The Amish Midwife

Anne pulled open a lower cabinet door and gave Joseph a pink gown from her stash of baby clothes. She put several sleepers and T-shirts in a spare diaper bag for him, too.

He dressed Leah while Anne fixed a few ounces of electrolyte water in a bottle. When it was ready, Anne took Leah from him and settled in a rocker in the corner. He took a seat in a ladder-back chair on the opposite side of the room. He leaned forward and braced his massive arms on his thighs. Even seated, he took up more room than most men. Her office had never felt so cramped.

The baby sucked eagerly, clutching the bottle and holding it while watching Anne with wide blue eyes. Leah belched without spitting up and smiled around the rubber nipple, making Anne giggle. What a cutie she was with her big eyes and wispy blond hair.

Anne stole a glance at Joseph. He had flaxen hair, too, cut in the usual bowl style that Amish men wore. It was straight as wheat straw except for the permanent crease his hat made over his temples. His eyes weren’t blue, though. They were gray. As dark as winter storm clouds. When coupled with his dour expression, they were enough to chill the friendliest overture.

Not that she and Joseph were friendly neighbors. The only time she saw him other than church was when she was chasing after his miserable, escape-happy goats and trying to drive them out of her garden, while he was laughing at her from the other side of the fence. He didn’t laugh out loud, but she had seen the smirk on his face. She thought he secretly enjoyed watching her run after his animals. “How are your goats, Joseph?”

He frowned. “What?”

“Your goats. How are they? They haven’t been in my garden for days.”

A twitch at the corner of his mouth could have been the start of a smile, but she wasn’t sure. “They’re fine. I reckon they got tired of you flapping your apron or your towels at them and decided to stay home for a spell.”

“Or it could be because I fixed the hole in your fence.”

He looked surprised. “Did you? I’m grateful. I’ve been meaning to get to that. How is she doing?”

Anne looked at the quiet baby in her arms and smiled. The scowl on the baby’s face was gone. She blinked owlishly. “She’s trying to stay awake, but her eyelids are growing heavier by the minute. She seems fine right now. All we can do is wait and see if she keeps this down.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “At least she isn’t crying. It near broke my heart to listen to her.”

So he did have a heart, and a tender one, at that. Her estimation of his character went up another notch.

“You said this started this morning. Was there anything different? Do you think she could have put something in her mouth without you seeing it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Has there been a change in her food? Did you make sure and boil the water before mixing her formula?’ Most of the Amish farms had wells. Without testing, it was impossible to tell if the water was safe for an infant to drink. She always advised boiling well water.

“Ja. I followed the directions on the can I bought yesterday. Her mother left me some mixed bottles, but I went through them already. The can of powdered formula in the bag was nearly empty.”

“You bought a new can of formula? Did you get the same brand?” That might account for the upset stomach.

He shrugged. “I think so. Aren’t they all alike?”

“Not really.”

“She hasn’t spit up your fancy water. She seems fine now. Danki.”

Anne gazed tenderly at the babe in her arms. Babies were all so precious. Each and every one was a blessing. Times like this always brought a pang of pain to her heart. She wished her baby had survived. Even though she had been only seventeen and pregnant out of wedlock, she would have loved her little boy with all her heart.

But God had other plans for their lives. He’d called her son home before he had a chance to draw a breath here on earth. She didn’t understand it, but she had to follow the path He laid out even if it didn’t include motherhood.

She refused to feel sorry for herself. She would hold her son in Heaven when her time came. She loved her job as a midwife and she was grateful she could help bring new life into the world and comfort families when things went wrong. Her own tragedy left her well suited to understand a mother’s grief.

Anne stroked the baby’s cheek. “She does seem to be better, but let’s give it an hour or so before we celebrate.”

“One less hour of sleep is fine with me as long as you don’t mind.”

Anne looked up, surprised that he would consider her comfort when he looked as tired and worn out as she felt. She had never seen him looking so worried. “Where is Fannie? Why did she leave Leah with you?”

He was silent for so long that Anne thought he wasn’t going to tell her anything. He stared at his clasped hands and finally spoke. “Fannie brought the baby to me four days ago. She said she had to have surgery and couldn’t keep the child with her in the hospital. She asked me to watch her for a few days.”

“What about the baby’s father? Why couldn’t he watch the child?”

“He had to get to New York for a job interview.”

“Which hospital is she in?”

“She didn’t say. She’ll be back soon. Probably this morning.”

“It seems strange that she didn’t tell you which hospital she was going to. Did she leave a phone number or a way to contact her?”

He rose to his feet. “I should go. It’s not right that I’m here alone with you. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. If the bishop hears of this, it could mean trouble for you. You have your reputation to protect.”

“I’m sure Bishop Andy would understand. You were only thinking of the baby.”

Speaking of the bishop reminded Anne of her regretful behavior toward Joseph. “I want to beg your forgiveness for my grave lapse in manners the other day. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m humiliated and so very sorry that I acted as I did. You would be within your rights to report me to the church elders for discipline.”

“It’s forgiven. The babe seems fine now. Danki. I should go home.” He reached for the baby, and Anne let him take her.

“Feed her the electrolyte water if she wakes up hungry again tonight. Tomorrow you can mix a little formula with it. One part milk to three parts water. If she tolerates that, mix it half and half for the next feeding.”

“I understand. Guten nacht, Anne. You’ve been a great help. I appreciate the loan of the clothes, too.”

“Tell Fannie she can keep them if she wants. Good night, Joseph,” Anne called after him, but he was already out the door.

Was he that concerned about her reputation or was he reluctant to answer any more questions about his sister? At least he had forgiven her for striking him. That was a relief. Shaking her head over the whole thing, Anne put out the lights and climbed the stairs to bed for what was left of her night.

Waking at her usual time, Anne fixed a pot of strong coffee and made her plans for the day. She didn’t have any mother’s visits scheduled, so her whole day could be devoted to getting her pumpkins up to her roadside stand. After two cups and some toast, she was ready to get to work.

Outside, she took her old wheelbarrow out to her patch and began loading it with ripe pumpkins. Her white ones and the traditional orange carving pumpkins were her bestsellers, but she did have a number of cooking pumpkins ready to be picked. She added three of them to the top of the heap in her wheelbarrow for her own use. Having planted a new cooking variety, she was anxious to see if they were as good as her tried-and-true heirloom ones.

A crooked front wheel made pushing the wheelbarrow a chore, but getting it fixed would have to wait. If she came out ahead on her produce stand this fall, she was definitely investing in a new pushcart. Leaving the barrow at the front steps, she carried her cooking pumpkins in and put them in the sink to be washed. She stood contemplating another cup of coffee when she heard someone shouting her name.

She opened the front door. Joseph came sprinting toward her with Leah in his arms.

Chapter Three (#ulink_cfd829b6-4b96-5071-9a00-e678674594e4)

“Joseph, what’s wrong?” Anne held the door wide for him.

He rushed inside looking frazzled and more exhausted than the last time she had seen him. “I did as you told me. She was fine the rest of the night. When I gave her some of the formula this morning, she threw up again and her face got all blotchy. Now she won’t stop crying.”

Anne could see that for herself. Joseph’s blue shirt had a large wet streak down the front. The unmistakable odor of sour milk emanated from him. Leah continued to wail. It was hard to tell if she was red in the face from crying or from something else. Anne began to suspect the child had an intolerance to milk.

She took the baby from him, sat down in a kitchen chair and unwrapped the blanket Leah was swaddled in. The baby was wearing the long pink gown that Anne had given Joe last night. She untied the ribbon from around the hem and pulled up the material, exposing Leah’s kicking legs and belly and more red blotches. Anne had seen this kind of reaction before and was almost sure she was right. “I think she may have an allergy to the formula.”