Chapter Thirty-Seven Gertrude
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Gertrude
Two hours after the Oceanus was torpedoed
The lifeboat rocked back and forth, farther away from the ship, which now listed badly to the left. In total, ten lifeboats had launched, and from what I’d heard from those on our boat, over a hundred people had survived the attack.
My belly squeezed again tightly, and I could barely breathe as the pain rocketed through my body. Mrs. DuPont had given me her hand, and I squeezed it with all my strength.
“That’s thirty seconds,” Mrs. DuPont said, checking the slim watch on her wrist. “Has your water broken?”
My skirts were wet, but I’d thought it was from the ocean water that had washed over the side of the lifeboat when we’d crested a wave.
“I can’t tell,” I said.
“I know, dear, we’re all wet.” She lifted her head and looked around, scanning the other boats. “Everyone in this boat, I want you to have a sharp eye out for that doctor. We’re going to need him.”
Several of the ladies rose and scanned the rolling seas. As soon as one boat appeared, it dipped quickly behind a wave, giving no one time to scan the occupants.
Finally, one young woman pointed. “I see him over there! His boat is about a hundred yards from us.”
Mrs. DuPont stood up. Her gaze followed the girl’s outstretched arm and pointed finger. Several times the shifting boat nearly sent her toppling forward, but she was stronger than she’d appeared and braced her legs against a woman sitting behind her.
She removed a red handkerchief from her pocket and began to wave it. “Hello!”
The other women began waving their arms and shouting Dr. Brooks’s name.
Several other ladies grabbed anything with color and began waving these items as well.
The ocean’s roar made it hard to hear, but finally the gestures and sounds caught someone’s attention in his boat.
I wasn’t sure if Dr. Brooks noticed us, until the boat motored toward us.
I also wasn’t sure how long it took for them to join our vessel, but by the time they did, my need to push was overwhelming.
I’d attended the birth of a neighbor’s daughter with my mother.
She didn’t have a doctor, but my mother had been so calm.
The midwife was on her way, but the baby refused to wait.
Mother and the housekeeper had delivered the infant while I watched.
I’d thought I’d understood the mother-to-be’s plight, but I’d had no idea.
All the good-wishing and soothing were blocked by agony.
So many times, Alfred had spoken of the moment we would welcome our child into the world.
Greta for a girl. Roland for a boy. But each time he’d mentioned a child, I’d stiffen with terror.
The first time I was pregnant, I was terrified.
And then the child had slipped away. I’d sworn I’d never get pregnant again and bring a baby into the prison of my marriage. And now I was doing just that.
Boats bumped against each other, and ours tipped slightly as one of the ladies left and a man arrived.
I looked up and saw Dr. Brooks’s face looming over mine.
His expression was relieved and curious.
Sigrid had been beside him and climbed onto the boat and took a seat. Her sharp blue eyes lingered on me.
“Thank heavens you made it, Dr. Brooks,” Mrs. DuPont said. “I’ve never delivered a baby.”
I tried to push up and move away from him, but the movement nearly split me in two.
“Steady, Frau Werner,” Dr. Brooks said. “Now’s not the time for moving. We must deliver this baby now, okay?”
I stared into his eyes and then looked at Sigrid. I couldn’t decide if I was more afraid of them now or of giving birth. “I can’t have this baby now.”
“You have no choice,” he said. “Ladies, I need blankets or coats.”
One woman with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders draped it over my legs. Another reached for the first aid box each lifeboat was equipped with and handed it to Dr. Brooks.
Dr. Brooks laid his hands on my legs. “You must raise your knees, and your undergarments must be removed.”
The idea of him touching me now in such a way reminded me of Alfred.
“That’s a lady’s job,” Mrs. DuPont said. She shouldered him aside. She arranged the wool blanket over my midsection and legs before she reached up under my skirt for the knit undergarments. “Lift up a little, my dear.”
Gritting my teeth, I lifted my bottom, and she slid off my thick cotton underwear. Another contraction racked my body with such intensity I lost my breath. “It’s coming.”
Mrs. DuPont sat behind me and helped me sit up.
Another lady held up another blanket so my body would be shielded from everyone else’s view.
I couldn’t look at Dr. Brooks. I closed my eyes and imagined Alfred at my side, staring at me with those intense gray eyes that always searched for flaws and reasons to punish.
A contraction overwhelmed my body, and I pushed hard this time. A scream escaped past my gritted teeth.
Push harder. I could hear Alfred’s voice as clear as day. I want my son.
My body tightened, resisting the baby’s release. I felt as if I were being torn in two. I didn’t want to see the baby I was certain I couldn’t love or condemn to life with his father.
“Don’t fight it,” Mrs. DuPont said. “Let the babe come. He needs to take that first breath.”
But there should be no babe. My body should never have held on to this one.
I’d been traveling for seven months, hiding in ports, avoiding police and the army, and going without food.
My body should’ve let him go. But he’d held on tight, refusing to let go.
Was his presence a miracle or a curse for us both?
Give me my son, Alfred whispered.
The lifeboat rolled and pitched over a wave. Sea spray misted my face, now damp with sweat and exertion.
He’s a child of the ocean, the water whispered back. Alfred will never have him.
The ocean’s whispered words felt like a gentle brush against my forehead. The lifeboat rolled over a tall wave and then crashed down. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I looked up toward the cloudy sky.
“You’re safe,” Dr. Brooks said.
I looked past him to Sigrid, who watched me closely.
“I am not. I am not.”