A Sister's Test (18 page)

By the time Grace returned from taking Anna to school, she’d noticed some pain in her lower back, so she decided to rest on the couch awhile.

She punched the pillow under her head a few times, trying to find a comfortable position, then finally dozed off.

Sometime later she awoke. Finding the sofa damp, she realized her water had broken. Her stomach cramped, and she groaned. “I think I’d better get to the birthing center as soon as I can.”

Figuring her folks were probably back from town by now, Grace headed over to their place to see if Mom would walk down to the phone shed and call someone to give her a ride to the Doughty View Midwifery Center, where many Amish women from their community went to have their babies.

By the time Grace reached her folks’ house, the pains had increased. They were still far enough apart that she figured they had plenty of time to get to the birthing center before the baby came.

She opened the back door and stuck her head inside. “Mom? Are you to home?”

No answer.

“Martha, are you here?”

No response.

Grace stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter as another contraction gripped her stomach. When it eased, she moved over to the table to take a seat and spotted a note lying there. It was from Martha, letting Mom know that she’d gone to work at Irene’s.

“I’d better go down to the woodworking shop and let Cleon know what’s happening,” Grace murmured. “I don’t think this boppli will wait until Mom gets home.”

Cleon had just begun sanding a set of cabinets when Grace entered the shop, looking pale and shaken.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, moving quickly to her side. “Has there been another attack?”

She shook her head. “I’m in labor.”

Cleon’s mouth fell open. “Are you sure?”

“My water broke, and I’m having some pretty hard contractions.” Grace grasped the edge of his workbench. “Mom and Dad still aren’t home, and Martha left a note on Mom’s table saying she was going to your mamm’s place to work. So I came here to see if you’d call someone to drive me to the birthing center.”

Cleon nodded. He led Grace over to a chair behind her dad’s desk. “Sit right here. I won’t be long.”

He made a dash for the door and ran all the way to the phone shed. His fingers trembled as he dialed the Larsons’ number, and he felt relief when Donna answered on the second ring.

“Grace is in labor. We need a ride to the Doughty View Midwifery Center,” he panted.

“Ray’s gone for the day, but I’ll be right over,” Donna said.

“We’ll be waiting for you at Roman’s shop.”

When Cleon returned to the shop, he found Grace slumped over the desk. “What’s happened? Are you okay?”

She lifted her head. “Yes.”

“I spoke with Donna, and she’s on her way. We should be at the birthing center soon.”

“I hope so, because the pains are coming quicker.”

“Do you think I should call 9-1-1 and get an ambulance here?”

Grace shook her head. “I’m sure we have enough time to get there before the boppli’s born.”

“That had better be the case, because I’ve never delivered a baby before—just a couple of calves.”

Grace gritted her teeth, and Cleon figured she was having another contraction. “I don’t think you’ll have to deliver this baby, so you needn’t look so worried,” she said.

A horn honked. “That must be Donna.” Cleon helped Grace out the door and into Donna’s car. “I’d better ride in the back with my wife,” he told Donna.

She nodded. “No problem.”

They’d only gone a short distance when Donna’s car overheated and she had to pull onto the shoulder of the road. “I told Ray to check under the hood the last time he filled my car with gas,” Donna mumbled. “I suspected there was a leak in the radiator, but he said he would check things out and take care of it if there was a problem.”

Grace moaned and clutched the front of Cleon’s shirt. “The pains are coming faster.”

Cleon’s mouth went dry. Was he going to have to deliver this baby?

As Ruth headed down the road toward home, her thoughts went to Martin. In just a few weeks they would become husband and wife, and she could hardly wait. She planned to work on her wedding dress this evening, and things were coming together. Cleon’s sister, Carolyn, would provide candles for the tables, and Martha and Sadie had agreed to be her attendants. Martin’s brother, Dan, and the bishop’s son, Toby, would be his attendants.

Ruth’s thoughts were halted when she spotted Donna Larson’s car stopped along the side of the road with the hood up and a curl of steam pouring out. Donna stood beside the car shaking her head.

Ruth guided her horse and buggy to the shoulder of the road, climbed down, and hurried over to Donna’s car. “What’s the problem? Did your car overheat?”

“Yes, and your sister’s in the backseat, about to have her baby.” Donna grimaced. “I left my cell phone at home, so I can’t even call for help. I was hoping another car would come by, but you’re the first person I’ve seen since the car overheated.”

Ruth hurried around to the back of the car and jerked the door open. She was surprised to see Cleon there, red-faced, wide-eyed, and hunched over Grace. “Don’t push, Grace. Not yet,” he instructed.

Grace’s face twisted in obvious pain. “It’s coming, Cleon. The boppli is coming.”

Ruth’s knees nearly buckled as she struggled against a wave of dizziness. She couldn’t just stand here like a ninny; she had to do something to help her sister. The only experience she’d had with birthing was watching one of their barn cats deliver her kittens, so she wasn’t sure what to do.

Cleon didn’t seem to notice Ruth as he continued to coach Grace. “Easy now. We’re almost there. That’s it. . . . I can see the head. . . . Okay now, push!”

Unable to watch, yet reluctant to look away, Ruth felt her eyes mist as she witnessed the miracle of birth. A few seconds later, she heard a lusty cry, and a newborn babe lay across her sister’s stomach.

“It’s a buwe!” Cleon cried. “We have ourselves a boy!”

Grace lay exhausted against the seat as she stroked her son’s downy dark head.
“Gott is gut,”
she murmured. “Jah, God is good.”

A
s Grace settled herself against the cleaned sofa cushions, snuggling a tiny bundle of joy in her arms, she reflected on all that had transpired during the last twenty-four hours. She’d fully intended to have her baby at the Doughty View Midwifery Center. Instead, she’d ended up giving birth in the backseat of Donna Larson’s car, with Cleon acting as midwife. After Ruth went to the nearest phone shed to call for help, Grace and the baby had been taken by ambulance to the hospital in Millersburg to be checked over. Then Ruth had gone home to tell her folks and Martin’s family the news and to see that Anna was picked up from school. This morning, Cleon had called Ray Larson to pick them up at the hospital, and now Grace and the baby were home where they belonged.

“Come say hello to your little bruder,” Grace said, motioning for Anna to take a seat beside her.

The child hovered near the sofa, wearing an expectant look on her face, but she finally sat down. “He’s sure tiny and red in the face. What’s his name?” she asked, leaning close to the baby.

“Don’t put your face so near to his,” Cleon said as he took a seat on the other side of Grace. “You’ve had a cold, and I don’t want you giving it to the boppli.”

Anna scrunched up her nose. “That was last week, Papa. I’m feelin’ fine now.”

“Even so, I’d prefer you not breathe any germs on the baby.”

Grace pursed her lips. “Cleon, I don’t think—”

He held up his hand. “She can look at the boppli without putting
her face right up to his.”

Grace figured Cleon was just being overprotective and would soon relax, so she decided it was best not to make an issue of it.

“What’s his name?” Anna asked again, looking up at Grace.

“Daniel,” Cleon said before Grace could respond. He reached over and touched the baby’s dark head. “Daniel Jacob Schrock.”

Anna’s forehead wrinkled. “Is he gonna cry all the time? Esta said her little sister, Molly, cried so much when she was a boppli that Esta had to stuff cotton in her ears so she could sleep.”

“Some babies do cry a lot, but hopefully Daniel won’t cry much at night,” Grace said.

“Can I hold him?”

“Yes.”

“No!”

Cleon and Grace had spoken at the same time, and Anna appeared confused.

“He’s too little for you to hold yet,” Cleon said.

Again, Grace fought the urge to dispute what he’d said. She didn’t want Anna to think she was usurping Cleon’s authority. Except for Carl Davis, Anna’s English grandfather, Cleon was the only father the child had ever known. They had developed a good relationship over the last several months, and Grace didn’t want anything to spoil it.

Grace patted Anna’s arm. “You can hold him when he’s a little bigger, okay?”

Anna nodded, but her eyes were downcast. She sat a few seconds, then hopped off the couch.

“Where are you going?” Grace called.

“To my room to play with my faceless doll. At least she’s not too little for me to hold.”

Grace turned to Cleon and was about to comment on his behavior toward Anna when Ruth stepped into the room, followed by Martha, Mom, and Dad.

Anxious to see her nephew, Ruth rushed into the room ahead of her family. “What a sweet little bundle of joy,” she exclaimed as
she approached the sofa.

Grace smiled. “Danki. We think we’ll keep him.”

In a confused babble of voices, everyone asked Grace how she was doing, how much the baby weighed, and what name had been chosen for him.

“His name is Daniel Jacob,” Cleon said. “He weighs eight pounds, four ounces, and Grace is doing fine.”

“A nice, healthy size.” Mom extended her hands. “May I hold my first grandson?”

Grace looked over at Cleon as if waiting for his approval. When he nodded, she handed the baby to Mom.

“It feels so good to hold him,” Mom said as she took a seat in the rocking chair. “Makes me think of the days when you girls were
bopplin
.” She smiled at Ruth. “Isn’t he a fine-looking baby?”

“He certainly is,” Ruth replied. “And when you get tired of holding him, it’ll be my turn.”