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Ruth had been having back pains since before climbing into the hansom at the manor that the Blackwoods lived in. She understood why soon enough when the labor pains began. Shit! She slammed her hand on the roof and the driver slowed to a stop, then stepped down to open up the door. One look at her and his question died on his lips. He knew she was in pain, his wife had looked the same when she was about to give birth. "Oh, shite, miss. We 'ave ta get ye to a doctor."
The man hopped back into place and the hansom jolted and moved faster. The ride seemed like it took longer than it should have but the man eventually pulled up in front of a building that definitely wasn't her parents' home, and he lept to the ground and opened the door again, "Come on, Miss, that's it... Take me hand, I'll 'elp ye. Nice and easy." He even put his arm around her to help her walk when she nearly doubled over with the intensity of the next contractions.
He slowly ushered her to the door and rapped on it. As they stood there, a splash hit the stoop. Her water had broken.
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02-23-2021, 04:53 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-23-2021, 04:54 PM by Tristan Wells.)
It was a quiet day, and so Tristan sat in his office reading something on the relationship between hysteria and delusion when he heard the rapping. He stood up, hurried over to the waiting room and opened the door. He didn't have to watch for long to realize what was going on. "Come in. My office is in the back, straight ahead," he told the coachman, and assuming they made their way to the office, he followed. "Here, help her on to the sofa." It was already covered with cloth that could be washed. "Did your waters break just now, ma'm?"
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She was lifted up by the coachman, for walking wasn't happening right then. When she was placed on the couch and the doctor asked her a question, her face scrunched up in pain and she gave a nod. "Aye, I think so." At least it was outside and not inside.
"I'll set 'er bags inside," said the coachman before disappearing without another word. He was all gruff and awkward.
When the contraction passed, she sighed. Maybe this was why women as pregnant as she weren't supposed to travel so much. "I got caught in the rain last night, I was tryin' to get home to me ma and pa. Me husband... he left me like this," she gestured to her belly and started to cry. It was clear she was frightened as any mother to be would be.
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Tristan nodded at the coachman and then turned back to the young woman. "Try not to worry about that for now." Though the rain bit had him a little worried. He walked over to a cupboard and began taking out clean cloths, scissors, a disinfectant and other tools. "How far along are you, ma'm?" he asked. She looked like she was bursting, but he had to know what to expect.
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"I reckon about..." she paused and had to think about it. "Nine months. Give or take a week or two." And she'd had no choice but to travel home from Scotland where she and her husband had eloped. She wondered if that was the cause of her labor, or if it was just the fact that she had yet to meet her parents again.
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"That's good," said Tristan, and he walked back over, placing the items on a table nearby. "How long have you had contractions?"
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"I think they started early this morn, me back started to hurt too." She sighed. Her eyes closed. She was so tired already, doing a woman's work. Or maybe it was just because everything was happening so quickly that her head spun with the intensity of it all. Her lips compressed into a line and she forced her eyes to stay open.
In the meantime, her bags were placed inside the house and the driver left to do his job.
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Tristan nodded. "I'm going to have to feel if the baby is in the right position." And he put his hands on her belly.
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Lucky for her, the babe was most certainly in the right position for birthing. It was a difficult birth, however, as the baby was a bit big. It took almost a full day for the boy to show himself to the world... A hefty little fellow with a mop of brown curls on his head. The infant cried lustily while she lay prone, pale and shaking with fatigue. Even still, she reached out for the little one. Assuming Tristan gave the babe to her, she held the squirmy bundle to her and immediately fell in love. There were no words from her, for she was too exhausted to speak, ashen. Somehow, the strength of a new mother made it possible for her to simply place a kiss on his downy brow.
She could no longer keep her eyes open. Ruth fell into a deep sleep...
She awoke with a start about three hours later. She blinked her eyes several times and then weakly pushed herself up. "Where is he? Is he alright?"
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Tristan sat in the corner of the room with a newborn on his chest. It had all been a bit unusual. He had not yet had any woman give birth in his practice. Most of the working classes didn't get a doctor at all and relied on experienced women in their own circles to assist. Women who could afford a doctor gave birth at home, though Tristan hadn't been called to assist at any birth yet.
Once the young woman had given birth and had fallen asleep, Tristan had had to make do with what he had available here. He had checked her heartrate and blood pressure while he slept, had disinfected her, and had then found a blanket to put over her. He measured and weighed the child. A big boy indeed, heavier than usual. That was a good sign. Then, for lack of clothes, he had swaddled the infant in clean linens, and had kept the child close to his body to keep him warm and asleep and give the exhausted mother a break. He kind of liked the feeling of the sleeping infant in his arms.
Nevertheless, after a while the child started stirring, and Tristan remembered the healthy pair of lungs he had heard seconds after the boy was born. Luckily, as if by instinct, the mother woke even before the child cried. Tristan smiled and stood up. "Right here. He's a healthy boy. If he drinks well, all should be well," he said while walking over to her. He handed her the child.
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