Carla sat despondently in the room now labelled as her bedchamber, staring out of the window at the snow-filled scene before her. She and Samuel had been married a little over a week now, and she could not bring herself to feel anything but sadness. Her child was due any day now and all she could think about was leaving, escaping the disaster she herself had created. As soon as the child was born and she’d healed, Carla was leaving and she was going to escape far, far away. She wasn’t sure how she was going to do that, but anything was better than being married again, and with a child whose future was precarious. The child would be better off left behind and raised as Samuel’s. Her presence would only burden the child with her ruin.

Word had spread that Carla had been evicted from her home, but nobody was quite sure why. The rumours were actually worse than the truth but she could refute none of them. Samuel had quickly taken Carla in and had insisted they marry within days of her flight to his home. She had agreed, but only in the hopes that this would obligate him to her child. She also knew that if she would not marry him, she could not stay in his home. Carla had wed Samuel but they had yet to consummate the marriage. She pled the burden of being with child and Samuel, dear sweet Samuel, had not pressured her about it.

Samuel really was sweet and seemed to truly love Carla. He bought her new clothes, provided her with all she needed, and was always around, hoping to make Carla comfortable. He made no demands of her and left her when she grew antsy; knowing his presence sometimes agitated her. Samuel was happy knowing that Carla was there and finally his bride. He thought he had a lifetime to help her fall in love with him, and knew he could break down the barriers that had surrounded the woman’s heart after all she had been through, if she would only give him a chance.

Carla, however, could not allow herself to soften towards Samuel. She knew that she had been the one who had made a bad decision, that it was her own fault she was now trapped in another marriage, and knew this was what she deserved. She’d had an affair, she’d planned to pass off another man’s child as her husband’s and knew she had to pay the price. But she could not face that future. She felt like a slave, bought and sold, plotted for and captured, and could not work up enough enthusiasm now to pretend a lie she’d lived for so long already; even with a new husband. She resented Samuel, resented herself most of all, and resented a system that only allowed women to be treated as chattel.

She stayed in her room most nights, refusing the few party invitations that came, because of her pregnancy, and listened to the gramophone and sound discs Samuel had bought her as a wedding present. The music soothed her mind and she daydreamed as the music played. She’d read books about faraway places that were always warm; Spain, Africa, India, and dreamed about life in those places.

Carla’s health declined as the days passed and soon she would not even leave her bed, only staring out of her windows, longing for sunshine on her face as she listened to the many recordings Samuel brought her, trying to bring her out of her misery. Then the night came when Carla’s pains started. Samuel quickly sent for a midwife and waited for three days as Carla screamed through her labour. The child was caught somewhere between her slim hips and would not be moved.

Samuel paced and went in to see Carla as often as the midwife would allow and towards the final day, he refused to leave, despite the protests of the midwife. His own wife was dying and if the child was not soon born, both would die. Samuel thought on the matter and quickly pushed the midwife out of the way. The woman obviously had no idea what she was doing and Samuel thought he might know a way to ease his wife of her burden, even if it harmed the child. He would not allow Carla to die. Other children would come, if that’s what she desired, but for now he had to help her.

Moving between Carla’s legs, he gripped the child’s legs as Carla’s body tensed once more, trying to expel the baby from her body. Samuel pulled down on the baby’s body, gently at first and then with more force. He could see it, tiny and lifeless-looking with her head still inside of her mother’s body. A girl, if Carla could deliver it. Samuel pulled again as another contraction started; Carla so exhausted she wasn’t even conscience anymore. Slowly, with each contraction and Samuel’s assistance, the child pulled free from Carla’s body and the midwife took over, cleaning the baby and Carla in turn. Samuel had time to see the baby’s squashed and discoloured face, and then he was forced out of the way.

Samuel heard the child’s cries as her air passages were cleared and was relieved that the child lived. Now if only Carla would make some sound, stir in some way, he would be able to sleep at last. Samuel had not slept since Carla’s travails had begun and he was exhausted too but unwilling to sleep. Samuel turned to watch the midwife place the babe at her mother’s breast but was saddened to see that Carla still did not move.

The next day, she was still not awake and Samuel sent for a doctor he’d heard about. The doctor had been able to cure women of childbed fever and Carla was obviously suffering from it now. He had the man sent for and soon the short-statured, balding man with a moustache and monocle shuffled into Carla’s chamber, looking the room over.

“Yes, we must have light, clean water that has been boiled then coiled, and a solution made with this chlorinated lime for me to clean your wife with. Have you a washing bowl where I can wash my hands to examine her? So many doctors now scoff at the suggestion that doctors should wash their hands, but this is how the infection is spread; I have seen it many times. Your wife will soon be better, Mr. Colebrook, if we can stop the infection. I’ll soon have her walking around and cooing to that baby, just you wait and see.” Dr. Weiss was an encouraging man, though small, and seemed to exude confidence that made a patient and their family members relax.

Samuel sent for the boiled water and the means for Dr. Samuel Weiss to wash his hands, and watched as he tenderly examined Carla. He poured a powder mixture down her throat, telling Samuel that the medicine was not widely accepted but that he used it on the few women that contracted the infection while in his hospital, and they were soon cured of the illness that threatened their lives. Samuel didn’t care what the man fed to Carla, so long as he cured her. Samuel left once the doctor ordered the maids to change Carla’s sheets for new ones and informed them the sheets needed to be boiled to be sanitized, and went to check on the little butterfly that was his daughter.

The child slept in his room, never far from him, and was quiet but putting on weight already with the help of a wet-nurse. Carla was not producing enough milk to feed the child, so he’d had a woman capable of feeding the child sent for. She was angelic, asleep in her bassinet, and the spitting image of Samuel. He was quite proud of his daughter but unwilling to name her until her mother woke up. He called her his little butterfly and gently brushed her cheek so that she would smile in her sleep, as she usually did. The baby calmly opened her eyes, smiled up at her father blearily, then went back to sleep, snuffling around for something to comfort her. Samuel picked her up and carried her into her mother’s room.

He often brought her into her mother, wanting her to know the woman when Carla finally awoke. He sat in a chair at Carla’s bedside and watched the doctor as he went through his routine. Samuel smiled as the doctor looked up and reached for the child to examine her as well.

“Yes, the child is fine. Weak, but alright so far. We’ll keep an eye on her, she’s had an ordeal as well hasn’t she? Keep her warm and fed Mr. Colebrook and she should be fine. Now, your wife is quite ill. She will need a few days of treatment but soon she should recover. From my examination, I would hazard a guess that she has not been rendered sterile but that is always a possibility. Only time can truly tell. But she should recover from this birth without any further problems, I’d wager.”

“Thank you, Dr. Weiss, I am truly in awe of your knowledge and skill.” Samuel extended a hand that wasn’t holding the baby and shook Dr. Weiss’s hand.

“Be sure to have anyone that touches your wife clean their hands, Mr. Colebrook; that is most important! The child as well, nobody should touch her with unbathed hands. Now, I understand you pulled the babe free? That was very smart thinking, Mr. Colebrook, very smart indeed! Not many men can say they’ve delivered their own children! And to do it without killing the child. I’m not sure why the midwife did not think to do that, but I would not recommend her in the future. Hire someone else. She obviously does not know enough about childbirth to know unwashed hands are the leading cause of childbed fever. Now, I will take my leave. I’ll be back in the morning to administer more medicine to Mrs. Colebrook. Call around for me should Mrs. Colebrook deteriorate. I do not expect that though so I will take my leave and get to my bed. Good night, Mr. Colebrook.” Dr. Weiss headed to the door with his bag in hand.

“Thank you again, doctor, I love my wife dearly and her health is all that matters to me. I truly appreciate your efforts.” Samuel said and the doctor waved away his praise, telling him to get some rest before he became a patient as well.

Samuel set up a pallet in the floor and slept by his wife’s side for the next two nights. Finally, she awoke from her ordeal and looked around quietly. Carla could not place where she was or why she felt so bad. She reached down between her legs and felt that something had been placed there. She was sore there and her stomach was quite sore as well.

She tried to stand up but became dizzy as she sat up. Looking down at the floor she saw a man there and screamed, having no idea who the man was but certain he should not be there. A maid ran in and the man jumped up from the floor.

“Carla! You’re awake! But why are you screaming my love?” The handsome man asked her.

Looking at the man in confusion, Carla spoke, “Who’s Carla and who are you? Where am I? And what’s happened to me? I feel as though I’ve been hit by a large wagon and as weak as a kitten. Have I been ill?”