The sun was hugging the horizon when the field slaves made their way to the wagon, to turn in their bundles. Ida was drenched with sweat as she heaved over her last bundle to the slave on the wagon. Clark was sitting astride his horse, idly scratching his crotch, as he watched each bundle loaded onto the wagon bed. Ida could smell him from ten feet away and she felt her gorge rise and she swallowed hard.
“Looks like you is feelin’ better, Ida.” Lester said, sounding a bit disappointed. Ida said nothing of course and kept her head down and walked slowly on, behind the others. Her body was screaming now, the throbbing almost made her faint. Liza slipped an arm around her, her large girth taking on the slighter woman’s weight. Ida may have a large belly, but she was a delicately boned woman and slight of stature. Ida was thankful for the older woman’s help. Praise the Lawd, she thought, you done sent down an angel.
Ida lay on her cornhusk bed that had been strung up within a rough wooden frame. The bed sat on the dirt floor, near the rear of the small clapboard cabin. Several tallow candles were lit about the room. Ida watched as several women worked about the room. One came in carrying a small caldron of steaming water; its herbs fragrantly filled the cabin air. Liza’s youngest, Nan, sat with a rag beside Ida, wiping her face. Ida stared into space as another contraction gripped her, pain dazing her eyes. It took her breath away.
Liza squatted before her and spread Ida’s legs. This was Ida’s sixth pregnancy. The last five babies had died before birth, this was the only one that had made it this far. Ida’s man was over at the neighboring farm and hadn’t been to see her in several months. Big John Grover was a strapping light skinned man. He had been used to mate with several other women on the Anderson’s farm as well as the nearby plantations. His progeny were numerous and strong children. It was hoped that because he was so strong, that this baby would live. It was August 5th, 1845.
Ida felt Liza’s gentle hands pressing her great stomach, as another contraction took over.
“Ida, honey, you gotta push now. We gotta get that baby born safe. You can do it.” Liza said, her voice soft and reassuring. Ida closed her eyes and bore down, pushing with all her might. When she opened her eyes, she saw bright white spots floating around her. She could hear Liza far away, telling her to push again. Ida didn’t like the little white spots and closed her eyes and pushed again, as hard as her tired body could. The pain was excruciating and left her breathless. It twisted in her like a serpent; even Clark’s beatings weren’t this bad. She heard Liza tell her to hold up and she waited, like a puppet, waiting to be told what to do next. She heard push and began to push once more. She felt a burning in her bottom, she felt her flesh tear, but Ida had no strength to scream.
Ida felt fluid and something pass between her legs. Old Bitsy, the oldest slave among them, was holding a candle just over Liza’s shoulders. The light flickered off her withered, weathered features, softening out the edges of her face. Ida noticed that Old Bitsy was smiling at her, her teeth white against her sun darkened face. Curiously, Ida noted that Old Bitsy had lost another tooth, and wondered if it had been knocked out or just fallen out?
“It’s a girl Ida, you gotta healthy baby girl. A beautiful girl.” Liza said triumphantly. She held the silent child up and showed the bloody baby to Ida. Quickly and efficiently, Liza tied the umbilical cord with some twine and cut the cord with a small knife. Lifting the baby by her feet, Liza gave the baby swat on the tiny butt. The baby jerked and Liza lightly smacked again. This time the baby let out a wavering cry. Taking a warm damp rag, Liza wiped the baby clean of blood and the vernix that coated the tiny body. She then bundled the pale child tightly in soft swaddling and placed the baby in Ida’s arms. Liza pushed down on Ida’s belly and Ida grunted from the pain. Soon the afterbirth came out and Liza handed it to one of the women to dispose of it. She took more warm scented water and cleaned Ida’s ravaged bottom and cleaned the blood off her thighs.
Ida had fallen asleep, holding her baby in her arms. Liza slipped out of the cabin and waved at one of the boys playing in the yard. The sun had disappeared, but the moon was full and bright.
“Git up yonder and tell the massa he got a new child. Tell him it be a gal.” Liza said. Dark Henry nodded and was off in a flash, running up to the main house to relay the message. The five-year-old would feel important, taking the news to his master. Liza smiled watching the child move quickly. Once Anderson knew about the child, Ida wouldn’t have to go into the field for a few days; Ida would have the luxury of working around the yard and main house, light duty.
Liza walked back into the dim cabin and heard the baby whimpering. She took the baby, knowing of another woman who could nurse the child until Ida got some rest. The baby was a small little thing and she was very light skinned. Big John was a redbone and it looked like this little one was taking after her daddy. Liza examined the newborn. The baby looked to be strong and healthy, that was
