The nap helped a lot. Making it to SunHeight and celebrating helped even more to restore her balance and mood. She had a good luncheon, and after that went back to the midwives. Hamara was there and hadn't gone out, so she and Alandra worked to fold and iron and wrap packages of necessary linens. They always took a couple of aprons against the mess of delivery, plus a clean one for later, and a stack of towels, which were endlessly useful. To a kit basket Alandra added vials of herbs that would speed the delivery, and poultices and a stitching kit for tears, and, much to her surprise, a Mana potion, which, when she checked, would restore about half her capacity, but about most Healers' usual. But it made sense when she thought about it. She'd helped with surgeries where they needed all the healing they could get to control bleeding and fix the problems. If they were dealing with a bad problem, that gave them extra Healing to deal with it. She nodded. Good idea.
Having made sure all the current baskets were repacked, she and Hamara sat and got out their handwork. Hamara was knitting a shawl, which she said would go to Mercy's Garden when done, to comfort someone. Alandra was hooking lace. She'd seen Ninda doing it, and she had taught her how to do it. The hooked lace was pretty, and it was tougher than thread lace, so it could be boil-washed with a shift and run through the mangle and come out just fine. The single hook was small and it and the ball of heavy thread were very portable. She kept it here on a hook in the midwifery area, so that it was handy.
“Oh, it sometimes gets absolutely ridiculous,” Hamara said, laughing. “I was at one last week, and the girl was in the middle of labor, and when her mother told her to breathe deeply through the pains, snapped at her that “You don't know what it's like!””
Both of them laughed so hard they lost count of their stitches.
“But mostly they are like the one last night?” Alandra said.
“Every birth is slightly different, but yes,” Hamara said. “Women have been having babies for a long, long time. We're here to make sure it goes smoothly, and that neither the mother or her baby die unnecessarily.Also, there are some things we can fix. If the parents are willing, we can fix a hairlip, or a wine-stain mark. And sometimes, if the heart isn't quite right or the lungs a little undeveloped, we can help that too. Every time you are handed a baby, it's well to just scan it and see if anything is going on. They can't tell us, so it's up to us to figure it out.”
“I've handled small children in the Court,” Alandra said, nodding. “And even sometimes adults come in and don't know what's wrong, but something just is.”
“True enough,” said Hamara.
The other midwives came back. Some had gone to see women who would go into labor soon, to make sure all was in order with them. One small woman who had rickets was asked to stay at the Healing Court until her baby came.
“She needs the canes to walk because her bones are bowed and twisted,” Hamara said quietly as they watched the woman walk across the courtyard, her smile like sunshine. “Her pelvis, and the opening of it, are also bowed and twisted. She lost her first one and nearly bled to death. This time she will have it here, and we may need to take it out surgically.”
“I've never seen that done!” Alandra said.
“It's not usually needed,” Hamara said. “If the pelvis just won't pass the child, of course, but also if the child is lying wrong and you can't get it to turn. Especially a transverse lie.”
Alandra nodded. “Breeches are doable but a little more...difficult. But there's no way to come out if it's stubbornly horizontal.”
“Exactly,” said Hamara. “And sometimes labor just sticks, and you can feel that it's hard on the baby and on the mother. In that case, it's safer for both to cut and get it over with.”
Alandra, and the other healing Novices, watched with fascination as the woman was cut open, and her healthy daughter extracted without trouble. They healed the slash of muscles and skin as they went, and left the cushion to deliver normally, which it did.
“I don't ever want to do it,” Alandra said, afterwards, “But I could if I had to.”
Over those six months, Alandra and Hamara became a smooth team. They were good at anticipating each other's needs and wants, and Hamara said that she appreciated that Alandra was cool under pressure and didn't faint at the sight of blood.
“Oh, I think the Gods have something to do with that,” laughed Alandra. “I wasn't nearly so calm about blood before I was Chosen.”
“Well, it makes sense,” Hamara said. “Healers have to deal with blood, ‘cause both coming and going from this world are a messy business.”
Five months in, they attended a labor that was very difficult.
The baby did not cry as she gently cradled him as he slid out of the womb. That was not unusual; some babies did not. As was their usual practice, Alandra stepped back, letting Hamara cut the cord; then Alandra would clean and wrap the infant while Hamara dealt with the cushion.
“Is it a girl or a boy?” the mother asked, panting and crying with relief from her labor.
Alandra looked down at the infant and felt her heart breaking. Oh, no. She knew that not all children are born perfect, but the Gods had a life for them all the same. Many people were simple and got along just fine. But this...the head was wrong. Instead of the smooth heavy curve that she was used to supporting, there was much, much less, as if there wasn't a brain in the skull, and the face was....wrong. The eyes were closely set, with a single nostril below them, and a harelip. Alandra laid a hand on the baby's chest and looked within, and saw the heart was not properly formed, and the kidneys damaged.
She looked over at Hamara, who sensed her gaze and looked up at her, and turned the child so Hamara could see. Shock and sorrow spread over Hamara's face too. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then looked Alandra in the eye.
“Give it mercy,” she mouthed. She turned to the mother.
“I am so sorry, your daughter is in the hands of the Goddess. She....she could not live.”
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The woman wailed in grief.
Alandra took a deep breath. She was thirteen! Who was she to do this? She looked at the child again, It gasped, but was still blue. It would not live with the heart as it was. And was there even enough brain left for it to live? Mercy was the right word. She bowed her head in prayer for a moment, then laid her hand on its chest and stopped its heart.
She washed the little body and wrapped it in the linen bands and wraps, not in the usual swaddle, but shrouding it. They changed the sheets, and then the mother asked to hold the baby. She looked at the shrouding.
“Oh, my poor dear....” she said.
“Her face was not....”
The mother nodded once. “Thank you. I....don't know what to do now.”
“Now,” said the midwife, “You may hold her as long as you like. I will give you a potion to stop your milk. And I will carry your daughter to the Temple, and give her to the gods, when you are ready.”
“Can you call my husband home?”
“Where is he?”
“At his brother's house, three streets over beside the Green Cat,” said the woman.
Alandra looked over at the midwife. “Go fast and cautious,” said the midwife. She knew that Alandra was trained enough to get out of the grab of a drunken man.
Alandra found the house without trouble, and returned with the husband. He leaned against the wall of the house outside and wept when she told him that the child had been born dead. Then, he took a deep breath and said “Karina needs me now.”
“It's not your fault, or hers. Give her the time she needs to heal, and treat her with love,” Alandra said. She could feel that he was basically a good man who wanted to do the right thing.
As the Sun rose, they walked back to the Temple, accompanied by the Ffather, carrying the small bundle that was his daughter. “I can do this, at least, for her,” he said.
Together, the three of them said the prayers for the dead in the garden, and then laid the child down on the rock at the center.
The Fire Mage was a man in his middle years, and he clasped the father's hand and hugged him before he turned and laid his own hand over the bundle on the rock. The fire he conjured burned white hot, and it did not take long before he lowered his hand and let it die out to nothing but ashes. The Fire Mage tenderly brushed these into a small box.
“May you be blessed with new life from the ashes,” he said, and the man nodded, placing the box into his scrip.
“Is it all right if I stay here and pray?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” said Hamara. “Do you want someone to stay, or....”
He shook his head mutely, and they walked away. They had their bags to repack, and wanted to change and wash up themselves.
“Oh, you poor dear, I just heard!” said Borara, one of the older midwives in the group. She bustled over to where Amara was sorting out the kit for repacking, and gave Alandra a hug from behind. “I know it's so hard when you have a mercy case like that. Do you need to go sit in the Temple a bit?”
Alandra was taken aback. Not that she disliked sitting in the Temple--it was one of her favorite places--but she needed to repack the bags so they would be ready when they were needed. And taking a nap would be very nice. They'd been up most of the night.
“I'm fine, sister. Was there something you needed?”
“Oh, I don't need anything, dear, you're so sweet to think of others at a time like this!”
“Oh, you found her!” said Gelita, concern on her face. She pushed a lock of dark hair back under her cap. “I am so glad. You shouldn't be alone after that. It's such a terrible thing.”
Alandra was very confused.
”I....need to repack the kit,” she said.
“Oh, here, let me do that,” said Gelita. “You've been through so much today.”
“Actually,” Alandra said, “I'm much too tired to feel anything. We were up all night.”
“Well, then you just go have a rest,” said Borara, “And when you get up, don't hestitate to come and find us. We all know how hard it is to have to give mercy.”
Alandra went back to her cell and lay down on the bed, pushing off exhaustion for a moment to think. What in the name of the Gods was going on? Was she....supposed to be heartbroken? Devastated? Because she wasn't. It was a sad thing, of course, but she had wrapped the body with compassion, watched as it was burned, and prayed with the father and mother both. It wasn't her child. There were other babies to deliver, and other people to help. Mostly she was just monstrously tired from being up all night.
She didn't know. Maybe it would make more sense when she woke up. She rolled onto her side and let sleep roll over her.
When she awoke, she saw by the angle of the Sun in the corridor thatit was after the Noon prayers. Midwives had a special arrangement; they slept when they needed to, for babies did not come on schedule, and were excused services as needed. Alandra would make SunDown service, since she was off call now. And she would have a good dinner. She walked over to the outer kitchen area to get a bun from the stack they kept for the Novices. She was rather hungry now.
She walked out into the central garden to eat her bun, and to find a spot to work through the Open Hand just to stretch and wake her body up.
As she finished, she saw Namala walking in and sitting down, and was very glad. She needed to talk to her.
“I'm just not sure.....am I wrong? They were certainly ready to support me in my grief, except...I don't have any.”
Namara listened as Amara tried to talk about the disconnect she was feeling.
“You know, dear girl,” Namara finally said, “Your call is to be a Battle Healer, eventually. I don't think the gods would call you to that path and make giving mercy more painful to you than it needs to be.”
Alandra thought about that for a long moment. It was clearly a new idea.
“That doesn't make me....wrong?”
“Well, we knew you aren't destined to be a midwife,” Namara said with a laugh, “But we all do six months on the rotation. It's part of life;we need to know how to do it because you never know when you might need to know how, as a Healer.”
“True,” Alandra said, thinking. “So I'm not wrong. I'm just not a midwife born, and so I don't feel it as deeply as they do.”
“I think that's a good way to think about it,” Namara said. “You are becoming more and more fit for your path every day.”
“It does help to know the eventual goal,” said Alandra. “And who knows, I may be off adventuring in a village and need to help with a baby.”
“Absolutely,” Namara said.
Alandra nodded. “Thank you. That helped a lot. And I think my lead, Hamara?”--Namara nodded, recognizing the name.--“she didn't say anything about it, not like the others. So maybe she will just....let it go.”
“I hope so. And anyway, you're at the bottom of the list now.”
“I should check,” Alandra said. “You never know with babies. There's seven others, but....”
“You never know,” Namara said, giving her a hug round the shoulders. “I get it.”
The six months finally ended, and Alandra was sorry to say goodbye to the midwives, She liked all of them, and considered Hamara a friend. But, well, to be totally honest? It wasn't where she wanted to be.
Hamara, at least, understood. “Not everyone's called to be a midwife, but I can say unhesitatingly that if you had that call, you would have the skill.”
“Oh, thank you!” Alandra said, hugging her. “I'm glad I did it.I learned a lot, and I just feel....well, competent, now.”
“They'll probably assign you to general work in the Healing Court, cause you know what you're doing,”
“No matter what comes up, and if I don't, I can ask for help,” Alandra said, agreeing.
