Judge Thee Not

by Edith Maxwell

  A stair creaked and Annie entered the room as quietly as I had. I nodded and smiled, but held my fingers against my lips so as not to interrupt Sissy. My heart eased to see my apprentice. I would need her help as time went by.

  As soon as I could I would ask Aoife to fetch the powder and hide it in a safe place in the kitchen. I knew many plants had toxic qualities and lily of the valley could be one. Kevin Donovan might very well be interested in a powdered form of it found in Irvin Barclay’s chest of drawers.

  Forty-four

  Sissy’s labor increased in intensity an hour later after darkness fell. Her legs trembled as she gripped the windowsill with both hands. Her pains came ninety seconds apart from start to start and lasted a minute, so she barely got a break. She’d said she had to remain standing, and when possible I liked to follow my clients’ lead for what position they wanted to labor in.

  I left Annie with her and ran down the stairs to the kitchen. “Aoife, it’s time to boil water, but first I have a favor to ask of thee.”

  “The babies are coming? I’m not sure I can stand the excitement.” She patted her chest. “What is it yer needing me to do?”

  “Is Irvin back?”

  “Not yet, more’s the pity.” She made a tsking sound.

  Still, I kept my voice low. “Sissy told me she found a small tin of powder in his bureau drawer. The tin is labeled Lily of the Valley. I need thee to find it and hide it here in the kitchen.”

  “Why in the name of Saint Bridget would yeh want me to be doing such a thing?” She stared at me.

  “I have a suspicion about the tin and I need to convey it to the police after I leave here.” When she opened her mouth to ask more questions, I held up my hand. “I can’t say more at this time. Will thee go fetch it, please? I need to get back to thy mistress.”

  “Of course I will, Miss Carroll.”

  “I thank thee.”

  She followed me up the stairs but turned the opposite way at the top landing. Before I reentered Sissy’s bedchamber, I took a moment to hold Kevin and Emmaline’s Rosalie in the Light of God, and Sissy and her babies, too, that they all would survive today’s ordeals. When I went in, Sissy sat naked and panting on the edge of the bed, which had had the covers removed. Annie was mopping up the floor in front of the window with a cloth.

  “Well, well. It looks like thy water broke.” I quickly washed my hands in the basin and hurried to the bed.

  “Just now.” Annie sat back on her knees.

  “Very good, Sissy.” I stroked her shoulder.

  Her nostrils flared. “It doesn’t feel good. It hurts like the very devil.” She slid down and squatted on the floor, gripping the bed behind her with both hands.

  “Thee has lost the cushion of the waters, but this also means the first baby will come that much sooner.” I waited until the next pain and her accompanying guttural groans passed. I knelt in front of her.

  “I’m going to assess thy progress again.” A moment later I slid my hand out. She was fully dilated, making the womb and the canal a continuous passageway. “Thee can push any time thee feels the need. Squatting is a good open position for bringing out the baby, too, if thee can tolerate it.”

  Annie washed her hands, too. Without being asked, she brought me a large towel. She laid out the scissors and cord string on the dressing table, and squeezed a bit of oil into a small bowl. A stack of baby blankets was also at hand.

  I tucked the towel between Sissy’s legs. Childbirth could be a messy affair.

  Half an hour of pushing and growling passed before I spied light hair at her opening. “I can see a head, Sissy. Thy first baby is almost here. Give me a good hard push now.”

  But even as she bore down, the door burst open. Irvin stood in the opening.

  “Cook said you . . .” His voice trailed off and he stared, mouth agape.

  My heart chilled. Was he here in anger? Had he discovered the missing tin?

  “Go away!” Sissy cried.

  Aoife appeared in the doorway behind him. “I told him not to come up here but he wouldn’t listen.”

  Annie hurried to his side. “Mr. Barclay, this is no place for a man. Your babies are about to be born, and we’ll come and get you after they are.” She ushered him out and Aoife followed. Annie shut the door with a firm click.

  Whew. He hadn’t said anything about the tin. He must have thought the babies were already born and wanted to meet them. “He’s gone,” I said to Sissy, rolling my eyes at Annie. “One more good push for me now.”

  Sissy put her whole body into the effort, and we were rewarded with a tiny baby girl sliding into my waiting hands.

  A baby who lay pale and limp. I hurried to suction the mucous from her mouth and nose with the rubber bulb syringe, then turned her onto her belly on my left hand and rubbed her back vigorously with my right. “Come on, baby,” I whispered. “Breathe for me.” I held her up by her heels and gave her back a gentle whack.

  She filled her lungs and wailed, waving her hands and kicking her feet when I laid her down.

  “Thee has a daughter, Sissy.” My voice was full of emotion, as it invariably became at the moment of every birth.

  Annie wiped a tear from the edge of her eye.

  “I do?” Sissy asked. “Praise God. Help me up, please.”

  Annie stepped in without my asking and helped Sissy onto the bed and then sitting up supported by pillows. A minute later I’d cut the cord and laid the baby in Sissy’s waiting arms, skin to skin, with a blanket covering the baby. The new mother’s smile as she gazed at her daughter was as tender as I’d ever seen.

  “I didn’t die, and neither did she,” she murmured.

  “You both did very well,” Annie said in a soft voice.

  “Yes,” I said. “Remember, thy second baby will be along by and by.”

  “How long until that happens?” Annie asked. She hadn’t assisted me at a twin birth before.

  “It can be a matter of minutes or up to an hour.”

  But nothing happened for quite some time. With our help, Sissy put the baby to her breast but the newborn was so tiny she had trouble latching on. I estimated her weight at about five and a half pounds. At least her breathing seemed healthy. The lungs were always at risk in a premature infant.

  When I palpated the second twin’s position, my heart sank. It still seemed to be rump down. I listened for a heartbeat now the first twin was out and at first I couldn’t hear anything. Finally I thought I detected a beat but it was so faint I might have been mistaken. I prayed the baby was alive. If it had died in utero, its little body would already be in a state of decrepitude. The labor would be harder, too. Live babies seemed to stimulate the uterus to keep contracting. And of course Sissy’s sorrow would have a great impact on her healing and on her ability to mother the living twin.

  A full fifty minutes after the little girl was born, Sissy’s contractions finally started up again.

  “I can’t do it again, Rose,” she whimpered.

  “Of course thee can.” I removed the baby and handed her to Annie. “Wrap her up good for warmth, please.” The best place for a newborn, especially such a small one, was against her mother’s skin, but in lieu of that, a tightly wrapped blanket would keep her warm and feeling secure.

  Sissy stayed where she was as her womb began to contract in earnest. She raised her knees and gripped them, once again resorting to the deep, guttural, animal-like vocalizations so many women involuntarily produced.

  Sure enough, the birth was not an easy one, despite her passage already being open from the first twin’s emergence. The baby’s derriere came out with both legs tucked up inside. With another push, one popped out, then the other and most of the torso. One shoulder seemed to be hung up. Annie stood near Sissy’s head, encouraging her, rubbing her shoulders, but when she glanced at me my apprentice look distinctly worried.

  My thoughts went to Orpha and to a shoulder dystocia birth from over a year ago. I knew what to do. After a great de
al of maneuvering to turn the shoulders, I had to make sure the head was born promptly. It’s exceedingly dangerous for the chest to be out and not the head, because the brain can be starved of oxygen. The tiny boy’s size helped, and at last he lay in my hands.

  “Thee has a son,” I murmured to Sissy. But he was as flaccid and pale as his sister had been at first. I once again massaged a twin, clicked the soles of his feet, held him upside down, and willed him to take a breath. I could see his heart beating in his chest but he was even smaller than his sister. When he gave a sickly wail I heaved a breath of relief.

  His twin gave a cry in response. I glanced at Annie’s worried face before I handed Sissy her boy, again covering them both with a flannel blanket.

  “A son.” She beamed down at him.

  “Hold him close and rub his back, Sissy. I fear he is quite weak.”

  She looked up in alarm. “Why is he weak?”

  “Both twins are at least six weeks early. Thee knows that. Speak to him as thee holds him close. He has spent months hearing thy voice from within and it can be a comfort. He may well thrive, with thy warmth and care.”

  Or he might not live through the hour.

  Forty-five

  The little fellow did live through the hour. He was smaller than the girl and had even more trouble suckling, and his breathing was strained. I was not hopeful about his future.

  Aoife popped her head in the door. “May I?”

  I looked to Sissy for the answer. She sat propped up in bed with a wrapped baby in each arm, a shawl draped over her shoulders.

  “Come in, Mrs. O’Malley, please, and meet my children.” Sissy’s voice was strong. She was recovering remarkably well. But she was young and her labor, while arduous, had not been overly long.

  Aoife hurried to the bedside. “Ah, take a gander of the wee ones.” A smile split her broad face. “What have yeh got there, Mrs. Barclay?”

  “A son,” Sissy lifted the boy a little, “and a daughter.”

  “Bless our sainted Mary, so yeh do. They’re tiny bits of things, then, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are,” Sissy said. “But they’ll grow, won’t they, Rose?”

  All I could do was nod. Their growth was in God’s hands, not mine. “Is Irvin still about?” I asked Aoife.

  “He’s downstairs. Shall I fetch him? He’s about to pace a hole in the carpet, he’s that eager to meet his babies.”

  “I’ll go and get him in a few minutes,” I said.

  “I’ll nip down and let the man know.” She slapped her head. “I’m after losing my mind, I am. I came up to see if I can bring yeh some nourishment, Mrs. Barclay. A nice bowl of soup, a piece of pie?”

  Sissy blinked. “Why, yes, I find myself quite hungry all of a sudden.”

  “And for the midwives?” Aoife smiled at Annie and me.

  I shook my head. “We’ll have something before we leave, but I thank thee.”

  After we helped Sissy clean up and don a fresh garment, I washed up, too, and left her and the babies with Annie. I hadn’t been anywhere in the house except the kitchen and Sissy’s bedchamber, and when I reached the downstairs hall I wasn’t sure behind which closed door to find Irvin. I picked one on the right because I heard voices. Perhaps Aoife was discussing something with him.

  When I pushed open the door, Irvin stood with his back to me in front of a large desk. He was speaking not to the cook but into a telephone.

  “And good riddance, too, that’s what I say. That woman was no good for anyone.”

  That woman. Mayme Settle or his first wife? Either way, I should not be standing here listening. I turned to go, but the doorknob was slightly loose. It clicked when I grasped it.

  Irvin whirled. He dropped the telephone receiver on the desk and took several strides to loom over me. His eyes narrowed and his mouth turned down in rage.

  “You’re spying on me. I knew it. This midwife business is only a nasty guise to get into my house and snoop around.” Spittle flew out of his mouth.

  I stepped back into the hall and held up both hands. “Thee is wrong, Irvin. I just spent an evening helping thy wife deliver premature twins. I came down to say thee may go up and meet them now.”

  His eyes widened and he shook off his anger. “Do I have a son?”

  I sighed inwardly. The only care of so many men was a male heir. “Yes, a son and a daughter, too.” At least his mood had switched, but he wouldn’t have reacted as he did if he were not worried about what I’d overheard.

  “He will be Irvin William Barclay, Junior.” He began to push past me but I laid my hand on his arm.

  “Wait. Thee must know the babies came very early. They are both quite small, and the boy in particular is weak. It is possible he will not survive. Please treat Sissy with care. She’s been through an ordeal.” And it isn’t over yet.

  “Balderdash.” He batted away the idea. “Any son of mine will be strong and hearty.” He hurried up the stairs with great clomping steps.

  I followed him up at a slower pace. When I entered Sissy’s room, Irvin was sitting on a chair holding one of the babies. I couldn’t see the face, but assumed it was the boy.

  “Aren’t they wonderful, husband?” Sissy asked, beaming at him.

  “Yes.” He frowned and gazed at me. “Why is his breathing so noisy, Miss Carroll?”

  I glanced at Annie, who gave me a small nod. “His lungs are not fully formed yet.” I went to Irvin’s side. The newborn fought to breathe even more than before I’d gone downstairs, and he made a rasping sound with each inhalation. “He’s having trouble getting the air he needs.”

  “Can’t you do something for him?” He gently stroked the baby’s cheek with his forefinger, which looked monstrously large against the tiny face.

  “Sadly I cannot. We have no medicines to improve his condition.” Sometimes steam could ease breathing, but with someone so small, steam that was too hot could burn him, and it was very hard to manage holding a newborn over a steaming bowl. The little fellow would make it or he wouldn’t.

  Sissy had been listening. Now she looked at me, horrified. “Do you mean he might die?”

  I nodded slowly. “It’s possible.”

  “Then we need to summon a priest immediately! He needs his last rites.”

  Annie, who also attended the Catholic Church, laid a calming hand on Sissy’s shoulder. “I’ll go telephone for Father Nilan.” She hurried out.

  Irvin curled his lip at his wife. “Papist poppycock.”

  “Irvin, I told you I wasn’t going to give up my faith when I married you,” Sissy said, her tone harsh. “I didn’t then and I will not now. My children will be raised in the Roman Catholic Church and that’s that.” She held her daughter close.

  This was not the time for marital strife. I cleared my throat. “Let us focus on the twins’ health, shall we?” Irvin grasped the baby boy rather too tightly. “Irvin, please calm thyself and don’t restrict thy son’s body quite so closely. Instead thee might walk him about and rock him gently.” I kept my voice soft.

  Irvin did as I suggested. He took the baby near the open window and rocked him, humming softly. The rasping quieted. Sissy sat with her daughter but her gaze was on her husband. Annie slipped back into the room.

  “He’s coming,” she murmured to Sissy.

  But before the priest could arrive, Irvin’s shoulders slumped and he stopped moving. I went to his side.

  “He’s gone.” His voice shook. “My boy is gone.”

  Forty-six

  The next hour was a difficult one, with distraught Irvin and Sissy unable to comfort each other. The food Aoife had brought Sissy sat untouched. I held both parents, as well as the baby’s released soul, in God’s Light for a moment. After five minutes of Irvin continuing to rock his dead son to the tune of Sissy’s sobs, I held out my hands.

  “Thy wife needs to say goodbye, too,” I murmured.

  He glared at me, but handed over the now-silent bundle.

  Sissy
’s face running with tears, she extended the girl twin to him. “Your daughter needs you, husband.”

  Irvin turned away instead, his brow in his hand. Each person had his own way of expressing sorrow, and I had seen couples driven apart permanently by a child’s death. Annie took the daughter while I handed the boy’s body to Sissy. The black-garbed priest blew into the room in a flurry but was perfunctory in his ministering. He offered his condolences, said a short prayer in Latin over the baby, and touched his forehead with oil. The smell of alcohol on the priest’s breath was a jarring touch to the grief in the room. When he left abruptly after he was finished, I didn’t mind.

  Annie looked exhausted and sad. She’d never seen a baby die shortly after its birth. As for me, I knew by now I would feel the impact on my own emotions later. As a midwife, I couldn’t allow my own grief to interfere with caring for my clients, who had a much greater need. Such sad deaths were not frequent but did happen in our practice. Still, I had to remind myself my competent apprentice was only eighteen. Annie hadn’t had my years of experience. I expected she was famished, as well. My own stomach was distinctly empty.

  Aoife had come back upstairs when she heard Sissy’s wails and hovered like the mother hen she was. Irvin finally left the room. I held my breath a moment, hoping he wasn’t going to his own room to discover his possession missing, but the thud of his heavy steps diminished as he made his way down the stairs.

  “I’d like thee to try nursing thy daughter again before we leave,” I said to Sissy. I took the boy and laid him gently on the bureau, lifting the blanket up over his face. I didn’t know what arrangements they would make for burial, but suspected Sissy would want to bring his body home to her mother and sisters if she could.

  Annie handed Sissy the little girl, who now squirmed and started to cry. I gave Sissy several pointers on how to position herself and the infant, and how to make sure the little mouth opened wide enough and latched on adequately to be able to take nourishment without hurting her mother.