The street was bustling this afternoon, as it always does in spring when the city finally feels the warm, lingering sunshine that has been hiding behind the dreary, grey snowdrifts. The melting snow has run off in clear streams that glitter like silver ribbons down the lane toward the narrow alley and then along Baker Street to St.Marys Church. The churchyard, too, was alive with activity. A small group of people alighted from a doubledecker buswomen in soft pastel dresses and matching scarves of skyblue, mint and white, their scarves almost hugging their faces, and men in crisp suits, ties and polished brogues.
From a smaller car stepped out a woman, her expression focused and cautious.
Ethel! What are you doing on your own? called her husband, sprinting across the road to her. Hold on, Ill help you!
Dont shout, Stephen, she whispered, Tommy has fallen asleep. Please, dont raise your voice. Im scared Ethels voice trembled. She had never baptized a baby before; she had just become a mother and feared the little boy would start wailing as he had a week earlier when she gave him his first bath. He had gone into such a frenzy that Stephen had to call a doctor. The paediatrician, Dr. Margaret Hughes, arrived looking calm and professional, her hair neatly pulled back. She paused in the hallway, then entered the small bedroom where the young mother cradled the squirming infant.
Lay him down, Dr. Hughes instructed.
What? I cant hear you, Ethel replied, her head spinning from exhaustion.
Youre shaking him like a rattle! Youll bruise his little bones, Dr. Hughes said, leaning close enough for only Ethel to hear.
Oh God, Ethel gasped, her eyebrows knitting together as she stared at Stephen.
Stephen smiled a thin, reassuring smile.
Ethel was still a girl at heart, though she had already given birth to Stephens first son, his heir. Neither of them quite knew how to raise him.
Just put him down, love, the doctor urged. Look at those chubby cheekshes a sturdy little fellow! she added, her tone softening. He looks just like his father!
Stephen puffed out his chest with pride. Thats my boy, he declared. Hes got a strong nose, just like mine.
The little foreheadmaybe all that thinking will fill his head with ideas, Dr. Hughes chuckled, then turned to Stephen. Close the window, its draughty in here!
Stephen lunged to shut the sash.
Whats wrong with him? Ethel whispered, on the verge of tears. Hes never been like this before.
You should have had a girl, Stephen muttered halfjoking, boys are a handful! He tried to crack a joke while gently turning the infant, spreading his tiny legs and untangling his clenched fists.
Colic, Dr. Hughes finally diagnosed. Ill write a prescription. And stop shaking him, motherhell settle. She patted Ethels shoulder. Hes a healthy, robust lad. Give him a pacifier if you must, but well try without it first.
Were absolutely against pacifiers! Stephen protested, his voice firm. Theyre unnecessary.
Against? Dr. Hughes repeated, feigning indifference. Emily ah, Mrs.Simmons, hand the baby to his father and get him to the kitchen. Swaddle him tightly; that helps.
Ethel shook her head, then, realizing she was too drained to argue, handed Tommy to Stephen.
Right then. Lets have a cup of tea, Dr. Hughes said, laughing. Tea, anyone?
She led Ethel by the elbow toward the kitchen, where the room was cool, the scent of coffee lingering in the air.
Tea kettle, sugarlets set a table, maybe a biscuit, Dr. Hughes said, taking on a hostesss tone.
Ethel set out two cups, unaware that a junior nurse would soon be joining them.
What do you mean such? the nurse asked, puzzled.
Ethel shivered at the thought of being judged. Ive never been scolded, never taught how to manage a baby, just tried to be human, she shrugged. Being a paediatrician sounds easycure everything, never fear.
Dr. Hughes nodded. Books help, but nowadays most people read online. Everyones problems are similar. Youre a responsible mumlook, youve got a thermometer in the bath, a clean bib, a tidy baby. Have a sip of tea while theres time.
She placed a steaming mug before Ethel. Dont worry, youll get the hang of it. Its normal to feel overwhelmed.
Ethels eyes filled with tears. Im tired. I want to sleep. Tommy feeds a lot, hates wet nappies, and Im out of strength. Days blend together; I cant remember my own name. I have exams, a dissertation to finish, and Im failing at everything.
Dr. Hughes glanced at her tablet, tapping a few keys. Any help at home? Family?
Ethel sighed. My inlaws live far away, cant come. My parents opposed our marriage and this child. They liked Tommy, but said I was too young, that I should finish university first. Now they wont help. I feel its all my fault.
She took a sip of tea, eyes closing.
Fault? Youre a mother now. The heavens gave you this little bundle. Youre not to blame for his weighthes a healthy four pounds, six ounces, Dr. Hughes said, smiling. Its a gift, not a burden.
Eat something, the doctor urged, tapping Ethels nose. Your husbands quietmaybe a pacifier isnt needed after all. Put the baby down, get some rest. Hell sleep through the night, and youll feel better too.
She handed Ethel a slip of paper with notes: give the baby a warm bath, keep the room draftfree, avoid overstimulation, and most importantly, dont panic. Everything will settle, she added.
Ethel gulped the tea, finished a slice of apple cake that Stephen had bought from the market, and promptly collapsed onto the sofa, too weak to pull a blanket over herself. She fell asleep there, the world fading away.
It felt as if it had all happened only yesterday.
Now, in a creamcoloured dress and lowheeled shoes, Ethel stood at the churchyard gate, Tommy cradled in her arms, ready for his baptism. She was nervous.
Come on, love, Stephen cooed, placing a gentle kiss on the babys forehead. Youre my little champion.
Soon the small wooden christening house would fill with whispered prayers, Tommy would hiccup a few times, then open his bright blue eyes to the painted saints on the ceiling, his gaze lingering on the golden cross above. His godmother, Ethels close friend, a young woman named Clara, nodded approvingly.
Tommys a sturdy nut, Clara whispered to Ethel. Well done, both of you.
Dr. Margaret Hughes entered the churchyard through the iron gates, bowing her head in quiet prayer. She wore a sensible coat instead of the baseball cap the neighboura man in a hooded jackethad on. Please remove your hat, sir, she advised politely. He obliged, revealing a balding head, and she gave him a disapproving shake.
The cross is beautiful, the couple looks lovely, the baby is beautiful, she commented, not approaching Ethel directly.
The man muttered, Baptisms are just a fuss. They only trouble the child. Dr. Hughes shook her head, You dont understand, young man. Faith can bring comfort.
Inside the church, the priest prepared the water. In the meantime, Stephen stood by the window, trying to calm Tommy.
The kitchen back at home was dark but cosy, the scent of fresh coffee filling the air. Lets set the kettle, add sugar, and perhaps a scone, Dr. Hughes said, taking charge.
Ethel laid out two cups. What do you mean such? asked the junior nurse, puzzled by the doctors briskness.
Ethel felt a sting of embarrassment. Ive never been taught how to care for a newborn, I just try to be decent, she said. Being a paediatrician sounds easycure everything, never be scared.
Dr. Hughes replied, Books help, but most people learn from the internet now. Your baby is healthythermometer in the bath, clean bib, tidy little one. Have a cup of tea while theres time.
She placed a steaming mug before Ethel. Dont worry, youll get the hang of it. Its normal to feel overwhelmed.
Ethels eyes filled with tears. Im exhausted. I want to sleep. Tommy feeds a lot, hates wet nappies, and Im out of strength. Days blur together; I cant recall my own name. I have exams, a dissertation to finish, and Im failing at everything.
Dr. Hughes glanced at her tablet, tapping a few keys. Any help at home? Family?
Ethel sighed. My inlaws live far away, cant come. My parents opposed our marriage and this child. They liked Tommy, but said I was too young, that I should finish university first. Now they wont help. I feel its all my fault.
She took a sip of tea, eyes closing.
Fault? Youre a mother now. The heavens gave you this little bundle. Youre not to blame for his weighthes a healthy four pounds, six ounces, Dr. Hughes said, smiling. Its a gift, not a burden.
Eat something, the doctor urged, tapping Ethels nose. Your husbands quietmaybe a pacifier isnt needed after all. Put the baby down, get some rest. Hell sleep through the night, and youll feel better too.
She handed Ethel a slip of paper with notes: give the baby a warm bath, keep the room draftfree, avoid overstimulation, and most importantly, dont panic. Everything will settle, she added.
Ethel gulped the tea, finished a slice of apple cake that Stephen had bought from the market, and promptly collapsed onto the sofa, too weak to pull a blanket over herself. She fell asleep there, the world fading away.
It felt as if it had all happened only yesterday.
Now, in a creamcoloured dress and lowheeled shoes, Ethel stood at the churchyard gate, Tommy cradled in her arms, ready for his baptism. She was nervous.
Come on, love, Stephen cooed, placing a gentle kiss on the babys forehead. Youre my little champion.
Soon the small wooden christening house would fill with whispered prayers, Tommy would hiccup a few times, then open his bright blue eyes to the painted saints on the ceiling, his gaze lingering on the golden cross above. His godmother, Ethels close friend, a young woman named Clara, nodded approvingly.
Tommys a sturdy nut, Clara whispered to Ethel. Well done, both of you.
Dr. Margaret Hughes entered the churchyard through the iron gates, bowing her head in quiet prayer. She wore a sensible coat instead of the baseball cap the neighboura man in a hooded jackethad on. Please remove your hat, sir, she advised politely. He obliged, revealing a balding head, and she gave him a disapproving shake.
The cross is beautiful, the couple looks lovely, the baby is beautiful, she commented, not approaching Ethel directly.
The man muttered, Baptisms are just a fuss. They only trouble the child. Dr. Hughes shook her head, You dont understand, young man. Faith can bring comfort.
Inside the church, the priest prepared the water. In the meantime, Stephen stood by the window, trying to calm Tommy.
Later, back at the house, Stephen held Tommy gently as they watched the sunrise over the Thames. The day ended with a simple truth: no matter how tangled the worries, love, patience and a little help from kind strangers can steady the most wobbly of lives. In the end, the greatest lesson was that a mothers heart, though weary, never stops beating for her child, and that faithwhether in a higher power or in ones own resiliencekeeps the world turning.
