wavering, ne’er losing his encouraging smile.
Just before sunset one of the baby’s grandmothers took me outside to give me food. I sat there by myself, eating numbly as I thought about what more I could do. Something was strange about that baby. I could move it, but it just would not stay where I wanted it to be.
I held my head in my hands, defeated and increasingly scared. What did I know about childbirth? Of the dozens and dozens of babes I’d seen born, probably less than half had come through the process alive, and of those, maybe half again made it through their first month. This was a grim and grisly business, and things were appearing very bleak. What right had I to be here, pretending to know what I was doing? I was no midwife! I was no one special! Fear swelled as I chid myself for e’er thinking I could save three lives.
I looked up, startled. Syawa had said three lives. There was the mother, the baby, and . . . oh, you stupid, stupid, stupid girl!
Syawa had not stopt to eat, and as I re-entered the dark hut, the flickering firelight revealed him staring at the young mother as she stared at him. ’Twas as if her mind was his now, as if he was absorbing her pain. When I resumed my place at his side, he smiled without looking at me. “Are you ready?” he asked, a phrase I knew well, for it was the very thing he asked each morning before we set off on our hike.
I mumbled an affirmation. I wanted to tell him what I had figured out, but before I could, he urged me to proceed, adding that I need not worry—all would be well. Whilst he kept the young woman focused with his penetrating gaze, I felt her belly more carefully. There it was, hiding up behind the rib cage—the second baby.
I gestured to the other women about the second baby, explaining that every time we moved the first one, the second pushed it right back where it started. Our challenge was for the grandmothers to hold the second baby out of the way whilst I pushed the first one into place.
We all took a deep breath and got back to work. I’d seen women scream and writhe under a lot less provocation, but that young mother continued to stare blankly at Syawa’s dark eyes as if she felt no pain at all. Unfortunately, our efforts failed. There just wasn’t room to turn the first babe all the way ’round. At some point well past the middle of the night I had to admit my plan wasn’t going to work.
When I sat back on my heels, once again near tears, Syawa turned his head to look at me. I could see the firelight reflected in his eyes, the red-orange dancing in the black. His smile was warm, encouraging, filled with love and support. No one had e’er looked at me like that. Tears filled my eyes, and I looked away, ashamed of myself. If Syawa was so sure I could do this, who was I to think I couldn’t? I went back to work.
This time, instead of trying to turn the baby ’round head first, I pushed it the other way. Working through multiple contractions, I nudged the little legs ’til they were pointed straight down. When next the muscles tightened, we all saw the bulge in the mother’s belly slide into place. That baby might be coming into the world backwards, but at least it was going to come out.
Once the legs were in the birth canal, things proceeded rapidly. The contractions did their job, and before long tiny feet were visible. I worried to myself that the baby’s head might be too big, which happened once with a cow my father had. After the calf’s body dangled from the mother for some time, my father had no choice but to push it back so he could reach in and crush its skull to save the mother’s life. ’Twas a gruesome scene—not one I wanted to repeat.
I needn’t have worried. With the next contraction, the baby slithered out as easy as you please. It was a boy. One of the grandmothers was ready and waiting to take him, but he was blue and lifeless, which I knew was oft the case with breech births. I sucked what I could
Just before sunset one of the baby’s grandmothers took me outside to give me food. I sat there by myself, eating numbly as I thought about what more I could do. Something was strange about that baby. I could move it, but it just would not stay where I wanted it to be.
I held my head in my hands, defeated and increasingly scared. What did I know about childbirth? Of the dozens and dozens of babes I’d seen born, probably less than half had come through the process alive, and of those, maybe half again made it through their first month. This was a grim and grisly business, and things were appearing very bleak. What right had I to be here, pretending to know what I was doing? I was no midwife! I was no one special! Fear swelled as I chid myself for e’er thinking I could save three lives.
I looked up, startled. Syawa had said three lives. There was the mother, the baby, and . . . oh, you stupid, stupid, stupid girl!
Syawa had not stopt to eat, and as I re-entered the dark hut, the flickering firelight revealed him staring at the young mother as she stared at him. ’Twas as if her mind was his now, as if he was absorbing her pain. When I resumed my place at his side, he smiled without looking at me. “Are you ready?” he asked, a phrase I knew well, for it was the very thing he asked each morning before we set off on our hike.
I mumbled an affirmation. I wanted to tell him what I had figured out, but before I could, he urged me to proceed, adding that I need not worry—all would be well. Whilst he kept the young woman focused with his penetrating gaze, I felt her belly more carefully. There it was, hiding up behind the rib cage—the second baby.
I gestured to the other women about the second baby, explaining that every time we moved the first one, the second pushed it right back where it started. Our challenge was for the grandmothers to hold the second baby out of the way whilst I pushed the first one into place.
We all took a deep breath and got back to work. I’d seen women scream and writhe under a lot less provocation, but that young mother continued to stare blankly at Syawa’s dark eyes as if she felt no pain at all. Unfortunately, our efforts failed. There just wasn’t room to turn the first babe all the way ’round. At some point well past the middle of the night I had to admit my plan wasn’t going to work.
When I sat back on my heels, once again near tears, Syawa turned his head to look at me. I could see the firelight reflected in his eyes, the red-orange dancing in the black. His smile was warm, encouraging, filled with love and support. No one had e’er looked at me like that. Tears filled my eyes, and I looked away, ashamed of myself. If Syawa was so sure I could do this, who was I to think I couldn’t? I went back to work.
This time, instead of trying to turn the baby ’round head first, I pushed it the other way. Working through multiple contractions, I nudged the little legs ’til they were pointed straight down. When next the muscles tightened, we all saw the bulge in the mother’s belly slide into place. That baby might be coming into the world backwards, but at least it was going to come out.
Once the legs were in the birth canal, things proceeded rapidly. The contractions did their job, and before long tiny feet were visible. I worried to myself that the baby’s head might be too big, which happened once with a cow my father had. After the calf’s body dangled from the mother for some time, my father had no choice but to push it back so he could reach in and crush its skull to save the mother’s life. ’Twas a gruesome scene—not one I wanted to repeat.
I needn’t have worried. With the next contraction, the baby slithered out as easy as you please. It was a boy. One of the grandmothers was ready and waiting to take him, but he was blue and lifeless, which I knew was oft the case with breech births. I sucked what I could
Similar Books
