Oh, no...it's a girl.

Richard Bothel provides fictional snapshots of the isolated populations living in the river bottoms and backwoods of Texas.

Probably twenty minutes passed and Rosa returned to the room with a bucket steaming from the hot water. The tattered yellow sheets on the bed in no way provided sanitary conditions, but at least Rosa knew enough to have some boiled rags ready for what was to come.

“You make good mamma.” Rosa sat beside Ada on the bed slowly rubbing her rounded stomach. She could tell Ada’s body was tensing and relaxing with the contractions now coming only a few minutes apart.

“I think I’m ready.” It was difficult to understand Ada as she spoke between her clenched teeth. She remembered the feeling from her first son. It was time.

Without speaking, Rosa slid her hand under Ada sliding her dress up to the middle of her back. She gently moved Ada’s legs to a fully open position sliding her hand up between her legs. She could feel the top of the child’s head sliding through her cervix.

“Here he come.” Rosa purposely sounded excited to get Ada in the proper frame of mind. “Push.”

“Ahhh.” Ada strained to give the baby the last push to would take to join us in this world.

“Si.” Rosa pulled back her hands with a squirming little one screaming at the top of his lungs—only it wasn’t a he.

Ada fell back into her pillow exhausted from the ordeal. A peaceful smile was on her face.

“Una niña.” Rosa quickly wrapped the infant in a clean towel and laid her on Ada’s stomach. Ada’s face dropped. Her heart fell to her stomach. The child on her stomach was a girl. She remembered all those times Jonah said “I ain’t having no girl around this house. Damned females are worthless baby factories. Somebody has ta do it maybe—but not me.” Ada had always wanted a girl, but she knew Jonah would have not of that girl stuff. She had dismissed the possibility of not having a boy from her mind, but here she was—a girl. Jessica—that would be a good name. A momentary warmth went through her heart. Then a bolt of ice cold lightening hit. She did not know what Jonah would do, but she knew it would not be good.

There was no point in trying to talk with Rosa. She was a nice lady, but her English was poor. She was sure she would not understand how anyone would not want a baby. Ada only knew of large Mexican families that seemed to be happy with dozens of children. Being a boy or girl didn’t matter. She was sure Rosa thought everything was fine.

“Mira la luna, Comiendo su tuna; Echando las cáscaras En la laguna.” Rosa sang away as she hustled around the room cleaning up after the birth.

Ada had no ideas about the words, but it sounded like some kind of lullaby. Ada placed her chin on her chest looking down at the petite little girl lying below. What was she going to do? She felt weak, but held the baby as tightly to her breast as possible.