An Earnest Favour

XXXV

"Birth is not only about making babies. Birth is about making mothers — strong, competent, capable mothers who trust themselves and know their inner strength." Barbara Katz Rothman

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XXXV.

"A footling?" exclaimed Jack, feeling immense horror at the tone of voice the doctor had used. He could see the appearance of anguish on the man's face, and Jack knew that he ought to be very afraid. "What is there to do? How do you ensure this is safe?" he demanded to know.

The doctor pursed his lips and thought seriously. "It is childbirth, milord. It is never safe, particularly for children who are born early."

Claire whimpered in between her pains and she reached for Jack. Susanna made way for her brother, and Jack sat down on the bed beside Claire, taking her hand with his good arm.

Cecily gasped, and covered her mouth with her hands. She was near the doctor, and so could see what the doctor was seeing. "Oh, good Lord, it really is a foot."

"Mother!" hissed Jack, as he turned his attention back to Claire's panicked face. She was bright red and slick with sweat. The veins in his forehead were practically bulging. Her eyes, though, were so fearful, and so in need.

"Alright, alright," the doctor said under his breath. "I've delivered a footling before."

"Did the child survive? Did the mother?" panicked Grace. "Susanna, please, send a note to my mother," she urged, and Susanna obeyed immediately, retreating to the writing desk.

Claire squeezed Jack's hand, but Jack noticed how the doctor did not answer the question. Jack did not know much about childbirth at all, but this was obviously not how it was supposed to be.

"Everyone quiet!" ordered the doctor as Claire screamed through another pain. Claire tried with all her might to push, but the doctor looked dissatisfied and concerned. "The child won't deliver spontaneously. It needs help. First the knees," he murmured.

Jack tore his eyes from Claire, and he looked to his mother. Cecily had her eyes trained on the doctor's hands as he manipulated the child. She was watching in shock, before she gasped. "Oh, oh, two legs," she cried. "Ten toes."

"Now the shoulders ..."

Claire screamed as the doctor manoeuvred the baby again, her wails laboured and exhausted.

"Alright, everyone off the bed, I will need some room," the doctor then instructed seriously, and from where Jack was sitting, he could see the legs of his child being supported by the doctor.

His chest seized, but he obeyed.

"Doctor, the cord ..." Cecily uttered fearfully.

The cord? What cord?

"What about the cord?" stammered Grace as she climbed off of the bed.

"What's wrong?" sobbed Claire.

"Nothing, milady," replied the doctor. "This is the last of it, time for the head, and then she's here."

She. It was a girl. They had a daughter.

Jack watched as the doctor manipulated their daughter for the last time to free her head, and then she was born. His momentary joy all but dissipated when Jack realised that the baby made no noise.

A cord, a bloody, fleshy cord was wrapped around the baby's neck, and no sooner had Jack noticed it, the doctor unwound it. Her skin and lips were turning blue as the doctor laid the baby down on the bed.