Mrs. Roland whimpered and collapsed back onto her pillow, eyes half-closed in the misery of nausea and blinding pain. “I can’t do it,” she said, starting to cry. “Even if the baby’s ready.”
“We can help you feel better,” Nora said, straightening and smoothing her apron. A low dose of ether might slow the birth, but Mrs. Roland was in such distress… She glanced across the room to where she’d left the vaporizer.
“Nonsense.” Ruth leaned close, pressing the cold cloth to Mrs. Roland’s chest. “You’re doing as splendid as I’ve ever seen a woman do in twenty-five years.”
Mrs. Roland groaned as another contraction racked her muscles and bones. “My back,” she gasped.
“Roll to your side and we’ll help with that,” Ruth said, already coaxing her onto her left side and pressing her hands into the curve of Mrs. Roland’s lumbar region.
“It hurts,” the woman wailed, her voice half-smothered by her pillow.
The familiar smell of peppermint reached Nora’s nose. She hastened to the bed and picked up the cloth that had fallen aside, placing it on the back of Mrs. Roland’s neck.
“Peppermint water for summer births,” Ruth said quietly. “It cools the skin and helps with the nausea. Just avoid the eyes.”
Nora hadn’t noticed Ruth getting the solution ready—but then, she’d been preoccupied with the exam. And along with the lumbar pressure, it seemed to be helping. After several violent contractions, Nora checked again but the cervix and baby’s position hadn’t changed at all. Nor had they an hour later.
“She’s not progressing,” Nora whispered to Ruth, wiping sweat from her own hairline. “The head is low enough to reach with forceps, but her cervix isn’t fully open yet—”
“She’s been on her side too long,” Ruth said with a frown. “We need to help her stand.”
Nora frowned doubtfully. Mrs. Roland was exhausted. “In her state? Why would she stand?”
“Because her waters haven’t ruptured yet. But if she stands, they will.”
Nora shook her head. “I’d rather use the ether. When she’s able to relax—”
Ruth squared her chin. “I think she’s nearly there. Just a few more minutes. Let me try.”
Behind them, Mrs. Roland cried out again.
“Just a few more minutes,” Nora conceded. She was fast with the vaporizer, but it would take time to warm the water and the ether to the right temperature. If Ruth was right, and they managed to help Mrs. Roland’s waters rupture, it might be worth it.
“It’ll work, you’ll see,” Ruth said, and quickly slipped her arms around Mrs. Roland. “All right, love. We’re going to get you up. Baby can’t come with you on your side.”
Mrs. Roland shook her head. “My back.”
“I know something that will help,” Ruth promised as she began leveraging Mrs. Roland into a seated position. “Slide your legs over like that.” With a grunt, and Nora’s assistance, she managed to help Mrs. Roland until her feet met the floorboards, but just as she was perched at the edge of the bed, Mrs. Roland cried out and clung to the mattress.
Nora’s grip tightened. Mrs. Roland was tall. If she went down, they’d have a terrible time lifting her. Besides, she’d never, ever dropped a patient, and didn’t intend to now.
But before she could lay Mrs. Roland back on the bed, Ruth offered her a corded forearm, helping her take several steps to the foot of the bed. “Thank goodness you like poster beds. These are dead useful for births.” She guided Mrs. Roland’s hands to the ornate post. “Now, keep a firm hold, and when there’s a pain, lean over as much as you want. I’ll take the weight of your belly.”
Mrs. Roland cried out again, legs shaking beneath her. Ruth pressed one hand into the small of her back and bore up her inflated belly with the other.
“What can I do?” Nora asked Ruth quietly, beneath Mrs. Roland’s low moan.
“Help me hold her up.” Ruth checked the floor. “You must have a water bag made of iron,” she announced to Mrs. Roland. “It still hasn’t come apart.”
“Let me check again. Stay right where you are,” Nora instructed. She crawled into position, reached to check…
Her earlier misgivings left in a rush. “I can still feel the edges, but we’re nearly there.” It was working.
Mrs. Roland leaned forward, grinding her face into the hard wood of the bedpost. Nora put out her hand to stop her, but her teeth were gritted in supreme concentration. Then, without warning, Mrs. Roland shifted backward and squatted toward the floor, her mouth opening in a keening wail.
“What—” Scrambling out of the way, Nora had no time and insufficient strength to right her. But Ruth didn’t look anxious, and that steadied Nora’s nerves. With one smooth, practiced movement, Ruth took the spot behind Mrs. Roland and crouched low so it looked like their patient was sitting in her lap. Her forearms bulged as she squeezed the suffering woman’s hips.
“That helps,” Mrs. Roland gasped.
