It was now Katrina's ninth and final month of her pregnancy. Her due date was just around the corner, at the end of the week. She and Ichabod had finished painting the nursery, bought all of the supplies, and called in the midwife to stay. All they had to do was prepare Katrina for the birthing process. The midwife, Louise Bennett, came in and talked to Katrina about what was to happen. Ichabod was abruptly shut out of the room because birth talk was strictly for women. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what would happen anyway; he decided that he already learned enough about the female anatomy from books and he didn't want to find out any more so he headed downstairs.
It was 6:00, a stormy Saturday evening; Ichabod and Katrina were sitting by the fireplace, glad that they were inside on the dreadful day. Katrina was reading from her fairy tale book when she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She grimaced as she leaned forward and held her stomach with both hands; Ichabod looked up from what he was reading and silently gasped as he saw his wife's face contort.
"Katrina? Are you alright?" Ichabod asked worriedly.
"Oh!" Katrina exclaimed.
Ichabod's heart almost stopped. He jumped up from his armchair and dropped his book, only faintly hearing the clatter it made as it fell to the floor. Almost in a single leap he was crouching next to the sofa, looking into Katrina's face.
"What is it? Katrina, what's wrong?" He asked, reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder.
She was trembling, her eyes shut tight. Scarcely breathing, Ichabod waited for Katrina to answer. She opened her eyes after a long moment, and turned slowly to meet his worried gaze.
"That hurt." She said breathlessly, sounding almost surprised. "That really hurt."
"Is it… I mean… Is it really… that time?" Ichabod asked.
Katrina nodded. "I… I think so…"
Ichabod's eyes widened; he remembered they were fully prepared for this.
"Alright, don't panic; everything's going to be fine." He said in a rather wild tone, jumping up. "You stay here, I'll get—"
"Sir?" Young Masbeth asked as he entered the parlor.
Ichabod looked and sighed in relief as he went over to the boy.
"Masbeth, I need you to help Katrina and go fetch Louise at once while I go to town and get Dr. Graham." He ordered.
"Yes, sir." Masbeth said before Ichabod rushed towards the front door. "But, wait! Sir, what about the—?"
Before Masbeth could finish his sentence however, Ichabod ran out the door and down the road into town towards Dr. Graham's office. The misty rain was making everything slick and muddy as well as difficult to navigate through; Ichabod was probably getting mud all over his boots, coat, and trousers, but at the moment he couldn't care less. Ignoring the rain, slippery mud, and occasional lightning strikes around him, he finally made it to Dr. Graham's office. He frantically pounded his fist on the door for a few seconds before the doctor finally answered.
"Constable Crane? What on Earth are you doing out here in the middle of this awful storm?" He asked. "You're soaked to the bone, lad!"
"Never mind that." Ichabod gasped for breath as he started to shiver in the rain. "Dr. Graham, I-I need you to come home with me right this minute."
"What's the matter, my boy?"
"It's my wife, Katrina. I believe she's about to have our baby, now. So it's ever so urgent that you come back to my house with me at once."
"Oh! Of course, Constable… Wait, where's your carriage?"
"I didn't bring one. I… ran all the way here."
"Oh… Well, that certainly explains a lot. Would you like to ride with me in my carriage on the way there?"
Ichabod was reluctant at first, but he remembered Katrina. So he nodded his head 'yes' before the doctor grabbed his bag of equipment and led the Constable out to the back where his carriage was. A man who looked to be in his mid-thirties was preparing two horses before the doctor and Ichabod approached him.
"Timothy, this is Constable Ichabod Crane. I need you to take us to his house as soon as possible. Can you do that?" Dr. Graham told his carriage driver.
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." Timothy said before climbing onto the driver's seat on top of the carriage. "Hop in."
Ichabod and Dr. Graham quickly climbed in before the carriage drove off back to Ichabod's house. Back at the house, Katrina was lying in bed with beads of sweat running down her face and neck and a few tears streaming down her cheeks. Louise was standing at her side and young Masbeth standing at the foot of the bed when Dr. Graham and Ichabod entered the room.
"Ichabod…?" Katrina asked in a shaky voice.
"Is Katrina alright?" Ichabod asked Louise.
"Do not worry, Constable." Louise replied. "Your wife is just fine."
"Good. Thank you, Louise." Ichabod sighed. "Now I understand you have done this many times before, but I—"
"It's alright, Constable. I don't mind; if you and your wife trust Dr. Graham, then so do I." Louise said. "Now I'm afraid you and your servant will have to leave so you can give Katrina some more space."
"Of course. Come, young Masbeth." Ichabod said.
"Yes, sir." Masbeth said before he and Ichabod exited the room.
"I certainly hope you know what to do." The Constable said.
"Of course, sir. Just leave it to us. Everything will be fine, you'll see." Dr. Graham said before Ichabod nodded and looked back at Katrina.
"I love you Katrina." He whispered.
"I love you, too." She whispered before her husband quietly closed the door.
Downstairs, Ichabod was sitting on the floor in front of the blazing fireplace in an attempt to dry himself off and keep warm at the same time and Masbeth was casually sitting on the sofa rubbing his arms with his hands. As minutes bled into hours, the two of them sat in the parlor in almost dead silence, minus the crackling of the fire, for what seemed like an eternity. After an hour of staring at the dying fire, Ichabod began to worry. He soon began to pace the floor as if in a fear-induced trance, constantly thinking of what Katrina is going through right now and what could possibly go wrong; Masbeth watching his master nervously pace all the while.
"Sir?" Masbeth asked. "Forgive me for saying this, but would you mind giving the pacing a rest? At this rate, you might wear a hole into the floor if you keep doing that. No offense or anything, but you're making me rather dizzy."
"Well pardon me if I am concerned for my wife's health… as well as my child's wellbeing." Ichabod snapped before fading back into his previous mindset.
"Sorry…" Masbeth said.
'What if Katrina doesn't make it? What if the baby doesn't survive? What if something goes horribly wrong? What if Dr. Graham or Louise cannot do anything?' He rambled in his head.
By now, Ichabod ran his hands through his hair and his eyes grew wide with terror as he continued to pace, only much more frantically this time. Young Masbeth stood from the sofa and put a gentle hand on the Constable's shoulder. Ichabod finally stopped pacing the floor and looked at the boy as a few tears started to leak from his eyes.
"Sir, calm down." Masbeth said.
"Calm down? Calm down?! How can I possibly calm down at a time like this, young Masbeth?!" Ichabod screamed, more tears streaming down his cheeks. "Right now, Katrina is probably experiencing the worst pain of her life! What if something goes wrong? Maybe I should go back upstairs, just to—"
"No! You know we're not allowed up there, sir. You trust Dr. Graham, don't you? And Miss Louise?" Masbeth asked.
"Well, I… Yes. Yes, of course I trust them. But you know how unpredictable this sort of thing can be. Perhaps I should just—"
"—Let them do their jobs. Both Louise and the doctor have done this sort of thing before, haven't they?"
"Well… yes. Many times, I'm sure."
"Then stop overreacting. They know what they're doing, don't they? So please; do not overexcite yourself, sir."
Ichabod was about to open his mouth to argue before pondering about what the boy just said; maybe he wasn't worried about something going wrong. Maybe he was just worried about actually becoming a father. He had no idea how to raise a child and he still wasn't sure if he was cut out for the job; but then he remembered how excited he was when Katrina told him. He realized that he truly wanted to have a family of his own. Ichabod finally calmed down and went to sit in his armchair before letting out a deep sigh.
"You're right, young Masbeth. I'm sorry. Maybe I'm overreacting about this whole thing." He said in defeat.
Masbeth nodded his head and smiled. Ichabod was just about to shut his eyes for a quick nap when he suddenly heard a bloodcurdling female scream come from upstairs followed by a tiny yet loud cry. He and Masbeth jolted to their feet as the wailing continued on; it sounded high-pitched and loud. Ichabod nearly fainted in shock when he put two and two together; it dawned on him that the baby had arrived. He looked at young Masbeth with wide eyes; he was now officially a father.
With an excited smile, he ran out of the parlor and practically bounded up the stairs. He was halfway up when he was suddenly greeted by Dr. Graham and Louise going halfway down; blood stained their hands and clothes, Ichabod's eyes widened in terror at the sight.
"Well…?" The Constable asked, glancing up at the stairs.
"Don't worry, Constable." Dr. Graham said reassuringly. "Katrina has come through swimmingly and she's going to be fine."
Ichabod let out a sigh of relief before asking, "And… the baby?"
"… Is a boy." The doctor answered.
Ichabod's eyes widened again; he almost couldn't believe what he just heard.
"I beg your pardon?" He asked.
"The baby is a perfect, healthy little boy." Louise said with a smile.
"I… have a son?" Ichabod was speechless for a moment or two.
Dr. Graham and Louise nodded in unison before she said, "Congratulations, Constable Crane."
"Oh, thank you. Thank you both so very much for all of your help." Ichabod said, vigorously shaking Dr. Graham's hand and giving Matilda a quick hug.
"You're most welcome, sir." The doctor said with a soft chuckle.
"Of course. But your wife is terribly exhausted right now and she needs to rest. Let her sleep for a few hours and then you may go up and see her, alright?" Louise said.
Ichabod reluctantly nodded his head and let the two pass through to wash themselves off. He calmly walked back downstairs to the parlor to meet the anxious gaze of young Masbeth.
"Well?" The boy asked, sitting on the edge of the sofa.
"I have a son, young Masbeth. And both Katrina and the baby are perfectly fine. Now they are just resting."
Ichabod smiled a large excited grin and collapsed into his armchair once again before letting out a deep sigh of relief and closing his eyes.
"Congratulations, sir." Masbeth said with a proud smile.
Four to five hours had already passed. Dr. Graham had already left and Louise told Ichabod that he was finally allowed to see his wife. Ichabod thanked Louise for everything she had done with a hug, which caught her by surprise and slightly off-guard. She returned the gesture with an amused laugh and went to sit down with young Masbeth. Ichabod ran upstairs, gently knocked on the bedroom door, and went inside.
By now, the storm from before had completely stopped and the window was open to let some fresh air into the room. The full moon shining through the open window lit up the room and it cast a pale glow around everything. Ichabod walked over to the bed and saw an exhausted-looking Katrina sitting up in bed and holding a small bundle in her arms. She looked at her husband and flashed a tired smile.
"Hello, Ichabod. Come and meet Wilhelm." Katrina whispered.
Ichabod had to blink a few times to hold himself together. After taking a deep breath, he walked over to the bed and took a seat on the edge.
"Oh, Katrina…" He said, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Are you all right?"
"We both are." She replied, smiling down at the baby.
For a long while neither of them said a word; it didn't really seem necessary to say anything. All Ichabod could think about was how, after all this time, there they were; a family. He and Katrina actually had a family. From now on, it wasn't just Ichabod and Katrina, but Ichabod, Katrina, and now Wilhelm. He couldn't help wanting to try the name out, now that there was a little person to connect it to.
"Hello, Wilhelm…" He said softly, reaching out a tentative hand.
As gently and carefully as he could, he ran his hand over the baby's head. At his touch, he woke up a little, fidgeting about with his eyes screwed up tight. Ichabod began to cry; he almost couldn't believe that his wife had been carrying this inside of her for nine months. He realized now just how much this child meant to him. It wasn't just a baby; it was his will to live, his reason for waking up every morning. He leaned down and gave his infant son a kiss, and then pressed his lips against Katrina's.
"Isn't he beautiful?" She asked.
"Yes, he is…" He replied, tears falling from his face in joy. "Our son…"
Turning toward him, Katrina said, "Ichabod, I'm so happy."
"I am too." He replied with a proud smile.
"Wilhelm Thomas Crane…" She said before she began to cry with joy. "What do you think?"
"It's perfect… he is perfect." Ichabod lamented, tears were starting to fall from his eyes.
"I love you, Ichabod."
"I love you, too."
Katrina and Ichabod shared another kiss. It was a lovely little moment, a memory that Ichabod would keep with him for the rest of his life; he smiled at his wife and son. As of this moment, he and Katrina were the luckiest people alive, and they truly couldn't be any happier. A great new chapter in their lives had just begun and they were more than prepared for it.
