The Amish Midwife Read Online Free PDF

why she needed help.
    “It’s complicated and I don’t have all the details,” Sophie replied, “but if you’re interested I’ll make another phone call.”
    Was I interested? I wasn’t sure. Certainly, I wouldn’t rule it out—not yet, anyway. Sophie hurried on, adding, “I think it would be a good experience for you. She has an excellent reputation.”
    I valued Sophie’s skills, and the home birth scene had taught me a lot, but I was strictly a hospital provider now. I reminded her of that.
    “But you’re so gifted,” Sophie said. “Spending some time doing home births again might be just what you need as you work through your griefand pursue your past.
Pennsylvania
, Lexie. Think about it. Seems almost providential to me.”
    For a moment it did to me as well. But then I hesitated, wondering what part of the state this midwife lived in, if it were even anywhere near Philadelphia. Again taking the cloth from my eyes, I looked at Sophie and asked if she knew.
    “She’s in Lancaster County. That’s near Philadelphia, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, sort of,” I said, thinking of my story, of the quilt I had been wrapped in when I had been given to my parents at the airport. “Lancaster County is what’s considered Amish country.”
    “Well, that makes sense then, because this woman is a midwife to the Old Order Amish.”
    “You’re kidding,” I said. I didn’t know all that much about the Amish except that they were so conservative they made most Mennonites look positively liberal.
    “Well?” Sophie prodded.
    I pursed my lips, thinking. The thought of actually going to Pennsylvania was tempting, yes, but I was iffy on the arrangement Sophie was proposing. Better to go the more “involved” route, as she put it, and sign on with a traveling nurse agency instead.
    Why hadn’t I thought of that before?
    “What about a license?” I asked, still playing devil’s advocate. “You know I’m not licensed to practice in any state but this one.”
    “Apply for one right away. It should only take a few weeks. That would give you time to finish here and take care of things at work. By then we should know what’s going on with this midwife and what her needs are. She really does need help, Lexie.”
    A part of me wanted to laugh. It was so Mennonite to plan a getaway around doing some kind of service. I knew of families who spent all of their vacations in places like Bolivia and South Africa and East L.A. Even vacations had to have a purpose.
    “And you think I could leave, just like that?” I asked, glancing toward the doorway to the dining room.
    Following my gaze, she said, “If you talk it through with James, I think he’ll understand.” Moving closer, she put a warm hand on my shoulderand gave it a squeeze. “I know there’s something inside of you, something incomplete. When you were a teenager—”
    “I wanted my story,” I blurted, tears filling my eyes again. “I still do.”
    She nodded. “Maybe God is whispering to you now.”
    “Oh yeah? What’s He saying?” I asked, wiping my tears on my sleeve and thinking I hadn’t heard from God—or He from me—in a very long time.
    Sophie smiled, her eyes again twinkling.
    “Maybe He’s saying, ‘It’s time.’”

T HREE
    I leaned against the counter, wiping away my new tears with the cool cloth, and then pressed it against my face again. A car door slammed and then another.
    “Would you at least pray about it?” Sophie asked as she started toward the back door.
    “Pray about what?” James stopped in the doorway, holding the cup he’d left earlier on the coffee table.
    “Nothing, really,” I whispered as Sophie opened the door for the elderly crowd gathering in the driveway, carrying casserole dishes, pies, and baskets of rolls. As they flooded into the kitchen, Sophie took their food, James took their coats, and I took their hugs and the women’s holy kisses. They were as eager to help as they were somber. In no time the table