Soon she felt a chair under her and she was lowered down but it was too uncomfortable to sit down. “No, help me stand,” she mumbled. No sooner had she said it then she was standing again, she focused on putting strength in her own legs. She heard William report how many and how often the pains were coming, but an overwhelming feeling of pressure took her by surprise and she instinctively leaned over and grunted. “It is time . . .” she groaned in the middle of a breath. The pressure finally eased slightly, as well as the pain, and she tried to focus on what was happening. William was saying something about lying down, Mrs. Reynolds was barking orders for linen and water, Serafina was brushing back the damp strands of hair on her face, and one of the maids were escorting two scared little boys who apparently had made it home away from the scene. She heard them discussing carrying her to the guest bedroom down the hall. She could go no further.
As if on cue, another contraction came immediately after the last one let up, “I need to push,” she said wildly, “just lower me down to the floor.” She fully understood they were in the entryway but she was not in control of her body at the moment because every muscle was contracting. She grunted with it and felt a sense of relief in doing so. She grunted again before she took a breath and then grunted again. She hadn’t even noticed that she was now horizontal and laying on the floor until the labor pain eased for a brief moment. She took a deep breath but her respite from the pressure was brief because another round hit her.
She heard the gentle coaxing of her husband next to her and heard something from Mrs. Reynolds about pushing and that was all the incentive she needed. She gave one hard push and felt the baby’s head emerge. She took another deep breath and gave one final push, and then groaned again as the rest of the baby came out. She immediately felt relief from the pressure and relaxed back into her husband’s arms, panting. She waited. Her eyes were closed and she was trying to catch her breath. She heard all the commotion but was confused. Something wasn’t right. She opened her eyes and looked at William. His face was white and wore a foreign look she did not recognize. She followed his gaze down to her feet where her baby was . . .where her baby should be crying . . .where her baby was blue and not moving. “William, what is wrong?” she whispered. William held her head and kissed her forehead. His lips moved to say something, but Elizabeth did not hear it. Everything went black.
*****
She heard William’s voice softly calling her name, asking her to open her eyes. Her eyelids felt so heavy! She slowly opened them and tried to focus on his face and her surroundings. She was in bed, and he was sitting next to her. Her vision cleared and a very concerned face was looking back at her. He reached for her face and gently pushed her hair behind her ear.
“Are you finally awake? How do you feel?” He asked.
His tone was so gentle and soft. She evaluated his expression, he was very anxious and had the most concerned look on his face. She quickly recalled all of the moments before she blacked out. Her baby had been born silent and still, with none of the hearty red cheeks she had seen with her sons. She recalled that foreign look on her husband’s face. Part of it still lingered in his furrowed brow. She reached up to his brow and tried to smooth it. He leaned into her hand and he reached up and grasped her hand ever so gently and kissed it. The gesture was all she needed; he loved her and needed her during this difficult time. She fought back tears and said, “I guess it is good that we got our feathers before the storm.” His concerned look changed to confusion.
“We can make it through anything, Elizabeth, our love is that strong.”
She couldn’t wait any longer. She had to ask. “Was it a boy or girl?” His expression changed ever so slightly but she didn’t know how to explain what she saw.
“A girl.” A small smile graced his lips. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips.
Tears started forming in her eyes. He had wanted a girl so badly and now they had lost her. “I think we should still name her.”
“Of course we will name her. But since she was so stubborn I know just the name for her, dearest Elizabeth.”
She was deeply hurt he would talk so callously about their dead baby. Why was he still smiling? “William, that is not funny. How can you talk about her like that?”
“Oh, you will see, she has quite the fighting spirit too.”
“Has? You mean had.”
“Oh no, I meant has. She took a full five minutes before she let out the biggest loudest scream I have ever heard from a baby!”
Suddenly she was wide awake and trying to rise from her supine position. “She is alive? But she was not moving and was so blue!” William tried to help her sit up.
“Yes! She is doing wonderfully! Neither of the boys were this loud! I would say she is stronger than either of them were when they were born.”
She threw her arms around his neck. “I must see her! Please, help me up!” Her head started spinning. “On second thought, perhaps you should bring her to me.” He kissed her and gingerly laid her back down on the pillow.
“You will love her. She is just like I pictured her. I will be right back.”
It seemed to take forever for William to return, but when he entered she understood why, He was walking so gently and cradled a squirming bundle in his arms. She heard her then and it was the most beautiful cry her ears had ever heard! Her baby was alive! Tears of joy burst from her eyes as she reached for the bundle. He gently placed the baby in her arms and she saw a bright, energetic, very healthy looking, but crying baby. She couldn’t contain her joy any further; her shoulders shook and she sobbed. She could barely see out of her eyes, but after a few minutes she saw that her daughter had dark brown eyes with dark brown hair plastered to her head; hair that was no doubt wavy. She looked up at her husband who was all smiles.
“If you watch her long enough she raises her eyebrow when she cries.”
“Stubborn and impertinent? How could we get so lucky?” She teased. She looked to her husband, who had again grown serious.
“Elizabeth, even if she had not survived, we would have. No matter what trials come our way, we earned our feathers and we will survive, just like those seven chicks we watched hatch. We would have made it through any storm. Even the death of our child could not break what we have built. I love you more than life itself. You must know that.”
“Yes, I know that. But I might need more convincing . . .”
He smiled and leaned in over their beautiful healthy daughter and placed several well deserved kisses on his wife’s lips.
The End
About the Author, Jeanna Ellsworth
Jeanna is a mother of three daughters, all of whom are well versed in all things Pride and Prejudice. She most definitely would say they are her best friends. She shares her best and worst days with them and they share theirs with her. She also proudly states she is the eighth of thirteen children. When she isn’t scrapbooking, quilting, or cooking, she is thoroughly ignoring her house for a few hours at a time in order to read yet another fan fiction novel. Somewhere between being a mom, a sister, a cook, and a best friend, she squeezes in three 12 hour shifts a week as a Registered Nurse in a Neurological ICU. She raises chickens, helps her daughter run a rabbitry, and gardens as much as she can. In all her still-under-forty years, she has never claimed to be as happy as she is now. Out of this mindset came a surge of creativity that simply had to be written down. Since she finished Mr. Darcy’s Promise, she has stated several times that she has gained something no one can take away from her; hope for her own Mr. Darcy. More than anything, she hopes to prepare her three best friends to look for their own Mr. Darcy and to settle for nothing less.
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Mr. Darcy's Promise Page 39