“No. Don’t leave.” She let out a hard breath between each word and somehow managed to squeeze his fingers even tighter. “There’s no time.”
How did she know? He supposed that was just another of the mysteries of women.
“You’re going to have the baby now?” Again his thoughts tumbled around on top of one another. He couldn’t make head nor tail of any of them.
“Yes.” It was more of a soft hiss rather than a word. Then a strangled cry and she panted once more.
“I need to get help.”
She shook her head. “You have to stay. Please stay.”
All thoughts of what was right and what was wrong, of what was accepted as the man’s role in the Amish world, would have to be put aside. This was an emergency. A part of him still wanted to run down the stairs and go find help. A woman, any woman, would surely know better what to do than he. But there was no way she was letting go of his fingers, and he was almost certain the only way to escape her grip was to cut off his own hand. Or so it felt.
“I don’t know what to do.” He had to wait for another of her pains to subside before she answered. They seem to be coming closer and closer together. Wasn’t that the way of it? He had no idea. He’d never seen a baby being born. A colt, a calf, even lambs and kids—the goat kind—but never a human baby.
“Stay here,” she said on a long exhale.
“I don’t know what to do.” He could help birth just about any farm animal there was, but he didn’t know what to do with a baby.
“I do,” she managed before the next pain set in.
He had never felt so useless in his life. He wanted to help, but even as he sat there and watched her labor, allowed her to squeeze his fingers as the pains came, he still wanted to do something more. Go get help. Take away the pain. Something, anything, to make it better. He could only sit and watch.
The labor seemed to take forever. But he knew that it was fast. Women didn’t talk about such matters in front of menfolk, but he knew that some women labored for days. It seemed as if Tillie was on some sort of express track to having her baby. He guessed that sometime before dawn the child would be born. The thought left his mouth dry, his heart thumping. Again he wanted to tell her that he didn’t know what to do, though at this point he didn’t think it mattered. Even if neither one of them knew what to do, the baby was still coming.
“Help . . . me,” she managed between her clenched teeth.
Something was wrong. Please God, no. Don’t let anything be wrong. Even in her tight grip, his hands started to shake.
“What do I need to do? Tell me what to do.”
“She’s coming,” Tillie said. “Help me.” She reached out her other hand and he took it in his own. She used her hold on him to raise herself up. “Get the cover.”
He looked down at their clasped hands. “Release me.”
She let go long enough for him to pull the sheet from the bottom of the bed. She braced her hands behind her, supporting herself, but once the sheet was to her knees, she reached for him once more.
She needed support, that much was certain. He managed to take both of her hands in one of his and arrange the pillows on the bed behind her back.
She gave him a grateful smile. “It’s almost time.”
“Jah.” That he knew as well.
Then suddenly her face changed, grew tense, and her breath caught. She squeezed his hand even tighter, using her hold on him to pull herself up a bit and bear down at the same time.
“She’s coming,” she panted. Lines of worry creased her face. Sweat plastered her hair to her cheeks. And he was so aware that there was a miracle happening right before him.
“Is it time to push?”
She gave him a tired laugh. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
In the golden glow of the lantern light, their eyes met. And it was as if they both recognized this moment as a miracle. A miracle that only they were sharing. He extracted his hands from hers.
“Don’t leave me.” The weariness was replaced with fear.
“I’m not leaving. The baby is coming.” He needed something to wrap the child in. He glanced around the room. On the peg next to the door she had hung the towel she had dried her hair on. It wasn’t soft, but it was nearby. It would have to do. He grabbed it and in a heartbeat was back at her side.
“This is it,” Tillie said.
Her whole body tensed. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth, and bore down once again. Levi could only stand helpless and watch.
He looked beneath the sheet just as the tiny baby slid into the world. A feeling like nothing he had ever experienced before came over him.
Tillie lay back against the pillows with a sigh. Her eyes were still closed as she said, “Clean her mouth.”
He was frozen in place. He had the towel in his arms ready to scoop up the baby and wrap it in the fabric, but he could only stand and look at it. It was a girl, as she had claimed. A perfect baby girl who waved her fists and tried to breathe this new thing called air.
“I don’t know what to do.” How many times had he said that tonight?
“Just take your finger and run it around inside her mouth.”
How did she know to do that?
He did as she instructed and the baby sucked in a deep breath and squalled like he had never heard before. Her tiny fists shook in the air. Her body
