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Authors: Irina Shapiro
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held it close to me as it calmed down and seemed to settle. A tiny hand escaped from the blanket and pushed against my breast. I was sobbing with relief as I felt the baby’s stomach rise and fall as it sucked air into its lungs. The tiny mouth was moving, but the eyes were closed against the light of the candles.
Frances’s bodice was covered with bloodstains, but she looked on happily, proud to have been able to help. Hugo’s shirt was utterly ruined, and his hands were still covered in blood as he sank onto the bed, just staring at me as his mind finally accepted that it was over, and we were both alive. Archie tactfully removed himself and went to stand by the window where he wasn’t in the way.
I suddenly realized that I no longer felt any pain. All I felt was an overwhelming sense of wonder and a fierce love, the kind I’d never experienced in all my life. The tiny baby had been in the world for roughly two minutes, but everything that had been important just fell away and nothing mattered except the tiny being that now snuggled against my breast. I felt an all-encompassing joy, which could only be described as euphoria as I carefully pushed aside the blanket. I had been so terrified that the baby was dead that I hadn’t even noticed if it was a boy or a girl. I took a peek and smiled.
“Hello, my funny little valentine,” I whispered to her and kissed the warm little head.
“So, that’s it then?” Hugo asked with a smile as he drew closer and cupped the baby’s head. He looked overcome with love as he beheld his daughter. “Is she to be Valentine?”
We’d discussed several names over the past couple of months, but none of the names we picked seemed to fit now that we were looking at our baby. We’d come up with several good male names, but the female names just didn’t appeal to me at all. It was customary to give women traditional names, such as Elizabeth, Anne, or Catherine. Most women named their daughters after whatever queen happened to be on the throne, but I felt no such compulsion, wanting my child to have a name that was even a little unique.
“Yes, I think that’s it. Valentine Elise Everly. What do you think?”
“I think I love it,” Hugo replied as he reached out and accepted the baby from my arms. Elise had been his mother’s name, and although he never mentioned it, I thought it was nice to acknowledge the woman who had given him life and died at a young age in childbirth. He held the baby close, studying her little face. “I’ve never seen a newborn baby before. Are they always this little?”
“You wouldn’t call her little if she just emerged from your body,” I retorted. “I feel as if I just gave birth to a cannon ball.”
“What happened to Doctor Durant?” Hugo asked Archie as the younger man made to leave the room.
“He’s very ill.”
“God, of all the days to get ill,” Hugo said, exasperated. “I’m so sorry you were alone,” he said to me.
“I wasn’t alone; Archie was with me. He was a great midwife.”
“Thank you, Archie,” Hugo said emotionally as he clapped Archie on the shoulder.
“It was nothing; just don’t expect me to do it again,” he replied with a smile. “I might never recover.”
Chapter 8
Hugo removed his bloodstained shirt, wadded it into a ball, and threw it into the corner to be rescued by one of the maids tomorrow. Right now, he couldn’t think about practicalities. Elodie had finally gone, taking with her a pile of bloodied linens and rags that she’d used to clean up the afterbirth. Neve was asleep in the big bed, her face flushed and her forehead covered with perspiration. Her hair clung to her face, and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes, but to Hugo she’d never looked as beautiful as she did at that moment. He picked up the candle and walked closer to the bed to make sure she was sleeping peacefully. Hugo touched his hand to
Frances’s bodice was covered with bloodstains, but she looked on happily, proud to have been able to help. Hugo’s shirt was utterly ruined, and his hands were still covered in blood as he sank onto the bed, just staring at me as his mind finally accepted that it was over, and we were both alive. Archie tactfully removed himself and went to stand by the window where he wasn’t in the way.
I suddenly realized that I no longer felt any pain. All I felt was an overwhelming sense of wonder and a fierce love, the kind I’d never experienced in all my life. The tiny baby had been in the world for roughly two minutes, but everything that had been important just fell away and nothing mattered except the tiny being that now snuggled against my breast. I felt an all-encompassing joy, which could only be described as euphoria as I carefully pushed aside the blanket. I had been so terrified that the baby was dead that I hadn’t even noticed if it was a boy or a girl. I took a peek and smiled.
“Hello, my funny little valentine,” I whispered to her and kissed the warm little head.
“So, that’s it then?” Hugo asked with a smile as he drew closer and cupped the baby’s head. He looked overcome with love as he beheld his daughter. “Is she to be Valentine?”
We’d discussed several names over the past couple of months, but none of the names we picked seemed to fit now that we were looking at our baby. We’d come up with several good male names, but the female names just didn’t appeal to me at all. It was customary to give women traditional names, such as Elizabeth, Anne, or Catherine. Most women named their daughters after whatever queen happened to be on the throne, but I felt no such compulsion, wanting my child to have a name that was even a little unique.
“Yes, I think that’s it. Valentine Elise Everly. What do you think?”
“I think I love it,” Hugo replied as he reached out and accepted the baby from my arms. Elise had been his mother’s name, and although he never mentioned it, I thought it was nice to acknowledge the woman who had given him life and died at a young age in childbirth. He held the baby close, studying her little face. “I’ve never seen a newborn baby before. Are they always this little?”
“You wouldn’t call her little if she just emerged from your body,” I retorted. “I feel as if I just gave birth to a cannon ball.”
“What happened to Doctor Durant?” Hugo asked Archie as the younger man made to leave the room.
“He’s very ill.”
“God, of all the days to get ill,” Hugo said, exasperated. “I’m so sorry you were alone,” he said to me.
“I wasn’t alone; Archie was with me. He was a great midwife.”
“Thank you, Archie,” Hugo said emotionally as he clapped Archie on the shoulder.
“It was nothing; just don’t expect me to do it again,” he replied with a smile. “I might never recover.”
Chapter 8
Hugo removed his bloodstained shirt, wadded it into a ball, and threw it into the corner to be rescued by one of the maids tomorrow. Right now, he couldn’t think about practicalities. Elodie had finally gone, taking with her a pile of bloodied linens and rags that she’d used to clean up the afterbirth. Neve was asleep in the big bed, her face flushed and her forehead covered with perspiration. Her hair clung to her face, and there were dark smudges beneath her eyes, but to Hugo she’d never looked as beautiful as she did at that moment. He picked up the candle and walked closer to the bed to make sure she was sleeping peacefully. Hugo touched his hand to
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