The Amish Midwife. Patricia Davids
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window rolled down, and the woman driver spoke. “How much are the white pumpkins?”
He wanted to ignore her, but it wouldn’t be right to offend one of Anne’s customers. He looked around for a sign or price list but didn’t see one. Finally, he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just delivering these. The woman who runs the place will be here shortly.”
“I can’t wait. What if I gave you twenty dollars for three of them? Would that be enough?”
If the woman drove away, Anne wouldn’t get anything. Hoping he was making the right decision, he nodded. “I reckon it would.”
“That’s wonderful. I’ll take the three large ones in your wheelbarrow.” The trunk of her car lifted. She got out and offered him the bill. Joseph pocketed the money, loaded her pumpkins and then walked away quickly before he had to deal with anyone else.
His milking goats were lined up along the fence watching for him and bleating. They knew something was up. He was never this late with the milking. He waded through them and opened the gate that led to the milking parlor. The first dozen goats hurried through, and he shut the gate after them, stopping the rest. He could milk only twelve at a time. The others would have to wait their turn.
Inside the barn, the animals went up the waist-high ramp and followed each other to their places. He latched the stanchions around each of them and put their feed in the trays in front of them. When they were happily munching, he jumped down off the platform and moved to clean and dry the udder of each doe and attach the suction nozzles. As he did so, he examined each animal, looking for signs of injury or illness. When he was sure they were all sound, he turned on the machine and began the milking process. The milk flowed from the animals through clear plastic hoses to a collection tank that would keep the fresh milk refrigerated until a truck arrived and collected it three times a week. Joining a co-op of goat dairy farmers had allowed him to increase the size of his herd and have a steady market for his milk. He was almost at the point that he could afford to expand the herd again, but one man could only do so much.
Joseph went through his chores without really thinking about them. His mind was still focused on Fannie. How could she have left her baby? Why had she done it? Was a child that much of a hindrance to the career she wanted, or was there another reason she wanted him to keep Leah?
I’m desperate, Joe. She will be safe with you. I won’t worry about her for a single minute. Please. I know this sounds crazy, but it’s what’s best for her.
What did his sister’s words mean? Were they simply part of the lie she had concocted, or had she meant them? Shaking his head, he had to admit that his sister had become a stranger. He no longer knew what to believe.
Try as he might, he didn’t see a way he could care for Leah alone. Not while she was so little. He was out of the house from sunup to sunset most days. Even with electric milking machines, milking eighty goats twice a day took hours. Besides his goats, he had a small farm to run. Growing his own feed reduced his milk production costs and made sure his animals received the best nutrition possible. With winter approaching, he wouldn’t need to spend time in the fields, but this was when he caught up on equipment repairs and got ready for the spring kidding season. What would he do with the baby when he was out in the pastures all day and all night when the does were birthing? He couldn’t be in two places at once. It would be different if he had a full-time helper. Or a wife.
He glanced out the barn window toward Anne’s house. She said she would help him. Had she meant only today, or would she be willing to do more? He wouldn’t know unless he asked, but he wasn’t sure he should.
After finishing the milking, he returned to Anne’s house. He pulled the twenty-dollar bill from his pocket. “I sold three of your white pumpkins to a woman when I took your wheelbarrow up there. I didn’t know how much they were. When she offered this, I took it because she couldn’t wait.”
“That’s fine. A little more than I would have asked, but I’m not complaining. Danki.”
He looked around the room. “Where is Leah?”
“Sleeping. I made a bed for her in the other room. I’ll show you.” She led the way to her office, where she had lined a large plastic laundry hamper with a quilt. Leah lay on her back making tiny sucking motions with her mouth. A trickle of drool glistened on her chin.
Joseph squatted on his heels beside the basket. He couldn’t believe the difference between the screaming child he had shoved at Anne and this little dear. “She liked the milk?”
Anne smiled. “She loved it. I mixed it half and half with the electrolyte water just so it wasn’t such a drastic change for her. Sometimes switching to a new formula can upset a baby’s tummy unless you do it gradually. She hasn’t spit up or fussed since she finished her bottle.”
He breathed a quick prayer of thanks that Leah wasn’t screaming or hurting. He was more grateful than ever for Anne’s knowledge and skill. “You have worked a wonder here.”
“I’m glad she tolerated the goat’s milk. I had no idea what to try next if she didn’t. We would have had to take her to see a doctor.”
Now was the time to see how much Anne was willing to do for Leah. Rising to his feet, Joseph hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and took a deep breath. “I have a proposal for you, Anne Stoltzfus.”
“I’m listening,” Anne responded, waiting for Joseph to explain his odd statement.
A proposal. What did that mean? Was he going to ask her to take Leah again? Anne hardened her resolve. As much as she liked the babe, she couldn’t be Leah’s mother. What if something happened to her? The thought scared Anne to death.
Joseph shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “I will help you get your fields harvested and fix what needs fixing around the farm in exchange for your help with Leah.”
She folded her arms. “Exactly what kind of help?”
“Like a mother would do.”
“I’ve already said I won’t keep her.”
“Nay, you mistake my meaning. Like a kindt heedah. Feed her, bathe her, watch her while I’m working.”
“You mean you will harvest my pumpkin crop if I will be Leah’s nanny?”
“Ja. That is what I want. Would you accept such a bargain?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think it over.”
It was a tempting proposal. Hauling her large pumpkins out of the field was backbreaking work. Some of them weighed over twenty pounds. As strong as Joseph was, he could do it easily. He could probably carry one under each arm and one in his teeth and still push a loaded wheelbarrow. She had only another week to get them all picked unless an early freeze hit, then she wouldn’t have anything to harvest. His help would be a blessing.
But taking care of an infant? What would she be getting herself into? She had a produce business to run. She had mothers coming for prenatal and postnatal appointments. There was no telling when an expectant father would show up wanting her to come deliver a baby. She had three mothers due before Thanksgiving. What would she do with Leah then? Run her back to Joseph’s home? Amish women didn’t call for the midwife until they were ready to give birth. She wouldn’t have time to waste.
Still, the idea of Joseph raising Leah alone was as hard to imagine as her raising his goats. If she agreed to his proposal, she would be able to keep an eye on the baby, make sure she was thriving. The big question was, could she do it without becoming too attached to Leah?
The memory of losing her baby lingered in the back of her mind. Loving a child meant risking heartbreak. She shook her head.
Joseph sighed deeply. “You don’t want the job. I understand.