Today's Reading
"You'll do no such thing," Nora promised as she tried to massage some courage into her. She glanced at Mrs. Franklin, who hadn't responded to her niece's cry.
"What?" Nora asked. Something else was wrong.
"One arm is pinned up by the head. I've seen breeches like that where the child was palsied all their life."
Nora nodded. Nerve damage at the neck and shoulder could be crippling. "Let me look."
The vaginal wall quivered. There wasn't a centimeter left, no give for the bulging weight of the baby. "I need to cut." Nora spoke softly, only for Mrs. Franklin's ears. "Can you get the surgical scissors from my bag?"
Nora didn't hold with cutting, though many doctors favored the procedure—which they called episiotomy.
Mrs. Franklin answered only with a grim frown. "You need to hurry." She knew, better than Nora, that they'd given ample time. Extra delay was dangerous.
"I assume these are the ones you want?" Mrs. Franklin passed Nora the blunt-edged scissors. A quick nod—they were the right ones for this, though not specifically what she'd requested. This midwife had good instincts.
Nora exhaled. She liked to have a little more time to select her spot, but this would have to do.
She closed the blades and Betsy jerked, letting out a piercing scream. "Sorry," Nora whispered through grinding teeth. Blood ran from the wound as Nora inserted her hand, working her fingers carefully between the baby's sternum and Betsy's pelvis, the contractions crushing her hand painfully. She waited as the pain mounted, her fingertips numbed from the pressure. She could just brush the baby's chin, but not yet reach his mouth.
"I need gentle pressure from outside. Extremely gentle," Nora warned as Mrs. Franklin applied her hands to Betsy's swollen abdomen. The extra push worked, and the head slid toward Nora's fingers. She hooked her pointer finger into the baby's mouth, blinking when the tiny tongue flickered against her.
"He's moving!" She sighed, relief sweeping from the top of her head and rolling over her shoulders. At least there was that. But he wasn't having a better time than the rest of them. There was no reaching the arm. She had no room at all. How a man with larger fingers ever navigated this—
Giving up, she carefully withdrew and reached her bloodied hand into her bag for the forceps.
Mrs. Franklin's eyes went wide from her position above Betsy.
"These are short forceps," Nora explained. "Some doctors treat them only as leverage to pull harder, but we're smarter than that. They can reach where we can't. Every tool is a good tool in the right hands."
"No!" Betsy screamed at the sight of the large metal clamps. "I can't."
"It won't increase your pain," Nora vowed. "It will help it end sooner."
Betsy didn't seem to hear, protesting even louder. Nora wished momentarily for the vaporizer, but there was no time to ready it, let alone administer a dose of ether.
"Stand there."
Mrs. Franklin repositioned herself as Nora slipped one forcep into the inferior opening near Betsy's tailbone and eased it into position on the right side of the head. "Hold this one in place here," she explained over Betsy's hysterical screams. "Then we do the same on the left side. I extend the handles beyond the head, so the curved bits help push instead of pulling on the neck."
Necks were so fragile.
"Try and keep her still."
Murmuring incomprehensibly, Mrs. Franklin leaned in and grabbed her niece's knees, holding her fast while Nora clamped the forceps together and rested the tiny body on top of them to support his weight before she guided the head downward. Horace often warned her of the unique times you needed to ignore a patient in order to save them, but today, Nora couldn't manage it. "We're almost there, Betsy. Try to hold on to something."
She turned back Mrs. Franklin. Flushed, sweating, she also looked at the point of breaking. "As soon as the chin appears—" She grunted as the nape of the neck and the mouth began to emerge. "You stand and draw the child up and out, toward the ceiling, decreasing the circumference for the mother."
Almost as soon as she spoke, it happened.The head escaped, the rubbery cord dropping nearly to the floor as Betsy gave a shuddering cry.
Nora dropped the forceps and collected the baby from Mrs. Franklin's trembling hands. The midwife rushed to clutch Betsy's shoulders. "Well done, love. Well done. We've got him out."
This excerpt is from the paperback edition.
Monday we begin the book South of Somewhere by T.I. Lowe.
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