No Distance Too Far (34 page)

“Right.”

“Interesting timing in all this. I would have been coming home in mid-June anyway. They give students a two-week leave before the final preparations to ship out. I was afraid that if I came home, I would not be able to leave again.”

“And will you?”

Astrid shook her head slightly, barely moving it from side to side. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

“God will let you know.”

“I’m counting on that.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thank you for coming.”

Since there were no appointments in the book, Astrid ignored her mixed feelings by refilling the bottles of medications they kept in a glass-fronted upper cabinet. Larger bottles of dried herbs were kept on the dark shelves below. In between she checked on Elizabeth and answered the telephone. Two people called for appointments for the next day. Then Elizabeth’s stepmother called to ask how she was feeling, but Elizabeth did not want to talk with her right then, as the contractions were coming closer together now since she’d been moved to the lying-in room.

“She’s busy right now; may I give her a message and have her telephone you later?” Astrid promised Elizabeth would call back the next day or so, since the family was going to a concert at St. Olaf College that evening.

Checking on Elizabeth, she nodded her approval. Thorliff sat with his back to the headboard of the bed, legs spread so that Elizabeth could sit between them, using her husband as a back support. He murmured encouragement in her ear whenever the contractions rolled over her. Weak as she was to start with, she was already panting after each onslaught.

“What am I? About a finger width?” she asked after Astrid checked her progress.

“Almost.” Astrid took in a deep breath. “I’m going to rupture the membranes to hurry this along.” She looked to Elizabeth, who nodded.

After the fluids rushed out, she changed the towels to lay down dry ones and said to Elizabeth and Thorliff, “I’m hoping to preserve your strength here, but you know the contractions will hit hard now.”

“I know.”

Lord, please make this work. Strong and healthy mothers wear out
in labor, so help us here.
While a baby that small should deliver easily, nothing about the pregnancy had gone peacefully.

26

A
s the windows darkened, Astrid lit a kerosene lamp and set it in the corner behind a screen. Elizabeth lay in Thorliff’s arms, exhausted beyond thought, and still no baby. Motioning to her mother to come out in the hall, she leaned against the wall.

“We have to decide now. If we wait any longer, I don’t think Elizabeth will make it through the surgery.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“You don’t agree?”

“I’ve been pleading for God to lead us, but so far He is silent.”

Astrid rubbed her temples and up into her hair. “How about we ask Elizabeth when she wakes up?”

“Ja, if she is coherent enough to answer.” The two returned to the room just as Elizabeth woke again with a whimpering cry.

Astrid lifted the sheet to check on the baby, but no head was visible yet. But she could feel the head when she inserted her fingers. Could she bring it out with forceps? That would be better than surgery. She needn’t worry about injuring the baby like she would if it were alive. “Mor, would you please get the forceps?”

When the contraction had passed, Astrid took Elizabeth’s hand in hers. “Can you hear me?” At the nod she continued. “I can feel the baby’s head about half a finger up in the birth canal. I am thinking to use the forceps. That way we don’t have to do a cesarean. To do this, I will administer morphine enough to kill the pain but not knock you out. Then you can help when I tell you.” Elizabeth nodded.

Astrid glanced at Thorliff, who’d turned as white as the sheets he sat on. “Can you handle that?”

He swallowed—and nodded. “Maybe you better administer a shot of whiskey to this participant.”

“I can do that too. We have some here in the surgery cabinet.”

Ingeborg approached the bed, holding a pan of antiseptic with the forceps submerged. “I asked Thelma to boil plenty of water and be here to help if needed.”

As soon as they were set, Astrid checked Elizabeth one last time and shook her head. She’d not dilated any further. She gave Thorliff the shot of whiskey and administered the morphine to Elizabeth.

A knock at the door and Pastor Solberg stuck his head in. “I’m out here praying.”

“Thank you.” Astrid scrubbed her hands and laid a sterile sheet on the bed. “Elizabeth, can you hear me?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Good. When I say push, you push with all you have. If we can do this in two or three contractions, it will be over.” She carefully inserted the forceps. “Easy now. There’s a contraction coming. I want you to roll with it and push at the crest.” Elizabeth nodded, a frown melding her eyebrows, teeth clenched. “Relax as much as you can and breathe.” Astrid watched the tightening body, praying that the forceps were in place. “Push, Elizabeth, push.” At the same time she clenched the forceps and pulled. With a gush of blood and water, the dark little body slid out onto the sheet.

“Thank you, heavenly Father,” Ingeborg whispered, stroking Elizabeth’s hair.

Astrid cut the cord and wrapped the still body in a baby blanket, tears coursing down her face. She looked to Thorliff, who sat with his eyes closed, the tears leaking anyway. She laid the baby aside to massage Elizabeth’s belly. With no infant cry, no squirming red body, no thrill of new life, they went about the business of tending to the mother. Finally the placenta was delivered Tired beyond belief, they struggled on. Thorliff slid off the bed and nearly collapsed in the chair, still holding Elizabeth’s flaccid hand. He looked to his mother. “Is she all right?”

“As much as can be. We’ll give her some broth and enough pain medicine to keep her comfortable. Sleep now will be her best ally.”

Working together, Astrid and Ingeborg stripped the bed and put down new linens. They bathed Elizabeth, slid a clean gown over her head, and settled her back down. When Thelma brought in the broth, Ingeborg spoon-fed her daughter-in-law, crooning encouragement all the while.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Thelma said. Astrid could see her eyes were red.

“If there is any change . . .”

“I know. I will come running for you.”

Astrid nodded. “Mor, how about you take the second shift, and I’ll do the third. Thorliff, you sleep as much as you can.”

“I’ll be up and down, I know. But don’t worry about me.” He looked toward his wife. “Just her.” He stood and crossed the room to where the baby boy lay on the chest, wrapped in his blanket. “Should I take him out?” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard.

“No. I think it will be important for Elizabeth to see him when she wakes. If she wants to hold him, that will help her heal too.”

Ingeborg rubbed her son’s shoulder. “Something was not right with him from the very beginning.”

“He needs a name.”

“You and Elizabeth can name him in the morning.” She pulled the chair closer to the bed. Setting the bell on the stand beside it, she motioned Thelma to sit down. “I’ll bring you some coffee?”

“No thank you. I just had some.”

Grateful that Pastor Solberg had gone home, Astrid and Thor-liff filed upstairs, while Ingeborg took the room next door to Elizabeth’s.

With only the sounds of the house settling for the night, Astrid breathed in a deep breath and held it before exhaling. Had she done the right thing, the best thing? Now to protect Elizabeth from infection, from bleeding, but she was so worn out, she had no strength to heal with. “Lord, she needs your strength. You have promised strength and wisdom to those who ask. Your strength shows when we are the most weak. We are asking—I am pleading—please don’t let this be in vain. I know you said all things work together for good for those who love you, but I don’t understand how that can be. I do know now that I don’t need to understand but to wait on you in faith and trust.”

She listed the things that she knew, that God was and always would be in charge of things. She knew that God loved them all with a fierce love that fought off the wiles of the evil one. She knew that little baby was now back in the arms of his Father. In the stillness, she heard Thorliff get up and go downstairs again. So he couldn’t sleep either.

She dozed a bit but suddenly jerked awake, sitting straight up. What had she heard? Elizabeth? She rose and slipped her arms into the wrapper she kept on the bedpost. Padding down the stairs, she saw the light from under the door of the lying-in room. Her mother’s door was half open but dark. Easing open the door to where Elizabeth lay, Astrid peeked inside. Thelma sat in her chair, slowly rocking, her needle flashing on what was probably a dress for Inga. Elizabeth was sleeping peacefully, her face pale, not flushed with fever.

Thelma looked up at her and nodded toward the chest where they’d laid the baby.

Astrid peeked through the space between door and frame. The baby was gone. She looked back to Thelma.

“The kitchen,” Thelma mouthed.

Astrid nodded and made her way to the kitchen. She heard soft sobbing before she opened the door. Thorliff sat in the rocker in front of the window, his tears dripping down on the face of his dead son as he cuddled the little body close.

Astrid backed away and set her back against the walnut paneling. Using her full sleeve, she mopped her eyes and dug in her pocket for a handkerchief. Wiping her nose, she returned to the lying-in room to check Elizabeth’s vitals. Assured that all was as well as could be expected, she heaved a sigh.

“Why don’t you go on to bed, Thelma. I can’t sleep anyway, so I might as well sit here. Has she wakened at all?”

Thelma shook her head. “She whimpered a few times but not enough to wake all the way.”

“No excess bleeding?”

“No. I changed her a bit ago, but even that didn’t wake her. When I spoon broth into her mouth, she swallows.”

“Good. Thank you. Go get some rest. There are only two appointments scheduled for tomorrow, so barring emergencies, we should be pretty quiet.”

“There’s the party this weekend—Friday night or Saturday, whichever it is.”

“Oh, that’s right. Hard keeping track of things outside of here.” Astrid turned at a mumble from the bed. She watched Elizabeth frown and blink her eyes, but then she slid back into a sleep that appeared to be restful.

Astrid sat down in the chair when Thelma left the room and alternately spooned broth and rubbed Elizabeth’s flabby abdomen. She could feel the minor contractions that always followed a birth. So far everything seemed normal. Warring between wanting to sing praises and wanting to wait and see, Astrid brought the book of First John to mind, glad she had memorized the first three chapters. She paused as verse five curled into her mind.
This then is the message which
we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in
him is no darkness at all.

At first she repeated the verse in her mind but then remembered her mother always saying that sleeping or unconscious people could hear. So she began repeating it in a gentle voice that comforted her first and hopefully would also comfort Elizabeth. When her patient became restless, she spoke more firmly, returning to a softer voice when Elizabeth settled again. The restlessness appeared to coincide with the cramps. Some of Astrid’s patients in Chicago had told her about these pains as the body struggled to return to life before pregnancy. Some said they were really bad, while others said one must just get through it.

Astrid added a couple of drops of morphine to the broth—enough, she hoped, to take the edge off the pain. From First John she went to First Corinthians thirteen, all about love. Her big delight: Love is . . .

Thorliff returned sometime later and laid the baby back up on the chest. “I’ll be in the office. Call me when she wakes up.”

Astrid nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself. How she longed to comfort her big brother, but everything she thought of sounded inane. Except for the Bible verses that kept coming to her mind.

Elizabeth stirred and opened her eyes when the rooster crowed. “It is over?”

“Ja, all is well.”

Elizabeth turned to look out the window at the land coming alive after a night’s sleep. “No, all is not well.” She laid her hand on her belly. “Where’s the baby?”

“On the chest. Thorliff asked me to call him as soon as you woke up.”

“What is it?” Her voice came out in a whisper.

“A boy, like you thought.”

“I want to see him.”

“I know. That is why we kept him in here. Let me get Thorliff.”

“No. Bring the baby first.” She paused and heaved a sigh. “Please.”

“I’ll go call Thorliff,” Ingeborg said from the doorway. “You stay here.”

Astrid nodded. Right now, someone else taking charge was a big relief. She looked to Elizabeth, who stared at her, chin quivering, and a single tear slinking toward her ear. “Let me help you with some pillows first.”

“No. The baby.”

Astrid stood and crossed to the chest where the tiny body lay, lovingly wrapped in a baby blanket, most likely one of Inga’s. She picked up the still form and carried him to his mother, laying him in her waiting arms.