The Amish Midwife

“Joseph, what are you doing with a bubbel? Where’s her mudder?” The babe looked to be only a few months old.

“Gone.”

“Gone where? Who is the mudder?” None of this made sense. Anne felt like she was caught in a bad dream.

“It’s Fannie’s child.”

“Fannie?”

“My sister.”

Anne had heard that Joseph’s sister had left the Amish years ago. It had broken his heart, or so everyone said. Anne wasn’t sure he had a heart to begin with.

“Can you help her?”

His terse question galvanized her into action. He had a sick child in his arms and he had come to her for help. She stepped away from the door. “Come in. How long has the babe been ill? Does she have a fever?”

Shouldering past Anne, he entered the house. “She has been fussy since her mother left her with me four nights ago, but it got worse this morning. No fever, but she throws up everything I’ve given her to drink. Tonight she wouldn’t stop crying. She has a rash now, too.”

The crying was more of a pitiful whimper. “Bring her into my office.”

Anne led the way to a small room off the kitchen where she met with her mothers-to-be for checkups and did well-baby exams on the infants as they grew. She quickly lit a pair of gas lanterns, bathing the space in light. She pulled her midwife kit, a large black leather satchel, off the changing table and said, “Put her down here.”

He did but he kept one hand on the baby in case she rolled over. At least he knew a little about babies. That was something of a surprise, too, in this night of surprises. His worry deepened the creases on his brow. Sympathy for him stirred inside her.

Joseph Lapp was a loner. He was a member of her Amish congregation, but he wasn’t close friends with anyone she knew about. When there was trouble in the community or someone in need, he came and did his part, but he never stayed to socialize, something that was as normal as breathing to most of the Amish she knew. He didn’t shun people. He just seemed to prefer being alone.

They had been neighbors for almost three years and this was the first time he had been inside her home. A big man, he stood six foot two, if not more, with broad shoulders and hammer-like fists. He towered over Anne and made the small room feel even smaller. She took hold of the baby and tried to ignore his overwhelming presence. He took a step back, thrust his hands in his pockets and hunched his shoulders as if he felt the tightness, too.

Anne quickly unwrapped and examined the little girl. The baby was thin and pale with dark hollows around her eyes. She looked like she didn’t feel good. “How old is she?”

“I don’t know for certain.”

This was stranger and stranger. “I would guess three or four months. She’s a little dehydrated and she is clearly in pain.” The baby kept drawing her knees up and whimpering every few minutes. The sides of her snug faded yellow sleeper were damp. It was a good sign. If the baby was wet, that meant she wasn’t seriously dehydrated.

“She needs changing, for one thing. Do you have a clean diaper?” Anne glanced at him.

“At the house, not with me.”

“There are some disposable diapers in the white cabinet on the wall. Bring me one and a box of baby wipes, too.”

He jumped to do as she requested. Anne took off the sleeper that was a size too small as well as the dirty diaper, noting a bright red rash on the baby’s bottom. “Bring me that blue tube of cream, too.”

When Joseph handed her the things she’d asked for, she quickly cleaned the child, applied a thick layer of aloe to the rash and secured a new diaper in place. It didn’t stop the baby’s whimpering as she had hoped. She carefully checked the little girl over, looking for other signs of illness or injury.

Joseph shifted from foot to foot. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?”

Perplexed, Anne shook her head. She didn’t want to jump to a faulty conclusion. “I’m not sure. Her belly is soft. She doesn’t have a fever or any bruising. I don’t see anything other than a mild diaper rash and a baby who clearly doesn’t feel well. I reckon it could be a virus. Is anyone else in the family sick?”

“I’m fine.”

Anne wrapped the baby in her blanket, lifted the child to her shoulder and turned to face Joseph. “What about her mudder?”

“I don’t think so. She wasn’t sick when I saw her last, but I only spoke to her for a few minutes.”

The baby began sucking noisily on her fingers. Anne studied the child as she considered what to do next. A cautious course seemed the best move. “She acts hungry. I have some electrolyte solution I’d like to give her. It’s water with special additives to help children with sick stomachs. Let’s see if she can keep a little of that down. What’s her name?”

“Leah.”

“Hallo, Leah,” Anne crooned to the child and then handed the baby to Joseph. He took her gingerly, clearly unused to holding one so little. The babe looked tiny next to his huge hands.

Why would Leah’s mother leave her baby in the care of a confirmed bachelor like Joseph? It didn’t make sense. There were a lot of questions Anne wanted to ask, but first things first. “I need to see if Leah can keep down some fluids. If she can’t, we’ll have to consider taking her to the nearest hospital.”

That would mean a long buggy ride in the dark. It wasn’t an emergency. An ambulance wasn’t needed. Anne glanced at Joseph to gauge his willingness to undertake such a task. He nodded his consent. “I will do what you think is best.”

He put the baby’s welfare above his own comfort. That was good. Her estimation of his character went up a notch. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’ll put the wet sleeper in a plastic bag for you. It’s too small for her, anyway.”

“It’s the only clothing she has.” He gently rocked the child in his arms.

“Nothing else?”

“Nay, just diapers.”

“She’s been wearing the same sleeper for four days?”

His eyes flashed to Anne’s, a scowl darkening his brow. “I washed it.”

Why wouldn’t Leah’s mother leave him clothes for the child? That was odd and odder yet. A baby could go through a half-dozen changes a day between spitting up and messing their diapers. “I have some baby clothes you can take home with you. I buy them at yard sales and people give them to me so I have some for mothers who can’t afford clothing.” Not all of her mothers were Amish. She had delivered two dozen Englisch babies during her time in Honeysuckle. The clothes had come in handy for several of the poorer women.

Anne pulled open a lower cabinet door and gave Joseph a pink gown from her stash of baby clothes. She put several sleepers and T-shirts in a spare diaper bag for him, too.

He dressed Leah while Anne fixed a few ounces of electrolyte water in a bottle. When it was ready, Anne took Leah from him and settled in a rocker in the corner. He took a seat in a ladder-back chair on the opposite side of the room. He leaned forward and braced his massive arms on his thighs. Even seated, he took up more room than most men. Her office had never felt so cramped.

The baby sucked eagerly, clutching the bottle and holding it while watching Anne with wide blue eyes. Leah belched without spitting up and smiled around the rubber nipple, making Anne giggle. What a cutie she was with her big eyes and wispy blond hair.

Anne stole a glance at Joseph. He had flaxen hair, too, cut in the usual bowl style that Amish men wore. It was straight as wheat straw except for the permanent crease his hat made over his temples. His eyes weren’t blue, though. They were gray. As dark as winter storm clouds. When coupled with his dour expression, they were enough to chill the friendliest overture.

Not that she and Joseph were friendly neighbors. The only time she saw him other than church was when she was chasing after his miserable, escape-happy goats and trying to drive them out of her garden, while he was laughing at her from the other side of the fence. He didn’t laugh out loud, but she had seen the smirk on his face. She thought he secretly enjoyed watching her run after his animals. “How are your goats, Joseph?”

He frowned. “What?”

“Your goats. How are they? They haven’t been in my garden for days.”

A twitch at the corner of his mouth could have been the start of a smile, but she wasn’t sure. “They’re fine. I reckon they got tired of you flapping your apron or your towels at them and decided to stay home for a spell.”

“Or it could be because I fixed the hole in your fence.”

He looked surprised. “Did you? I’m grateful. I’ve been meaning to get to that. How is she doing?”

Anne looked at the quiet baby in her arms and smiled. The scowl on the baby’s face was gone. She blinked owlishly. “She’s trying to stay awake, but her eyelids are growing heavier by the minute. She seems fine right now. All we can do is wait and see if she keeps this down.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “At least she isn’t crying. It near broke my heart to listen to her.”

So he did have a heart, and a tender one, at that. Her estimation of his character went up another notch.

“You said this started this morning. Was there anything different? Do you think she could have put something in her mouth without you seeing it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Has there been a change in her food? Did you make sure and boil the water before mixing her formula?’ Most of the Amish farms had wells. Without testing, it was impossible to tell if the water was safe for an infant to drink. She always advised boiling well water.

“Ja. I followed the directions on the can I bought yesterday. Her mother left me some mixed bottles, but I went through them already. The can of powdered formula in the bag was nearly empty.”

“You bought a new can of formula? Did you get the same brand?” That might account for the upset stomach.

He shrugged. “I think so. Aren’t they all alike?”

“Not really.”

“She hasn’t spit up your fancy water. She seems fine now. Danki.”

Anne gazed tenderly at the babe in her arms. Babies were all so precious. Each and every one was a blessing. Times like this always brought a pang of pain to her heart. She wished her baby had survived. Even though she had been only seventeen and pregnant out of wedlock, she would have loved her little boy with all her heart.

But God had other plans for their lives. He’d called her son home before he had a chance to draw a breath here on earth. She didn’t understand it, but she had to follow the path He laid out even if it didn’t include motherhood.

She refused to feel sorry for herself. She would hold her son in Heaven when her time came. She loved her job as a midwife and she was grateful she could help bring new life into the world and comfort families when things went wrong. Her own tragedy left her well suited to understand a mother’s grief.

Anne stroked the baby’s cheek. “She does seem to be better, but let’s give it an hour or so before we celebrate.”

“One less hour of sleep is fine with me as long as you don’t mind.”

Anne looked up, surprised that he would consider her comfort when he looked as tired and worn out as she felt. She had never seen him looking so worried. “Where is Fannie? Why did she leave Leah with you?”

He was silent for so long that Anne thought he wasn’t going to tell her anything. He stared at his clasped hands and finally spoke. “Fannie brought the baby to me four days ago. She said she had to have surgery and couldn’t keep the child with her in the hospital. She asked me to watch her for a few days.”

“What about the baby’s father? Why couldn’t he watch the child?”

“He had to get to New York for a job interview.”

“Which hospital is she in?”

“She didn’t say. She’ll be back soon. Probably this morning.”

“It seems strange that she didn’t tell you which hospital she was going to. Did she leave a phone number or a way to contact her?”

He rose to his feet. “I should go. It’s not right that I’m here alone with you. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight. If the bishop hears of this, it could mean trouble for you. You have your reputation to protect.”

“I’m sure Bishop Andy would understand. You were only thinking of the baby.”

Speaking of the bishop reminded Anne of her regretful behavior toward Joseph. “I want to beg your forgiveness for my grave lapse in manners the other day. I’ve never done anything like that before. I’m humiliated and so very sorry that I acted as I did. You would be within your rights to report me to the church elders for discipline.”

“It’s forgiven. The babe seems fine now. Danki. I should go home.” He reached for the baby, and Anne let him take her.

“Feed her the electrolyte water if she wakes up hungry again tonight. Tomorrow you can mix a little formula with it. One part milk to three parts water. If she tolerates that, mix it half and half for the next feeding.”

“I understand. Guten nacht, Anne. You’ve been a great help. I appreciate the loan of the clothes, too.”

“Tell Fannie she can keep them if she wants. Good night, Joseph,” Anne called after him, but he was already out the door.

Was he that concerned about her reputation or was he reluctant to answer any more questions about his sister? At least he had forgiven her for striking him. That was a relief. Shaking her head over the whole thing, Anne put out the lights and climbed the stairs to bed for what was left of her night.

Waking at her usual time, Anne fixed a pot of strong coffee and made her plans for the day. She didn’t have any mother’s visits scheduled, so her whole day could be devoted to getting her pumpkins up to her roadside stand. After two cups and some toast, she was ready to get to work.

Outside, she took her old wheelbarrow out to her patch and began loading it with ripe pumpkins. Her white ones and the traditional orange carving pumpkins were her bestsellers, but she did have a number of cooking pumpkins ready to be picked. She added three of them to the top of the heap in her wheelbarrow for her own use. Having planted a new cooking variety, she was anxious to see if they were as good as her tried-and-true heirloom ones.

A crooked front wheel made pushing the wheelbarrow a chore, but getting it fixed would have to wait. If she came out ahead on her produce stand this fall, she was definitely investing in a new pushcart. Leaving the barrow at the front steps, she carried her cooking pumpkins in and put them in the sink to be washed. She stood contemplating another cup of coffee when she heard someone shouting her name.

She opened the front door. Joseph came sprinting toward her with Leah in his arms.

Chapter Three

“Joseph, what’s wrong?” Anne held the door wide for him.

He rushed inside looking frazzled and more exhausted than the last time she had seen him. “I did as you told me. She was fine the rest of the night. When I gave her some of the formula this morning, she threw up again and her face got all blotchy. Now she won’t stop crying.”

Anne could see that for herself. Joseph’s blue shirt had a large wet streak down the front. The unmistakable odor of sour milk emanated from him. Leah continued to wail. It was hard to tell if she was red in the face from crying or from something else. Anne began to suspect the child had an intolerance to milk.

She took the baby from him, sat down in a kitchen chair and unwrapped the blanket Leah was swaddled in. The baby was wearing the long pink gown that Anne had given Joe last night. She untied the ribbon from around the hem and pulled up the material, exposing Leah’s kicking legs and belly and more red blotches. Anne had seen this kind of reaction before and was almost sure she was right. “I think she may have an allergy to the formula.”

He shook his head. “I checked the can her mother gave me. It’s the same brand I got for her. How can a baby be allergic to milk?”

“Some babies just are.” It was possible the rash was from something else, but it seemed too coincidental that it appeared immediately after she’d had the formula. Anne needed more information.

Joseph ran a hand through his hair. “She can’t live on water.”

“Nay, she can’t.” Anne pulled the gown down and wrapped the blanket loosely around her. Lifting the baby to her shoulder, she patted the fussy child’s back until she quieted.

“Then what do I feed her?” Joseph sounded like a man at the end of his rope. Looking as if he hadn’t slept a wink, he raked a hand through his disheveled hair again. He hadn’t bothered putting on his hat. If Anne needed proof of how upset he was, she had it. Joseph never left his house without his straw hat unless it was to wear his black felt hat to Sunday services.

She shifted the baby to the crook of her arm. “You may need to switch her to a soy formula. I need to know what brand you gave her. It could be that you just need a different kind of milk.”

“I’ll get it.” He rushed out of the house, leaped off the porch without touching the steps and sprinted toward his home a few hundred yards to the south. Anne watched as he vaulted the fence at the edge of his property instead of using the gate and kept running. She didn’t know a man his size could move so fast.

She struggled not to laugh as she gazed at Leah. “You’re certainly showing me a different side of my neighbor. Do be kinder to the poor man. I think he’s having a hard time adjusting to you.”

It was clear that Joseph was deeply concerned about his niece and determined to do whatever it took to help her. Anne watched him rush into his house and wondered what else she would learn about Joseph Lapp while he cared for his niece.

Did his sister have any idea how much she had disrupted her brother’s life? Anne didn’t know Fannie, but she found it hard to picture anyone leaving a baby with Joseph, even for a few days. Still, his sister would know him better than Anne did. She’d seen him bottle-feeding young goats in his pen. Maybe he knew more about infants than she gave him credit for knowing.

Leah buried her face against Anne’s chest and began rubbing it back and forth. She whimpered and then started crying again, pulling Anne’s attention away from her thoughts of Joseph.

Anne stroked the baby’s head. “You poor little thing. That rash itches, doesn’t it? I have something I think will help.”

* * *

Joseph came sprinting into Anne’s house and skidded to a stop on her black-and-white-patterned linoleum. The baby had stopped screaming. Leah sat naked, splashing and giggling in a basin of water in the center of the kitchen table. Anne cooed to the child as she supported her and poured a cupful of the liquid over her slick little body. Leah wagged her arms up and down in delight.

He took a couple of gasping breaths and held out the cans. “This is what I gave her and this is what her mother left me.”

“Just set them on the table.” Anne didn’t even look at him. She was grinning foolishly at the baby and making silly noises. Leah seemed mesmerized by Anne’s mouth and the sounds she was making.

He put the new formula on the tabletop along with the empty can he’d pulled from the trash. Thankfully, he’d been too busy to burn his barrel yesterday. He dropped onto a chair as he waited for his racing heart to slow. It seemed his mad dash was for nothing. Both Anne and Leah were enjoying the bathing process. He soon noticed the communication they seemed to share.

Leah was attempting to mimic the shape of Anne’s mouth. When Anne opened her mouth wide, Leah did, too. When Anne pursed her lips together, Leah tried to imitate her. Although the baby couldn’t produce the sounds Anne was making, it was clear she was trying to do so. She flapped her arms in excitement.

After a few minutes, Joseph realized he was staring at Anne’s mouth, too. She had full red lips that tilted up slightly at the corners in a perpetual sweet smile. He liked her smile. He hadn’t paid much attention to her in the past but now he noticed her sable-brown hair glinted with gold highlights where it wasn’t covered by her white kapp. It was thick and healthy looking.

She was a little woman. The top of her head wouldn’t reach his chin even if she stood on tiptoe. Apple-cheeked and just a shade on the plump side, she had a cute button nose generously sprinkled with ginger freckles and wide owlish gray-green eyes. She wasn’t a beauty, but she had a sweet face. Why hadn’t he noticed that about her before? Maybe because he usually saw her when she was running after his goats, when she was furious.

He’d been leery when a single woman moved into the small house next to his. It had been an Englisch house before Anne bought it. It took her a while to convert it to meet their Amish rules, but the bishop had been tolerant of her progress because she was single.

She hadn’t set her sights on Joseph the way some of the single women in the community had over the years. He wasn’t the marrying kind. Apparently, Anne wasn’t the marrying kind, either. She had to be close to thirty, if not older. He’d never seen her walking out with any of the unwed men in their Plain community. The only fellow he’d seen hanging around her had been Micah Shetler. He was known as something of a flirt, but she’d never shown any interest in return and Micah had soon stopped coming around.

Anne minded her own business and let Joseph mind his. If it wasn’t for the traffic her produce stand brought in and her dislike of his goats, he would have said she was the perfect neighbor. She was proving to be a godsend today. He pulled his gaze away from her and concentrated on Leah. The baby looked happier than he’d seen her since she arrived. “She seems to be enjoying her bath.”

“I put some baking soda in the water to soothe her itching skin. It will help for a little while. Grab that towel for me, would you, please?” Anne lifted the baby from the water. Joseph jumped up and held the towel wide. He wrapped it around the baby when Anne handed her to him.

“Should I bathe her this way?” How much baking soda? How often? He didn’t want to show his ignorance, so he didn’t ask.

“If her rash doesn’t go away, you can. We need to find out what is causing the rash in the first place. I’m pretty sure she has an allergy to something.”

When he had the baby securely in his arms, Anne picked up the two formula cans. “This is odd.”

“Did I buy the wrong thing?”

“Nay, it’s nothing you did. This is soy formula. It’s often used for babies that are sensitive to cow’s milk–based formulas. I wish I could ask Fannie why Leah is on it. Was it her first choice, or did the baby have trouble with regular formula and so she switched her to soy? It’s puzzling.”

“What difference would it make?” He laid the baby and towel on the table and began drying her. She tried to stuff the fingers of both hands in her mouth.

“If Leah had trouble tolerating regular formula, there isn’t any point in giving her what I have on hand. Do you or Fannie have a milk allergy?”

“Not that I know of.”

Anne stepped up and took over the task of drying and dressing Leah. He happily stood aside.

Leah quickly became dissatisfied with her fingers and started fussing again. He glanced at Leah. “Have you more of that special water?”

“I do, but I think I want to try something else. Do you have any fresh goat’s milk?”

“Nay, the truck collected my milk yesterday evening. I haven’t milked yet this morning. Are you planning to give her goat’s milk?”

“It won’t hurt to try it.”

He had heard of babies being raised on goat’s milk, but he wouldn’t have thought of it. “I can bring you some fresh as soon as I catch a goat. How much do you need?”

“A quart to start with. I’ll have to cook it first. I don’t want to give her raw milk.”

He bristled at her insult. He ran a first-class dairy. “My goats have all been tested for disease and are healthy. I have a permit to sell raw milk and my operation is inspected regularly. I drank raw goat’s milk when I was growing up and it didn’t hurt me.”