vi
Thomas' funeral took place early the very next morning, in the strictest privacy. When she came into town, Michaela caught sight of the small group of mourners in the churchyard; she recognized the Slickers and Margaret, but Vernon was nowhere to be seen. Her heart sank as she was again overwhelmed by helplessness. She could only send a silent bur fervent prayer to the Heavens, wishing an eternal and peaceful rest to the little soul, and an eventual acceptance of its loss to the parents…
The weeks that followed saw Michaela spending every ounce of her energy in ensuring that Mortimer was adjusting to her patients and the way she had conducted her practice so far, while getting ready for the delivery. Every so often, Sully, and sometimes Philip, would tell her to stop fussing and sit down to rest. In the back of her mind, she knew they were right, and she had a strong foreboding that all her lists and precautions would prove useless in the end. But she had to keep bustling around, in order to quell her mounting apprehension. Katie's third birthday and their fourth wedding anniversary, two days later, provided her with welcome, joyful distractions, unfortunately over much to soon.
As her due date drew dangerously closer, there was still a matter, a very important one, left to be taken care of. The first evening of summer, the air was deliciously warm, so Michaela lingered under the porch, swaying slowly back and forth in the rocking chair, while Sully was putting Katie to bed. Brian was stretched under the oak, engrossed in Swift's Gulliver's Travels. When her husband came back a few minutes later, she suddenly felt that it was just the right moment to broach the subject. She stopped her rocking and looked up into his eyes earnestly. "Sully?"
"Need somethin'?"
Always the helpful and caring one, she smiled to herself. "Yes, I need us to do something…" she went on out loud.
He squatted down at her feet, enclosing her hands within the cocoon of his large, strong ones. "What is it?"
"Have you thought of a name for the baby?"
His mildly puzzled expression told her that he had not. "Not really. Always thought we had all the time in the world fer that," he answered with a small shrug.
"That's what we thought for Katie, too… Remember what happened when we realized we hadn't picked out a definite name for her. I don't want to go through such a brain-racking experience again when I'm in labor…"
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What ya gettin' at?" You tellin' me the baby might come early, like Kates?"
"It might, yes… But not right this minute," she placated him as he was about to spring up from his crouched position in panic.
He relaxed a little, bringing her hands to his lips.
"I reckon now's a good time to think 'bout it, don't ya?"
The corner of her mouth flew upward and her eyes twinkled: "Now is the perfect time."
"Got any idea?"
"Some… Boy names, mostly…"
"Which are?" he pressed.
The temptation was too strong to resist. She steeled her features into a mask of prim seriousness and announced: "Byron Ezra."
Sully was quick to splutter in indignation: "Yeah, and why not 'Watering Can'? Or maybe ya'd like 'Chamber Pot' better… Ain't those fine soundin' names, too, huh?"
"Ooh… Don't you like Byron Ezzzzraaaa?" she teased relentlessly, fighting the laughter that was bubbling in her throat.
As hard as he tried to appear angry, Sully was also having some trouble concealing his mirth. The small giggle that Michaela let out was infectious and soon they were both shaking with laughter. At last, Michaela composed herself enough to lean forward a little and cup his cheek.
"I love to laugh with you."
"Same here," he rejoined, branding an adoring kiss in her palm.
"What about you? Any suggestion?"
Sully sobered down and squeezed her hand gently.
"Joseph… after your Pa."
Michaela was speechless: no word in the English language could have expressed adequately the wealth of emotions she felt right at that moment...
"I wish you had met him, Sully," she eventually said wistfully.
"Would've loved to. See, namin' our child after him is my way of thankin' him for makin' ya the way you are."
Michaela was definitely moved to tears. She made to cup his face again, but he stopped her, taking hold of her wrists.
"Ya sure ya ain't goin' into labor, huh?"
"What? No, absolutely not. Why?" She stared at him, taken aback.
"Don't want ya to tear at my face again," he explained in a teasing tone. Both chuckled at the memory of that moment, while giving birth to their daughter in the woods, when she had nearly ripped off her husband's cheeks. It was debatable which one had suffered the most during the contraction!
"What if it's a girl?"
"Thought ya were sure it's gonna be a boy."
"Well, we might have another girl yet, so we better have a name ready for her, don't you think? I thought for a while of Charlotte, but one of the children might want to use it."
"Right. Let's say Josephine, then."
Michaela pondered Sully's insistence that they used her father's name for a moment. But before she could voice her opinion, Sully spoke up again: "See, we named our first child after our Mas, so it's only fittin' to name the second after your Pa, no matter its gender."
His comment prompted her to inquire: "What about your father, Sully? We should use his name too…" She instantly regretted her question when she saw a flash of hurt flicker in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"
Sully swallowed hard, but he gave her hand a gentle pat, reassuring her that he was not angry at her.
"It's all right Michaela. It's just… I just don't remember him at all. And with my brother not much older 'n me, he didn't remember our pa either. One thing I know is that Willy was named after 'im ."
Tentatively, she suggested: "Well, what do you say if we use William as our baby's middle name? This way we'll be honoring both your father and brother… They were, they are a part of you, and I love all of you," she finished in a loving whisper.
It was Sully's turn to shed a tear. Whenever he opened up to her about his family, she saw a heart-wrenching distress in his eyes, the kind of which made her want to hold him close and console him forever, making up for all the tragedies he'd been through. She reached out again, and this time Sully went willingly into her arms. She heard him whisper against her hair: "Thank you." She only stroked his shoulder as an answer.
Finally, he pulled away and sat back on his heels. He was smiling, albeit a little sadly, and his voice held a slight catch when he spoke: "Joseph William sounds good, but not Josephine William. I don't know no feminine for Will… Do ya?"
"I think it does exist… Wilhelmina, if I remember correctly."
Sully's brow furrowed somewhat at the foreign-sounding name, yet he did not object, only shrugged in acceptance. "It'll do. Just a middle name, after all."
"You're right, but we must admit that Josephine Wilhelmina is quite a mouthful, isn't it?"
"Yeah, even worse than Katherine Elizabeth…"
Sully's remark prompted them to chortle once again.
"Bedtime now, for both of ya," he said with tender authority.
"Yes, Sir," she complied, standing up with his support, only to find herself trapped in his arms and locked in a slow, appreciative kiss. He did not release her until they were both breathless; so absorbed they were with each other that they barely remember to call out to Brian before getting inside…
Their light-hearted conversation, in spite of the few emotional moments, had a surprisingly soothing effect on Michaela's disquiet: that night, she slept soundly and dreamlessly, the physical discomfort that came with the last stages of pregnancy forgotten for the time being.
* * *
A few days later, Michaela had insisted to go into town with Sully, when he had headed off to work at the new Clinic, stating that she was getting sick of being cooped up at the homestead. Winsomely, she entreated him to join her for lunch at Grace's. Unable to resist her seductive smile and invitation, he relented.
She spent a pleasant morning shopping at the mercantile, visiting with Dorothy, chatting amiably with some of her patients… Katie trotted on her mother's heels, but soon grew tired of being dragged along and began to whine softly. Since there were still a good hour left before lunchtime, Michaela led the way to the Clinic, confident that Mortimer would not mind that they occupied the nursery for a little while.
On the door was pinned a note which indicated that Dr. Bowen had gone on rounds and any emergency would be taken care of by Dr. Munroe… Out of habit, Michaela reached into her pocket for her key. Though she had not set foot in town for more than a week, she kept putting the key of the Clinic in her pocket every morning… That was one old habit she was not about to give up!
Inside, Katie made a bee-line for her room and her toys, while Michaela observed the familiar surroundings. At first sight, her office appeared neat and tidy, but to her watchful eyes, it was not clean enough. Without pausing to think, she rolled up her sleeves determinedly and proceeded with a careful dusting of the furniture.
A long whistling sound heralded the noon train just as the clock above the file cabinet struck twelve. Since she was not supposed to meet Sully until another half an hour, she still had time to clean a few windowpanes… She was about to climb on a chair to remove the curtains when a knock at the door brought her up short.
"Come in."
A woman, dressed in a traveling outfit, two huge carpetbags at her feet, stepped in. "Good day, Ma'am. I'm looking for Dr. Bowen."
"He hasn't come back yet. But if you're feeling unwell, maybe I can help you. I'm Dr. Michaela Quinn."
The stranger's greenish gray eyes widened. "You are Dr. Quinn?" She broke into a delighted smile and stammered: "It's… it's such… It's a great honor to meet you!" She shook eagerly the hand a dumbfounded Michaela was proffering. "The first female physician ever accepted in the American Medical Society. There are so many of us who admire you!"
"Us?" Who was this woman, and what was she talking about?
The woman's smile fell suddenly and she colored slightly in confusion. "Where are my manners?" she mumbled. "I'm Eileen Kingsley," she introduced herself, her tone and raised eyebrows indicating that the doctor was supposed to have heard about her. But for the life of her, Michaela could not remember Mortimer ever mentioning that he was expecting anyone by that name, nor by any other name for that matter. Yet, she had not seen him for days and, besides, she was not even supposed to be at the Clinic at all.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Bowen didn't tell me about any appointment he might have."
"I'm not here for an appointment. In fact, I decided to accept his proposal, so here I am!"
"Beg your pardon?" Proposal? Wasn't Mortimer already engaged to Lucy? Utterly nonplussed, Michaela waited for the newcomer's explanations.
"I'm sorry. What you must think of me…? None of this must make any sense to you. I thought Mort… Dr. Bowen would have told you, since you both work here…"
Her near slip of tongue did not get past Michaela, making her wonder just how familiar those two were.
"A few weeks ago I received a telegram from him, asking me if I'd be interested to work with him again," Eileen elaborated.
"Work? Again?" Michaela probed, more intrigued by the minute.
"Didn't he even tell you that he was looking for a nurse to assist him?"
Relieved that the situation was far from being as scabrous as she originally feared, Michaela smiled at last. "No, he didn't tell me. Truth is, I haven't seen much of him these last two weeks, since I haven't been in the Clinic in a while…"
"And by the look of you, you shouldn't be here now either, unless you…" Eileen's gaze roamed the room, taking in the pal of soapy water, the scrub and the dust cloth. "When is your baby due?" she asked with obviously faked casualness.
"Next week…" Michaela answered hesitantly, unsure of what to make of the woman's half smile…
"Mama!" Katie interrupted the awkward encounter as she rushed in her mother's office. "Mama, me hungwy!"
"Katherine Sully, where are your manners? Say hello to the lady."
Katie craned her neck to look up at the new face. "'Lo!"
"She's a darling," complimented Eileen, flattering Michaela's motherly pride. She squatted down and smiled at the little girl. "Hello, there. So you're hungry? Is your tummy growling?"
Katie nodded vigorously and held up her rag doll: "Dolly too!"
"Ooh, then we'd better hurry and get you girls at the Café!" suggested Michaela.
Katie clapped her hands and giggled in delight, loving the prospect of visiting with her godmother and eating whatever treats that would be on the menu.
Michaela hastily put away her cleaning material then, with Katie's hand clasped securely in her own, she turned back to Eileen: "What don't you join us for lunch, you could tell me more about your former collaboration with Dr. Bowen.… We can leave your luggage here, along with a note to let him know you've arrived."
"This is a wonderful idea! I must confess that I'm starving…"
As the threesome slowly made their way to the Café, Eileen began telling how she and Mortimer had met and befriended during his last year of internship in Chicago. Michaela did not pay much attention, distracted by the numerous stares they were receiving. The streets of Colorado Springs were rather crowded at this time of day, and she was acutely conscious of the gawking looks directed at Eileen, who did not seem to be afflicted or embarrassed in the least, and chatted on.
At the Café, many males, even married ones, continued to goggle and gape. It must be said that Eileen Kingsley was a very attractive woman: her severe apparel did little to conceal her shapely silhouette; her smile and laughter were infectious, her vitality and wit compelling, and the casual way in which her strawberry-blond curls were pinned under her traveling hat gave her an altogether youthful appearance, to the point that Michaela could not help but feel self-conscious of her own bloated figure, her shapeless clothing and her overall worn out aspect… To her relief, when Sully joined them, he merely nodded politely to Eileen and, upon seeing that the woman would not lack of attention between Hank, the Reverend, Loren and a few others who had been bold enough to gather around the table and introduce themselves, he excused his wife, then himself, hoisted Katie up in his arms, and stirred his girls away from the growing crowd.
"Sully, it's neither polite nor proper to leave her alone with all these men," Michaela reproached him.
"Michaela, she's a grown woman, she can take care of herself. And it ain't like somethin' might happen, here, in broad daylight. I wouldn't worry too much, if I were you."
As they sat at a small, more secluded table, Michaela spotted Mortimer out of the corner of her eye. He was gallantly kissing Eileen's hand, with a delighted smile across his face… Slightly miffed, she turned her attention back to her husband, deciding that the dynamics between those two was none of her business.
* * *
Michaela rose from the bed for an umpteenth trip to the privy, as she had done the previous two nights. Her patience was wearing thin with lack of sleep, lack of mobility… She wondered how she was going to manage another week like that. As much as she tried to reason with herself that her present state was perfectly normal and expected, it was of very little comfort at quarter to three in the morning, when she had not had a blink of sleep all night.
She slowly made her way to the commode, lips pressed tightly together against the groans and moans caused by the steady stabbing pain in her lower back. Even Sully's tender care the previous evening had not had its usual soothing effect. Once she had answered Nature's call, she felt another trickle, one she had no control over … Her eyes widened as comprehension dawned on her: her water had broken and the persistent pain she had been experiencing since supper had been, in fact, the preliminary stage of labor. To confirm her diagnosis, her abdomen suddenly tightened with the first contraction. It had begun…
As the tension in her womb eased, her heart started beating erratically: it's too soon, I'm not prepared, it can't happen now, she repeated herself. The small voice of reason that kept telling her that there was nothing to do but endure the pain and bring forth the much-wanted child was fighting hard against the utter terror that gripped her throat and made her almost choke. What if the baby is… what if it isn't…? Her mind spiraled out of control with its maddening self questioning. What if I can't…Her imagination was conjuring up nightmarish visions, so much worse than what she had dreamt about before Katie's birth. What little remained of her supper churned sickeningly in her compressed stomach and she could not help but throw it up.
Don't do this… don't do this to yourself… Finally, what remained of her rationality won out. She took a few deep, cleansing breaths. She needed to stay in control, keep a clear head.
Don't think about bad things… only good… Sully's words of reassurance from three years before chimed in her mind. Good things… This is the little one we've been praying for, for more than a year… In a few hours, we'll be holding our baby in our arms… Everything had turned out all right with Katie, despite a few problems during the pregnancy and the appalling circumstances of her delivery. With this one, nothing seriously wrong had happened, Michaela realized in awe: no spotting, no false labor… except for a few mild episodes of nausea and dizziness, and in spite of her anxiety, first over Sully's and her estrangement then, soon after, because of what happened to Thomas, her pregnancy had run its course in incredibly smooth fashion.
You never know… The faces of some of her former expectant patients flashed before her eyes: mothers-to-be who had gone through heavenly pregnancies only to have their felicity cut short, shattered, by the birth of a drastically ill, or worse, stillborn child, sometimes losing their own lives in the process. She suddenly remembered Ginny Baker, exhausted but hopeful, telling her: "Clayton and me ain't quittin'. We're gonna have our baby." Now the young woman was the elated mother of twins, and Michaela had seen for herself that both babies were happy and thriving.
Drawing from Ginny's exemplary courage and optimism the fortitude she would need to bear the long hours of pain and uncertainty ahead, Michaela resolutely returned to her room, pausing mid-way in the stairs to withstand another contraction. Instinctively she sensed that this labor would be much shorter than with Katie: the first two contractions were barely ten minutes apart, and with her water already broken… It would be wiser, not to mention safer, to stay home and send Sully to fetch Philip or Mortimer, than to try and make it to the Clinic. As silently as she could, as to not wake the children, she reached the master bedroom, circled the bed, lit the lamp and shook her slumbering husband's shoulder.
"Sully…? Sully, wake up!" she whispered near his ear.
"Mmmh… What is it…?"
She allowed him to yawn and stretch, as he sat up, before she blurted out: "It's time."
It took but a second to Sully to spring out of bed and put on his buckskins.
"All right, let's get ya to the Clinic. Get dressed and wake Brian up while I hitch up the wagon," he enjoined her, his voice laced with panic.
"Sully, no… it's too late."
That stopped him short. "What d'ya mean, too late?"
"My water just broke a few minutes ago…"
"We can make it, I know we can…"
"Sully, listen to me," she cut him off. "Remember what I told you when Katie was born? Labor is usually accelerated once the membranes rupture, plus…"
"…there's an increased risk of infection," he recited. "Yeah, I remembered…"
"You go and bring back the first doctor you find…"
"No way I'm leavin' ya alone here!"
"But…"
"No buts, Brian will go, I'm stayin' with ya."
"Sully, please, don't…"
It was too late: Sully was already in the corridor, knocking at Brian's door. Seconds later, she heard the two men racing down the stairs, neither one caring that they might wake Katie, which, in fact, they did: the little girl started wailing and calling to her parents. Praying that a contraction, at least not a strong one, would not occur during the next few minutes, Michaela waddled to her daughter's room. Katie was sitting up on her bed, rubbing her eyes with both fists. Downstairs, the door banged shut, startling the pair.
"Mama," Katie whined when she registered her mother's presence at her side.
"Ssh, Sweetheart, it's all right… Ssh…," Michaela crooned as she pushed gently Katie back down. "Go back to sleep, Mama's here…"
Within minutes, Katie was back to the land of dreams, lulled by her mother's soft voice and the warm stroke of the maternal hand on her hair, blissfully unaware that Michaela's other hand was clutching forcefully at the coverlet as another contraction hit.
Michaela quietly left the child's bedside, while she could still move around. On the threshold, she almost collided with Sully, who was carrying a basin half full of water.
"Watcha doin' outta bed?" he hissed reproachfully.
"Your daughter was awake and crying, thanks to the racket Brian and you made," she fired back in a harsh whisper. Sully looked down, suitably contrite. They re-entered their bedroom; Sully assisted her back into bed while she went on with her diatribe:
"… And what did you have to wake up Brian for? You could have let him sleep…"
"Yeah, and what if I couldn't find anybody in time? Ya woulda stayed here all alone with the kids…? At least I can help ya if the doc can't make it. We can do it together, like we did with Katie, right?"
She merely nodded to his rhetorical question, too overcome by her emotions to find her voice. Satisfied that he had made his point, he went downstairs again to get her medical bag and some more towels.
Alone with her thoughts and the still mild, intermittent pains, she reflected on the circumstances of the impending birth of her second child. If she was honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was actually glad to stay at the homestead: the Clinic might offer many amenities, yet she would never trade them for the comfort and security of her home. She only had a small regret: the baby would not be born on the bed where he had been conceived… She flushed at the fleeting memory.
Sully came back at that moment.
"You all right? Too hot?"
"No. I'm fine, Sully."
"Ya sure? You're all red in the face, like when…" he stopped in mid-sentence as she burst into laughter and blushed more furiously than ever. "What? What's so funny?"
Michaela again could not find her voice she was laughing so hard at the silliness of it all, and at herself. Imagine that: one minute she was angry, the next tearful, and the last, she was giggling hysterically. And Sully's flabbergasted expression did little to help. Finally he sat next to her on the bed and nudged her gently with his elbow. "Tell me," he besought.
She hesitated, embarrassed. "It's silly, really…"
"Tell me," he insisted.
She bit her lip, eyes downcast. "I was… thinking…"
"Yeah… and…?"
"Never mind, Sully… forget it…"
"Can't forget somethin' I don't know of," he pointed out shrewdly.
"Fine," she relented. "I was thinking that our baby isn't going to be b… Ouch!" She doubled over as a strong contraction hit and stole her breath. Teeth gritted and sweat breaking at her hairline, she wondered how she would manage to remain quiet when the pangs would get closer and more strenuous. Had Katie been older, she could have understood why her mother cried out, but she still was too little.
"Sully…"
"You all right?"
"Yes… If Katie wakes… wakes up again," she panted, "will you go to her… reassure her?"
"Sure, but…" He frowned. "Are they that painful already?"
"It's bearable for now," she assured him.
"If ya need to yell, don't hold back, I'll explain to Kates that she don't gotta be afraid."
"Good… thank you."
He placed a gentle kiss on her moist temple. "What were ya gonna tell me?" he asked, reminding her of her previous somewhat brazen thoughts. She lowered her eyes and bit her lip.
"Well, as much as I'm glad to be home rather that in the middle of nowhere…" They both chuckled softly. "There's a small part of me that regrets…"
Sully misinterpreted her hesitation: "Don't tell me ya'd want to be under a tree again!"
Seeing his bewildered expression, she shook her head. "That's not what I meant, Sully," she sniggered dryly. "I just thought that it would have been… fitting, somehow, for our baby to be born at the Clinic…"
"In our room, ya mean?" he clarified, eyes twinkling mischievously.
"Yes, in that room, on that bed," she amended, feeling the heat returning to her cheeks.
Sully ducked his head to kiss her fully on the lips.
"You're right, it woulda been fittin', like things woulda come full circle, somehow… but it doesn't really matter, does it? All I care 'bout is knowin' you're safe, that the kids are safe, too."
"That's all I care about, too, Sully: for our family to be safe, and happy." She leaned toward him to return his kiss, but stopped midway as she felt her belly hardening under her palm. So soon… she could not believe how quickly the contractions were getting closer to each other, and longer. She let out a few short breaths through pursed lips, having found that it helped her bear the pain, but soon it got too much and an involuntary cry escaped her.
Sully looked on helplessly, knowing better than to touch her when she was hurting like that. Through her squinted eyelids, she could see worry warring with anticipation on his face. When the contraction subsided and she could get her breath back, she reached for his hand. It felt so good to have him with her, and she needed him to know that.
"Thank you for being here with me."
He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing softly the knuckles. "No other place I'd rather be, you know that."
"I know. I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here for the birth of our baby… You see, until you helped me deliver Katie, I had pictured you waiting outside the Clinic, like all fathers-to-be, and now I realize that I've never liked this prospect one bit, that deep down, I've always wanted you by my side."
"Really?" he murmured, moved.
"Really. I can't imagine you not being present for our children's coming into the world, being the one to hold our babies first before putting them in my arms. Truth is, even if Philip, or Mortimer, can't be here on time, I feel safe knowing that you'll be here."
Sully's features were naked with emotion as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Nothin' could keep me away from you," he breathed. Anxiety crept back into his eyes as he inquired softly: "Ya really think the doc won't make it?"
Understanding that, although he was willing to deliver their child on his own, he would feel much better if a doctor was around in case something might go wrong, Michaela squeezed his hand comfortingly.
"No, but we must be prepared, just in case. This labor is progressing quite rapidly, more than it was for Katie."
"It is?"
Michaela opened her mouth to answer but the only sound that came forth was a strangled cry, followed by a much shriller one, and her grip onto Sully's hand tightened frenetically. Pain felt like huge, dark waves in the tempest that was assaulting her body, swelling higher to crush her with increasing force at each new contraction. Yet she could not stop Nature from taking its course. She could only accept to be nothing but a simple creature confronted to the age-old task of bringing forth a new little being…
Labor was indeed progressing with unsettling alacrity. Sully spent the next hour rushing back and forth between Katie's room and theirs. Michaela could no longer refrain from screaming, which scared the little girl to no end. Sully was getting more agitated by the minute, trying to comfort both his wife and daughter. Michaela ended up trying to muffle her cries into a pillow. When she pulled it away from her face to catch her breath, she found herself alone, listening to the faint sounds of Katie's sobs and Sully's voice gently repeating her that she didn't need to be afraid, that soon she would meet her new brother or sister and that her mother was yelling because she was working very hard to help the baby get born…
Tears collected at the corners of Michaela's eyes and ran down her temples: she could have never found a better father for her children, nor a better man to share her life with. Again she found herself thinking of the Tanners, of the way their family seemed to be falling completely apart, and now she knew with absolute certainty that if anything were to happen to their child, Sully would never, ever, turn his back to their family. That thought was enough to prompt her earlier fears to resurface: what would she do, how would she cope? How could they bear to watch their own flesh and blood suffer…?
When Sully came back, she was still quietly weeping. She had rolled onto her side and curled into fetal position, the posture providing some relief for the time being. As soon as he noticed her tear-stained cheeks, he knelt by her bedside, a worried frown marring his features.
"I wish ya didn't have to hurt so much," he murmured as he brushed back the damp locks that clung to her forehead. Although he had misinterpreted the reason behind her tears, his tender concern was enough to make her cry harder. Beyond speech, she fiercely clasped the hand he had buried in her hair, eyes closed tight and breathing reduced to a few shallow pants. The pain was so excruciating that she did not even have the strength to make a sound. When it let up, she opened her eyes to find Sully's face inches from hers.
"Sul-ll-l-y," she whimpered.
"Ssh, you're doin' great… Hang on, Michaela…"
She burst into tears.
"Ya can do this…"
"Sully!"
"Tell me what I can do to help ya…"
She knew that if she was to articulate her anguish, Sully would understand and comfort her, but that was just it, she could not find the words. She could only stare with shimmering eyes at him; he who was her most precious treasure besides her children, he who had been her strength ever since they had met…
"Don't be scared," he crooned soothingly, although he had trouble to hide his own panic. The realization that he was just as scared as she was hit her full force in time with yet another contraction. Her whimper grew into a full-fledged shriek; fat beads of perspiration, blended with her hot tears, were rolling down her skin as if her entire body was shedding tears of pain from every pore… A cool cloth wiped up her face, neck and shoulders in light circling massages, while his voice, velvet-soft but assertive, pervaded the shroud of her torment: "I know you are, an' I am, too," he was saying, "just don't forget we're in this together. Remember, what happens to ya, happens to me, huh…?"
"You… You're scared?" she croaked.
"'Bout as much as I was when ya were havin' Katie. Can't help but think of all that might go wrong, for ya, or the baby. Always in the back of my mind, I reckon. And I know it's been on yours, too, 'cause of what happened to the Tanner baby…"
He knew; he had sensed it somehow. Was it their uncanny, yet undeniable bond that had enabled him to read her mind once again? Was it because he knew her so well that he had guessed where her insecurities lay?
"… Just like ya know we can't let fear control us," he went on, summoning the traumatic memory of when she had been shot. His words struck a chord in her, he was right, she could not let herself wallow in dread and self-questioning any longer.
"That ain't good for you, ain't good for the baby," he murmured, completing her thoughts.
She nodded, her resolve strengthening, and as the burden that was pressing down on her soul lifted a little, the lingering tension that remained even between the contractions lessened, to the point that the next pang felt somehow less painful, though the pressure in her lower back was getting more pronounced. Her experience as a physician told her that it was due to the way the baby was presenting. And she knew what she could do about this…
"Sully?" she called with as much poise as she could muster.
"What?"
"Please bring me my bag, and help me sit up."
Soon the black leather bag sat reassuringly by her side, and she was propped up against the headboard, surrounded by several pillows. There was a question in Sully's eyes, one she could identify very clearly.
"The baby's coming out in a way that makes my back hurts more," she explained, assuming her professional attitude in an attempt to alleviate his trepidation, and maybe her own. His eyebrows flew upward as his worry grew into sheer dismay.
"What d'ya mean? You need an operation?"
"N…no, I don't think so, but sometimes the back of the baby's head presses on the mother's sacral nerves, causing worse pain than when the baby comes face downward…" She saw Sully blink uncomfortably, trying to grasp what she was saying.
"I wish Philip was here, he'd give you somethin' for the pain…"
"He wouldn't, Sully. Unless he had to put me under to perform a Caesarian, it's far too dangerous to give drugs to a woman during birth. It would make me confused, I wouldn't be able to push properly when I'd need to…"
"But… there gotta be somethin' I can do to help ya, ain't it?"
"You'll have to help me stay as calm and focused as possible."
"Sure…"
"We can do it, Sully…"
"… And we w… Ouch!"
Another contraction hit, and Michaela squeezed her husband hand so hard that he could help crying out, more out of surprise than actual pain. He glanced in disbelief at the small, pale, fragile-looking fingers intertwined with his: so much strength in such a tiny hand…
"Strong one, uh?"
Michaela nodded fiercely, unable to answer verbally she was breathing so hard to withstand the pain.
Another hour passed, during which Sully tried his best to alleviate his wife's suffering, before Brian finally came back with Philip.
The physician barely paused to take off his coat and say hello, that he already was scrubbing energetically his hands.
"It's all right Sully, I'll take it from here. Why won't you go downstairs and get us some coffee?"
"No!" Michaela and Sully exclaimed in unison.
"All right, all right," chuckled Philip.
"I'll fetch the coffee, Doc Munroe," said Brian sleepily, who still stood in the doorway.
"Thank you Brian, that'll be most welcome"
Philip bent over his patient, rearranging the sheet so that only he could see and follow the stages of the delivery.
"Water broke yet?"
"Yeah, a little 'fore three…"
"How far apart are the contractions?"
As if on cue, another one occurred right at that moment. Michaela gasped and moaned pitifully. The pain was almost unbearable, and barely left her enough time now between each contraction to recover.
"Two minutes, maybe less, I dunno, they keep getting closer…" Sully's voice seemed to be coming from far away. She was starting to feel light-headed, so the rest of the exchange between the two men was lost to her. She was barely aware of Philip's careful examination, until a cool compress was pressed on her brow and cheeks. Sully's eyes were a few inches from hers. She relaxed a little, then she focused again on Philip.
"You're fully dilated, now," he said.
"I guess I am, " Michaela gasped, "I've been feeling the need to push during the… the few last c…contractions".
"All right, so next contraction…"
"I know, " she interrupted. "Philip, I think it's back labor, the pain…"
"Oh dear, well the best is to try to make it quick, uh?"
Michaela nodded wordlessly again, tears starting to flow anew as an overwhelmingly painful contraction struck, almost blotting the natural urge to push. Squeezing Sully's hand impossibly further, she mustered as much strength as she could and bore down. She really felt like someone had stabbed her in her lower back and was moving a sharp, large knife around. It was so hard to push when she had to fight off so much pain, to maintain her focus on what she was supposed to, when tiny black spots were dancing before her eyes. Only Sully's hand, his hushed words of encouragement kept her from submitting to her need to escape into unconsciousness.
Michaela managed to push the baby enough for the top of its head to finally appear, but she was quickly losing her strength and resolve, and she was starting to panic that she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.
Philip seemed to be aware that his patient was about to give out.
"You were right, the baby's definitely facing outwards. We could try lo let it come out at its own pace, but… I think maybe I could…?"
"An episiotomy?" breathed Michaela, eyes closed.
"Yes, it would speed things up, and spare you unnecessary pain."
Sully was amazed. Here was his wife, in the throes of a difficult delivery, half knocked out by the pain, and yet her instinct as a doctor was still as sharp as ever so she had guessed immediately what was on Philip's mind. But Michaela, surprisingly, shook her head, before letting out an ear-splinting screech. She was hurting so much that she couldn't push efficiently, and the baby's head didn't move at all. When the contraction relented at last, she squeaked, between sobs:
"Do it, please… I-I can't do it anymore, pl-please." She hadn't seen that Philip had anticipated her change or heart and prepared the scissors. And she didn't even feel when he cut into the taut flesh.
Sully was glad he couldn't see what was going on, sitting near his wife's head. He didn't like the sound of that episo-thing one bit, even though he trusted Philip as much as Michaela did. He concentrated on sponging Michaela's brow, and murmuring comforting words to her. She had asked him to keep her calm and focused, and that was what he was going to do.
"I know you're exhausted, Michaela, but if you can just hold out a little longer… a few good pushes should do the trick," said Philip encouragingly.
"Ya hear? Ya can do it, Michaela, I know you can."
She nodded ever so slightly. Of course she could do it. She had to. And she wanted to see her baby. She was a few contractions away from meeting her new son or daughter. When she felt her belly tightening for the next one, she took in as much air as she could. The pressure in her lower back was torturing her, but she forged ahead, pushing long and hard, twice. And suddenly, the pressure all but disappeared, only to be replaced by an unsettling numbness, just as Philip commented: "You did wonderfully, the head's out!"
"Hear that? The head's out, it's almost over."
The next contraction was already upon her, and she pushed again, with a raspy, drawn-out groan, and she could picture the baby slipping out into the doctor's hand as she felt it leave her body with a kind of slurping sound.
The newborn gurgled as Philip cut the cord and cleaned its nose and mouth, then screamed heartily, as if protesting at being torn from the warm security of its mother's womb. Philip raised the red, squirming baby from behind the screen of the sheet, for the new parents to see:
"Michaela, Sully, meet your son."
Michaela burst into tears again as Sully took the precious bundle from the doctor to place it in it's mother's arm. Joy, relief and triumph exploded within her. Too overcome to speak, she could only look rapturously at her son who soon quieted. She fingered his small hands and feet tenderly, detailing his perfection. Her prayers had been answered, her baby was healthy, safe and sound in their arms, and she would do anything to ensure that no harm would come to him if she could help it. She remembered feeling that deep, primeval need to protect her child with Katie, but it seemed to have grown threefold with her son's birth.
"Are you looking for an eleventh toe, Michaela?" teased Philip as he looked up from the instruments he had just put back in his bag.
She chuckled softly, too elated not to take Philip's question good-naturedly.
"So, how are you going to name this big boy?"
"Joseph William."
Philip nodded appreciatively. "A good, strong name, for a good, strong boy," he commented.
"We hope so," murmured Michaela, still examining the newborn lovingly. The baby was blinking sleepily, his eyes two black, shimmering agates. He did not seem to care the least that he was still bloody and slimy, for he was securely held by warm, loving arms, his mother's arms, close to her heart, which beat had lulled and sustained him for nine months. He closed his eyes calmly, blissfully unaware that the exhausting experience he had just lived was just the beginning of a long and eventful life.
Michaela sighed contentedly. Right now, all was well in her little corner of the world, and she was really looking forward to raising her children with Sully by her side. And her career was far from being over, so she would probably come across other families like the Tanners. She could only hope that she would be able to help them better.