Call The Midwife Books By Jennifer Worth Novels & Stories

“I am.” The old woman’s eyes lit up. “Oh, how wonderful,” she cooed, clasping her hands together. “I could sense it on you. You’re positively glowing.” I quirked an eyebrow, surprised. “Really?” She nodded. “Yes. I was a midwife for decades, and let me just say… you seem like you’ve got a wonderful, healthy pregnancy in front of you. Really, I wish you all the best.”

Hands grab me gently as I’m placed with my back against two broad chests. “Let it go, we will take your pain,” Theo says with a kiss on my sweaty forehead and right now, I don’t care. I just want this to end. “Mia, I am going to check on you. Ok. I will be gentle.” The midwife who’s name I have forgotten tells me as I pull my legs up but everything feels heavy. I’m exhausted. Fen and Theo both grip a thigh each and hold my legs in place as the midwife pokes and prods me and I whimper.

The scent of old lies was thick in the air, a musk that Ruth’s mother finally chose to outrun. Taking her daughter, she fled the Montgomery borders, leaving the treacherous Barth Patterson to his own shadow. Cycles passed, and the Great Wolf played a cruel game with their fates. Jenny and Ruth were drawn to the same elite Academy of the Ridge. The past, which Ruth’s mother had buried beneath mountain snow, thawed the moment Barth caught Ruth’s scent on the training grounds. He knew that bloodline instantly—the daughter he had cast out like a weak pup.

The baby wails, a piercing shriek that drowns every other sound. We need to get out of here, and fast! The ceiling groans, and then the woman lets out a sharp scream. "Daniel!" Her call for her husband slices through the crackling roar as flames coil around her body, licking up her dress and clinging to her like claws. A beam crashes down, pinning her legs with a sickening thud. She thrashes, her skin blistering and melting away as she tries to push off the beam. The man's voice shatters into the fire. "Jade?! My love, can you hear me?!"

Relief washed over me as she entered the room, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos I felt inside. The midwife wasted no time. She quickly set up her supplies near the bed, moving with practiced efficiency. Grandma stood nearby, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her, worry etched into her face. Mom squeezed my hand even harder, her touch both comforting and grounding. The midwife smiled at me, her voice gentle yet authoritative. “You’re doing great, Alyssa,” she said as she checked my progress. “I know it hurts, but you’re almost there. We’re going to get through this. Let’s get you into position, okay?”

The lady said typing away at the computer. Jade walked to the back wall, scanning the books, she found a book called ‘The Forgotten Sorrows.’ She planted herself on the floor and started to read into it. It didn’t detail too much into the whole history before the witch burnings, but when it started in on the witch burnings, it turned brutal.

It was the same conversation we’d had at least a thousand times, but no matter how often I reminded her what it was like to lose a mate, shared my painful memories with her, she still never gave up. I understood where she was coming from. I really did. Witnessing the joy of such momentous occasions as the birth of a child into a loving family was what made the unpredictable and often long hours of being a midwife so worth it. And it was almost enough to make me want that kind of love and family for myself one day. Almost.

This is my fault, isn’t it? I’d been doing everything else correctly. I’d seen my midwife regularly. She’s a witch from Eastonia who relocated here and opened her own practice performing traditional healing and midwifery. I’d wanted to deliver at the hospital, however, mostly because Cole works there but also because the majority of the women in my family have had horrific, sometimes deadly, childbirths, and I’m not dumb enough to think that couldn’t happen to me. But going early wasn’t even in my mind. Aviva was two weeks overdue, for Goddess’s sake.

Dante moves to his phone and calls Dylan. “Hello, my water broke about ten minutes ago and I have just had a contraction.” I say to the midwife on the phone. She takes my name, date of birth, address all the usual questions. As soon as I said Moretti-Jackson, she took a sharp intake of breath.

From below, "That's it, Mrs Waterman. One last push and..." Mitch heaves, her eyes squeezing closed, head flung back, mouth flung wide in an extended howl... ... And... the second child of Mitch Kimberley slips into the waiting hands of the midwife. With brisk movements, she swipes away blood and muck and mucus, and with a wail, the baby protests the rude entry to the world. From his vantage point above, Klempner angles sidelong to look down. "Everything alright?" The midwife completes a brief two-arms-two-legs-one-head inventory. "You have a fine healthy baby girl, Mr Waterman."