Be Fruitful and Multiply
An owl hooting nearby woke John up. He reached his arm out to touch his wife, but when he found a cold bed, he remembered that Marilla and Anne had travelled to Kingsport to help Mary and her husband George with the new baby. John hoped they would have a nice time. Marilla, naturally, was excited to witness the birth of her first grandchild.
Try as he might, John could not get back to sleep. He lay in bed thinking about the chores he had planned for that day. He planned to get Jack to help him. It would be pruning time soon, the shears always needed oiling after the cold dry winter.
John smiled as he thought about his father's investment in the strawberry apple trees all those years ago. They had been an extravagance, but one that had paid off many times since. John vaguely recalled his mother's reaction when his father had spent so much money on the seedlings, she had not been impressed. Much like Jack's mother when he brought home the magic beans. His father had been wise though, the apple trees still produced delicious apples after all this time.
Sleep still eluded him. He settled in for a muse. He missed his wife when she was not around. Not only was the bed cold, but he missed the sound of her breathing and curling up are und her warm body. There was no doubt in his mind that he was a happy man. Sure, Marilla could be impetuous, taking in Anne had been rash perhaps. But he loved her for it. She had a big heart, his gorgeous wife. He could not reproach her for that. She was a wonderful mother, the girls had grown up into competent young women, Jack was doing well and now she was relishing a new challenge with Anne. Nothing she could do would ever be as much work as Jamie had been, he imagined.
He thought about how lucky he was. Three, no four, wonderful children, he always had a pang when he minded Jamie, and now the very sweet Anne. He felt she was really relaxing around them now. It was true he had been sad to think that Jamie might be his only son, but now he had Jack to help him out on the farm, which was indeed a blessing. He wasn't as young as he used to be, he was about to be a grandfather after all. It made him feel old.
"Ooh. Ohhh. Bfff bfff."
"Just breathe darling. Breathe through the pain. You're doing wonderfully."
"ArrrfgGHH! ArrgghhhhHHHH!"
"That's the way. Scream all you like."
Had she been like this? Marilla pondered. She had travelled over to see Mary in Kingsport when the baby was due. There was something rather magical about becoming a grandmother. Worry of course, that something might go wrong; but also wonder watching the whole thing unfold, and at seeing your own baby become a mother.
Marilla had brought Anne with her, thinking it would be a nice interlude and that she would love to meet the new baby. Mary greeted Anne hesitatingly. She had assumed Marilla would leave Anne back at Green Gables and come to spend some time with her daughter. Now she had to share her mother's attention with this new girl. Mary knew it was unchristian, but she was jealous.
After what seemed an eternity, and for the first time Marilla watched as a new life entered the world, all slithery and messy. If you stopped to think about it, it really was a wonder. She had never witnessed it, had only been the one pushing up the other end, but to see the head, with wet, black, downy hair emerge from between Mary's thighs was a miraculous sight.
Afterwards, as the nurse delivered the afterbirth and tidied Mary up, Marilla got to hold little Constance Grace, named after Marilla's mother, in her arms all wrapped in a blanket. The tiny slip of humanity reminded her of all her babies, born and not born. When Mary was ready she handed Constance over and watched as she rooted for the nipple for the first time. Mother and babe contentedly bonding, George standing by proudly.
On hearing the screams Anne was transported back to Mrs Hammond's laboring. Anne had been expected to help deliver the babies. Mrs Hammond labored noisily, screaming out all her frustrations at Anne and Mr Hammond, but Anne was not allowed any peace. She had to stay with Mrs Hammond for over twenty hours, as she ranted and railed at God and the universe. Eventually Anne caught the baby and then heard Mrs Hammond going again, just when they thought it was all over. Twins. And she did it all again - twice.
After yet another heart-rending scream Anne fled. George didn't notice her leave and wondered briefly where she had got to when he turned around, but he was too intent on the goings on behind the door to take much notice.
With the cessation of screams a loud cry rang out informing George that it was all over, the door opened to admit him into the female sanctum. "Where's Anne?" asked Marilla as she handed the baby over.
"I'm not sure, I think she disappeared a while ago. I haven't seen her since."
Marilla strode out, intent on finding her. She wasn't concerned, but she thought Anne would like to meet the baby. She was worried fifteen minutes later however as Anne did not reply to her calls and was nowhere to be found. Eventually, having looked everywhere Marilla curled up beside the privy.
"Anne. Anne. Anne!"
There was no response. Marilla knelt down to touch her on the shoulder, Anne flinched.
"Anne." More gently this time. "What's wrong Anne?"
Still no response. Marilla was torn, she desperately wanted to be back in the birthing room with the new baby and her mother, but she couldn't leave Anne here, in an obvious state of distress. Anne had curled into a little ball as if she wanted to make herself invisible and she was rocking back and forth, moaning.
Marilla sat down. If the birthing room was an impossibility, she at least needed to get Anne out of the noisome privy. What was she to do? She didn't want to traumatize the child further, but they did have to move. Marilla stood up and held out her hand, "Anne come with me, you don't have to see the baby if you don't want to. Come now."
For her part Anne heard Marilla's firm voice dimly as though she was underwater, so deep into her distress was she. Eventually she did hear the commanding tone of Marilla's voice and she obediently stood up and walked out the door. They walked back into the house and Marilla led Anne to their bedroom. Pulling back the covers she pressed Anne to sit and knelt down to unlace her boots. Anne lay down and Marilla placed the blankets over her. "I will return shortly Anne" she promised and made her way back to Mary.
"Where have you been Mama?"
"The privy."
Marilla spent some more time with Mary, marveling at the small, perfectly formed baby. She had a good set of lungs on her, and they put her to her mother's breast and heaved a collective sigh of relief as the noise stopped when the baby latched. Mary looked exhausted. "I'll leave you to it for a while," Marilla announced, and she walked out if the room somewhat exhausted herself, but knowing she had somewhere else to be.
She found Anne precisely where she had left her. Curled up in the bed, only now the blankets were over her head. Marilla lay down on the bed beside her and started just gently talking to her. She didn't know precisely what was wrong, but it was apparent the child was very, very frightened. She just started by telling Anne how safe she was, how Marilla would never let her be hurt again. She reached out one hand to where she thought Anne's shoulder might be located under the covers. Anne did not flinch this time. Marilla took off her shoes and climbed under the covers, gathering Anne into her arms she hugged the thin body to her. Anne felt safe enough to sob gently into her chest. Marilla did not speak, she just rubbed Anne's back comfortingly. Eventually Anne fell asleep in her arms.
Marilla's arms were going to sleep, so she shifted the slumbering Anne over to the other side of the bed. She was worried about her, but felt she needed to take it slow. If Anne didn't want to see the baby in the morning, Marilla wouldn't force her. She had planned to stay a week or so with Mary, but that looked unlikely at this stage, something Mary would not be happy about, Marilla had no doubt.
Mary's reaction was precisely as expected. "You're going home already Mama? Just because Anne's afraid of my baby? I think that's very unfair. What about me, don't you love me anymore? You love this red headed nobody more than me!"
"Now, now, Mary, that's not true at all. Anne is not coping here. I'll just take her home and I'll be back to care for you in a week or so."
"Or so? Or so! If you leave, don't bother coming back at all. It's apparent where your loyalties lie." Mary exclaimed dramatically.
Marilla looked at her distraught daughter, in some distress herself. There really was no easy way out of this. The only solution that she could see was to either put Anne on the train by herself or ask John to come and fetch her home to Avonlea. At least if John came he could meet the baby. On the other hand, that would delay her departure as they waited for a letter to get through.
Suddenly she had an epiphany, Alice Bartram wasn't far away, perhaps Anne could go and stay there?
"Thank you, Alice. I just had to get Anne out of here."
"Why what's up? What happened?"
"She does not like babies, or watching them be born, it would appear. I found her in quite a state out in the privy."
"Hiding?"
"Yes."
"Goodness. And then what?"
"Well, after l got her into a bed she hid under the covers and cried herself to sleep."
"Has she seen the baby? Goodness tell me about the baby?" Alice exclaimed.
"A girl, Constance Grace. She's beautiful. But I don't think Anne can stay there. Understandably Mary is upset with me." Explained Marilla.
"I'm sure. But you had to bring Anne to a safe place."
"Can she stay here for a few days?"
"Naturally. I might introduce her to Martha."
Alice sent word to Martha to come and visit, she needed her help. Anne seemed like a sweet little thing, but she felt Martha might identify with her as no one else could.
Martha and her daughter Ann duly arrived at the Bartram house and were admitted. Alice drew them into the parlour to describe the situation finishing with "so, if you could take Anne for a walk, Martha, I would appreciate it. I'll look after Ann, we can have a look at some picture books."
Alice ran upstairs to fetch Anne and brought her down to introduce her.
Strolling along the street, Martha glanced down at Anne's startling red hair, it really was magnificent, though she gathered the child was not fond of it, if her hairstyle was anything to go by. "Mrs Bartram tells me you do not like babies."
"It's not babies as such Mrs er"
"You may call me Martha."
"Martha. It's just…" Anne trailed off, it was hard to put into words.
"Have you been present at other births, Anne?"
Anne nodded.
"Did you know I was a home girl too, Anne?"
Anne shot her a look of incredulity.
"Yes, I was an orphan, my parents died when I was little. I spent some years at the Hopetown Asylum, and with a family, and then I was lucky enough to be sent to Mrs Bartram. Come, here's a nice café, let's have cake."
"You were at Hopeless?" Anne said after they had sat down. The café was cosy, but Anne was oblivious to their surrounds, so interested in the woman in front of her was she.
"Ha ha, they still call it Hopeless do they? Yes, I was stuck there for a few years. What a ghastly place."
Anne nodded.
"How long were you there, Anne?"
"Not long, I lived with a couple of families and when they no longer wanted me, I moved to Hopeless for a bit, then to the Blewetts. Mrs Blythe rescued me from there."
"Where did you see babies being born?"
"At the Hammonds. I lived with them from six to ten. She had three sets of twins."
"Three! Oh, my goodness, and you delivered them all?"
Anne nodded.
"You were just a baby yourself."
"Yes."
"That's the worst thing about being an orphan, being deprived of a childhood. Ah, here's some cake."
A waitress set down a couple of plates of chocolate cake with whipped cream and a cup of tea for them both.
Martha watched Anne eat the cake, as she sipped her tea. "So, listening to Mrs Blythe's daughter laboring took you back there, I suppose?"
"Yes, I could just hear Mrs Hammond cursing at me and the world, there was no joy in it. And I knew, after the first time, just what it represented, more work for me."
"That wouldn't be the case this time, Mrs Blythe doesn't want you to look after this baby."
"No, I suppose not. But I couldn't bear to be around them, all the same. It makes me sad."
"Sad? How so?"
"Maybe I won't want to ever want have children."
"I'm sure, once you're old enough, Anne, it will be different.
Later that day Martha relayed Anne's concerns to Marilla. "When she was just a baby herself, she was forced to deliver Mrs Hammond's babies, all six of them. I believe it was a frightening time for her, and of course she was just a child herself. Now she is worried she won't want to ever have children."
"Mary couldn't help herself."
"Of course not, nor should she. But Anne desperately did not want to be back near a labouring woman."
"Perhaps I should leave her at home next month, when it is Eliza's turn." Marilla suggested.
"I think that would be wise." Martha agreed.
Marilla talked it over first with Alice and then Anne. "I won't force you into this situation again, Anne. I'm so sorry I did this to you."
"It's not your fault Marilla. I didn't know myself until I heard Mary. I just had to get away, I couldn't bear it. And now ..." tears came to her eyes.
"Now?"
"Now I'm afraid I'll hate my own babies when the time comes."
"I'm pretty sure that won't be the case, darling. It will be dissimilar, you'll be an adult and I'll be there to help you. I know only too well how important it is to have help with children. You have me now Anne. I won't be leaving you alone. It will be so different, I can promise you. Don't think those early babies will have ruined the experience for you. I know you have plenty of love."
"Do you really think so?"
"Yes, I'm absolutely sure of it, darling. You won't be having babies for many years yet and when you do you will be ready for them and you will be smitten."
Chicken Whisper, you are correct. This Anne does know what sex is, even if ordinarily children back then did not. She has been exposed to it before her time. She does not know that it can be a beautiful thing, she only sees the devastating aftermath. She has not experienced it herself. Mr Hammond died before he could molest her, thankfully.