by Ginny Dye
********
Abby didn’t bother to knock at the door, but pushed her way in. Rose’s face filled with relief when she saw her, but Dr. Wild didn’t even notice her entry. Polly was stationed at Carrie’s side, her eyes locked on Dr. Wild as she waited for instructions. Pails of hot water had been brought up, and there was a mound of clean cloths next to the bed.
Carrie’s face was white and still as she lay beside her dead husband. Two hours into labor, and the baby had still not been born. “Has she been conscious at all?” Abby whispered, sickened by the sight of Robert’s slack body, but knowing that for now she had to focus on her daughter.
Rose shook her head. “She was with Robert when he died,” she whispered, “and then she went into labor almost immediately. The pain made her pass out quickly. She hasn’t woken up since.”
Abby swayed slightly before she set her lips. They must move Robert before Carrie woke up and found herself in bed with her husband’s corpse. She shot a quick look at Dr. Wild, relieved to find his eyes on her. “I want to have Moses come up and take Robert to another room.”
“That will be best,” Dr. Wild agreed. He held up his hand when he saw the rest of the questions in her eyes. “I don’t have anything else to tell you right now. Carrie is alive, but we’re going to have to get the baby out quickly.”
“You’re going to operate?” Abby asked.
“Yes,” Dr. Wild said. “I need the entire bed, and I need a sterile environment.” His eyes narrowed. “Quickly.” He turned away, but then whipped back around. “Only Moses and Mark can come in here. I don’t want Carrie’s father to see her like this.”
Abby could not have agreed more. She flew back down the stairs, returning moments later with Moses and Mark. The room remained silent as the two men picked up Robert carefully and carried him from the room, taking him to the bed next door.
*******
Thomas, barely able to breathe, grabbed Moses’ arm as soon as he stepped back out onto the porch. “What is going on up there?”
“We moved Robert’s body,” Moses said, knowing the feeling of his dead friend’s body in his arms would remain with him for the rest of his life. He took a deep breath. “They are getting ready to perform surgery on Carrie right now.”
Thomas stared at him blankly. “Surgery?”
Moses reported the little Dr. Wild had told him. “He is going to perform a Cesarean Section on Carrie. He has recently learned how to do the procedure.” He tried to infuse confidence in his voice, but he was quite sure he had failed. The sight of Carrie’s face had almost brought him to his knees.
“They’re going to cut Carrie’s baby out of her?” Thomas had read something recently in a medical journal left behind in an office he had visited. “Can it possibly live?” His voice grew harsher. “Will Carrie live?”
“I don’t know,” Moses answered honestly. Obviously, Thomas knew more than he did about the procedure Dr. Wild was about to execute. He gave him the only hope he could offer. “Dr. Wild seemed confident he could help.”
“And that’s all you can tell me?”
“I’m sorry, Thomas,” Moses said faintly.
Annie appeared beside him and took control as she grasped Thomas’ arm. “You come sit down right over here, Mr. Thomas. Standin’ up here ain’t gonna make nothin’ happen any sooner. Whatever is happenin’ up there is gonna happen for a while.”
Thomas said nothing but allowed her to settle him into a rocking chair.
“Now you drink some of this hot tea and eat one of these biscuits,” she commanded. “I already know you feel like you can’t eat nothin’, but Carrie is gonna need you when she wakes up. It won’t do at all for you to be weak and sick.” She plunked a loaded tray down on the table beside the chair. “You eat every bite of this or I’m gonna shove it down your throat myself,” she threatened as she blinked back tears.
Thomas stared at her wordlessly for a long moment before he reached for the tea. Annie watched him take several swallows before she turned and stepped back into the house, her face a mask of raw pain.
********
Abby watched as Dr. Wild unstrapped his black medical bag and began to lay out surgical instruments. She had a thousand questions swarming through her mind, but she didn’t want to disturb his concentration. Carrie’s breathing was becoming more labored, and other than occasional spasms, she had not moved.
“I know all of you are scared,” Dr. Wild said calmly.
Now that he had made the decision to perform surgery, his tension seemed to have disappeared. Abby took comfort from the look of steady confidence gleaming in his eyes.
Dr. Wild grabbed a sheet of paper and began to write rapidly. When he was finished, he thrust the paper at Polly. “Have someone ride to the clinic and bring me back these treatments.”
Polly scanned the list. “We got all this right here,” she revealed. “Miss Carrie said we had to be as ready here at home as we are at the clinic.”
“Wonderful!” Dr. Wild responded.
“I’ll be right back,” Polly announced. “And I’ll have more hot water brought up.”
Dr. Wild managed an almost natural smile and then turned to Rose. “This is going to be hard for you because the two of you are so close.”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Rose snapped, her face tense with worry as her eyes bored into his. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”
“As will I,” Abby added. “You just have to tell us what you need.”
Dr. Wild eyed them both for a moment and then nodded. “I’m going to explain what I’m doing as I do it,” he said conversationally. “It used to be the only way to deliver a baby from someone in Carrie’s condition was a craniotomy.”
“It sounds barbaric,” Abby replied, her eyes fastened on Carrie’s face.
“It is,” Dr. Wild agreed, “but it was often the only way to keep the mother and baby alive.” His hands moved smoothly as he made preparations. “Carrie was born this way. She was removed from her mother by forceps, but she was an on-time delivery, so she survived.”
“Her mother almost died,” Abby whispered.
“Yes. The procedure can often cause internal tearing. From what Thomas told me, Carrie’s mother almost bled to death from the hemorrhage. They were lucky to save her.”
Abby understood now why the memories of Carrie’s birth had so traumatized her husband. “And now? With Carrie’s baby coming so early?”
Dr. Wild hesitated. “A craniotomy would certainly kill the child. With a baby this young, it would require removal of the baby from the vagina a little at a time.” He didn’t elaborate, but the grimness in his eyes told the rest of the story.
Abby absorbed that, her insides threatening to rebel as she envisioned Carrie’s baby being torn apart in the womb piece by piece. She couldn’t stop the shudder that wracked her body. “And you’re not going to do that?” Her question came out in a squeak.
“No. I’m going to perform a Cesarean section. The procedure has progressed greatly in the last decade,” Dr. Wild said. “Once I make the incision, I will be able to remove Carrie’s baby easily. It used to be quite a dangerous operation, but many women survive it now.”
Abby sucked in her breath, knowing by his statement that there were a number of women who did not. She refused to allow herself to focus on that possibility.
“It’s really becoming much more common now,” Dr. Wild continued. “The first recorded successful cesarean was actually done in South Africa by a woman masquerading as a man serving as a physician to the British Army.”
Abby tucked that morsel of knowledge into her mind so she could tell Carrie about it when she was awake again. You are going to be fine, Carrie! Her mind screamed it, even though she remained silent.
Dr. Wild looked up when Annie pushed into the room with fresh pots of hot water. Polly followed close behind her with a basket full of carefully labeled bottles. “Thank you,” he said. He motioned to Polly. “Please put those righ
t over there. We will use them to ensure there is no infection when I have finished sewing her up.” He went back to explaining what he was doing, knowing the sound of his voice was helping everyone. “I have anesthesia with me. Carrie will not feel a thing.” He pulled out a bottle of chloroform, wet a cloth, and handed it to Polly. “You know what to do with this?”
Polly nodded. “I help Miss Carrie all the time.”
“Good. She is unconscious now, but we don’t want her to wake up during the operation.”
Abby pushed the image of that possibility from her mind as Dr. Wild stepped over to one of the buckets of hot water and began to carefully wash his hands and arms. He pulled out a loose fitting gown from his bag and pulled it over his clothes. She knew he was ensuring the operation would be as sterile as possible. Carrie had explained to her once that it had been only recently that physicians had come to understand the importance of a sterile environment for surgery. It relieved her to know Dr. Wild was making sure there was as little chance for infection as possible.
Dr. Wild turned to Abby. “When I have delivered the baby, I am going to pass her off to you and Rose. If she is alive, I want the two of you to clean her up and cut the umbilical cord. Can you do that?”
“I can,” Rose assured him. “I helped my mama many times when Carrie or her mother weren’t around for a birth down in the quarters.”
“Good.” Dr. Wild stepped closer to the bed, his face and eyes intense with concentration. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Nineteen
A thick silence fell on the room as Dr. Wild picked up his scalpel. He lowered the covers, pulled away the gown Rose had put on Carrie after her collapse, and set his lips. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, obviously praying, and then opened them again. “It’s time for this baby to be born,” he murmured. He looked up long enough to meet Abby’s eyes, an expression of sorrow telling her the truth.
There was little chance it would be a live birth. Whatever had happened in Carrie’s womb had almost certainly killed her baby. Abby held her breath as she kept her gaze locked on Carrie’s face. She longed to hold her daughter close in her arms, but all she could do was watch, and pray that Dr. Wild could save her life. Was it really only hours earlier that Carrie had been laughing and chatting on the way home on the train? How could life change so drastically in such a short period of time? Abby knew the answer of course—all their lives had been shattered time after time in the last six years.
She forced herself to push away the reality of Robert’s death, and just how Carrie was going to respond when she gained consciousness. Right now all she could do was pray she would live. Somewhere in the corner of her mind, she was also aware that if Robert’s murder had not brought Dr. Wild to the plantation, Carrie would most certainly be hovering at death’s door right now, if not already dead. There was no one here at the plantation that could have handled a birth this complicated. The knowledge floated through her mind, but everything was still too raw to form gratitude for any of the nightmare unfolding before them.
It seemed like only seconds before Dr. Wild pulled a still, tiny form from Carrie, and thrust it at Rose. “Take care of her daughter,” he said tightly before he turned back to his work.
Abby’s heart sank. In spite of the message he had communicated before the surgery began, she had held on to hope that the baby would somehow survive. From the sound of his voice, she already knew what he hadn’t said. She watched as Rose’s face crumpled with renewed grief, and then she stepped forward to take the baby. “I would like to hold my granddaughter,” she said softly, forcing her voice to remain composed. She stared down at the fully-formed little face with its rosebud lips, dark lashes, and a surprising amount of black hair. “Oh, little one,” Abby whispered, her heart breaking anew.
Rose laid a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “Carrie was going to name her Abigail Bridget,” she said quietly. “Abigail, for both her mothers.” Her voice caught. “And Bridget, which is a Celtic Irish name that means power and strength, as a tribute to Biddy, whose real name is Bridget. They were going to call her Bridget.”
Abby let her tears fall on the baby, washing her with a grandmother’s love. “Abigail Bridget,” she murmured. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I wish…” Her voice choked and trailed away as she thought of all the hopes and dreams they had all carried for this fragile bundle in her arms. “You are loved,” she said tenderly as she accepted the soft blanket Rose handed to her. She wrapped it around the baby carefully and held her against her chest. She would clean her later, but if there was any part of the child that could feel her love, she wanted her to know how cherished she was.
Rose turned to help Polly hand items to Dr. Wild as he barked out orders.
Abby watched, her heart both numb and shattered, as Dr. Wild cleaned out the cavity left behind by the baby’s birth, and then carefully sutured the incision. When he had sewn Carrie closed, he asked for the natural remedies that would sterilize the area to make sure there was no infection. When he was satisfied every part of the wound was clean and sterilized, he covered the incision with bandaging and secured it.
Abby continued to rock quietly while he finished the operation, softly stroking Bridget’s fine hair and feathery soft skin. She wondered if the baby had Robert’s blue eyes, or Carrie’s green ones. Just that simple question made the silent tears turn into choking sobs. There was so much that none of them would ever know about the little girl that lay in her arms. The realization made her heart ache even more for Carrie. When she woke up, her entire world was going to have splintered into irreparable fragments. It was going to take all of the people who loved her to help her put it back together again.
Dr. Wild took a deep breath and stepped back from the bed. “The procedure went well,” he said, his face lined with grief as he looked at the child in Abby’s arms. “I wish we could have saved her baby, but she was already gone. It was probably…”
“Stop,” Abby said firmly. “I don’t want any of us to know, especially not Carrie, what might have killed Bridget.” She knew every one of them would always wonder if Bridget would have lived if Carrie had not ridden home to be with Robert, but no one needed confirmation. “The reason is not important. All we can do now is help Carrie recover from losing both Robert and her daughter.”
Dr. Wild nodded, his eyes filled with something like relief. “Robert was not alone when he died,” he murmured. “It was the greatest gift Carrie could have given him at the end.”
“I’m glad,” Abby replied, surprised that she felt so calm. No one could change what had already happened. Somehow they would all deal with the grief and move forward. She had such vivid memories of the day her husband had died and the months of black grief that had almost destroyed her. She would help her daughter navigate the darkness. That was all that mattered now. “How long will Carrie be asleep?”
Dr. Wild frowned. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “The chloroform will keep her asleep for at least three hours, but when she wakes up is anyone’s guess. She has undergone a tremendous shock, and now her body is going to have to fight off any possible infection.”
Abby tried not to finish the rest of what he didn’t say. I hope she sleeps a long time because the world is going to be a terrible place when she wakes up. “But she will wake up?” she pressed. It was the only thing Thomas was going to want to know.
“I believe she will, but only time will tell for certain. Carrie is strong and healthy. I don’t believe there will be any infection from the surgery. She has experienced a tremendous shock, though,” he said cautiously.
“Carrie will wake up,” Rose snapped. “She just needs time.”
Abby gazed at Rose’s face, seeing the complete devastation. “Of course she will,” she said soothingly. She was sure Rose had not slept a wink for the last two days. As she glanced at the window, the orange glow told her the sun was setting. “Would you like to hold Bridget?” she offered softly.
Rose stiffened and stepped back. “
I can’t,” she breathed, tears forming as she gazed at the still body. “I just can’t…”
Then she turned and fled.
********
It was completely dark when Rose heard snapping branches on the path to the river. She had not moved since she had run all the way to the rock she and Carrie had welcomed each New Year since they had been children. Her tears had dried, but her heart still felt destroyed. The peace she had come in search of was nowhere to be found. She knew the identity of the approaching person long before he stepped out onto the river bank and held open his arms. Rose flew into them, her tears starting anew.
Moses let her cry. The rigidity of his body said he was fighting his own emotions. When she finally quieted, Moses led her back to the rock she had been sitting on for the last two hours.
“Carrie is still asleep,” Moses said somberly.
Rose had expected that—it had been the only reason she had been willing to leave—but it released something in her to have it confirmed that Carrie was still alive. “I’m sorry I ran away.”
“Don’t be,” Moses replied. “You needed to take some time by yourself.” He lifted her chin as he peered into her eyes. “Did it help?”
“No,” Rose answered. “I don’t think this could hurt anymore if it were you and Hope who had both died in the same day. Even though Carrie hasn’t woken up yet, I am already feeling what she will feel.” She leaned back in her husband’s arms. “I’m almost afraid for her to wake up,” she admitted. “I have no idea what to say to her.” Tears formed in her eyes again. “How can words ever mean anything?”
“They will mean something,” Moses promised, “but mostly she is just going to need you to be with her.” His words were full of certainty.