Chapter Twenty-One
Late July… 1679
The child was born two hours after dawn the following morning. He was small and underweight but healthy according to Philippa Pritchett who, with Emma, delivered the child into the world.
Philippa wrapped the baby in layers of soft wool and laid him in Rebekah’s arms. “A right good size he is, considering he arrived a full month before time. A handsome lad to be sure.”
John came close and peered down at the newborn. “Hello, little one.” He greeted his child for the first time. “What shall we call him, dearest?”
Rebekah, exhausted, held the child close. She gazed in wonder at his tiny head and tightly curled fists. “We should call him Ezra, after your father, and I would like him to carry my father’s name, Edmond if you agree.”
“Ezra Edmund Howland,” John repeated. “I like the sound of that.” He repeated the name. “A solid name for such a little one,” he smiled, considering the moniker. “It has a weight about it. I think the name fits, Bekah.”
He reached for the child’s tiny fist. “He is a handsome boy for certain.” The baby made gurgling noises and moved his tiny head as if in agreement.
“Then it’s settled. Ezra Edmund Howland you will be.” John kissed his son and then Rebekah’s forehead. He studied his wife. Her face was pale and there were dark circles under her eyes. “You must be near to exhausted, dearest.”
“Rebekah nodded, “More than I could imagine… I never realized … It is one thing to help deliver a child for another… it is a far different event to bear the child yourself.”
She looked up and caught Philippa’s eye. “You have birthed over three children yourself, Philippa. I never truly understood…”
The midwife smiled. “No one ever does. There is nothing so great a learning for a midwife as having a child yourself. You will have a new respect for the women you urge to push so hard for so long.”
Rebekah had to smile. “I thought I understood…” She looked down at the baby in her arms. Her voice was not more than a whisper. “He truly is beautiful, John. A beautiful baby…” She struggled to stay awake but exhaustion took over.
Philippa took the child from Rebekah’s arms and handed the boy to his father.
“As your wife is in need of a bit of rest after her ordeal, it is time you take charge.”
John hesitated. “I do not know how,” he whispered.
Philippa placed the child into his arms. “You will learn quickly enough.”
As he gently held the baby for the first time, John could feel the tiny heart beating. “What do I do now?” he asked Philippa.
“Hold him close as he sleeps and rest a bit while you can. When the babe is hungry, trust me, he will let you know. We should let Rebekah sleep until then. In the meantime, Emma and I will clean about a bit and make the cottage ready, for guests are sure to be visiting soon. Your son’s cries have seen to that.”
John did as he was told. He took his seat on the small bench next to Rebekah’s bed and wrapped his arms around the babe. He held his son secure, listening for his hunger cry. Within a few minutes, both father and son were asleep.
It was only when William Pritchett opened the front door declaring what a beautiful day it was and they should all be out and about and not waste the sunshine, did all three Howlands awake. The babe began to cry.
Philippa had entered the cottage just behind her husband and immediately went to Rebekah’s bedside. John, now fully awake and unsure what to do next, handed the baby to Philippa. “What can I do?”
“No puzzle here as to what the babe is wanting.” The midwife smiled at Rebekah and carefully placed the child into his mother’s embrace. She watched with satisfaction as the baby found Rebekah’s breast.
“No worries with this one,” Philippa declared to John. “He surely knows what he wants.”
The remainder of the day was a flurry of activity. Neighbors arrived bringing food and drink as a way to celebrate. Rebekah remained in bed for the day as John acted as host to the farmers, their wives, and children who came out of curiosity to see the newborn for themselves.
Very nice writing.
Only comments: Maybe John says something endearing to the baby before asking what they should name him. Like “hello little feller”.
Maybe… actually I was thinking of having him give the child a nickname… both he and the child are named “John” so need to build in some form of distinction…
I added a little more to that paragraph… now reads:
John came close and peered down at the newborn. “Hello, little one.” He greeted his child for the first time. “What shall we call him, dearest?” Rebekah, exhausted, held the child close. She gazed in wonder at his tiny head and tightly curled fists. “We should call him Jason, after your brother, and I would like him to carry my father’s name, Edmond if you agree.”
really liked the writing, Pat, but I would agree that John should acknowledge the baby…if he doesn’t say anything, than just rub his cheek for hair as he “peers down at the newborn:…and maybe say “his newborn child…something to begin the connection to the father…regardless of that small thing…I really liked it!
Good suggestion… added a few lines… that paragraph now reads:
John came close and peered down at the newborn. “Hello, little one.” He greeted his child for the first time. “What shall we call him, dearest?” Rebekah, exhausted, held the child close. She gazed in wonder at his tiny head and tightly curled fists. “We should call him Jason, after your brother, and I would like him to carry my father’s name, Edmond if you agree.”