The Constable's Child

The Birth (The End)

It was now Katrina's ninth and final month of her pregnancy. Her due date was just around the corner, at the end of the week. She and Ichabod had finished painting the nursery, bought all of the supplies, and called in the midwife to stay. All they had to do was prepare Katrina for the birthing process. The midwife, Louise Bennett, came in and talked to Katrina about what was to happen. Ichabod was abruptly shut out of the room because birth talk was strictly for women. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what would happen anyway; he decided that he already learned enough about the female anatomy from books and he didn't want to find out any more so he headed downstairs.

It was 6:00, a stormy Saturday evening; Ichabod and Katrina were sitting by the fireplace, glad that they were inside on the dreadful day. Katrina was reading from her fairy tale book when she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She grimaced as she leaned forward and held her stomach with both hands; Ichabod looked up from what he was reading and silently gasped as he saw his wife's face contort.

"Katrina? Are you alright?" Ichabod asked worriedly.

"Oh!" Katrina exclaimed.

Ichabod's heart almost stopped. He jumped up from his armchair and dropped his book, only faintly hearing the clatter it made as it fell to the floor. Almost in a single leap he was crouching next to the sofa, looking into Katrina's face.

"What is it? Katrina, what's wrong?" He asked, reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder.

She was trembling, her eyes shut tight. Scarcely breathing, Ichabod waited for Katrina to answer. She opened her eyes after a long moment, and turned slowly to meet his worried gaze.

"That hurt." She said breathlessly, sounding almost surprised. "That really hurt."

"Is it... I mean... Is it really... that time?" Ichabod asked.

Katrina nodded. "I... I think so..."

Ichabod's eyes widened; he remembered they were fully prepared for this.

"Alright, don't panic; everything's going to be fine." He said in a rather wild tone, jumping up. "You stay here, I'll get—"

"Sir?" Young Masbeth asked as he entered the parlor.

Ichabod looked and sighed in relief as he went over to the boy.

"Masbeth, I need you to help Katrina and go fetch Louise at once while I go to town and get Dr. Graham." He ordered.

"Yes, sir." Masbeth said before Ichabod rushed towards the front door. "But, wait! Sir, what about the—?"

Before Masbeth could finish his sentence however, Ichabod ran out the door and down the road into town towards Dr. Graham's office. The misty rain was making everything slick and muddy as well as difficult to navigate through; Ichabod was probably getting mud all over his boots, coat, and trousers, but at the moment he couldn't care less. Ignoring the rain, slippery mud, and occasional lightning strikes around him, he finally made it to Dr. Graham's office. He frantically pounded his fist on the door for a few seconds before the doctor finally answered.

"Constable Crane? What on Earth are you doing out here in the middle of this awful storm?" He asked. "You're soaked to the bone, lad!"

"Never mind that." Ichabod gasped for breath as he started to shiver in the rain. "Dr. Graham, I-I need you to come home with me right this minute."

"What's the matter, my boy?"

"It's my wife, Katrina. I believe she's about to have our baby, now. So it's ever so urgent that you come back to my house with me at once."