Farnham’s Freehold By Robert A. Heinlein

“How can you tell, Daddy?”

“Put your hand where mine is. That’s his little pointy head, all set to take the dive. Feel it?”

“I guess so.”

“You could see, if you were where I am.” He tried to see if she was dilated. There was a little blood and he decided against a tactile examination-he did not know how it should feel and handling the birth canal would increase danger of infection. He knew that a rectal exploration should tell him something but be did not know what-so there was no point in submitting Karen to that indignity.

He looked up, caught his wife’s eye and thought of asking her opinion, decided not to. Despite having borne children, Grace knew no more about it than he did; the only result would be to shake Karen’s confidence. –

Instead he got his “stethoscope” (three end papers from his encyclopaedia, rolled into a tube) and listened for fetal heartbeat. He had often heard it lately. But he got only a variety of noises which he lumped in his mind as “gut rumble.”

“Ticking like a metronome,” he ‘announced, putting the tube down and covering her. “Your baby’s in fine shape, baby girl, and so are you. Grace, did you start a log when the first pain showed?”

“Barbara did.”

“Will you keep it, please? But first tell Duke to take the ropes off the other bed and rig them here.”

“Hubert, are you sure she should pull on ropes? Neither of my doctors had me do anything of the sort.”

“It’s the latest thing,” he reassured her. “All hospitals use them now.” Hugh had read somewhere that midwives often had their patients pull on ropes while bearing down. He had looked for this in his books, could not find it. But it struck him as sound mechanics; a woman should be able to bear down better.

Grace looked doubtful but dropped the matter and left the shelter. Hugh started to get up. Karen grabbed his hand. “Don’t go ‘way, Daddy!”

“Pain?”

“No. Something to tell you. I asked Joe to marry me. Last week. And he accepted.”

“I’m glad to hear it, dear. I think you are getting a prize.”

“I do, too. Oh, it’s Hobson’s choice but I do love him, quite a lot. But we won’t get married until I’m up and around and strong. I couldn’t face the row with Mother, not now.”

“I won’t tell her.”

“Better not tell Duke, either. Barbara knows., she thinks it’s swell.”

A contraction hit Karen while Duke war adjusting ropes. She yelped, chopped it off and gritted her teeth, reached for the ropes as Duke hastily handed them to her. Hugh put his hand on her belly, felt her womb harden as increasing pain showed in her face. “Bear down, baby,” he told her. “And pant; it helps.” .

She started to pant, it turned into a scream.

Endless seconds later she relaxed, forced a smile and said, “They went that a-way! Sorry about the sound effects, Daddy.”

“Yell if you want to. But panting does more good. Now rest while you can. Let’s get this organized. Joe, you’re drafted as cook. I want Barbara to rest and Grace to nurse-so you cook dinner, please. Fix some cold supper, too. Grace, did you log it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you time the contraction?”

“I did,” Barbara answered. “Forty-four seconds.”

Karen looked indignant. “Barb, you are out of your mind! It was over an hour.”

“Call it forty-five seconds,” Hugh said. “I want the time of each pain and how long it lasts.”

Seven minutes later the next one hit. Karen managed to pant, screamed only a little. But she did not feel like joking afterwards; she turned her face away. The contraction had been long and severe. Though shaken by his daughter’s agony, Hugh felt encouraged; it seemed certain that labor was going to be short.

It was not. All that hot and weary day the woman brought to bed fought to void herself of her burden-white-faced and shrieking, belly hardening with each attempt, muscles in arms and neck standing out as she strained-then fell back limp as the contraction died away, tired and trembling, not speaking, uninterested in anything but the ordeal.