“I’ll do it for the baby.” Letter to Reader Title Page Dedication PROLOGUE CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN PROLOGUE Copyright
“I’ll do it for the baby.”
Tara placed the infant Laura in a sling against her chest. “Here’s a man who needs a wife. And I need a husband so I can get a home study to adopt Laura.”
“Tara, you can’t...”
Tara laughed. “Just kidding, Mom.” But she wasn’t.
She wanted to adopt Laura legally and she knew the other midwives at the birth center in Texas would help her. But Tara also knew that in her case, the authorities . would insist on a prerequisite. A husband.
Tara didn’t have time to “fall in love,” as her mother had suggested the other night. It would take a century. But a “suitable” man to marry lived two miles away, and she had the tool to bribe him. Herself. She would care for his children and she would clean his house.
Are you crazy, Tara? What made her think Isaac would marry her because he needed child care—or a housekeeper?
But she needed him. Isaac McCrea, M.D. She needed him so she could keep Laura.
Dear Reader,
Why write about midwives? First, because my son was born at home with a midwife, and I quickly became an admirer of midwives. Second, because although midwives attend most of the births in the world, they attend fewer than five percent of U.S. births. Third, because In meeting and studying midwives, I have found almost as much diversity as in the population as a whole. What these women have in common is their commitment to be “with woman” (from the Old English med-wyf) in labor and birth.
In You Were on My Mind, you met Ivy, a certified nurse-midwife, dealing with amnesia and a forgotten husband and daughter in rural West Virginia. Talking About My Baby is her sister Tara’s book
Tara is a different kind of midwife—trained in Third World settings, committed to being a midwife with no other tide attached. She is spontaneous and passionate, an outlaw who is sometimes hard to understand. But the outlaw is changed irrevocably by an abandoned baby, and a man who does understand her—Isaac McCrea, M.D.
I hope you’ll enjoy this story and look forward to reading about Tara’s parents and a missing Alaskan midwife in There Is a Season, in December ’99.
Best wishes and happy reading.
Margot Early
Talking about My Baby
Margot Early
The Midwives...
for Marina of the Sea
Many people have offered their assistance in my research for
this book. Also, I have used several references, including Philip Gourevitch’s We Wish To Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed with Our Families, Hanny Lightfoot- Klein’s Prisoners of Ritual and a host of midwifery articles, books and conference tapes. I would also like to thank Maureen Matthews and William Dwelley, MS, LM, WEMT-I for their help. An unnamed thanks to the other midwives I have known, who have inspired me with their dedication and courage. My greatest debt is to Marina Alzugaray, MS, ARNP, CNM, and director of the CoMadres Institute, dedicated to enhancing the health of women and their families through the art and science of midwifery. Long before she answered extensive research questions for this book—and allowed me to use her wonderful analogy to wild hens and her thoughts on the chicken-and-the-egg question—Marina was midwife at the home birth of my son. This series, THE MIDWIVES, is dedicated to her. I am unfamiliar with adoption law in Texas. Direct-entry midwives may become licensed in the state of Colorado, but this law was passed years ago. Midwives in many states, including Colorado, have faced legal action for pursuing their trade; they have won and lost lawsuits. I have never practiced medicine, nursing or midwifery. All technical errors in this fictional work are mine.
PROLOGUE
I always want to control the future, but controlling the future is an illusion, and this is painful to accept. Only the present is ours and not to control but to live.
—Karen Anthony, age 35, written after Elijah’s birth at Precipice Peak Hospital in Precipice, Colorado
Maternity House
Sagrado, Texas
DECEIT COULD BE BOTH survival and a way of life, and so it was for the girl who called herself Julia, who had come across the river to have her baby in the clinic, Maternity House, on the United States side of the river. Tara Marcus knew this about Julia soon after meeting her. The lies were a survival mechanism, and there was no point in arguing with survival.
“I saw the owl,” Julia said. “I flew over the river as we were crossing. I am going to die. Having the baby will kill me. I know it.”
Spanish had become automatic to Tara; she understood it as readily as English, and she followed the teenager’s words effortlessly.
“An owl came to me the day my mother died, too,” Julia continued. “But this one was for me.”
The border taught respect for superstition. If Julia had seen an owl, Tara would have worried; owls portended death. But there was something about Julia’s