The Recalcitrant Wife

Chapter 13: A Wayward Midwife

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T

hat evening I thought about what it would be like when the house was filled with children of our own. I lay in bed, one hand creating circles on my swollen abdomen. It wouldn't be long now—three or four weeks at the most. Jamie nuzzled my neck, and joined me in my circular ministrations, singing a Scottish lullaby. I soon fell asleep.

Three weeks had come and gone, and I was becoming exceedingly cranky. I couldn't see my feet, had leg and back pains if I stood for too long a time, and my ankles had grown to twice their size. How could Jamie stand to look at me? Or put up with my increasingly volatile temper for that matter. The man was a saint. I wanted nothing more than to have this child in my arms and out of my womb. All cordial feelings of motherhood had fled my mind. What was the good lord thinking when he conjured up the idea of carrying a child in one's body? Why couldn't we carry the fetus about in a pouch like a kangaroo? That would certainly be an improvement on this nonsense.

My midwife visited, and said labor would probably start in another day or two. Margrit was from Prussia. She had oodles of experience, and I went with her at a few births. Her aseptic technique was flawless. Indeed, I watched her like a hawk. It was not in my interests to die of childbed fever, thank you very much. I felt secure that I was in able hands.

As predicted, two days later, the cramps began, and intensified so much so that they had awakened me. I nudged Jamie in bed. He turned over and continued to snore.

"Jamie," I whispered. "It's time."

"Hmn ..." he mumbled, sleepily.

I sat up. "Jamie, this baby is coming."

He blinked, sitting up abruptly. "Ye mean, now?"

"Of course, I mean now. Can you ride over to Margrit's, and tell her to come quickly."

He kissed me tenderly, and hopped out of bed, dressing as fast as possible.

"Aye."

"Can you tell Taryn as well? I'm certain she'd be willing to can stay with me until Margrit arrives."

# # # # #

I'd been 'round women 'bout to give birth, and kent as it would take a good long time, but still I raced to Taryn's. It wouldna do for my wife to be alone and in pain. I expected she'd be scairt as well, tho' she'd most probably deny it. O' a truth, I was scairt enough for the both o' us. Whilst the idea o' my own wee bairn was a pleasure to be sure, the chance of losin' my Sassenach was no atall.

I rapped at Taryn's door. Murtagh came to greet me.

"Ah ... Jamie. What's amiss?"

"The bairn is comin' this night. Can ye see fit to lend me yer wife for a few hours, afore the midwife arrives?"

"Aye. I'll go fetch her."

Murtagh left the door open for me to enter. Taryn came outta the bedroom, bustlin' 'bout, gatherin' a few thin's into a basket. We then ventured out to the stable, where I saddled op Taryn's mare. Quickly then, she was on her way to our home. That eased my mind a bit, as I spurred my animal on to Margrit's place.

. . . . .

The Thomann farm wasna a great distance from ours, but I was met by her husband who told me, "Dis ist not gud. It rains, yet it pours, as dey say. Frau Thomann ist at de MacLachlan's. De lady dere ist about to bring twins inta dis vorld. She vast not due for dat until de next month. My vife vill no doubt be dere for half de following day."