with their schoolwork. And Levi with the branding and shots, and I keep the books for the farm and business.” Another contraction came over her, and she quieted.
Levi came back a half hour later and then Sean checked on Sharon soon after that. He said that all was going well, and he seemed to be right. The spotting had stopped. She was still several hours away from delivering. I dozed for a while in the recliner and then after I awoke, Levi took a turn. Sharon had been back on the bed for a couple of hours and was able to doze between contractions.
At four a.m. she was ten centimeters dilated and had the urge to push. Sean came in right away.
“It’s your fourth baby, right?” he asked as he scrubbed down.
“Yes.” Sharon grimaced.
“Well, chances are you’re almost done.” He scooted the rolling stool to the end of the bed. “Go ahead and push with the next contraction.”
I didn’t count the baby as number 257 because I didn’t catch him—Sean did. And, again, I didn’t ask to take his photo because I didn’t want to offend Sharon and Levi. But I felt all the emotions of having delivered him as I stood by Sharon’s side and Sean held up the little boy.
“He’s perfect,” he cooed. His eyes glistened as he suctioned the newborn and then put him on Sharon’s chest as he showed Levi where to cut the cord.
I covered Sharon and the baby with a warm blanket. Sharon didn’t need any instruction to get the baby nursing as Sean finished up. I wondered if Marta would have called 911. It didn’t matter. I was thankful I hadn’t taken a chance.
Levi asked if he could use the phone in the room. His younger brother had a cell and could let the extended family, including his parents who were staying with his and Sharon’s older children, know about the new baby.
An hour and half later, before I left, Sharon said she’d prefer being at home but was going to enjoy every minute of the peace and quiet that she could. Levi said he would have preferred the bill of being home but would concentrate on the healthy baby. He bent down and kissed the little one, who was tucked into the crook of his mother’s arm.
“How does the hospital bill work for you?” I asked.
“Oh, it won’t be too bad. We pay into a co-op that will cover most of it—after we pay the first five thousand or so.”
I wanted to whistle. Five thousand dollars was a lot of money. But without the co-op the cost could ruin a family financially. No wonder the Amish preferred home births. Thankfully, Sharon hadn’t had to have a C-section, which would have been even more expensive. Before I left I took a mental photo of the image of Sharon, Levi, and their baby boy curled up on the bed together. I took in the love between them. Sharon’s trust. Levi’s contentment. The baby’s sweet lips and nearly translucent eyelids. They were almost asleep, which was exactly what I wanted to be doing—until I just about knocked Sean over in the hall.
He jumped back a step as I barreled out of the room, asking, “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
I came to a halt and apologized. “Nowhere, really, except maybe a few hours of sleep.” Marta hadn’t said anything about prenatal appointments. And besides, she’d probably lassoed another midwife in to help her by now. I was anxious to get back so she could honor her part of our bargain.
“Do they allow sleeping in Oregon?” he asked with a laugh. “Cuz they really don’t here.” He walked beside me as I headed down the hall.
“Just the minimum,” I responded. “Whatever that is.” It wasn’t a witty comeback, not at all, but I was trying.
“How about some breakfast?”
“Hmm. Food. Do they allow that here in Pennsylvania?”
He laughed. “Just the minimum.” Then he whispered. “And it’s not that good.”
The food turned out to be fine. Scrambled eggs and sausage. A croissant. And a cup of black coffee to get me back to Marta’s safe and sound.
“So, you’re an Amish midwife,” he said as he spread blackberry jam on a slice of whole wheat toast.
“No—well, tonight I was.” I rolled my eyes. “Or wasn’t.” I started to smile. “Actually, you were the midwife tonight.”
“Touché,” he said. “My mother would be so proud.”
“Oh?”
“She and my dad live in the backwoods of Vermont. That’s one of the