them. “Are you having fun?” Her question started out with a smile, but she tensed again when she saw the look on Amber’s face.
“It’s Marietta,” Amber gasped. “She’s having the baby!”
Carrie grinned, her fear dissolving with the news. “It’s about time!” She reached out for Amber’s hand. “How far along is she?”
Amber shook her head. “I don’t know for sure. Moses ran out to the barn to get me a few minutes ago. He said Annie came to get Jeremy, so he sent me for you.”
Carrie nodded. “This is Marietta’s first child. It will take a little while. I’m sure she is fine because she has Annie there, but we’ll get back quickly.”
“You’re not worried at all?” Amber asked in a voice that revealed she was worried enough for both of them.
Carrie smiled at the wiry little girl perched like an acorn on a massive oak tree. Unless you saw it for yourself, you couldn’t believe such a young girl could handle a horse like Eclipse. “I’m not worried,” she assured her. “Marietta is strong and healthy. Women have babies all the time.”
Amber peered at her, but the worried look did not diminish. “You were strong and healthy, too,” she said hesitantly.
Carrie sucked in her breath, but she wouldn’t let the memory of losing Bridget in birth taint Marietta’s experience. “That’s true,” she admitted, “but this is different.” She refused to think about the wild horseback ride out to the plantation to say good-bye to her husband before he died. She had gone into labor moments after Robert closed his eyes for the last time. She gritted her teeth against the pain, forcing her voice to remain calm. The best thing she could do for Amber was keep her busy. “Why don’t you go get your mama?” Polly was an experienced midwife. She would value her expertise in case there was trouble.
“Moses sent Clint after her,” Amber answered.
“Of course,” Carrie murmured. “Your brother will bring her back quickly.” She sought for words to assuage Amber’s fears, and then realized there probably were none. The little girl wouldn’t relax until Marietta’s baby was born. Carrie urged Granite back into a canter. “Let’s get home.
*****
Carrie handed off Granite to Miles, and ran lightly up the steps of the glistening white plantation house. As she passed between the towering, three-story columns, she thought of all the births the house had seen through all the generations of her family. The realization that Marietta was giving birth to a baby whose father was the result of Carrie’s own grandfather raping Old Sarah, somehow made it more special. Being able to play a part in the redemption of such a horrible act of violence felt right.
Annie met her at the door. “Miss Marietta’s water done broke right before I sent Amber to get you.”
Carrie nodded, her mind moving quickly as she thought through everything she needed. “How is she?”
Annie grinned. “Anxious to meet her baby.”
Carrie laughed, knowing Marietta was every bit as impatient as she was. Both of them wanted everything to happen quickly. “I can imagine.” She opened her mouth to ask questions, but Annie anticipated her. “We gots lots of hot water boilin’, and there already be a pile of clean cloths next to the bed. Your medical bag be right there, too. Clint done went to fetch Polly. It won’t be long ‘fore they be back.”
Carrie smiled her thanks, kissed Annie on the cheek, and ran up the staircase.
Marietta was gripping Jeremy’s hand when Carrie walked into the room. “You’re here!” she said joyfully.
“I told you I would be,” Carrie teased. “I appreciate you waiting until I was almost home from my ride.”
“I aim to please,” Marietta responded, before taking a shallow breath as a spasm of pain crossed her face.
Carrie nodded to Jeremy. “It’s time for the father to leave the room, please. I need to examine this beautiful woman who is about to have your baby.” She opened her mouth to add words of preparation, but closed it quickly. She had no proof of her suspicions. Only time would tell.
“So, I just sit downstairs and wait?” Jeremy complained.
“You can go commiserate with Moses and Franklin,” Carrie retorted. “May I remind you that you have the easy part?”
Jeremy sighed and kissed Marietta warmly before leaving the room just as Annie was bringing in the buckets of hot water.
“I got my Miles keepin’ more water hot,” Annie announced as she lowered the buckets. She stepped closer to Marietta and squeezed her shoulder. “You gonna do just fine, Miss Marietta.”
Marietta, her blue eyes glowing beneath thick red hair pulled up into a bun, nodded firmly. “You bet I am, Annie.” Her smile faltered when another contraction struck.
Carrie felt her first twinge of alarm. The contractions were coming much more quickly than they should at this point. She watched Annie leave the room, and then turned back to the expectant mother.
“Carrie?” Marietta asked in a sharp voice. “What was that look for? And don’t tell me I’m imagining things.”
Carrie considered making up a lie, but knew Marietta would discern anything that was not the truth. “I think your baby must be in a hurry,” she said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. “How long have you been having contractions?”
Marietta closed her eyes in concentration as another spasm gripped her. “Not long,” she murmured. “Maybe…twenty minutes.”
Carrie focused on the positive. “It looks like you will be spared the agony of a long labor.”
Marietta wasn’t buying her forced cheer. “Tell me the truth,” she demanded.
Carrie wouldn’t lie, but she knew only what she had read. Every birth she had participated in had taken twelve to fourteen hours, or more. “I don’t have personal experience with a fast labor,” she admitted, willing her voice to be calm so Marietta would remain confident. “What I have read says a short labor can be more painful because your body doesn’t have the time to truly prepare for the pain of giving birth.”
Marietta frowned. “I’ve never noticed that childbirth isn’t painful for every woman.” She hesitated. “You’re telling me my pain might be worse.”
“It might,” Carrie conceded.
Marietta considered that and smiled. “I’d rather do it this way,” she said. “If something is going to hurt anyway, I’d rather sign up for the short version. Why drag it out if you don’t have to?”
“Spoken like a truly impatient woman,” Carrie shot back, relieved to see a confident shine in Marietta’s eyes. She wondered briefly what her labor would have been like with Bridget if Dr. Wild had not been forced to do a Cesarean delivery. She supposed she should be grateful that she would never know, because the end result would still have been a stillborn
baby. She closed her eyes against the pain momentarily before giving Marietta her full focus.
“Let’s see what is going on here,” Carrie said gently. “The important thing to remember is that most babies are born after a completely normal and uneventful labor. Rose gave birth to Hope in this same bed. It was very smooth and easy.”
“And having John almost killed her,” Marietta retorted as another spasm took her breath. She groaned and closed her eyes against the pain.
A soft knock announced Polly’s arrival. The gentle-faced black woman took one look, locked eyes with Carrie, and then moved to take Marietta’s hand. A pleasant breeze pushed through the soft blue curtains, ushering in cool air that would help with a hard labor. “You ain’t never been one to waste time,” she said. “Looks like this ain’t gonna be no exception.”
Carrie, comforted by Polly’s arrival, moved into position to examine Marietta. She was shocked to see how far she was dilated. She exchanged a meaningful glance with Polly and reached for the bucket of water. “Today will most certainly not be an exception,” she teased. “Have you picked out names?” It would help to keep Marietta’s focus on something other than the pain.
Marietta’s lips relaxed as the newest contraction released her. “Marcus Jeremy if it’s a boy,” she confided.
Carrie smiled, knowing how pleased Pastor Anthony would be that his grandchild carried his name. “And if it’s a girl?”
“Sarah Rose,” Marietta answered, pushing back damp hair from her perspiring face. “I thought about naming a girl after women in my family, but it seemed only right to name her after her grandmother and aunt on Jeremy’s side.” Her voice faded away as another contraction stole her breath. “Ohhhh...” she groaned.
Carrie smiled at her comfortingly. “And now you know why men don’t have babies,” she confided. “They could never handle the pain.”
Marietta gasped and found her voice. “Then why are they trying to take over childbirth?”
Carrie was not surprised Marietta had read everything she could get her hands on about pregnancy and birth. She also knew Marietta was trying to distract herself, but Carrie’s answer was interrupted when Annie reappeared in the room.
“I got the chamomile tea you asked for.”
Marietta reached for it gratefully. “The tea helps control the pain by relieving tension.”
Carrie grinned. “It’s nice to have a patient I don’t have to teach anything.”
Marietta drank several gulps before another spasm forced Polly to grab the cup from her limp hand. “Oh my…”
The contraction gave Carrie time to add a shepherd’s purse tincture to the table where she had placed her supplies. There was no reason to call Marietta’s attention to her preparations. She hoped she wouldn’t need it, but it was the best herb to stop postpartum hemorrhaging if it were to occur.
“She’s been taking the blue cohosh and black cohosh for the last two months,” Polly told her.
Carrie nodded. She and Polly had already discussed this, but she knew the midwife was trying to keep Marietta’s mind off the pain. “And the raspberry leaf tincture?”
“Yes,” Marietta answered in a strained voice. “Polly told me it would prepare my uterine muscles for efficient labor.” She grimaced. “I wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t quite so efficient.”
Carrie smiled, but she couldn’t agree more. “Go ahead and drink some more tea,” she urged, “and I’ll tell you about men trying to take over child birthing.”
“Oh, this should be good,” Marietta managed.
“It will be pure nonsense,” Polly snapped. “What do men know about women giving birth? They ain’t had nothing to do with it for most of time.”
Carrie made a face to indicate her agreement, her instinct telling her Marietta’s child would be born soon. “Men only entered the field of childbirth about twenty years ago. Although babies have been being born for centuries with the aid of midwives, they decided their medical knowledge was far superior to that of grubby midwives,” she said with a scowl. “Those are certainly not my words, and definitely not what I believe, but some doctors completely believe it, and they have started writing books to espouse their superior knowledge.”
“Such as?” Marietta asked.
“Well,” Carrie began, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “There are doctors who would very much disagree with me giving you chamomile tea to relieve the pain.”
“Why?” Polly growled.
“Because they believe the relief of pain during childbirth removes the maternal instinct,” Carrie said. “But the most important reason is that they believe it is sacrilegious to thrust aside the decrees of Providence. They believe women have been sentenced to suffer the pain of childbirth, and that to relieve their pain robs God of the deep, earnest cries which arise in time of trouble for help.” She stated it exactly as she had read it. It had been so ludicrous that she had felt compelled to submit it to memory. Silence filled the room when Carrie finished speaking.
“You’re serious?” Marietta gasped. “What about Queen Victoria?”
Carrie was impressed with the depth of reading Marietta had done.
“Queen Victoria?” Polly asked. “You mean over in England?”
Carrie smiled. “It is amazing how attitudes can begin to change when the most powerful woman in the world becomes tired of the pain of childbirth. Queen Victoria of England had already had seven children when Leopold was born in 1853. She had her doctors give her chloroform and then did the same thing for her next child, her daughter Beatrice.”
“Did people throw a fit?” Polly asked, gripping Marietta’s hand as a fresh contraction stole her breath. “Did they consider it a sacrilege?”
When the pain passed, Carrie answered. “Of course, but a man named Sir James Simpson helped convince the religious-minded people that perhaps God did not insist on suffering in birth.” She smiled. “He reminded them that the first operation recorded in history was performed under anesthesia.”
Marietta stared at her with confusion. “Excuse me?”
Carrie’s smile turned into a grin. “Sir Simpson told people that when God created Eve from one of Adam’s ribs, he caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam.” She paused. “Anesthesia!”
Polly laughed loudly, but Marietta frowned. “Carrie, Queen Victoria received chloroform fifteen years ago. It should not still be an issue.”
“Yes, well, change does not come quickly,” Carrie reminded her. “Just because someone has proved something works doesn’t mean everyone is going to fall in line.”
Marietta was still frowning. “I appreciate why Queen Victoria did what she did, and I don’t have an ethical argument against it, but I don’t think I would want to miss the birth of my child because I was passed out from chloroform.”
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Carrie said. “Different people want to do things their own way, and I believe they should have that right.” She smiled at Marietta and glanced down, her eyes growing wide.
*****
Moses laughed when Jeremy continued to keep his eyes locked on the staircase. He exchanged a humorous look with Franklin. “Obviously a new father,” he teased. “He doesn’t realize nothing will happen for hours and hours.” He reached over to thump Jeremy’s shoulder. “You might as well sit back and relax, brother of mine. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.”
“Not as long a night as Marietta is going to have,” Jeremy said heavily.
“That’s true,” Franklin agreed, “but Chooli assures me it was all worth it when she was holding Ajei in her arms. Marietta will feel the same way.”
Moses, feeling sympathy for the soon-to-be father, turned to Franklin. “The best thing to do is keep Jeremy’s mind occupied. How far did the men get today with the firewood?” He would forever be grateful that Franklin had arrived a year ago to take over the operations at Cromwell Plantation while he went to school. He didn’t know what he was going to do when Franklin took his family back to Chooli�
��s Navajo homeland in the spring, but he pushed that thought aside. He hadn’t known what he was going to do last fall either, and God had provided. Rose kept telling him he needed to trust; he was trying.
“They did real good,” Franklin assured him, his long, lanky legs sprawled out in front of the fire.
The chill October air had driven them inside to bask in front of the flames. Annie, knowing there would not be a normal dinner that night, had brought them heaping plates of chicken and dumplings. Their stomachs sated, they were ready to talk.
“I figure about four more days of woodcutting ought to take care of things,” Franklin continued.
“Four more days?” Jeremy asked with disbelief. “It looked to me like they already have a mountain of firewood. Moses said more was needed, but I didn’t believe him.”
Franklin smiled. “We’re laying in enough wood to heat this house, the homes of all the men and their families, and also have a good start toward drying season next year. It’s going to take several more mountains of firewood to do that, and it’s much easier to cut it now than it is in the summer.”
“I suppose so,” Jeremy murmured.
Franklin changed the subject. “Have either of you heard anything new from Thomas about the election?”
“There is no doubt General Grant will be elected the next president,” Jeremy answered.
Moses scowled, glad to have something else to think about, even if it was something that disturbed him as much as the current election. “Don’t be so sure about that,” he cautioned. “I know Grant has the support of Northern Republicans, but he can’t count on the votes of Southern Republicans.”
Jeremy stared at him. “How can you say that? Do you seriously think the black Republicans in the South won’t vote for Grant? That they will vote for Seymour?”
Moses met his eyes. “You’ve been in the factory too long, Jeremy. It’s not a matter of will or won’t. It’s a matter of can or can’t.”
“What are you talking about?” Jeremy demanded.
