Emma spent the night and eased Anya’s concerns about baby care and breast-feeding. If she thought Anya seemed less than experienced, she voiced no concerns. “Don’t worry. It’ll all come back to you. After you’ve had six or seven, you’ll be nursing one, luggin’ one on your hip, an’ swattin’ one out of trouble without turning a hair. You sure birthed this one easy. You don’t look like you got child-bearin’ hips, but she didn’t give you a bit of trouble. I got a lot wider hips than you, but when I had my Marthy………..” Anya enjoyed the tenor of her friend’s conversation, but was lost in admiration for the tiny baby. Her ears perked up when Emma moved on to a discussion of the baby’s size. “I do believe that’s the smallest, healthy baby I ever seen. My Melvin would’a made two of her, but he was a big ol’ lunker. I swear, this baby could sleep in a shoe box.!”
Joe looked alarmed. “But she’s big enough, ain’t she? I’m a big feller, but my ma never weighed ninety pounds and she could’a whooped a bear.”
“No, Joe. She’s breathin’ fine, her color’s good, and she’s nursing like there ain’t no tomorrow. This baby’s just little, not puny.” Emma laughed at his concerns.
Anya acted huffy. “Now don’t go making my baby out to be too little. Give her time and she’ll set you straight. I ain’t never been big as nothin’ but I can take care of you two if you keep picking on my baby.” She smiled and nuzzled its sweetness.
Emma laughed and Joe looked alarmed. “I ain’t talkin’ against the baby. I just got worried when Emma said she was too little.”
Emma threw a towel at him. “I ain’t never said nothin’ was wrong with being little. I was just saying she’s smaller than them buffaloes I birthed. I think that was right smart of Anya to cook up a little one.” They all got a good laugh out of that. “I do believe I’d keep her away from other folks till she catches up a little so she don’t catch something. What do y’all reckon on naming this big ol’ gal?”
Anya looked to Joe. He thought long before speaking, “Well, if you ain’t opposed, Anya. I’d like to name her after two of the finest women I ever knowed, Rose for my mama and Anya for you.”
Anya looked at him with love. “I’d be right proud to call her that.”
So sweet!
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Oh I hope that nothing is going to come and burst their bubble!
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Just posted bonus chapter.
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Just off to read it x
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Things are going along too good for this happy little family. I see the preacher man getting involved and screwing things up! Maybe at the babies christening?
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That is a loose thread that needs tying up. Anya’s identity is still in question.
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Both my folks are the youngest out of 13… I’ve more relatives than there are thorns on a rosebush… 🙂
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Excellent description of relatives.
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Awesome story. Gives me a ‘good’ f.e.e.l.i.n.g. Loving it, Linda. ❤ ❤
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I am trying hard to finish it without messing it up. I am hard at work on another book, but think I will flesh this out into a full-length work.
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My mother’s maternal grandmother had ten. The last of her children was born when she was fifty. She lived into her 90’s, and so did her last child. That child, Mom’s uncle, was close in age to my dad, just a few years older than Mom. 🙂 — Suzanne
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Don’t you know they dreaded that continuous child-bearing. My babies had colic. It would be so hard have a colicky baby and arthritis.
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I can imagine. My poor son had colic as a baby. My mother-in-law was scared he was going to die. My husband tried to reassure her by telling her no baby who cried that loud was going to die. We used to give him a bit of a syrup that lessened the pain then lie him on a covered hot water bottle.
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When mine had colic, they were inconsolable. Sometimes I gave up and just let them cry. It felt hopeless.
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Birthing a buffalo…great choice of words. ☺
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Thanks.
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Twelve! Goodness! Lovely story and I like the name too. Great story, Linda
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Thanks, Olga.
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Keep it sweet to the end – they all deserve it 🙂
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They do.
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Sweeet!
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Thanks.
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Wow, I thought 27 was the end. You really know how to surprise your readers. Is this the last post or are you going to continue. Don’t tell me that stinking judge finds about all this and there’s more heartache for poor Anya and now this lovely family.
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Never can tell.
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Wow, “After you’ve had six or seven…”. I guess it was necessary on a farm in those days. I can imagine what most women would say to that these days. 😀 — Suzanne
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My husband’s grandmother had twelve!
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