Would you believe it, Emily ended up going into labour right in the middle of a blizzard. She wasnt due for another three weeks, so we all figured the snow would let up and the frost would settle by then, giving us plenty of time to get to the hospital. But no, she had to start now! Well, it wasnt really Emily who decided, was it? It was the little one inside her, clearly fed up of having no space left, and the sixth day of snowstorm didnt bother him in the slightest.
No car could make it out to the village in this weather. The roads were so buried that youd sink up to your knees, and snow still kept tumbling down, as if someone in the sky had torn a giant bag of flour. Look out the window and its just a whirling wall of white. And if you dared pop out into the garden, forget about opening your eyesthe wind pelted snow right in your face, icy and sharp.
So, thats the kind of blizzard the baby decided to arrive in.
From the morning, Emily felt offaching back, heavy and restless, couldnt get comfy whether she lay down or paced around the house. Her mother-in-law, Mrs. Williams, spotted something was up.
Emily, love, are you planning to have that baby today or what? Youre all over the place.
I dont know, Mum, just feel all unsettled.
Come here, let me see your bump.
Now, Mrs. Williams wasnt exactly an expert in these matters. These days, its doctors and hospitals who handle everything, and old-fashioned midwifery is more or less a thing of the past. Theres just one midwife left in the whole village, whereas when she was younger, there used to be three old ladies doing the job.
It looks like the bumps dropped, Emily. Little one must have decided its his time.
How can it be, Mum? Its still early!
We dont get to choose, sweetheart. Its as the good Lord sees fit.
Emilys eyes filled with tears. It was her first baby, she didnt understand what was happening, and no one could explain it. Mrs. Williams herself only had one son, decades ago, so she barely remembered any of it.
Emily, Im off to get Mrs. Benson. She plonked a kettle on the stove. When it boils, switch it off. If youve got the strength, get some clean towels and sheets. You know where theyre kept, just get them ready, but dont push yourself. If its too much, just leave it. When I had Michael, Mrs. Benson told me to keep moving around and breathe deep. Opens things up quicker, she said. She tied her woollen scarf tightly. Ill stop off at your mums on the way, too. You hold on, love, Mrs. Benson knows what shes doing. In my day, people came from other villages just to have her deliver their babies. Shes a real treasure.
With that, Emilys mother-in-law bundled herself up, grabbed a broom handle to steady herself, and disappeared into the driving snow.
Emily was left on her own. She felt even more afraidwhat if it started for real and there was no one there? Would her mother-in-law make it in this blizzard, or would she fall somewhere? And what if her mum couldnt get there either, though really, why wouldnt she?
She had no idea what to do, except that she needed to walk around and breathe deeply. But how do you breathe when pain clutches at you so tightly you can barely draw breath?
Oh, and if only Michael were here to reassure her, to tell her she could do this and that hed stay close. But thanks to this wretched blizzard, he couldnt return from the cityno buses, no road, nothing. And he didnt even know their son or daughter was about to be born. Her back ached terribly.
Then her mum, bundled tight and breathing hard, tumbled into the porch in a flurry of snow.
Emily! Emmy! Mrs. Williams said youd started!
Yes, Mum.
Alright, darling, Im coming. I brought some dried berries, Ill brew up a compote. Need to boil some water…
About an hour later, her mother-in-law returned with Mrs. Benson. The midwifewrinkled and sprightlyexamined Emily and declared, Shell have the baby come morning.
What do you mean, morning? Emily gasped. Its not even lunchtime, and I only started getting twinges yesterday.
That was just the warm-up, my dear. Sometimes those start days early. But now things are moving, though only a little. Dont rush, love, youll have your baby tomorrow. Ill go home for now.
Please stay, Mrs. Benson, begged Emily. You’re the only one who knows what youre doing, and I feel calmer with you here.
The old woman, whod delivered hundreds of babies in her time, took pity on her. Alright, Ill stay. When the mother is calm, the baby comes quicker.
Emily had no idea early signs were like the first snowdropslovely but short-lived. Then came the real thing, and she was totally unprepared. The painlike she was being torn from the inside, couldnt breathe, couldnt move, couldnt feel a thing except agony. Lying down was impossible, walking even worse. She couldnt think of anything but the pain.
Her mum and mother-in-law were at a loss, going round and round the house, wringing their hands, watching over their poor Emily and not knowing what to do. Mrs. Benson chased them off to iron sheets so theyd stop fussing.
By night, things calmed. Mrs. Benson checkedfour fingers dilation, she said. Slow going, first time and all, everythings untrodden ground, hard for the baby and hard for Emily, toobeyond words. She had no strength left. The contractions eased for a bit; at least she managed a little food. Mrs. Benson tucked her in for a quick restshed need the energy.
Meanwhile, the storm outside only got fiercer.
Emily bolted upright at 4 a.m.still pitch-dark, only Mrs. Benson quietly snoring nearby.
God, help me, she whispered, turning her gaze to the cross on the dresser. Let the baby come quickly.
It all kicked off again, such pain she couldnt see straight. Mrs. Benson checkedfive fingers dilation. Still a way to go… but thats normal for a first baby, takes longer. Shell manage.
By the time dawn finally lightened the windows, Emily was spenther nightie stuck to her, eyes glassy, hair a tangled mess.
Just a little bit more, encouraged Mrs. Benson. Babys right there.
Granny, help me, Emily pleaded, Granny, help, please, I cant”
Emily, love, what are you on about? her mum fretted. Grannys not here, you must be imagining her. She turned to Mrs. Williams, She calls her great-gran Grannyshe could never say grandma when she was little, always just Granny. Even now, its stuck. Her Granny Zoe has always doted on Emily, first great-grandchild and all that.
Emily, I can see the babys head! Come on, sweetheart, try, just one more big push. Like thispuff, puff, puff, Mrs. Benson breathed with her.
Emily screamed with what she had left, pushed, breathed, and screamed again.
Granny, please, I cant anymore, she gasped and, finally, the baby was born, right into Mrs. Bensons expert hands.
Maybe this is the last little one Ill ever deliver, Mrs. Benson thought, beaming at the squirming bundle of new life. She carefully placed the baby on Emilys tummy.
Its a boy, Emilya gorgeous boy! And listen to that cry, hell be running the show someday, everyonell dance his tune.
Emily sobbed, kissing his tiny fingers. How on earth did such a miracle fit inside her? Oh, if only Michael were here to see what a beautiful son theyd made together, the best in the world.
Charlie, my little Charlie, she murmured.
I thought you said hed be called George if it was a boy? her mother-in-law asked, surprised.
Well, how could he be a George when hes clearly a Charlie! Emily smiled. Charles Michael.
Mrs. Benson tidied up, ready to head home. Welcoming new life was always a joy, but it left her drainedshed need a good sleep herself, if she could only make it home through the snow.
Emily and her son were out cold by then, and her mum got ready to leave, too. She hadnt been home for a day and a night as it was. She wrapped her shawl up to her eyes, quietly said goodbye to Mrs. Williams, and crept out into the dawn.
Funny, the blizzard was easing at lastthe snow falling in fine grains rather than big clumps, and in no time at all, it might stop. Michael would be back by tomorrow or the day after. Nearly home now.
Actually, Ill pop in to see Granny Zoe firstgive her the good news. Maybe she needs something, maybe shes out of bread, though I did bring some over just yesterday, and she hardly eats a thing.
Granny Zoe, Michaels grandmother and Emilys great-gran, lived a couple of doors downshed be ninety-three come summer. Had lived alone for ages, never wanted to move. Still looked after herself well enough, and her family were always near to help.
It took a bit of effort, but Emilys mum managed to open the gatethe snow showed Michael must have visited yesterday, his shovel propped up by the fence. She cleared the path as best she could, swept the step, and went inside.
Granny Zoe! Granny Zoe! she called, stamping her feet and shaking off snow. You had to shoutshe was hard of hearing. Granny, its me, Nancy. Just coming to see how you are.
No answerclearly, she was snoozing. Might be a shame to wake her. Nancy took off her coat, slid off her boots, and walked into the sitting room…
There was Granny Zoe, lying on the bed, hands folded gently, wearing clean, unfamiliar clothes and a pristine white headscarf Nancy hadnt seen before. Nancy saw straight awayit was her going-away dress. She went over, wiped her tears, and gently closed the old womans eyes.
She noticed Emilys photo on the bedside table, next to a small cross and a stub of candle.
Thank you, Granny, Nancy whispered, You helped Emily. Shes had a son. Shes named him Charles. But you know that already, dont you, Granny? She kissed her soft, wrinkled cheek. Thank you…Nancy stood quietly for a moment, listening to the hush that pressed against the small house, broken only by the far-off crow of a waking rooster and the soft sigh of wind against windowpanes. She placed her palm on the old patchwork quilt, feeling both warmth and emptiness. Yet as she turned to leave, a gentle calm settled in her heart, as if Granny Zoes presence lingered, as if her spirit had slipped seamlessly from caring for the living to watching over them just the same.
Outside, the snow had stopped at last. The world felt bright and strange and new. Nancy looked across the yardup the main road, battered by storm after storm, untouched but now promising. Far off, the hopeful screech of a plough broke the hush. The first rays of sun caught on sparkling mounds, dazzling and pure, so that all the world glittered as if sprinkled with diamonds.
Soon enough, Michael would come trudging home, coat heavy with frost but a wide, wondering grin on his tired face, slipping inside to find Emily and their tiny, perfect son. Mrs. Williams would bring soup, Mrs. Bensons hands would find more little ones to welcome, and the village would gather with gifts and stories, filling the house with laughter and love.
And at the center of it all, Emily, cradling her newborn, would pause in the sunlight slanting through the window, feeling the warmth of all who had come before herof mothers and grandmothers, of patient hands and whispered prayers, of an old womans love so fierce it could chase away the longest winter night. She pressed a kiss to Charlies brow and, gazing out over the brightening fields, knewsomehow, she was never alone.
The first robin sang from the boughs above, and spring began.
