The truth was he wanted to stick his head in a very large bottle of Irish whiskey and never come out, but that was a coward’s way and was no coward. Besides, Aggie was depending on him and he would die before he disappointed her.
“I am afraid in order to have any chance at saving your wife’s life and stop the bleeding, I had to…I’m sorry to tell you this, Mr. Hanover, but I had to do quite a bit of suturing. So much, that your wife will never be able to have children again.”
Hiram’s ears buzzed and he wanted to vomit. “Aggie can never…”
“No. The damage to her was just too extensive. I’m sorry, Hiram. She will not be able to have any more children. Not after today.”
Hiram sat in stunned silence letting the news wash over him. He and Aggie would never have children again. It was a blow he had been ill prepared for.
“Bring the baby to me, Hiram. I want to examine him.”
Hiram took the baby to the doctor and stood back while he examined him from his tiny little round head to the tips of his teeny feet. He cast another worried glance toward his wife’s still body. And then he prayed. He prayed as hard as he had ever prayed in his life.
Chapter 11
Aggie’s consciousness returned in tiny drips and drabs, but the one thing that was constant in her new awareness was pain. Breath-stealing, gut-wrenching, wishing-you-were-dead kind of pain she could never have imagined to feel and still be alive.
She needed water. Her throat was so dry she could barely swallow. Somehow, she managed to lick her lips. At least, that’s what she told her mind she wanted to do. Whether or not her tongue obeyed the command was up for debate.
“Aggie? Aggie, darling. Can you hear me? Please open your eyes. Wake up, my sweet. Please, let me see those beautiful eyes of yours. Wake up, please my darling.”
She heard a male voice. It was very familiar. It took a few more laps around her thoughts to recognize it. It belonged to her husband. Hiram. She had found her way back to him.
She willed her body to respond. She told her eyes to open. Her mouth to speak. Her hands to reach out and touch his face. She needed to let him know she was here and that she was coming back to him. She was going to be fine.
But was she? Going to be fine? It frightened her that her body wouldn’t do as she asked. Why wasn’t it? What had happened to her? Why was she in such pain and why couldn’t she move or speak? Why couldn’t Hiram help her?
A trickle of something wet raced between her lips. Unable to swallow quickly, she coughed trying to clear her airway. And the pain returned in sharp, stabbing slashes across her stomach.
A wet cloth touched her parched lips and she felt more drops of liquid run down the back of her throat. Water. Someone was offering her water. The cool wet felt good on her lips and tongue. She would have to thank the person later when she was more herself. Why was she so sleepy? When she tried to make her limbs move, she felt as if she were walking through molasses.
Slowly, her memory refocused and her brain began to regain the sharpness it lacked earlier. With this clarity, she began to remember. The tea party. The stabbing pains. Dr. Davenport had come. She remembered she was bleeding, and he had said he was going to have to deliver the baby. Her baby.
“Aggie? Open your eyes, please.” Hiram’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She could feel his hands caressing her arms, her cheek, her hair. He even kissed her on her forehead. She wanted to open her eyes. She could hear the worry in his voice. And then there was the baby. She wanted to see her baby.
She mentally pushed herself until a tiny splinter of light punched through her eyelids. Just a fraction, but they had moved. Aggie inhaled a breath. Not a deep one for she couldn’t stand the pain that came along with it. It was a shallow breath, but one she was able to repeat on command.
“Aggie, please my darling. Open your eyes so I know you are alright.”
She was still far from alright. That much she sensed, but she was alive. The pain validated that assumption. She wanted to do as he asked, so she pushed a little bit harder. Finally, her eyelids slid open. There hovering above her was her husband’s exhausted and worried face.
“There you are.” He looked so relieved she thought he might burst into tears. Instead, he smoothed her hair away from her face and offered her more water.
She sipped at the cloth until her thirst finally abated. It would have felt good if not for the stab of pain she felt with every breath.
Why couldn’t she ask him about the baby? Her mouth still refused to follow her commands. She finally managed to move her lips, but no words came.
“Rest, my darling. There will be plenty of time to talk when you are more yourself.” Another voice. Gertrude. Hiram’s mother.
Aggie felt as if her ankles and wrists were tied to the blacksmith’s anvil. Her frustration mounted as she willed herself to move only to have her body refuse.
And she was so tired. She had no idea having a baby was so exhausting. But she had to hold her baby. To see that her child with her own eyes. To know that he—or she—was okay. The realization struck her hard. She didn’t even know if she’d had a boy or a girl? She had to see her baby and to know it was alright. With every ounce of strength and determination she possessed, she pushed her mouth to speak.
“Hiram,” she croaked.
“Oh yes, darling. I’m here. Mother’s here. How are you feeling? I knew you could do it. I knew you wouldn’t leave me. You know how lost I would be without you.” She cut her eyes around the room and saw Gertrude standing at the foot of the bed.
“Hello, Aggie. How are you feeling? Would you like some more medicine for the pain?” The sympathetic look from her mother-in-law helped bring her into focus.
“Yes. No. I—” she forced herself to stay on task. “No, I want my baby. When can I see—my baby. Was it and boy or a girl? Please tell me. I must know.”
When no one answered her right away, she pushed through the last bit of fogginess and focused on their faces. It was obvious there was something they weren’t telling her. Oh, no. Had her baby died?
Tears formed and she stared at her husband’s face when she asked the question again. “Hiram, where’s our baby?” she whispered, afraid his answer would be too brutal to bear.
“Our son is in the crib sleeping, Aggie. You should rest until you are stronger. Mother, Gladys, and I have everything under control.”
Relief soared. “My baby…my son. He’s alright? I want to hold him,” she insisted.
“You can’t sweetheart. Dr. Davenport said you are to lie as still as you are able to keep your stitches from tearing.” Hiram squeezed her hand and leaned down to kiss her on the lips. She kissed him back, but she would not be satisfied until she laid eyes on her baby.
“Then if I can’t hold him, I at least want to see him. Please hold him up so I can get a good look at our son, Hiram,” she insisted.
Hiram offered her a sad smile and nodded. “Alright, Aggie. Mother would you hold the baby up so Aggie can get a look at him.”
Moments later, Gertrude held up a tiny bundle. She gently peeled back the blanket to reveal an even tinier face. Aggie was surprised at how small he was, but she was even more surprised at how pale he looked. Weren’t babies supposed to be pink and squirming? He was so still and quiet. Perhaps he was asleep, her mind rationalized. Of course, that was it. Newborn babies had to be as exhausted as their mothers. Childbirth was a difficult process for everyone.
She was overjoyed. Her baby son was alive. And so was she. They had both made it through this horrible day. This day, June fourteenth, eighteen hundred and sixty-five, would be a day she would remember for the rest of her life.
“He’s beautiful.” It was all she could manage to say before the exhaustion overtook her. The war was over. She had a beautiful new life with Hiram. And their son was here. What else could a woman possibly want? She was truly a very fortunate woman. She sighed as she allowed herself to drift off to sleep again.
Aggie awoke to a
darkened room with the sound of people talking. This time, she awoke more quickly. The pain she was in kicked in quicker than before and she was fairly certain the pain medicine the doctor had given her earlier had worn off. She opened her eyes to see the glow of a single bedside lamp glowing in the semi-dark room.
“Hiram? Are you here?” she called out.
“Yes, darling. I’m right here. I’ve not left your side since you—”
“Where’s our son? Prop me up in the bed so I can see him.”
“I can’t right now. Dr. Davenport is here and he’s examining him at present.” Hiram squeezed her hand to reassure her, but something in his voice had her studying him more closely.
“Hiram, what is it you are not saying? Is something wrong with our baby?” She tried to sit up but the pain across her abdomen nearly stole her precarious hold on consciousness.
“Aggie, be still. You’ll tear your stitches and start bleeding again. Please, darling. Please, be patient,” Hiram pleaded with her, but she wanted answers.
“I will be still only if you will tell me the truth. Is our son alright?” she said, infusing her words with iron, as she searched Hiram’s face for the truth.
He dropped his gaze and offered her a sad smile. “Aggie, the doctor seems to think the baby has some problems due to the difficult birth. He’s struggling to breathe and his color is a bit off. That’s why he’s giving the baby a thorough examination. As soon as he’s done, we will figure out a way for you to hold him. Now, please be still, my darling.”
Aggie nodded, knowing she was making everything harder on Hiram. “Alright, I’ll be still.” She offered her husband an encouraging smile, but her mind was a jumbled mess of worry and impatience.
After what seemed an eternity to Aggie, Dr. Davenport finally finished his exam of her son.
“Mr. and Mrs. Hanover, I know you’ve had a truly horrible day and I regret that I must make it worse, but I feel I should apprise you of the situation fully.”
Aggie shot a frightened look to Hiram. He returned her gaze and squeezed her hand in support. “What is it doctor? You can tell us. We want to know exactly what is wrong with our son.” Hiram voiced her thoughts exactly. She sent the doctor a look letting him know just that.
“Dr. Davenport. Hiram and I insist you tell us what’s wrong with our son. As you said, we’ve had a truly horrible day. Is our son in danger?”
The doctor nodded. “the truth is…”
“The truth is what, doctor? Is our son in trouble?” Hiram chimed in to let the man know they demanded answers.
“I don’t know. Your son is almost a month early and he had a very difficult time getting here. I’m worried that with everything that happened—"
Aggie watched the doctor cut a look at her husband when he stopped short. “What is it you aren’t telling me? Hiram?” Aggie’s unease caused her heart to race, which in turn caused her pain to increase. She grimaced and squeezed her eyes shut against the throbbing pulse of pain in her belly.
When Hiram didn’t answer, she forced her eyes to open. “Hiram, you must tell me what happened. You must. I’m counting on you to help me face whatever it is you two are trying so hard to keep from me.”
Hiram inhaled a deep breath and offered another sad smile. “I know, sweetheart. I want to tell you. I just don’t think you are strong enough yet and Dr. Davenport said you shouldn’t be upset—”
“I am as strong as I need to be, Hiram. And I promise I won’t be upset, at least, I won’t tear my stitches. Now tell me. What has happened?” Aggie’s mental strength was returning minute-by-minute. Although her body was battered and wrecked, her will to overcome had firmly taken root. She had to get past whatever this was in order to move forward to a brighter future for her, Hiram, and her son.
“Doctor, perhaps you could tell Aggie in medical terms where she will be able to comprehend the facts instead of perhaps dwelling on the emotional aspect of…everything that has happened.”
“Very well. Mrs. Hanover, would you like to hold the baby for just a moment?”
Aggie allowed Hiram to gently add pillows behind her head and shoulders so she could see better. Then, the doctor handed the baby to her.
Aggie allowed Hiram to help hold the baby. She hated to admit she really didn’t have the strength to hold him alone. Once he was settled in her arms, she peered into the blanket to see his tiny face. He seemed so pale and still. Shouldn’t he be making mewing noises? Or at least squirming?
“How long has it been since he was born? Shouldn’t he be nursing by now?” she asked the doctor.
“Yes, we sent for a wet nurse because we had no idea how long it would be before you recovered enough to nurse him yourself. He should be taking nourishment, but….”
Aggie looked up at the doctor, “Are you saying he isn’t eating? Is that what has you concerned?”
There was that look again between Hiram and the doctor. “I insist you tell me what’s happened, and I insist you tell me now.”
“Very well, but this won’t be easy for you to hear, Mrs. Hanover.”
“Easy or not, doctor. I want to know. I want to know everything.”
Hiram had known it would be hard for Aggie to hear the truth, but he had expected her to be more emotional. Instead, she stared first at the doctor and then at him, and through it all she uttered not a single word. Nor shed not a single tear.
“Do either of you have any questions?” Dr. Davenport asked.
Hiram looked at Aggie, who was staring blankly at a spot on the wall. She didn’t respond or even blink. Hiram shook his head no to the doctor. “Perhaps we will have questions later. When we’ve had a chance to…think,” Hiram offered.
“Very well then. If either of you do think of any questions, send word and I’ll come as soon as I am able. Until then, I’ll leave you to…take it all in. I’ll check back later this evening to see how…everyone is doing.” The doctor nodded and left the room leaving Hiram to pick up the pieces of his and Aggie’s life.
“Let me take the baby to the nursery so you can get some rest, Aggie.” Hiram reached for the baby, but Aggie refused to surrender him.
“No, Hiram. It seems I have already lost one child this day. If I am to lose another, I want to at least hold him until he is no longer on this earth.” Her voice was but a whisper, but it was as strong as steel.
He knew he would have to challenge her to take the baby, and he didn’t have the heart to put her through that. Besides, if the doctor’s prediction was true, their son would leave them all too soon, and as heartbreaking as it was to watch him fade away right before their eyes, he wanted to spend as much time with him as he could before—
“Hiram, what did she look like? My little girl?” Aggie asked him the question without taking her eyes off the face of the infant son in her arms.
“She was tiny, Aggie. So very tiny. But she was a beauty. Just like her mother.” He would never tell her the horror of knowing the little girl was stillborn and probably had been dead for some time before she was born.
“I wish I could have seen her before they took her away. Just for a moment. Just to say goodbye,” Aggie’s voice wavered with emotion.
“I know, sweetheart. I didn’t get but a glimpse of her myself. Dr. Davenport was trying to be kind. I think he believed we would be better off not seeing her, but—”
“Even so,” Aggie whispered still refusing to take her eyes of their son.
He hoped Aggie would never ask the cause of her death. The doctor had told him it was their daughter dying within Aggie’s womb that had caused their son to be so weak and frail. And that was a truth he hoped he could take to his grave.
“I know sweetheart. I know it’s hard to accept that you didn’t get to say goodbye to our little girl, but under the circumstances, it was impossible. We were all fighting for your life and the life of our son at that point.”
“I know it isn’t practical. I just wish I had been able to hold her, that’s all.”
“Hiram?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“How is it that Dr. Davenport didn’t know we were having twins? Shouldn’t he have been able to hear two heartbeats?”
Hiram’s heart stuttered. “I…think the doctor said the two heartbeats were in unison so that was the reason he only heard one heartbeat.”
Aggie’s gaze remained on their son’s face. He was grateful for that small favor for had she looked up at him, she would have seen that he lied. What could would he do her to know that she had carried two babies in her womb—one dead and the other slowly poisoned by the first one. It would rip her soul to pieces and somehow, he knew she would find a way to blame herself. He couldn’t let that happen. He knew he was playing God, but he would do anything to protect his wife. Even lie.
He looked down at the baby’s face, then at his’s wife’s profile. All he could do was pray the doctor was wrong about their son, but each time Hiram looked at the baby, he seemed more pale and more fragile than the last time he looked.
He watched his wife caress the baby’s face. Touch his little fingers and trace his tiny bow-shaped mouth. She kissed him on his forehead and all through her ministrations, the baby never moved. Once or twice, Hiram had to concentrate on the baby’s chest to make certain he was still breathing.
Hiram wanted his parents to see the baby once more in case— “Sweetheart, would you mind if Mother and Father come up to spend a few minutes with their new grandson? I know they would be overjoyed at the prospect before—”
“Before he dies?” Aggie asked. A hint of bitterness tinged her words.
“No, I was going to say before you and the baby retire for the evening. It’s been a long, long day for everyone,” he lied again. He found his falsehoods slipped easily off his tongue when he told them to protect Aggie.
Aggie Page 13
